Ragnar nodded, his massive iron ladle slamming heavily against the rim of the cauldron, sending a few stray droplets of boiling stew splattering outward.
"Da humies love nuthin' more than hidin' up in da sky and blastin' away!" he rumbled in a coarse tone.
"So you tell me, runt, how do we krush dere metal sky-ships? I ain't gonna just sit here and watch 'em turn my mushroom patches and Cauldron City into scrap!"
The surrounding Warbosses quickly voiced their agreement, their blunt features clouded with shared concern. They feared no opponent in a face-to-face scrap, but they possessed absolutely no tactical answer to an Imperial fleet raining continuous ordnance from high orbit.
The primary issue was structural: their ragtag greenskin fleet was entirely outmatched by the oomies' warships, and their surface-based anti-air networks were virtually non-existent. If the greenskin fleet fell in the opening exchange, they would be driven underground, left with no alternative but to watch their territories systematically pulverized into ash.
Yadodo offered a subtle smile, radiating absolute composure.
"Warlord, Chieftains, there is no need for anxiety. I have already mapped out an operational countermeasure."
He stepped toward a crude wooden board nearby, retrieved a piece of charcoal, and swiftly sketched a rudimentary topographical map across the surface.
"First and foremost, leveraging their orbital superiority, the oomies will undoubtedly initiate an indiscriminate, system-wide bombardment to suppress our surface installations."
"Their primary objectives will inevitably lock onto our orbital docks, Mekboy workshops, mushroom cultivation fields, and Cauldron City itself."
"Therefore, our primary mandate is to completely evacuate all critical infrastructure and material reserves away from these vectors."
"And then, right here..."
Yadodo traced several heavy charcoal circles across the topographical grid.
"Finally, we execute the absolute core of the strategy."
Yadodo's voice dropped into a lower register, a profound, calculating cunning flashing across his eyes. "We will..."
He leaned close to Ragnar's massive ear, whispering a sequence of tightly held directives.
Ragnar's red eyes grew wider and wider, the residual irritation draining from his face, replaced instantly by an eruption of intense excitement. He slammed his right hand down onto his thigh with a thunderous crack, the kinetic impact sending a shockwave that caused the nearby scrap-wood tables to rattle violently.
"Waaaagh! Good! Dat is a proper brilliant scheme!" Ragnar roared with booming laughter, his voice vibrating so intensely it caused the corrugated metal warehouse to shudder.
"With a trap like dat, dem oomies won't know what hit 'em!"
While the surrounding Warbosses still failed to grasp the precise logistical details of the plan, witnessing Ragnar's explosive enthusiasm prompted them to join the uproar, raising their weapons in a chaotic cheer.
"Da Boss is da smartest!"
"Proper brutal, Boss!"
"We're gonna chop dem oomies into mince-meat dis time!"
Yadodo observed the cheering horde, the corners of his lips curling upward. His strategic layout was far more intricate than what he had disclosed to these brutes.
One-seven, let us see how you adapt to this blueprint...
...
Meanwhile, at the Karl II space station.
Five days had elapsed since the conclusion of the initial Battle of Karl II. Following three consecutive days and nights of uninterrupted logistical labor, paired with two days of trial operations, the critical supply line connecting Brevis to Karl II was fully operational.
Every day, several colossal Imperial bulk transports departed the Brevis orbital docks packed to maximum capacity with macro-shells, promethium, rations, and fresh penal conscripts, completing a secure transit to the Karl II space station. The staging depots—which had only been depleted by a third during the initial engagement—were now stacked to the rafters with an immense stockpile of munitions.
To secure the astronomical funding required for this crusade, Dominic had issued a sequence of sternly worded "fundraising directives" to the entire aristocratic class of Brevis.
The dispatch explicitly stated that the greenskin horde was a systemic threat to the entire Calixis Sector; should the Orks of Dorito breach the perimeter, no individual regardless of station would survive the fallout. The hour had struck to serve the Imperium and secure their domains; every high-born house was strictly mandated to open their coffers and underwrite the frontline operations.
Any aristocrat who refused the directive or provided an insufficient contribution would instantly be branded with the treasonous label of "collaborating with the xenos." Such a designation would trigger a joint, catastrophic asset-seizure by both the Imperial Administrative Bureau and the Battlefleet.
Under Dominic's draconian pressure, the normally tight-fisted nobles were forced to display immense "generosity." Several houses surrendered vast stockpiles of personal munitions and raw materials; others signed over their private security regiments, and a few went so far as to integrate their family's private void-craft into the vanguard.
Within a brief seventy-two-hour window, Dominic had amassed enough structural capital to sustain continuous fleet broadsides for three full days. Additionally, he acquired twelve private escorts and several hundred thousand noble house-guards to bolster his terrestrial forces.
The defensive perimeter surrounding Karl II had also been substantially overhauled. The fortifications shattered during the initial Ork assault were heavily reinforced with fresh plasteel and rockcrete. Dozens of newly manufactured weapon emplacements and lance-battery towers pierced into the void, their dark barrels pointed toward the stellar approaches. Even if the frontline fleet suffered a tactical reverse, Karl II was now engineered to operate as an unyielding beachhead to cover a strategic withdrawal.
Repairs on the Gemstone were fundamentally complete. Although the void-shield generators had sustained such catastrophic structural trauma that they could only cycle at one-third of their baseline efficiency, every weapon system had been restored to optimal parameters.
Its three dorsal lances flickered with an ominous, building energy, and its one hundred and four macro-cannon batteries were fully loaded with armor-piercing munitions. Following extensive mechanical calibration, the primary plasma core was verified to output eighty percent of its rated power.
Across the orbital docks, the entire Imperial armada stood assembled and ready for transit.
The Gemstone sat anchored at the absolute nexus of the formation, serving as the grand flagship. Grouped tightly around its massive profile were three formidable battlecruisers, flanked further out by twenty cruisers and fifty frigates. This vast assembly of warships formed a striking combat vanguard, the double-headed Aquila embossed across their prow-plates catching the ambient starlight.
Every regiment had completed boarding actions, every weapon system was fully loaded, and the crews stood at absolute readiness—waiting exclusively for the singular directive to launch the total offensive against Dorito.
On the bridge of the Gemstone, Dominic stood positioned before the primary command console, surveying the massive fleet arrayed before him with absolute confidence and anticipation. His bionic arm tapped a rhythmic pattern against the console's edge. This was a pinnacle-grade cybernetic asset recently installed by the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus; outside of a slight unfamiliarity with its neural synchronization, its raw torque and precision surpassed his original flesh limb.
This operational deployment marked his very first independent command of an armada of this magnitude, and his primary opportunity to permanently erase a systemic greenskin threat from the sector.
Securing a total victory in this campaign would elevate him into an Imperial hero, granting him a triumphant return to Holy Terra to receive the Emperor's personal commendation. Furthermore, it would finally grant eternal peace to the souls of Lalfa and every soldier sacrificed under his command.
"My Lord, all warships have reported readiness parameters. We are prepared to break anchor on your mark," the communications officer reported with deep deference.
Dominic took a deep breath, lifting his remaining flesh hand before sweeping it downward in a sharp, decisive gesture.
"Engage engines! Course vector: Planet Dorito!"
"By your command, Lord!"
Following Dominic's directive, the plasma drives of every warship ignited simultaneously. Brilliant blue exhaust plumes bloomed into the vacuum of space like a field of luminescent flowers. The immense Imperial armada glided away from the Karl II space station, locking into a precise combat formation as they charted their transit toward Dorito.
Within the bridge of their auxiliary escort, Raynor and Sarah stood side-by-side, watching the receding structure of the Karl II space station slide past the viewing port.
"The assets are in motion," Raynor murmured softly. "Let's hope this deployment cleanly liquidates Ragnar and eliminates the greenskin factor permanently."
Sarah nodded, a subtle trace of concern surfacing within her violet eyes. "I still perceive a structural anomaly in the data. This entity, Yadodo, is no longer an ordinary variable."
"He has been entering and exiting Ragnar's command center with high frequency. I suspect he is feeding the Warlord advanced strategic concepts."
"Furthermore, for a Grot to formulate a functional containment vector against a Nurgle plague in such a compressed timeframe, while simultaneously securing the absolute trust of an Ork Warlord—he is definitively not a standard greenskin asset."
"I am aware," Raynor replied, his brow furrowing as he locked his gaze onto the void ahead.
He had originally recruited this Grot helper on a whim back at Karl II; he never anticipated the runt would manage to leverage himself into Ragnar's circle of trust at a juncture like this.
"It is fine. He will not act as our adversary. Rest assured."
Recalling the absolute, maxed-out affection rating Yadodo harbored toward him, Raynor possessed total confidence that he could turn the Grot to their side at any given moment.
"Very well."
Observing Raynor's complete composure, Sarah forbore further commentary, instead wrapping her fingers gently around his hand. Regardless of what structural hazards materialized or who declared themselves their enemy, she would remain anchored by his side.
...
The distance separating planet Dorito from the Karl II space station required a standard transit window of only one and a half days.
Navigating at maximum velocity, the Imperial fleet closed the distance in a single day, successfully crossing into the outer perimeter of the Dorito system. Right on cue, the vanguard long-range sensors triggered an immediate tactical alert.
"Report! We have logged a massive concentration of greenskin void-craft. Approximate volume stands at two hundred hulls!"
Dominic strode directly over to the primary holographic star-map, analyzing the scattered configuration of red telemetry nodes blooming across the display.
According to the data streams, the greenskin fleet assets were deployed in an exceptionally fragmented layout. The two hundred Ork warships were spread in a loose, irregular screen across Dorito's orbital trajectory, encircling the planet from practically every vector. While a substantial concentration anchored the primary approach of Dorito, a handful of light escorts patrolled the flanks and rear quadrants.
Superficially, it appeared they intended to utilize this dispersed configuration to dilute the concentrated firepower of the Imperial armada, thereby dragging out the naval engagement and buying critical preparation time for the greenskins on the surface.
"Are they seriously bringing such an antiquated tactic to the theater?" Dominic let out a cold snort, a contemptuous smile gracing his features. "To operate under the assumption that a fragmented line can contain my advance—purely naive."
Yet, hesitating for a fraction of a second, he chose to establish a secure comms link with Raynor. Following the harsh tactical lessons of their previous engagement, he recognized the structural value of collecting Raynor's assessment before finalizing major operational directives.
"Governor Cary, are you logging the telemetry? The greenskins have fragmented their fleet assets," Dominic stated, cutting straight to the operational baseline. "My analysis indicates they intend to dilute our broadside volume and stall our advance, thereby granting their terrestrial forces a broader window to reinforce."
"I possess zero intention of granting them that window," Dominic's tone sharpened with absolute resolve. "My strategic outline mandates that we concentrate our primary capitals, execute an unyielding spearhead along a singular vector, punch straight through the greenskin screen, and claim the high orbital space directly above Dorito."
"Once positioned, we will leverage our macro-batteries and lances to systematically cripple their orbital docks, Mekboy workshops, cultivation fields, and command bastions."
"We will strip them of the logistical capacity to wage an attrition campaign against us."
"To neutralize the flanking vectors that will inevitably attempt to harass our column during the penetration phase, I intend to structure the Gemstone and our three battlecruisers into an absolute core firepower vanguard to carve open the transit lane. The remaining cruisers and frigates will be deployed along the periphery of the spearhead, tasked explicitly with insulating our flanks and rear."
"I just had the Tech-Priests run a preliminary calculus on the greenskins' current deployment density. Given our broadside output, it will be practically impossible for the surrounding Ork warships to close within effective engagement range."
The strategic layout could easily be interpreted as reckless, even manic. Concentrating the entire armada to launch a deep, isolated penetration into enemy space carried catastrophic risks should the greenskins successfully orchestrate a full envelopment. Yet, simultaneously, the plan retained a cold, calculating logic.
While the greenskin fleet possessed superior hull numbers, their structural quality was wildly inconsistent, and their scattered distribution meant they could not organically consolidate an effective encirclement within a compressed timeframe. Provided the Imperial vanguard maintained sufficient velocity, they could break the line and claim the orbital heights before the Orks could mass their strength.
Raynor didn't issue an immediate reply; instead, he cut his eyes toward Sarah. Sarah closed her eyes, her cognitive faculties shifting into high gear as her mind processed an immense wave of operational variables.
Hull volume, broadside output, maximum acceleration, armor thickness values, deployment density of the greenskin screen, projected alien reaction windows...
A mere two seconds later, Sarah opened her eyes, offering Raynor a concise nod.
"The operation is viable. Executing this specific tactic yields an estimated fleet attrition rate of approximately ten percent, while yielding an eighty-nine percent probability of successfully breaching the screen and neutralizing the surface targets. It stands as our current optimal solution."
Raynor pondered the data for a brief moment before speaking into the comms array to address Dominic:
"Lord Dominic, I concur that the baseline of this plan is sound. Concentrating our military mass to execute a rapid breakthrough is undeniably the most effective answer to a dispersed defensive layout."
"However, there are two distinct variables I must caution you to monitor closely," Raynor's tone turned exceptionally serious.
"First, you must absolutely prevent the vanguard from overextending in a frenzy of combat bloodlust. Our primary objective is the structural liquidation of the greenskins' critical surface installations, not an absolute war of annihilation against their void-craft. The moment our ordnance achieves its target parameters, the armada must immediately break contact, execute a tactical withdrawal, and reform the lines."
"Otherwise, if the greenskin fleet manages to fully close the pocket around us and sever our logistical tail, we risk being permanently suffocated in high orbit above Dorito."
"Second, I perceive a structural anomaly regarding this greenskin deployment."
"It aligns entirely too neatly with our tactical expectations—almost as if they have deliberately exposed this vulnerability for our consumption. We must maintain a continuous guard over our line of retreat, ensuring the greenskins possess no opportunity to sever our connection to Karl II."
Hearing the breakdown, Dominic nodded in sober comprehension. His previous focus had been entirely monopolized by the speed of the penetration and the glory of shattering the greenskins' terrestrial assets; he had genuinely neglected to budget contingencies for his rear security.
If Raynor's assessment held true—if the greenskins had engineered this vulnerability as bait to lure the armada into a deep penetration before executing a flanking maneuver to sever their retreat—their entire crusade force would find itself in extreme jeopardy.
"I will integrate your counsel into our operational parameters, Governor Cary," Dominic stated, a trace of residual anxiety tightening his voice.
Simultaneously, a wave of profound relief washed over him; he was incredibly glad he had consulted Raynor. Had he acted strictly on his own impulses, he might have charged ahead blindly, completely blind to his exposed rear. He whipped around instantly, addressing his executive officer:
"Issue an immediate dispatch: elevate the alert status across the Karl II space station and our entire logistical transit lane to maximum parameters."
"The garrison forces left behind at Karl II are to deploy immediately, initiating continuous combat patrols across the length of the supply line."
"The moment any unauthorized greenskin void-craft are logged, they are to avoid decisive engagement and route the data directly to my console."
"Furthermore, instruct the garrison command that should the defensive matrix face an unmanageable crisis, they possess explicit authorization to abandon the Karl II station entirely. It is ultimately nothing more than a hollow, derelict platform; there is zero value in spending lives to secure it. Our mandate is to preserve our active military mass and preserve our strength until the main armada can execute a retrograde transit to reinforce them."
"By your command, Lord!" The adjutant saluted sharply before spinning on his heel to route the directives.
"Very well, Governor Cary, let us prepare to launch the offensive!" Dominic's gaze sharpened, cutting through the bridge like cold steel. "Let us ensure these xenos vermin thoroughly taste the absolute fury of the God-Emperor!"
"Agreed."
The comms link snapped shut. Dominic took a deep breath, broadcasting the general fleet directive across all channels to initiate the grand offensive:
"All warships, focus parameters: lock into spearhead formation, and engage maximum thrust!"
"By your command, Lord Warlord!"