Well done!"
As Adam gazed impassively at the shattered husk of the enemy vessel drifting amidst the void, a hololithic projection flickered to life before him, Qin Mo's image appearing at the center of his tactical display.
Qin Mo's expression was one of calm satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with unmistakable approval.
For a fleeting mont, Adam allowed himself the slightest of smiles before replying in his usual asured tone:
"I am unworthy of your praise, my lord. I allowed the situation to spiral beyond ideal paraters. The enemy warship managed to reach ramming distance before we neutralized it."
"That is to be expected." Qin Mo's voice carried nothing but genuine, unflinching admiration. "This was your first real engagent, your first ti commanding during actual void warfare. Even I have never participated in a true fleet battle. Your discipline and poise were exemplary."
His gaze lingered on Adam through the flickering hololith, unwavering and almost paternal.
"Your opponent was a seasoned commander. Using his prow ram like that? A classic maneuver. He had experience, you did not. But that is simply a matter of ti. You will learn, and you will grow."
Qin Mo spoke not as a superior offering comfort, but because he genuinely believed it.
His expectations had been far more modest. These voidn had trained for less than a year; as long as they could fire their weapons properly and not destroy their own ships, that would have been sufficient.
Instead, they had not only functioned, they had triumphed.
"Your leniency is appreciated." Adam bowed his head slightly in acknowledgnt.
Qin Mo nodded.
"Maintain your composure. Continue the orbital bombardnt."
Then, as if rembering sothing, he added:
"None of our ships have been nad. I had planned to assign nas myself, but given your outstanding performance, you and your fellow captains shall have the honor of naming them."
Adam's eyebrows twitched in mild surprise, but he quickly nodded.
"We will require so ti to deliberate."
"No rush," Qin Mo said. The hololith dimd and vanished, leaving only silence.
For a mont, Adam stood motionless, staring at the empty space where the hololithic projection had been.
Then, despite himself, his lips curled into an uncontrollable smile.
He knew, as a devoted servant of the Angel, he was not supposed to indulge in emotions.
But he could not help it.
This was, without question, the most significant day of his life.
He had led his forces to annihilate the enemy fleet. He had executed his orders flawlessly.
And most importantly, he had received direct praise from Him.
A muffled cough.
Adam quickly schooled his expression back to neutrality and issued his next order in his usual even tone:
"Resu orbital bombardnt."
....
The Ground War
The battle was all but decided.
What remained was the inevitable purge of the defeated.
While the Imperial fleet continued scouring the planet's major cities from orbit, the Imperial Guard regints were moving in to cleanse the remaining strongholds.
Among them was the newly-ford 44th Regint.
Though composed almost entirely of fresh recruits, they placed imnse faith in their regint's designation. The legendary Lord Commander Qin Mo had once served in the 44th. Surely, that number was a sign of fortune.
Their objective was a fortified city, ensconced in a valley along the planet's equator. Its towering bulwark-style defenses, reinforced by the naturally treacherous terrain, made it a formidable stronghold.
The 44th Regint had already launched a direct assault on its weakest defenses, but had been repelled.
At that mont, the regint's only experienced soldier, Grot stepped forward.
"I'll go in alone."
His plan was simple. He would infiltrate the city's outskirts, contact an old friend among the Thunderborns, and coordinate a precision bombardnt on the walls.
As de facto leader of the regint, Grot's request was granted without hesitation.
Wearing his scarred but immaculately maintained Praetorian-pattern power armor, Grot moved swiftly through the rocky terrain. Within monts, he reached a large boulder overlooking the city's walls.
He did not, however, activate his communicator.
Instead, he stepped out into the open.
Imdiately, the city's defenders spotted him.
The walls erupted with furious gunfire, heavy weapons zeroing in on his form, while lascannons and macro-cannons thundered overhead, saturating the air with lethal ordnance.
Grot closed his eyes and murmured.
"Let die."
But the impact never ca.
Instead, a resplendent, golden figure descended from above with a thunderclap of displaced air and light.
A Thunderborn.
With practiced ease, the towering warrior raised his weapon. His shoulder-mounted cannons reconfigured, cycling through various modes.
Three plasma spheres launched. Three las-beams seared through the walls.
Each shot rivaled an entire artillery barrage.
The fortress walls shattered under the relentless bombardnt. Enemy soldiers were torn apart by the precision fire.
Then, the Thunderborn deactivated his gravity shield, grabbed Grot by the head, and flung him back behind cover.
The Thunderborn followed, stepping into the shelter of the boulder before removing his helt.
"Are you insane?" the warrior snarled. "If I hadn't been assigned nearby, you'd be a corpse right now!"
Grot's eyes widened. He recognized the voice.
It was Grey.
"You don't understand what I've been through." Grot muttered, his voice strained.
Grey shoved him hard.
"You were discharged. You think I don't know that?"
"No, that's not—"
Grot hesitated. He wanted to explain.
To explain how Adam, a devoted Servant of the Angel, had tried to help him, but ultimately abandoned him as unsalvageable.
But Grey did not know that. If he did, he would have reported it to Qin Mo imdiately.
"Save it for after the battle." Grey donned his helt once more.
He stepped forward, preparing to engage the remaining forces within the city.
Then, a disquieting anomaly caught Grey's keen eye.
The defenders were not reinforcing the walls.
They were not retaliating against the advancing Imperial forces.
Instead, they were firing into their own city.
From behind the shattered battlents, sothing imnse stirred.
A colossal, golden war machine stepped into view behind the walls.
Its massive chainblade cleaved through entire squadrons of enemy troops.
Another Knight-class war engine burst through a section of the wall, sending debris flying as it crashed through the enemy defenses.
Grey had seen Knights before.
During the Hive War, a traitor Knight had fought for the opposition.
But these machines were not firing on the First Legion.
They were attacking the defenders of Talon II.
"Throne of Terra, those are Knights!"
The commander of the 44th Regint leaned out of his command tank, shouting in disbelief as his vehicle rumbled past Grot and Grey.
Seeing the Knights breach the walls, the 44th Regint surged forward.
Infantry squads charged. Tanks rolled into the city.
The two Knights acknowledged their presence, but did not turn to attack. Instead, they focused on eradicating the remaining enemy strongholds.
....
Monts later, a battered transport vehicle erged from the ruins.
A figure stood atop it, scanning the battlefield.
Upon spotting Grey, he slamd his hand against the vehicle's fra, signaling for it to move forward.
As the transport slowed, two figures disembarked:
A middle-aged soldier, clad in a ragged uniform bearing the faded insignia of his regint.
And a figure with elongated, pointed ears whose very features betrayed an unmistakable xenos heritage.
Grey stiffened.
He did not recognize this xenos.
Perhaps an abhuman mutant? Perhaps sothing far worse?
The alien wasted no ti.
"No ti to explain. Take to your commander. Now."
Grey's first instinct was to snap the intruder's neck.
But he paused.
Instead, he activated his vox-link to Qin Mo.
The response was imdiate.
"Let the Aeldari wait. I am sending a transport."
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