Inside the strategic command center on Plantidium, Marneus Calgar, the Master of Macragge, quietly gazed at the blue data streams flowing across the datapad in his hand.
The cold lamplight reflected on his weather-beaten face, and his electronic bionic eye flashed red as he sank into contemplation.
The content of the battle report concerned the latest progress in the ground war on Plantidium.
To be honest, the temporary reorganization and collaborative warfare among the various Space Marine Chapters were proceeding unexpectedly smoothly,so smoothly, in fact, that it exceeded even Calgar's imagination.
When the plan was first conceived, he had anticipated countless potential setbacks and prepared corresponding contingency plans.
For instance, during the adjustment period, excessive casualties caused by conflicts in tactical philosophy between different Chapters might lead to widespread complaint, making them feel that decentralized command would be better than joint efforts.
Or perhaps, the Chaos Great Enemy would smell opportunity, secretly intervene, and incite massive confusion. Or, even worse, halfway through the battle, the belated High Lords of the Imperium on Holy Terra might forcefully intervene and try to break up this enormous combined force.
Of these, the first scenario—the potential internal split—was always Calgar's greatest concern. He worried less about the latter two external threats.
The Imperium and the Tyranids were tearing each other apart on the planet Plantidium, turning the entire world into a massive meat grinder of blood and flesh.
Chaos naturally wanted to intervene, but with the Tyranid Hive Mind present, a psychic black shroud, almost tangible, enveloped the entire planet. How could they intervene?
The only instance of their presence was before Calgar's arrival, when a group of reckless Helldivers performed a summoning ritual, drawing forth a Great Daemon of Nurgle.
Even that success exploited a vulnerability: the Tyranids had deliberately weakened the black shroud's intensity in that area to encircle and destroy reinforcements.
Since then, the psychic environment on Plantidium has been more solid than a cast-iron wall against the Immaterium. Forget Great Daemons, it would be next to impossible to summon even the weakest Bloodletter.
Although the black shroud around Plantidium had been lifted after the combined fleet of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar defeated the Tyranid bioships fleet, Calgar was practically hoping Chaos would send a fleet now.
The best-case scenario would be the entire eastern segment of the galaxy's Chaos pirates pouring out, allowing him to deal with all these traitors to humanity in one fell swoop.
As for the High Lords on Holy Terra... they would certainly show unprecedented efficiency in fighting for post-war accolades and political power. However, disciplined Chapters could be constrained by them, and even disciplined Legions could be shackled, but undisciplined forces proved much more difficult to handle.
Therefore, even if the High Lords wanted to cause trouble, it would certainly be after the war was over and the Chapters were exhausted and scattered, each returning to their home base.
With over a hundred thousand Space Marines currently stationed here, Terra would actually be compliant, offering Calgar all the manpower and ships he needed. Having served as the Master of Macragge for centuries, Calgar had seen too much of the soft-bullying and hard-fearing demeanor of mortals.
Thus, compared to the two distant external threats, the first internal issue, the fear that the heavy casualties during the adjustment period would cause the Astartes to become alienated, was the most grievous Sword of Damocles hanging over his heart.
However, based on the current battle reports, Calgar's greatest fear was no longer an issue.
Yes, all the problems of the adjustment period did occur. For instance, one Space Marine, based on battlefield intuition, believed it was a golden opportunity for a rapid advance, while his nearby battle-brother judged that they should immediately establish defensive lines and hold firm.
If the two sides could quickly communicate and reach a consensus, it was fine. But if they ordered without discussion, stubbornly adhering to their own Chapter's style...
These situations indeed led to corresponding catastrophic consequences. More than once, two companies guarding a position became detached because the flanking company advanced too quickly, and the other coordinating company failed to keep up, resulting in the fast company being surrounded by a tide of Tyranid swarms.
And the sudden disappearance of the flank also instantly plunged the company that remained into a "desperate, life-or-death crisis."
Yet, in almost every such instance, all the casualties and pressure were borne single-handedly by the Helldivers. If the order was to hold the line, the Helldivers would stand on the absolute front, using their flesh and blood to form a defensive perimeter, desperately resisting the pressure until reinforcements arrived.
If the order was to break out, many Astartes would be astonished to find that they actually couldn't run as fast as those mortals, they were always the first to charge, using their bodies and bayonets to forge a path for the Space Marines. Even the nearly cliché scenes of the Helldivers intentionally intercepting fatal attacks with their bodies were common sights on this battlefield.
There were clear reasons for this conscious act of self-sacrifice. For the ordinary soldiers and junior officers of the Helldivers—the players—this was simply an order from senior command.
Since it was an order, they executed it. The players were too lazy to delve into the underlying reasons; having someone think for them was cause for celebration.
Moreover, if one blocked a bullet for an Astartes, resurrected, and quickly ran back, they might just see that formidable Space Marine grieving over their 'corpse.' The sheer exhilaration of that experience was something one had to feel to understand.
And for the high-ranking officers of the Helldivers... this was an order from the superior. Even those high-ranking officers without a specific background would understand everything after a brief word in the military committee.
Most players didn't yet grasp the benefits brought about by the Helldivers doing this, merely enjoying the experience. But Calgar saw it clearly.
"Once this battle is over, of the hundred-plus Chapters and tens of thousands of Space Marines, which one won't have had a Helldiver block a bullet for them? Which one won't be grateful to the Helldivers?"
Calgar set down the datapad, a complex light flickering in his bionic eye. "Initially, I wondered why Robert was so proactively pushing for Chapter unity. It seemed to offer no direct benefit to him or his Helldiver Legion, but now it seems..."
Perhaps this wasn't Robert's specific plot, but this was undoubtedly the result. Calgar slowly shook his head, no longer dwelling on the deeper machinations. Regardless, the outcome was good.
After crossing the difficult adjustment period, Space Marines from different Chapters and different homeworlds would find their bonds becoming increasingly tight in this bloody war. For the Astartes, who valued honor and camaraderie, friendship forged in the fires of war with life and trust surpassed all else.
It was foreseeable that after this campaign, they would be inseparable.
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4 Helldivers per Astarte, that 5 man squad sounds invin-Title Card