Badab Prime, Palace of Thorns.
This grand fortress was not only the monastery-fortress of the Astral Claws but also the absolute seat of power for the entire Maelstrom Zone. Like a dormant behemoth, it crouched atop the hive city, overlooking the industrial pipelines and slums pulsing below like blood vessels.
Right now, deep within the strategic briefing room, the air was heavy enough to condense into droplets. The only sounds were the faint hum of servo-skulls hovering in the air and the occasional low whine of heavy power armor servos.
A holographic star map was projected in the center of a massive black basalt round table, emitting a faint, cold glow that cast shifting shadows across the faces of the giants gathered around it.
Seated around the table were the supreme commanders of the Maelstrom Warders alliance: Lufgt Huron, Chapter Master of the Astral Claws and the "Tyrant of Badab"; Malakim Phoros, Chapter Master of the Lamenters; Coisan, Chapter Master of the Mantis Warriors; and Akash, Chapter Master of the Executioners.
Alongside these giants of the Adeptus Astartes sat two mortal commanders: the commander-in-chief of the Tyrant's Legion, the Astral Claws' mortal auxiliary force, and Joker, the commander of the Helldiver Legion.
Huron stood before the holographic map, his bionic eye gleaming red in the dim light. His command staff swept across the chaotic fringes of the Maelstrom, his booming, authoritative voice echoing through the hall: "Brothers, the scum of Chaos are like sewer rats. They fear the light and only strike from behind.
Based on data models from the past three centuries and our monitoring of warp tides, I believe they are most likely hiding in this region known as the 'Sorrow Nebula.' The warp storms there can perfectly mask their exhaust emissions, and it is far enough from the main Imperial shipping lanes to serve as an ideal staging ground—"
Huron's analysis was incisive, demonstrating his capabilities as a top-tier strategist. However, just as he was holding forth on his strategic concepts, preparing to draft a detailed, multi-pronged encirclement and search plan, a calm and somewhat abrupt voice rang out.
"Apologies for the interruption, Chapter Master Huron. Something has happened."
Huron frowned slightly and turned to look at the speaker—Joker. Though Huron disliked being interrupted, especially by a mortal, he suppressed his flash of annoyance considering the incredible combat efficiency and recent stellar achievements of the Helldiver Legion.
"What is it, Commander Joker?" Huron asked. "I hope this news justifies interrupting an Astartes war council."
Joker stood up, unfazed by the intense gazes of the giants around him. Skipping any pleasantries, he directly input a string of commands into the control panel before him. "My soldiers just reported to me that an exceptionally massive fleet has appeared within the Charybdis warp route. Judging by the characteristics of the vessels and their warped hull structures, it is glaringly obvious they are composed entirely of the Archenemy."
As he spoke, Joker tapped his finger, and a peaceful corner of the holographic star map immediately lit up with a prominent, pulsing red dot, precisely marking the location where the fleet was encountered. It was accompanied by a blurry image, clearly captured under extreme interference, showing nightmare-like warships cutting through the warp mists.
Instantly, the atmosphere in the briefing room shifted. The sharp gazes of several Chapter Masters pierced toward that red dot like swords.
"The Charybdis route?" Akash, Chapter Master of the Executioners, narrowed his eyes. "That is one of the most unstable routes deep within the Maelstrom. The psychic turbulence there is like a meat grinder. Usually, only madmen or idiots in a hurry to die would take it."
Huron stared at the coordinates, his expression turning solemn. He realized this wasn't just a simple hit-and-run raid. "Are you certain? Joker, the accuracy of this intel is paramount. If we deploy the fleet based on false information, the consequences will be disastrous."
"Absolutely certain," Joker said firmly, without a shred of hesitation in his tone. He was certain, of course, because just a few minutes ago, a suicide scout ship piloted by a player had been blasted into ash there. Upon respawning, the player immediately sent back screenshots and coordinates, even complaining in the global chat about how absurdly overpowered the enemy's firepower was.
Looking at the map, Phoros, Chapter Master of the Lamenters, traced a few lines in the air, a hint of worry surfacing in his eyes. "If they are at this position—there are many possibilities for where they go next. They could strike north into the poorly defended Endymion Cluster, or head west to raid those vital industrial worlds to replenish their supplies."
Phoros paused, his gaze following the extension of the route all the way to its terminus, his pupils contracting slightly. "But considering the scale of this fleet and such an aggressive vector, I believe the highest probability remains—"
"They are heading straight for us, the Palace of Thorns," Huron cut in. A dangerous light flickered in his eyes—the thrill of a hunter seeing his prey willingly walk into the trap.
"Interesting." Huron crossed his arms, a brutal grin actually forming on his face, born of a tyrant's fierce arrogance. "I thought they were just a bunch of cowards who only knew how to hide in the shadows and cause nuisance like fleas.
I didn't expect that among these traitors, there actually existed someone with both sanity and courage. What do they want? A decapitation strike? To strike straight at the heart and settle everything in one battle?"
This head-on style actually suited Huron's taste perfectly. He was sick of playing hide-and-seek; what he craved was a frontal collision of iron and blood.
Huron turned to look at Joker, his gaze holding an extra layer of approval and anticipation. "However, a single coordinate isn't enough. We need more reports to confirm their final intent. If they continue to appear along this warp route, moving toward Badab, then they are definitively coming for us."
Joker immediately understood Huron's meaning. For any other faction, maintaining continuous reconnaissance within the warp was an almost impossible task, as it meant sending countless ships to their deaths or possessing profound prophetic abilities.
But for Helldivers, this wasn't a problem at all.
"Rest assured, Chapter Master Huron," Joker replied calmly, as if discussing a trivial matter. "Helldiver have scouts scattered across all known warp routes and Mandeville points, and we even have eyes in some unknown regions. We do not count the casualties; thousands of single-pilot scout vessels stand ready to turn into fireballs just to transmit that final glimpse of intelligence. As long as they aren't sailing through completely chaotic warp storms, we will spot them no matter where they appear."
Hearing this, the Chapter Masters present all showed looks of astonishment. Deploying surveillance across all warp routes? Sacrificing thousands of lives just for vision? How much manpower and resources would that require?
How many lives did this group of mortals have to throw into that bottomless pit? What methods were they using to transmit information? This utter disregard for life sent a slight chill even down the spines of the Astartes, but it was precisely this madness that gave them a unique value in this desperate universe.
Looking at Joker's confident demeanor, Huron chose to believe him. He didn't care about the process, only the results.
"Good! Very good!" Huron slammed his hand onto the table, the immense force causing the holographic projection to shake. He was overjoyed.
"This is the value of intelligence! These traitors thought they were being stealthy, hoping to launch a surprise attack on us. Little do they know, their every move is right under our noses!"
Huron looked at the red dot on the star map, as if already seeing the enemy's destruction. He waved his massive hand, filled with soaring confidence:
"Having mastered the enemy's movements, we've already won half the battle before it even starts! Brothers, assemble your companies immediately and check your bolters. Since the guests have come to our door on their own accord, we must prepare the grandest welcome ceremony. Let them know that Badab holds not just the Palace of Thorns, but also the graves to bury traitors!"