Badab Prime, Planetary Surface.
The alarms within the arena continued to shriek, but the Astartes standing in silent formation had completely shaken off their initial shock. Power armor servos hummed as a massive stream of data flashed silently through their communication channels.
Custodes Tribune Endymion looked up slightly; the signal channels of his golden helmet were linked directly to the cruiser Eye of the Emperor in orbit.
A vast ocean of data—enemy ship vectors, mass projections, energy readings, void shield fluctuation frequencies—cascaded across his tactical eyepiece via the vox-caster. Using his post-human brain, he completed an assessment of the entire theater of operations in less than a hundredth of a second.
"What's the situation?"
From the side came Adam's curious inquiry, his voice sounding oddly prominent amidst the grim atmosphere.
Endymion tilted his head slightly.
"Lord Adam, the livery of the enemy vessel confirms it as a Battle Barge from the Iron Warriors. It is maintaining constant acceleration on a course set directly for Badab Prime. A Strike Cruiser and escort squadron from the Astral Claws have launched to intercept, but the enemy's speed is highly irregular. They have already bypassed the interceptor fleet's pre-set firing grid."
"Oh?" Adam raised an eyebrow. "Are the void shields on that thing really that tough?"
When a fleet has just dropped out of the Warp, void shields should be in a state of collapse and recharging. At that stage, a fleet usually has to tank enemy fire with its hull plating alone; even a powerful force would normally suffer heavy losses.
Why was this one an exception?
"Precisely, my Lord." Endymion found it strange as well. "Data indicates the enemy's void shield array is recovering far faster than projected. It regained over 70% of its rated strength in a remarkably short window—enough to shrug off the intercepting fleet's macro-cannon and lance fire."
"Must be using cheats," Adam muttered.
He cast his gaze toward the crimson sky, as if trying to peer through the clouds to see the approaching iron beast.
The heavy sound of footsteps echoed from behind—the dull thud of power boots striking packed earth. Lufgt Huron, clad in Terminator plate, strode toward them.
He had intended to consult with the Custodes Tribune, but his attention was immediately snagged by a bizarre sight. The Tribune—a glorious warrior from ten millennia ago whose power was unfathomable—was relaying the combat situation to a seemingly ordinary "mortal" in a posture that bordered on a formal report.
Huron's pupils constricted imperceptibly.
As a latent (or rather, quite obvious) "Astartes-supremacist," he harbored a deep-seated low opinion of mortal leadership and decision-making, viewing them as frail, short-sighted, and incapable of shouldering the heavy burden of guarding the Empire's vast frontiers.
And yet, a Custodian was treating this man with such reverence? He could not comprehend it at all.
He suppressed the swirling questions and the faint, inexplicable discomfort in his heart. With a powerful enemy looming, now was not the time for such inquiries.
"Everyone," Huron's voice crackled through his helmet's vox-emitter, tight with tension. "A sudden threat has emerged; pray excuse my absence. I fear the welcoming ceremony and further exchange must wait until we have repelled the invaders. I must head to the command node immediately."
"Understood," Endymion nodded slightly.
However, Daerixian stepped forward, his tone sharp: "Chapter Master, might I ask where your Battle Barges are? Why is the defense composed only of cruiser-class vessels?"
Huron had already experienced Daerixian's blunt attitude. Though displeased, he answered in a low rumble: "Our battleships and their escorts are currently led by my Chapter's First Captain on a routine patrol of the Maelstrom Sector. To cover a sufficiently wide area of space, our capital ships do not typically linger at the homeworld. This is standard deployment."
Hearing this, Adam's brow furrowed slightly.
"The capital ships just happen to be away from home? Isn't that a bit too convenient?"
His intuition was always sharp, and his first thought was that this smelled like a conspiracy. A sudden Warp jump landing right on a relatively undefended homeworld; a Chaos vessel with abnormally high performance; and the local heavy hitters just happening to be away...
When these factors stacked up, he couldn't help but think of the blue shadow weaving plots behind the threads of fate.
"Well, just put it on Tzeentch's tab for now," Adam thought, curling his lip silently.
In this universe, whenever you encounter a bizarre event that defies logic, blaming Tzeentch is almost always a safe bet.
"Chapter Master Huron," Adam turned slowly, "Given your knowledge of Badab Prime's defenses, what do you think are the chances of that Battle Barge successfully breaching the orbital layer and dealing substantial damage to ground facilities?"
Being questioned by a "mortal" in such a borderline-transgressive tone made Huron feel a brief moment of irritation. However, catching the sight of the two Custodians standing like silent mountains nearby, he suppressed his pride and answered with the confidence befitting a Chapter Master.
"Zero percent."
His tone was absolute.
Indeed, zero percent. Not a single shred of possibility.
With Huron's talent for management, he had spent over a century meticulously building his power in the Badab Sector through tax evasion and tireless effort. What he had created—aside from thirty-five hundred fully armed Astartes—was a defense network that was virtually impregnable.
At this very moment, looming over Badab Prime was his greatest pride: the "Ring of Steel" orbital defense station.
This massive "Great Wall in Space" was shrouded in incredibly thick void shields and bristling with orbital defense batteries. it was simply indestructible.
As for the enemy trying to destroy it via boarding actions? Please. The forces garrisoning the Ring of Steel were no mere Planetary Defense Force; they were the "Tyrant's Legion"—mortal auxiliaries personally trained by Huron—defending alongside the Astartes of the Astral Claws.
Never mind a lone Chaos Battle Barge. Even in the original timeline during the late stages of the Badab War, the Imperial Loyalist forces—wielding the combined strength of five Astartes Chapters and a massive Navy fleet—found this defense platform an absolute nightmare that they could not crack for the longest time.
Ultimately, it took the Fire Hawks Chapter using their mobile Star Fort to literally rip away a fragment of a sun and hurl it directly at Badab Prime.
Your urbanization is indeed impressive. But go talk to my stellar fragment!
Given that, one could understand where Huron's confidence came from.
However, no one mirrored Huron's confident assertion. Endymion raised a hand and swiped at the air; a holographic projection immediately deployed from his vambrace, appearing before the group.
In the center of the vast star map, the light representing the enemy ship continued to accelerate with incredible vector force. Dark red engine plumes dragged massive trails through the void, and the speed curve beside it continued to climb frantically.
It was like a burning meteor, ignoring the intercepting fire from fleets in other directions. With a near-suicidal resolve, it was charging straight for Badab Prime.
"Evidently," Adam remarked softly, watching the crimson dot move rapidly across the projection, "the Chaos Space Marine commander doesn't share your opinion."