When the news reached the Measure of Discipline, Luna's face turned livid.
"He has launched?" Her voice was ice-cold. "How is he so much faster than I anticipated?"
The adjutant kept his head low, not daring to speak. Luna paced back and forth on the bridge, her mind racing. Logically, Raynor's fleet should have departed at least a month after hers. But now, his progress had outstripped her estimates by a massive margin.
What happened? Did the sabotage by the cultists fail to have any effect?
Feeling the mounting pressure, Luna called another meeting, mobilizing the fleet's senior officers to find a way to break the deadlock. Just as the discussion was going nowhere and Luna's expression was darkening further, a low voice spoke up.
"My Lady."
Luna turned toward the source of the voice. It was a Tzeentchian sorcerer dressed in the robes of the Adeptus Mechanicus, standing in a corner of the bridge. His face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, revealing only a metallic jaw. Leaning on a mechanical staff, he walked to the center and knelt on one knee.
"I have something to say, though I know not if it is appropriate."
Luna frowned. "Speak."
The sorcerer looked up, his eyes harboring a wise green light. "I have spent the last two days reviewing a vast amount of data regarding the Greenskins on Karl-2," he said.
Luna gestured for him to continue.
"I have discovered that these Greenskins are somewhat different from the ones we encountered on Brevis." He stood up, walked to the holographic projector, and pulled up a set of data. "They have far too many war machines—much more than those on Brevis. Look here."
He pointed to the data. "The proportion of armored units is thirty percent higher than normal Greenskins. The number of heavy weapons is sixty percent higher. This indicates that the number of Mekboyz must be at least double."
"Furthermore," he enlarged the image, "most of the mechanical armor is painted in a yellow-and-black or blue color scheme." He looked at Luna. "Yellow and black are the markings of the Bad Moons clan, while blue is the mark of the Deathskulls."
"These two clans are famous: one for its wealth and overwhelming firepower, the other for scavenging and ingenuity. Moreover, they share a common trait—they produce an abundance of Mekboyz."
Luna narrowed her eyes. "You mean..."
"I suspect," the sorcerer said, "that the Warboss of Karl-2 is not just an ordinary Greenskin leader. He is a Big Mek!"
A Big Mek. The highest level of war engineer in Greenskin society. They didn't just fight; they built—everything. From simple choppas to complex war walkers, from crude bikes to massive kroozers, everything was within their "professional" scope. A Big Mek would have several times, even dozens of times, more Mekboyz under his command than an ordinary clan. More Mekboyz naturally meant more war machines.
This explained why the Greenskins on Karl-2 were so difficult to deal with. They didn't just "Waaagh!"; they knew how to build.
The analysis was sound. Luna nodded, accepting his theory. If the opponent truly was a Big Mek, things became even more interesting. A Big Mek's hunger for technology and knowledge was no less than that of a Tzeentchian follower.
"My Lady," another voice chimed in perfectly.
Luna turned. Another Tzeentchian sorcerer stepped out from the crowd. He was thin, wrapped in a burlap cloak, with blue light flashing in his eyes, equally brimming with intellect. "I also have an idea."
"Speak."
The sorcerer walked to the projector and pointed at the data. "A Big Mek's desire for tech and knowledge is as strong as ours. If we release information—letting them know that our ships hide 'technological treasures'..." He gave a soft chuckle. "Perhaps we can lure the snake out of its hole."
Luna's eyes lit up. She looked at the two sorcerers and smiled—her first smile since the expedition began.
"Good! An excellent idea!" She stepped forward and personally helped the two sorcerers up. "How may I address you two?"
The first sorcerer bowed slightly. "I am Barton. People call me 'The Little Crouching Dragon'!"
The second sorcerer also leaned down. "I am Wood. I have a nickname as well: 'The Little Fledgling Phoenix'!"
Luna was overjoyed. "Crouching Dragon and Fledgling Phoenix? Hahaha!"
"With the help of you two, we shall surely take down that Greenskin brat!" She turned, looking out at the massive space station. "The position of Expedition Marshal shall belong to me!"
Barton and Wood exchanged a glance, a hint of smugness flashing in their eyes. Indeed, once their "Twin Stars" took action, there was nothing they couldn't achieve!
The next day, rumors began to circulate within Karl-2.
"Ya heard? Dem humies got a sekrit on dere ships dat can build invincible mega-dredds!"
"Wot sekrit?"
"Dunno, but dey say it can build really big ones. I reckon dey's even stompier dan dem Killa Kans!"
"For real?"
"True story! I heard it meself!"
At first, the Greenskins just took it as a joke. Rumors spread every day, and most were fake. But somehow, this rumor became more and more outrageous and mystical. Some said the humies had a magical metal that could turn into any shape. Others said they had a talking head that knew how to build every kind of machine. Some even claimed the humie leader was actually a Super Mek who could build a Gargant with his bare hands!
Driven by a mysterious force, the rumors spread like a plague across Karl-2. When a rumor is believed by enough Greenskins, it becomes "true" to a certain extent. There was no fear that the Ork boss wouldn't take the bait.
Thus, on the third day, Luna decided to add more fuel to the fire. She deployed two Knight Paladins.
Massive red and green silhouettes flew out from the hangar of the Measure of Discipline and landed in the Peripheral Zone of Karl-2. The Greenskins' anti-aircraft fire opened up frantically, but the beams and shells only stirred ripples on the Knights' ion shields.
Several Deff Dreads charged in to intercept. Reaper chainswords swung, and thunderstrike gauntlets smashed down. Three minutes later, those Deff Dreads had returned to their original form: a pile of scrap metal.
After the Knights flew away, they left behind only a field of wreckage and a crowd of stunned Greenskin boyz.
The news traveled instantly across Karl-2. "See dat! Dem big walkers is da real deal!"
"Dat sekrit must be true! Dere's no way dem humies could build summin' dat killy otherwise!"
"I reckon... dat sekrit is definitely real!" This thought fermented rapidly among the Orks of Karl-2.
That night, in a corner of the Measure of Discipline that went unnoticed, a metallic sphere abruptly appeared. It was initially only the size of a fist, its surface carved with complex inscriptions. These inscriptions did not belong to any known language; it was the Greenskins' power of "Waaagh!" that brought it into existence from the void.