Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 829, 08.828: "Launching the Battle at the Perfect Timing"

On the bridge of the Imperial assault ship E-99.

Lieutenant Colonel Kretzmer did not sit on the towering command throne, but stood on the command platform, as calm as a statue.

He slowly put down the binoculars in his hand. The paint on the equipment had been worn away by his grip over the years, revealing the underlying metallic color.

This piece of equipment is not a brand-new standard issue item, but a faithful testament to his many years of service.

The edge of the telescope's rubber eyepiece left a pair of dark red marks around his eye sockets. These were not signs of fatigue, but rather the professional marks left by his long-term vigilance as a Void Hunter.

This command style, which relies on personal senses and experience rather than being directly connected to the ship's cold data streams, defines this outstanding attack ship commander.

He trusted his own eyes more than machine reports; this seemingly outdated persistence was a survival instinct honed through countless life-or-death struggles in the void.

“Captain,” the communications officer’s voice came through the internal communicator, clear and restrained, “we have received attack authorization from Fleet Commander, Lord Horatio Cochrane.”

The journey of this instruction is far more complex than the transmission of sound.

It was initially received by the ship's psionic communications choir in the form of a psionic whisper, traversing the chaotic currents of the warp.

This torrent of symbols, images, and metaphors was only transformed into text that could be understood by mortals after being decoded by the ship's calculator shrine.

The communications officer's console is a novel and mysterious creation that combines brass buttons, illuminated vacuum tubes, and flashing data panels.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, and the decryption code was quickly interpreted on the control panel screen to reveal the fleet commander's orders.

Finally, the command, after being filtered and translated through multiple layers, was displayed on the data panel on the armrest of the command throne in the form of the Imperial Navy's standard void-cant:

"...to strike first when the enemy launches an attack."

Lieutenant Colonel Kretzmer nodded slightly, indicating that he had received the order.

His silence carried more weight than any words.
-
After the order was given, a tense silence fell once again on the bridge of the E-99 attack ship.

The crew members performed their duties with precision and restraint, while only the data stream on the control panel flowed silently.

A young naval cadet, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, glanced back and forth between his control console and the motionless back of Lieutenant Commander Kretschmer on the command platform.

"Is Lieutenant Colonel Pierre Dumanor Le Pelli's warship ready?" Krezimer's voice suddenly broke the silence.

"Ready, sir!" the combat officer replied immediately.

"Begin warming up the torpedoes. Do not launch without my order, even if the enemy is right in front of us." Krezimer's command was cold and efficient, without a trace of emotional fluctuation, like tightly meshed gears driving the war machine to operate efficiently.

The sliding cover of the torpedo silo opened silently, revealing the Helios torpedoes gleaming silver inside.

These torpedoes are equipped with heat seekers and can be detonated by radio commands, making them a powerful tool for hunting down ambushers.

“Sir,” the cadet finally couldn’t help but whisper to the lieutenant beside him, “what do you think Lieutenant Colonel Kretschmer is waiting for? We’ve already picked up the attackers’ signal!”

The lieutenant's gaze never left his tactical display screen, his voice steady and experienced: "You only need to focus on your duties, but the captain has many more things to consider."

We only have one chance to launch a surprise attack. Once the torpedo leaves its launch tube, our own position will be exposed. If we cannot achieve a decisive victory, we will go from hunter to prey.

He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully so that the young man could better understand.

"The reason why Colonel Horatio, the Lord, values ​​our attack ships is precisely because of our stealth and torpedo firepower."

Although we are not as good as escort ships in naval gun battles, we are experts at hunting down ambush ships of the same class.

As for how to counter enemy attack ships, Colonel Lord summarized many experiences and lessons from his clashes with the Tau Empire's commerce raiding fleet during the Second Damocles Bay Expedition, which have been written into the training manual in blood.

Lieutenant Colonel Kretschmer and Lieutenant Colonel Paley were both elite commerce raiders personally trained by Lord Cochrane. They understood that the perfect ambush required the perfect timing.

The lieutenant's explanation redefines Kretschmer's patience from a perplexing delay to a tactical discipline rooted in a harsh war history.

They were not facing mindless beasts, but equally cunning hunters.
-
Lieutenant Colonel Kretzmer raised his binoculars again.

He was not observing the void itself, but rather a "herd" composed of a vast fleet of merchant ships.

Those bulky transport ships, their hulls scarred by thousands of years of sailing, their navigation lights flickering like faint stars in the darkness.

He examined the patrol route of the escorting Sword-class frigates. Although their trajectory was the optimal choice for escort, the fact that most of the escort fleet's strength was diverted to chasing the aliens left too many predictable gaps for potential predators.

He wasn't looking for enemies, but rather for weaknesses that enemies could exploit.

He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to lure the enemy into a deadly trap, an irresistible moment of chaos created by the universe itself.

"Captain, the astronomical instrument has detected a new stellar flare!" The astronomical officer's voice came from the tactical sonic array grille, carrying a professional sense of urgency.

His post was responsible for monitoring all energy fluctuations and subspace signals around the ship, and at that moment, the curve representing stellar activity on his console was rising sharply, overwhelming normal readings.

"Ensure emergency power is available." Kretzmer's order was brief and forceful.

Outside the massive lead crystal window of the bridge, a distant star suddenly emitted a white-gold halo that could not be seen with the naked eye, and a silent tsunami of energy was sweeping in at an astonishing speed.

As the electromagnetic pulse of the flare reached the edge of the fleet, a visible ripple appeared near the shadow field of the E-99 assault ship, and the low-powered Void Shield diverted the deadly torrent of radiation into the distorted warp.

The lights inside the bridge flickered violently, and then with a heavy mechanical switching sound, emergency red combat lighting replaced the constant light strip, staining the entire space with a blood-red hue.

However, those merchant ships with outdated technology and poor maintenance were not so lucky.

Despite prior warnings, several cargo ships located on the outer edge of the convoy still suffered electrical burnouts and were plunged into darkness.

Like out-of-control behemoths, they helplessly broke away from the formation and slowly drifted into deep space. The crew on board were urgently repairing the power supply system in an attempt to restore power as quickly as possible.

This was the moment Kretzmer had been waiting for. The dramatic change in the environment, a natural force that could separate prey from the flock, was the last opportunity for the enemy to seize and attack.

If a battle had to be fought at the perfect moment, it would be now.

(End of this chapter)