Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 912 (08.911): 'A Crucial Battle'

On the silent bridge of the HMS Swift Eagle, Henry Harvey—a top graduate of the 3810th class of the Abridal Loyalist Academy, Horatio's classmate, and now the Chief of Operations—awaited the captain's final orders with bated breath.

His hands, clasped tightly behind his back, were damp with sweat from nervousness.

A bead of sweat slid silently from his temple and landed on a gleaming medal on his chest—the 'Citizen's Guardian' Medal of Distinguished Service, awarded to commanding officers of warships who achieved outstanding results in the Second Damocles Expedition.

And this was just one of the many medals adorning his chest. On this warship, his honors were second only to Horatio himself.

“Harvey,” Horatio’s voice broke the heavy silence, “If I remember correctly, your father was killed in action on the Spinning Front.”

"That's right, Captain. In the Battle of Montal VII on the Spinner Front."

Harvey's voice was steady, but every word carried the weight of history. "Back then, after the Greenskins crushed the 24th Loyal Guard Regiment from Partoria in the Battle of Great Tof, they went straight for the weak point of the command. It was a humiliating defeat; almost all the Astragalus forces that participated in the battle were wiped out."

“I’ve heard about that battle. The reasons for the defeat are complex. Some say it was the commander-in-chief’s underestimation of the enemy, while others say it was the commanders’ lack of proper command of the different styles of the Astral Legion.”

“But,” Harvey’s voice held an unwavering pride, “everyone fought to the very last moment. I believe they lost with honor.”

“You have the blood of unwavering loyalty, Harvey. Among all the officers…”

Horatio braced his hands on the metal edge of the holographic tactical sand table, leaning slightly forward, his shadow casting a shadow over the virtual landscape below that shimmered with the light of war.

“I have always believed that you are the most suitable candidate to be the commander of the amphibious assault force.”

You are filled with pride and can execute orders efficiently and flawlessly. From military academy onwards, you have always been a role model in the eyes of your instructors and classmates.

It was precisely because of this reliability that you became the Operations Lieutenant of the 'Swift Skyhawk'.

"Now, are you ready, Harvey?" Horatio abruptly raised his head, his gaze sharp as lightning, staring directly into Henry Harvey's eyes.

"I am always ready to be the vanguard for the Emperor!" Harvey puffed out his chest with pride, his military boots making a crisp sound on the deck.

"Sergeant Major Valina."

"Yes!"

"The Hell Vanguard Third Squadron will select the most elite combat personnel from all current personnel."

Anya Fasha, the team captain.

"What are your orders, Captain?"

“Select the best pilots from the ‘Valkyrie’ squadron. They will be responsible for transport and provide fire support and evacuation support for Hellsentry Third Squadron.”

"Yes! I'll take care of it right away."

Horatio's eyes were once again fixed on Henry Harvey like those of a hawk.

"You will be tasked with destroying the data core of the Thinker Array."

"Destroy...destroy?" Henry Harvey's face showed disbelief. "Captain, but didn't the general say..."

"Only those who are alive have the right to talk about ideals, Harvey."

Horatio's voice was cold and devoid of any warmth. "No matter how much the Astragalus Army raves about that thing, or how important it is, we are the Imperial Navy, and we are not under the Astragalus Army's jurisdiction! To me, that's a secondary mission!"

Horatio said it with absolute certainty.

"Trying to reclaim that data core will only lead to the same fate as those agents: dying in the wilderness and becoming food for vultures."

You're one of my best captains, and you're also in charge of forming the first Imperial Navy amphibious assault force. So, blow up that damn data core, and then retreat immediately.

Operational deployment concluded. Now, dismissed! Prepare for battle!
-
Minerva.

It is said that the planet's name originated from the ancient "Anjou Expedition".

The conquerors from Holy Terra crowned this planet in the name of the goddess of wisdom and war.

Since then, it has become the most important frontline storage world in the Calissis Sector, an indispensable foothold for the Empire's expeditions to the endless territories beyond the starlight.

Countless new recruits and reservists have been trained here, and hundreds of millions of tons of supplies have been allocated from here to support thousands of wars.

What truly made this planet famous was the great Makarius Expedition.

In 392.M41, the great Sun Lord Marcarius launched the magnificent Holy War from this very place.

His magnificent war fleet recaptured hundreds of planets that had lost contact with Holy Terra during the Great Rebellion and Apostasy.

Some imperial historians have said that the maximum distance of the Sun Lord Marcarius's expeditions was not determined by the strength of his massive war fleet, but by the maximum logistical transport range of Minerva.

Once this great planet falls, the entire Calesis Sector will be stripped of its war-making backbone for hundreds of years to come, becoming a dilapidated house that will crumble at the slightest kick.

The defeat in the Battle of the Spinning Front was merely the most obvious consequence of the planet's fall.

This is why the Duchy of Severus, which was suffering repeated defeats at the hands of the Empire, chose to devote all its national strength to a desperate, all-or-nothing gamble against Minerva.

When the Greenskins appeared in this sea of ​​stars, the mountains of bizarre war creations attracted them to rush towards the planet without regard for anything else.

Kaka! Kaka!
The laser guns lined up on the armory racks were picked up by determined hands.

The heavy sound of military boots pounding on the deck echoed like a torrent of steel in the confined troop transport compartment.

The neat and uniform soldiers, amidst the roars of officers and sergeants at all levels, began to be reorganized into combat units about to be thrown into hell.

Old Joe's youngest son and eldest brother were carrying a heavy armory case through the crowded deck, their breathing heavy from the weight.

Boom!
The crates were carried out through the fire doors of the deep warehouse and landed heavily on the busy deck.

"Sailors! Listen up!"

A bosun roared at the assembled sailors, his voice hoarse but powerful, “Get your equipment! This is no joke, but it’s more important than any armed conscription you’ve ever experienced!”

You will be deployed to the ground at any time! Many of us come from lower-middle hives, and I hope you haven't forgotten how you used to lick blood from the edge of a knife! Once you're on the surface, kill anything that isn't human!

"Hoo-ha!" the sailors responded with a roar.

“This is going to be an even bigger battle,” the younger son said to his older brother.

"That's right. The captain has issued a mobilization order, leaving only the minimum number of sailors and crew to maintain the ship's navigation and combat operations."

"Was the fighting on the ground... really that bad?"

The eldest brother silently shook his head.

"I don't know. I hope... I don't."

(End of this chapter)