Warhammer: Empire Reboot

They were organized by communications officers, marked by staff officers, transcribed by servo skulls, entered by tactical servo machines, and then delivered to Leontus, Guilliman, and the commanders of each theater of operations.

The system of the Holy Face is not incompetent.

On the contrary, it was already the highest level the empire could offer.

The brain of Sun Lord Leontus has been deeply mechanically enhanced, enabling it to process hundreds or even thousands of sector-level battle reports simultaneously.

He could calculate on a star map how many hours of depth a civilian death in an agricultural world would buy for Ogram's flank, and within thirty seconds, he could determine whether an Astragalus army should withdraw, be replenished, or be left to wear down the Tyranid swarm.

Guilliman, needless to say, was a marvel of warfare and administration during the Great Crusades.

He could process frontline battle reports while simultaneously contemplating the ever-rotten, never-ending problems of logistics, the fleet, politics, the state religion, and the Terran nobility.

But there are too many messy things to deal with on the battlefield in the Taiping Starfield.

One world is calling for help, another is out of contact; one fleet is requesting fuel, another is asking for torpedoes; a battle group company needs to evacuate, a casting satellite refuses to release its stockpile, and a defense line that could clearly hold out is forced to request a retreat due to the disruption of its upstream supply lines.

But when they all come at once, the command post becomes a tomb drowned out by noise.

Lawson issued only one order.

"Three thousand cornerstone sequences take over the command and control of the war zone and its areas."

The operational areas of the Taiping Starfield, which are currently controllable, semi-controllable, and out of control, have been re-divided into three thousand zones.

Each region has a designated person in charge of the Cornerstone Sequence.

They were allocated regional computing power, connected to the Lawson central scheduling link, and read the fleet status within their respective regions.

The large screen in the frontline command post began to refresh rapidly.

Red alert, yellow standby, green executable, black and gold taken over—tens of thousands of entries appear, merge, disappear, and update on the screen.

[Ogram Outer Ring Seventh Supply Line: Fuel Shortage, Allocating San Bartolo Low-Rail Stockpile.]

[Karrian-17 Northern Hemisphere: Increased synaptic node clearance rate; foundation ground forces can be deployed 40 minutes earlier.]

[Hermia-9: Women and children evacuation 31% complete; Icefield mining machine upgrade progress lagging; additional drone units added.]

[Third Naval Squadron: Torpedo inventory insufficient; close-range combat with the swarm of biological ships prohibited; long-range suppression instead.]

[Imperial Guard Squad Golden Spearhead: Current mission complete, preparing for static transfer.]

[White Sanctuary Third Company: Local defense rights retained, integrated with Calhos Fortress fire control.]

[Astral Army 863rd Army: Overstaying duty, reassigned to Grass Harvest Belt Landing Zone 2.]

[M-42 Cast Satellite: Inventory suppression ineffective, forced release of anti-aircraft gun barrels and plasma batteries.]

Information poured into the command post like a torrential downpour.

The communications officers initially tried to keep up, but after a few minutes they had to admit that they had gone from being “information processors” to “confirmers of execution status.”

What used to require an entire staff group to debate for twenty minutes regarding troop allocation can now be completed in seconds, including matching needs, identifying risks, simulating routes, and issuing orders.

Leontus stared at the large screen.

In his mechanical eyes, the data stream flashed by at a speed imperceptible to the human eye.

As the Lord of the Sun, he was used to processing massive amounts of battle reports simultaneously and switching his thoughts between hundreds of battlefields. Yet, even he felt a pressure he rarely experienced at this moment.

It's not that I can't understand it, it's just that the updates are too fast.

No command is isolated.

They are interconnected and influence each other, and a change in one can affect the entire area.

Leontus could understand this logic.

He could even tell that most of the scheduling was accurate.

That's the scariest part.

If it's just fast and chaotic, then it's just another kind of disaster.

After the access of the three thousand cornerstone sequences of Klossen, the information in the theater of operations became not only faster but also clearer.

The requests for aid, retreat, supplies, and counterattacks that were originally tangled together like a mess of hemp were untangled one by one and then rewoven into a war network that could cover the entire Pacific Starfield.

Guilliman was also looking at the big screen.

He finally understood why Lawson was able to untangle the dark side of the empire from a tangled mess within a few years.

This is not simply a matter of force.

Lawson's subordinates are terrifyingly good at handling things...

As Guilliman watched Lawson's retreating figure, a sense of ease he hadn't felt in a long time washed over him.

Finally, someone is willing to share this responsibility with him!

In the past, he had to be both regent and commander-in-chief; he had to keep Terra in check while also mobilizing the front lines; he had to secure ammunition for the Astronauts while dealing with the Chapter Masters' demands for honor, and also contend with the High Lords, the State Church, and the Inquisition who always seemed to be creating trouble at the right time.

Now, at least on the battlefield of the Pacific Starfield, Lawson has seized control of these messy situations.

After Lawson took over frontline command, the biggest change in the Pacific Starfield battlefield was that all the combat forces that were originally scattered and waiting for orders were suddenly stuffed back into the war machine.

No unit remained in the rear awaiting further instructions.

No squadron can stand alone guarding a defensive line that has lost its strategic value.

The Astral Army, Navy, Astartes, Battle Sisters, Mechanicus, Homeland Defense Force, the foundational and combat sequences of the Empire's dark side, Flying Bear Motorcycles, and construction drone swarms were all re-marked, reclassified, and repositioned to their most suitable locations by the Swarm Dispatch Network.

The entire Pacific Starfield was like a war machine that had been rusted and slowed down by bureaucracy for thousands of years. Lawson kicked open the outer shell and put all the gears that were not yet broken back together.

The Astral Army armored brigade, which was originally waiting for supplies in the rear, was transferred to the inner ring defense line of the fortified agricultural world. They were no longer engaged in meaningless mobile operations, but were only responsible for guarding the fire intersection point that the drones had just repaired.

The battle nuns were pulled from their symbolic escort missions and thrown into the crumbling hive city's refuge, where they used faith, discipline, and fire to stabilize millions of civilians.

The Astartes squads were split up and assigned to the most critical nodes, no longer holding their own honor posts, but coordinating with the combat sequence to carry out assault decapitation strikes, position reinforcements, anti-landing clearing operations, and critical personnel rescues.

The mechanical instructors were evacuated from warehouses and rear facilities to protect the industrial nests where drones were being built.

The Homeland Defense Forces were reassigned to the logistics front, responsible for transporting ammunition, maintaining transportation lines, guarding underground food depots, and assisting in the evacuation of civilians.

Each team was placed in the position where it could generate the most value.

Lawson would not allow any resources to be wasted.

In his operational logic, the so-called "elite" troops are not meant to be displayed near the command post for show, nor are the so-called "honor troops" meant to wait for the most dignified moment to make their appearance.

There are only two types of units on the battlefield.

Units that are currently in use, and units that should be redistributed immediately.

Of all the forces that were redistributed, the Imperial Guard received the heaviest tasks.

Since the Imperial Guard is hailed as one of the strongest warriors in the empire, they should be positioned in the toughest and most dangerous places.

Therefore, a static control field was specially set up deep inside the front command post.

All Imperial Guard squads were assigned to high-priority mission chains.

Beneath the Hermia-9 ice plains, the Tyrannosaurus node interfered with the fortified construction. A squad of Imperial Guards stepped out of the static field, broke through the mine tunnel within three minutes, and pinned the synaptic beast to the depths of the ice.

Mission accomplished, portal open.

The next moment, they appeared in the San Bartolo low-orbit grain silo complex.

The vacuum platform is having its outer walls torn open by boarding creatures, and the naval technical team is trapped inside the fire control core.

The Imperial Guard squad cut into the platform, and the Watcher's Spear drew a golden arc in the low gravity environment, instantly severing several giant creatures that were trying to bite through the fire control hatch.

Mission accomplished, the portal reopens.

This time, they were sent to the Southern Hemisphere, Carian-17.

A forward command fortress is surrounded by a swarm of Zerg, and the orbital fire control key has not yet been uploaded.

The Imperial Guard and the combat formation arrived simultaneously. The golden-armored soldiers broke through the insect swarm from the front, while the black-armored soldiers cut off the guard swarm from the flanks. Twelve minutes later, the fire control key was uploaded, and the fortress defenders retreated into the underground transportation line.

Mission accomplished, move on to the next location.

The Imperial Guards, like golden javelins being hurled at high speed, repeatedly pierced through the most dangerous nodes in the Pacific Starfield.

They have no rest window, or rather, their rest is compressed into a few minutes of state calibration between hysteresis transitions.

The Imperial Guards did not complain; they were not a complaining unit to begin with.

These golden warriors may be arrogant, cold-blooded, and may only ever acknowledge the supreme will of the Emperor himself, but as long as an order is recognized as an extension of the Emperor's will, their execution is almost perfect.

Lawson was quite satisfied with this; in some ways, the Imperial Guard was like the most hardworking laborers.

As a result, the battlefield rhythm in the Pacific Starfield changed significantly, and it was no longer like a tattered rag being torn apart by the swarm of insects.

The Imperial Holy Face is not lacking in combat power.

What it lacks is someone to force all its fighting forces to where they need to go.

After stabilizing the ground theater, Lawson immediately sent Guilliman into space.

Space is the true Achilles' heel of the Pacific region.

On the ground, as long as the planets haven't been completely swallowed up, Lawson can transform them into fortresses, ensuring that the Tyranid swarm gets bitten by the cannons with every step it takes.

But if space were completely breached, all of this would lose its meaning.

Once the Zerg hive fleet presses above a planet's orbit, the spore release will transform from scattered landings into a global biostorm.

The fortress complex that drones have just built will be submerged layer by layer by an endless rain of creatures.

Lawson can save the ground, but he has no way to immediately move the Empire's main fleet from the dark side to the Pacific region.

The waterways, naval bases, fuel transshipment routes, fleet organization, and sector defenses here remain in the hands of the Imperial Navy and Guilliman.

Even with its superior static projection capabilities, Rosen cannot mobilize the main battleships, at least not for the time being.

Therefore, space warfare must be left to Guilliman.

To be precise, it was handed over to the Imperial Navy, the Ultramarines fleet, the Altrama support fleet, and all the orbital firepower in the Pacific region that had not yet been eaten away by the Zerg under Guilliman's command.

The Imperial Navy is not having an easy time facing the Tyranid fleet.

Many people who have never actually witnessed the Terran Void Wars may subconsciously have the misconception that since the Zerg Hive fleet is made of biomass, how could it possibly withstand the Imperial warships' macro cannons, light spears, and torpedoes?

This idea is quite normal; it imagines the Tyranids as beasts on the planet Empire.

But the Tyranid fleet isn't a bunch of meat growing in space.