In another year, using the bigger fleet at my disposal and thousands of tech-priests and a million servitors we have constructed a rather solid defense ring around the planet, iron and nickel, even iridium and tungsten filled asteroids dragged into orbit and fortified with spare or improvised weapons.
My on-board forge is churning more missiles and las-cannons now, after it made a thousand plasma reactors to be installed as power sources for the new forts.
Sadly we're on limited supplies of torpedoes, and those need a full Forge World to get produced. I asked Antax's Fabricator to send everything they can spare, torpedoes and fighters and bombs and perhaps another Manufactorum ship.
Their help doesn't arrive in ti.
A small hive fleet descends upon Sotha, possibly drawn by the psychic emitter of the at optimal range." I command as the Tyranids ships manage to shatter a few forts and break through.
I unleash the Litany's last torpedoes at the writhing swarm of tendrils and hungry mouths. A dozen wounded void organisms explode in a shower of gore and guts and plasma.
The lance batteries finish off the dying bio ships before they can extend harpoons and tendrils to grapple my ship.
"Voids shields to maximum!" I shout of the vox channel.
A blue flare passes over my fleet, and then two blinding lights as the Nova Cannons detonate in the midst of the huge Tyranid swarm.
Our auspex sensors are blinded for a minute, but as the windows lose the protective tint I can simply look out the window. More than half of the hive fleet is gone and the survivors are all bleeding and floating listless.
"Destroyers, target the smallest bioships individually. Capital ships, focus fire on the largest enemies that remain. Frigates, maintain protective cover. Light cruisers, free to engage as well, at high speed." I send on a fleet wide channel.
Without autistic sensors, I do have a much clearer view of the battlefield.
It's almost like playing an RTS. With a bolter to your head if you ss up.
The Litany begs in mind to be sent forward as well and rip the enemy to shreds. Not yet, buddy.
"Long range augury, maximum power to x-ray scanners." I ask my cousin manning the console.
We have the extra 7 percent range and an enemy might not be cautious enough.
"Contact, far range, above elliptic. Eldar ship possibly." the auspex station reports just as the Eldar engage their holographic field and vanish.
I sigh inward. Damn elves with future seeing powers. They may be sneaky and crafty, but the Tyranids are invisible for them just like I am. And soon, their Craftworld will cross the path of the largest tendril from Hive Fleet Kraken.
No need to beg them to help. They will fight or be eaten alive.
I just worry what other foe they might send next. Probably the Orks.
Even with two battleships and the whole supporting fleet it will be bad, since a large Waaagh ignores physical laws.
I just wonder why they are trying to save the Necrons.
Damn it. Xeno minds and xeno reasons. Probably trying to revive so dead Eldar God. Or just weaken the Imperium. Probably both of these reasons and a dozen more.
Thousands of tyranids spores survive our blockade and make landing on Sotha, and I order the nearest ships to fire beam weapons at the landing sites.
It's orbital bombardnt and not friendly fire. A quarter of the planet bursts into huge forest fires and volcanic eruptions and a million civilians die.
They won't be eaten alive, so it's perhaps Emperor's rcy.
Our fighters and frigates strain to contain the invasion, and on the ground the regints and the marines fight the tyranids organisms in close combat, too close for orbital fire support.
The Litany unloads all the krak missiles and lets them descend through the atmosphere in near free fall, before engaging the long range cogitators and target the biggest bugs they can find.
Like the fists of the Emperor, krak missiles impact the hated enemies at trendous speed shattering their carapace armor and explode deep inside.
With this final aid, the regints and the Scythe marines, aided by the tech-priests and servitors have a larger chance of victory, as the tyranid forces are denied their greatest champions.
"You can go, if you want. I'll be in my study room." I tell my guard marines, including Ludvaius.
With a polite nod, the Scythe squad and the Deathwatch marine check the auspex sensors one last ti before rushing for an assault shuttle.
Combat is bred into them, and a dozen space marines would turn the tide even more.
Ludvaius pats my head and stays. "Not getting rid of so easily, sneaky trader." he comnts as Minoris glances at in confusion.
"That was quick, Revelator. Did we lose a ship again?" he asks with childish innocence.
"Nah. I haven't drank wine for a week. My cogitators worked at full efficiency today, so zero loses." I explain, half-joking.
Then I open a bottle and take a long gulp. The taste is...damn it. Who drugged my wine?
As I fall into my armchair, I see Justine hold her thumb up at Ludvaius.
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