Chapter 96: The Ork Attack Moon
The Imperium vessels hurled themselves into the greenskin fleet. The xenos marauders could no longer contain their hunger for war.
They ignited crude jump packs wreathed in black smoke and packed themselves into rust-streaked assault boats, launching boarding actions against humanity's warships.
"Alert: hostile breach detected, Deck Thirty-Two," the ship's servitor banks intoned.
"Alert: void shield generator C-Fifty-Four is experiencing critical overload. Shield collapse imminent."
"Spatial distortion patterns detected. Enemy teleportation in progress."
Warnings cascaded through the command bridge.
Greenskin orks stormed through the Emperor's Grand Design. Their brutish forms desecrated the corridors with every thunderous footfall.
The Primarchs departed the bridge as one, leading their transhuman warriors to purge the xenos filth that dared violate their father's flagship.
'Our ship numbers are insufficient,' the Raven's thoughts touched the Emperor's mind.
'If we continue this void engagement, we're looking at total annihilation. What's the play, Big Guy?'
"To destroy the horde, one must slay its chieftain," the Emperor replied. "We shall obliterate the War Moon, and victory shall be ours."
The Raven's gaze fixed upon the massive construct, wreathed in a constellation of crude warships. Dark lines of calculation appeared across his brow.
'Big Guy, there's no way we're punching through that defensive perimeter to slag that monstrosity.'
'This isn't the Super God Universe. Even with Gene Engines, you can't just delete that many enemy vessels.'
The fundamental laws governing each reality differed in their nature and limitations. In the Super God Universe, Gene Engines could elevate mortals beyond the power of gods themselves. Destroying fleets became as simple as drawing breath.
But here, in this confluence of realities, such creation held different constraints.
The Primarchs, enhanced with the latest Gene Engine technology, indeed possessed the theoretical capability to detonate warships through will alone.
Yet faced with the overwhelming numbers of the greenskin flotilla, even they must acknowledge tactical reality.
The Emperor shook His head with certainty.
"We need not breach their defences entirely. Proximity shall suffice. This vessel can deliver us to the War Moon's surface."
The Emperor's Grand Design incorporated technologies harvested from multiple realities. Even without penetrating the enemy's protective barriers, it could translate assault forces directly onto the War Moon's surface.
"What a delightfully insane battle plan," the Raven observed with dark amusement. "Perfectly suited to your legendary arrogance."
"You do not object?" the Emperor inquired.
"Object? Why would I object?" The Raven's voice carried gleeful anticipation.
"Let us show these xenos what a proper WAAAGH looks like!" He paused, head tilting with sudden curiosity.
"How exactly do you plan to crack open that floating scrapyard?"
"Penetrate their power cores. Destroy them from within."
"Big Guy, your thoroughness never ceases to amaze me."
The Raven's praise dripped with mock sincerity.
"We possess no alternative," the Emperor stated. "Failure here means retreat, and the greenskin horde will sweep directly into New Empire space. The devastation would be catastrophic."
Should the greenskin tide spread unchecked, the consequences would ripple across a thousand worlds. WAAAGH-spawned conflicts would erupt across Imperial space, forcing the Legions to abandon the Great Crusade in favour of desperate defensive actions.
The First Expeditionary Fleet carved through the void under the Emperor's command, penetrating deep into enemy defensive formations as they closed with the War Moon.
Yet as the Imperial vessels approached their target, they encountered the fury of artificially generated gravity storms.
The War Moon's sheer mass required exotic gravitational field manipulation to achieve interstellar mobility and facilitate planetary conquest.
The xenos controllers needed only minor parameter adjustments to unleash gravitational tempests of devastating fury.
Several Imperial ships tore apart in the maelstrom, their death-agonies painting the void in brief, brilliant stars.
But the Emperor's Grand Design weathered the storm's rage, achieving optimal teleportation range through superior engineering and the Emperor's will.
During their approach, the First Expeditionary Fleet attempted concentrated orbital bombardment.
Macro-cannons capable of reducing hive cities to ash managed only superficial scarring upon the rust-encrusted surface.
Magma bombs and mass-reactive warheads sufficient to shatter continents detonated harmlessly in the void, their fury dissipated by unknown xenos countermeasures.
Virus bombs and rad-weapons that should have sterilised entire worlds found their deadly potency neutralised, half-lives measured in millennia reduced to mere hours.
After confirming that external assault remained futile, the Emperor began preparations for the boarding action.
Five of His gene-sons would accompany Him: Sanguinius, Guilliman, Dorn, Konrad Curze, and Alpharius. The Custodian Valdor and his golden-armoured Legio Custodes would form the vanguard.
"Initiate mass teleportation protocols," the Emperor commanded.
Tech-adepts and their servitor attendants began awakening the translation devices, their binary hymns echoing through the preparation chambers.
"Father," Sanguinius approached with wings folded respectfully.
"Perhaps this burden should fall to your sons alone. The War Moon surely teems with enemies, and should harm befall you..." The Angel's voice carried unspoken anguish at the possibility.
The Emperor's response brooked no argument. "Only through My direct intervention can victory be assured."
"What say you, Master Raven?" Sanguinius addressed the creature perched upon their father's pauldron.
"Big Guy's assessment is accurate. Only he can succeed in this boarding action."
The Raven's tone grew serious, his usual irreverence tempered by tactical reality.
"The War Moon exists within a WAAAGH field. Even with your Gene Engine enhancements, you lack the fundamental power to destroy it."
"Is this WAAAGH field truly so formidable?" Rogal Dorn inquired, his architect's mind seeking to understand the enemy's defensive capabilities.
"We have slain countless greenskin warriors. They appeared only marginally superior to standard xenos breeds."
The Raven directed a Custodian to retrieve a captured ork weapon for demonstration. The firearm was grotesquely oversized, decorated with carved skulls and embedded fangs in typical greenskin fashion.
"Observe this weapon. By any rational engineering standard, it should be non-functional, incapable even of basic operation. Yet in our hands, it functions perfectly and functions well. The War Moon operates on identical principles. It has transcended mere physical existence to become something conceptual."
"Your Gene Engines, operating within this idealistic WAAAGH field, may find their capabilities compromised. Only the Emperor's personal intervention ensures mission success."
"How remarkable it would be," Guilliman mused, "if humanity could harness such capabilities. The more humans within the Empire, the stronger it would become."
The Emperor's expression grew contemplative; his immortal mind was intrigued by his son's observation.
If the WAAAGH field's principles could be adapted for human use, the implications would indeed prove significant.
"Such considerations must wait," the Emperor declared. "Our immediate concern remains the present threat."
"Translation device charged. Parameters configured," announced the Magos Mechanicus, his words transmitted in both binary and Gothic.
"Execute," the Emperor commanded.
Reality dissolved in searing white radiance, followed by the familiar disorientation of teleportation transit.
When the translation glow faded and perception returned to normal, they stood upon the War Moon's surface. Thousands of greenskins roared challenges at the Imperial warriors who had materialised without warning.
Crude armour plates were strapped to their massive frames with leather and rivets. Each specimen towered over four meters in height and radiated primitive menace.
The great slaughter commenced.
The Emperor and His chosen advanced along the War Moon's crude thoroughfares, leaving destruction in their wake.
Power generators exploded in showers of sparks. Artillery emplacements collapsed into twisted wreckage. Ammunition stockpiles detonated in chain reactions of devastating fury.
Bolter fire echoed endlessly through the rust-choked air. Greenskin warriors stumbled and fell or were blown apart entirely, their crude flesh painting the corroded deck plates in abstract patterns of violence.
Enemy corpses accumulated in growing mounds, testimony to transhuman superiority.
Yet for all their swift progress, the assault eventually ground to a halt. The orks seemed numberless, forcing the Imperial strike force into increasingly desperate combat.
Warriors carved through xenos bodies with blessed blades and crushed skulls with armoured fists, but still the enemies poured forth in endless waves.
Sanguinius fought with transcendent grace, wielding spear and sword in perfect harmony.
His wings carried him aloft to slam enemies earthward with bone-crushing force, then bore him diving down to scatter entire formations with his impact.
Amid the carnage, an ork warlord emerged to challenge the Great Angel.
The creature stood three times Sanguinius's height and possessed the bulk of a battle tank.
Crude augmetic limbs had been bolted to its frame, and it wielded a power-wreathed battle-axe that hummed with barely contained energies.
Sanguinius activated his Sanguine Engine, preparing to annihilate this barbarous champion.
[Target identified: Beast-class lifeform. Judgment protocols active.]
[Judgment failed. Unknown field interference detected.]
The Great Angel's perfect features registered momentary surprise as he processed the diagnostic information.
The WAAAGH field emanating from this creature proved too potent. Even Gene Engine technology, capable of rewriting reality's fundamental laws, could not penetrate the idealistic barrier.
Recognising that advanced methods would prove ineffective, Sanguinius resolved to employ more primitive solutions.
Wings spread wide, sword and spear poised for combat, he launched himself at the towering brute.
Blessed blade met crude axe in ringing collision. Spear point struck the augmetic limb in a thunderous impact.
The ork warlord released a bestial roar, intending to overwhelm the Angel through sheer physical dominance.
"Size alone shall not grant you victory over me," Sanguinius snarled, gradually forcing back the enemy's descending axe through superior technique and transhuman strength.
The spear in the Angel's grip finally found its mark, punching through the creature's barrel chest in a spray of dark ichor.
Yet rather than collapsing, the mortally wounded warlord revealed a savage grin and seized Sanguinius's wing in its massive fist.
Star-bright radiance erupted from the creature's chest cavity. It was intended to detonate itself!
Recognising the imminent threat, Sanguinius fought desperately to escape the blast radius, but the ork's grip held firm.
The explosion erupted like a newborn sun, its brief radiance illuminating the War Moon's landscape.
The shockwave annihilated every greenskin within a kilometre radius, their crude forms vaporised by forces beyond their comprehension.
Sanguinius was hurled through the air, wreathed in smoke and flame, his perfect form bearing the terrible wounds of close-range detonation. Even a Gene Engine-enhanced Primarch found such devastation challenging to endure.
[Life recovery protocols initiated. Damaged tissue regeneration in progress.]
As the healing systems began their work, surviving orks swarmed toward the fallen Angel, intending to pulp his magnificent form while vulnerability remained.
At that moment, the Raven materialised.
Psychic force erupted outward from his diminutive frame, a shockwave of pure mental energy that sent every approaching greenskin tumbling across the deck plates like scattered toys.
Power flowed from the creature into Sanguinius's broken body, accelerating recovery at visible rates. Charred feathers fell away, replaced by pristine white plumage that gleamed with renewed vitality.
_______________
Hello, how are you all doing? Hope you are well always.
Now, I will ask again: Are you still liking the story? Is the quality up to your satisfaction, or are there any shortcomings present?
Just want to keep track so it doesn't get derailed.
And keep enjoying. We'll meet agin
____________
Check out the Patreon for advanced chapters right now:
👉 patreon.com/Mr UmU
https://www.patreon.com/Mr_UmU
_______________
Frieren: My Master Serie Don't Know How to Love ~: 40+ Ch.
Warhammer 40K: The Emperor's Raven: 45+ Ch.
Marvel 1919: Rise of an Empire: 100+ Ch.
1960: My Uncle is the Director of the FBI: 65+ Ch.