Warhammer: The Worst Start There Is (40k) - Chapter 19: The Generous Father

The relentless determination of the Plague Fleet to confront the Imperium to the bitter end could not change their impending doom.

The Imperial fleet was under the command of a prime entity, greatly boosting morale. Imperial commanders spared no effort to avoid making any mistakes, for fear of losing the prime entity’s attention.

With improved morale and a greater number of warships than the Plague Fleet, the Imperial fleet had the upper hand. It was like a dragon facing off against a kitten; winning was almost impossible for the latter.

The Chaos faction’s fleet showed no sign of cooperation. Shortly after the battle began, they were cut off by the Imperial side, each forced to fight separately.

“Maintain course and destroy their flagship to secure victory,” Guilliman gazed at the projection of the Plague Fleet on the tactical display. Among the Plague Fleet, there was a massive battleship covered in filth and disgusting flesh, with malicious eyes scattered all over it, glaring at the battlefield.

That ship had been thoroughly corrupted in warp, and the filth and decay were the best evidence.

“Concentrate all energy on the forward void shield. The first and second battle groups, cease pursuit and encircle the Plague Fleet from the flanks. Lock onto the enemy flagship and prioritize the attack. All macro-cannons, reload. Power up the lance to maximum output, and fire the bow cannon.”

As Guilliman spoke, the bridge of the Macragge’s Honour became exceptionally busy. Technicians, supervisors, and Tech-Priest rushed about, faithfully carrying out the prime entity’s orders.

The lower decks of the Macragge’s Honour were even busier.

Junior officers yelled at the crewmen, occasionally wielding whips or kicking those who didn’t meet their expectations.

Giant cranes rumbled as they lifted cannon shells onto the artillery deck.

Tech-Priest maintained complex energy conduits and secondary contemplative systems, reciting prayers to the Deus Mechanicus in binary, praying for the Omnissiah to keep the warship operational.

With Guilliman’s commands, the entire Imperial fleet accelerated to launch their final assault on the Plague Fleet.

Guilliman ignored everything else, focusing his mind on the enemy flagship, searching for vulnerabilities in the enemy’s void shield.

A battleship’s length is several tens of kilometers, around twenty kilometers, easily capable of reducing an unprotected world to ashes.

Besides being able to carry more cargo, the massive hull can also support thicker and more stable void shields.

The core of a battleship is hidden inside, protected by multiple layers of void shields, with a hull several meters thick.

Under normal circumstances, a battleship can withstand hours of bombardment.

But Guilliman didn’t want to wait that long. If a group of weak enemies could stop him for so long, how could he defeat the force of chaos and fight back against the war loving Ork?

The bird’s-eye view, the information gathered by the data radar, swiftly passed through Guilliman’s pupils.

He could read a page of information faster than an ordinary human could blink.

A Primarch like him could review massive amounts of information and make optimal judgments within seconds.

Soon, the weakness of the Chaos fleet flagship appeared in Guilliman’s mind.

There, a section of the void shield was flickering, unstable, indicating that the pulse regulation device of the void shield generator was malfunctioning.

“That flagship, target these locations,” Guilliman said confidently, his hand dancing quickly on the data pad, pressing various buttons, activating holographic markers from the blur.

The flagship’s information was transformed by the contemplative computer, forming a projection. Several dots appeared on the holographic projection, indicating the weak points of the Chaos fleet flagship.

Relevant orders were quickly transmitted throughout the fleet, and a series of confirmations returned through the communication channels.

“The entire fleet has locked onto the target.”

“Then let’s attack and put an end to this space battle once and for all,” Guilliman said.

The Imperial fleet, now maneuvering, slowly tightened like a fishing net, and the overwhelming barrage drowned the Chaos ships.

Even the enemy flagship endured multiple volleys, its shield generator flickering frequently.

Countless lances and torpedoes instantly covered the unprotected hull.

Under the onslaught of countless nuclear warheads, macro-cannon shells, torpedoes, and lances, the massive flagship lasted less than thirty seconds.

A massive column of fire erupted from the center of the ship, and in the midst of the bombardment, its spine cracked. One second later, the reactor exploded, engulfing the Chaos flagship in a perfectly-shaped yellow sphere resembling a miniature sun.

Standing on the bridge, Guilliman felt a burst of intense light, followed by a dimming.

The observation ports on the command deck automatically switched to pure black using light-controlled color-changing filters to protect the crew on the command deck.

With the flagship destroyed, the remaining Chaos ships no longer posed a threat.

Guilliman instructed Breyh to handle the remaining matters when he heard footsteps approaching.

Dressed in power armor, Donas, the intelligence chief of the Dawnstar Warband, walked up to Guilliman.

“My Lord, we’ve detected abnormal fluctuations on Sara-II, and the barrier between reality and warp is weakening. The Plague Marines are attempting to summon their allies.”

“In that case, we need to accelerate our pace,” Guilliman said, envisioning the atrocities the traitors might commit. Those were things no normal person could endure. Even witnessing those dark rituals could lead to contamination.

Summoning the Daemons from warp required bloody and brutal sacrifices. After offering blood, pain, and souls, these lifeless beings would gain physical forms in the real universe, causing significant casualties among humans.

“Prepare for battle; we’ll need to descend to the surface to cleanse the filth,” Guilliman declared. “I’ll make the Warp Daemon regret their arrival in this world.”

Sara-II.

The outskirts of the Grlex Hive City.

Gurlo gazed at the flickering void shield around the human’s last fortress, wearing a disgusted expression.

These humans were stubborn, thoroughly brainwashed by the Corpse Emperor, and so foolish to reject the Father’s benevolent gifts.

Gurlo walked towards the ruined area on the outskirts of Grlex Hive City, his bloated form clad in Terminator armor, which oozed a foul-smelling liquid, emitting an unpleasant sound as he moved.

If others were to witness this scene, they might fear that the power armor would burst under the strain of his bloated body.

Gurlo’s power armor was quite old, dating back to the days of Horus’ betrayal. During that time, the dark mechanical cultists who followed Horus crafted a batch of new Terminator power armor, far superior in power and performance to other power armors.

After millennia of corrosion, his power armor no longer resembled its former self, rusting and oozing foul-smelling liquid.

However, due to the blessings of Nurgle, the Lord of Decay, his power armor had become even more formidable.

“They do not understand the Father’s benevolence. Humans are always like this, narrow-minded and selfish,” Gurlo said, looking at the other Plague Marines, who were similarly massive in size, though Gurlo was always the largest.

“Generosity is the motto of Father Nurgle. He is so all-loving that anyone who prays to him, regardless of their wealth, age, health, or disability, can receive his generous love. But these humans do not know gratitude; they worship that decaying Corpse Emperor and refuse to accept the true power of the Dark Gods.”

“We have brought them gifts, and they have shown no gratitude. Instead, they see us as enemies. I pity them. The Corpse Emperor’s progeny has arrived, and to prevent these unfortunate people from falling under the control of that selfish, cruel, and greedy Corpse Emperor once again, we must launch our final assault, utterly crush the fortress, complete the sacrifice ritual, and transform this world into the Father’s garden.”