The lance attacks from the Firestorm-class frigates followed immediately. The main batteries of these frigates prioritized raw power, which proved exceptionally effective against power fields. The beams continuously drained the shield reserves of several major Greenskin cruisers.
Realizing the situation was turning against them, the lead Greenskin cruisers began to turn and flee. However, the escorts of Luna's fleet reacted instantly; reinforcements had arrived! They charged forward recklessly, entangling the retreating Greenskin ships. Defense turrets fired frantically, torpedo tubes launched nonstop, and some even initiated "Banzai" ramming maneuvers. They were trading their lives to buy time.
Meanwhile, the Peak Obsidian had completed its second charge.
"Lock onto the largest one," Raynor ordered.
The lance arrays lit up once more. This time, they targeted the Mad Bull, the giant warship currently goring the Measure of Discipline.
The beams fired.
Thick shafts of light, carrying destructive heat, cut across the stars and struck the flank of the Mad Bull with precision. Massive sheets of steel melted instantly. The armor was torn open like paper as the beams pierced layer after layer of compartments, detonating deep within the hull.
The Mad Bull shuddered violently. Its green power field had long since dissipated, and it was now relying entirely on its thick armor to endure the punishment. But the lances were designed specifically to destroy hulls; the assault was too relentless and too concentrated, giving the ship no chance to breathe.
A massive breach was blown into the side of the Mad Bull. Flames erupted from the gap, and countless shards of debris scattered into the void. The once-arrogant beast finally let out a moan of agony.
Inside the Measure of Discipline, Chandler was in the middle of a killing spree when he felt the ship beneath his feet tremble.
"Wot's happenin'?!" he roared.
A crackling voice screamed through his comms: "Boss! Outside! A new humie fleet showed up! Our ships ain't gonna hold!"
Chandler froze. A new fleet? He rushed to a viewport and looked out. In the starry void, a massive Imperial cruiser was positioned broadside to him. Its lance arrays were still glowing, aimed directly at his own ship.
Chandler immediately ordered his second-in-command remaining on the Mad Bull to report the situation. The side of the Mad Bull had a gaping hole, the armor was severely damaged, and at least three decks were completely exposed to the vacuum. The firepower of these new humie cruisers was indeed potent—more savage than they had anticipated.
After listening to the report, Chandler thought for a moment and then grinned wickedly.
"Keep lookin'," Chandler bellowed, swinging his power claw to smash a half-closed hatch into fragments. "Dat fing's gotta be on dis ship!"
According to his "thinkin'," as long as the engines weren't broken, the ship could still fly!
The Boyz looked at each other hesitantly. The new humie fleet outside was so fierce, yet the Boss didn't want to retreat? But no one dared to question him; what the Boss said was law.
Chandler turned and continued his rampage through the corridors of the Measure of Discipline. With every step his six-meter-tall mechanical war-suit took, the floor shook. His power claw tore open sealed hatches, and his triple-barreled mega-shoota mowed down any Skitarii brave enough to block his path.
He didn't know exactly what "it" looked like. But he knew it had to be on this ship. The "Secret of the Invincible Mega-Dredd" that the Boyz were discussing so fanatically had to be real. Finding it meant building the most "Waaagh!" walker ever conceived. When that happened, he might even try to replace Lognar. Then, the name Chandler would echo across the entire sector.
He pushed deeper inside.
Outside, the battlefield was shifting. Although the Greenskin fleet had been caught off guard by Raynor's expedition fleet, they would not retreat as long as their Boss stayed in the fight. That was Greenskin logic: if the Boss says charge, you charge to the end. If the Boss doesn't say retreat, you die where you stand.
Soon, a Greenskin cruiser painted in yellow and black stripes saw an opportunity. Taking a swarm of transport and ram-craft, it managed to slip through a gap in the expedition fleet's firing line during a transition in target priorities.
The transport craft sped through the fire-net, heading straight for several frigates. Strangely, they weren't repelled by the damnable shields. The void shields on those frigates had clearly been active moments ago, yet the transports met no resistance, slamming directly into the hulls.
The Greenskins didn't stop to think if this was a trap.
"Board 'em! Board 'em!" the Boyz inside the transports howled. "Kill all da humies, wahahaha!!!"
The first wave of transports successfully landed. Tens of thousands of Greenskins flooded into the ships of the expedition fleet. They failed to notice that after they passed through, the void shields of the frigates flickered back to full strength. It was like a giant beast opening its mouth, waiting for its prey to jump inside.
The first frigate to be boarded was the Warrior's Resolve. This was a Firestorm-class frigate, less than two kilometers long with a crew of nearly thirty thousand. To the Greenskins, such small humie ships were the easiest to conquer; they just had to rush in, kill everyone, and loot the good stuff.
This boarding party consisted of roughly thirty thousand Greenskins, led by a massive Nob standing over three and a half meters tall. He swung a power axe and was the first to charge out of the transport. He successfully made it all the way to the decks where the crew usually resided.
But strangely, they met no resistance along the way, nor did they see any living thing. Only the dim lights flickered, and the ventilation ducts hummed low. The Nob frowned; this wasn't right. How could a humie ship be empty?
However, his brain capacity didn't support deep contemplation.
"Search da place!" he roared.
The Greenskin Boyz began to push inward, passing through hatches and corridors, searching every corner. But there was nothing. The entire ship was like a ghost town. Their last bit of vigilance eroded, and they began to split up, trying to find the hidden humies.
It wasn't until the Nob's group reached the depths of the hull that the lights cut out instantly.
Total darkness.
The Nob raised his power axe, signaling his subordinates to be careful. They moved forward slowly, eyes straining against the blackness.
Suddenly!
In the dark, dots of crimson light ignited, surrounding them. Thousands of red glows, dense and layered, were staring at them. The Boyz could even feel the hunger radiating from those red eyes, as if they were looking at a feast.
The Nob's pupils constricted. "Wot da zog is dat—?!"
He didn't finish. Something moved in the shadows, too fast to see. A gust of wind blew past, and the Nob's power axe, along with the arm holding it, flew into the air. He let out a scream and looked down to see a smooth, clean stump.
More silhouettes surged from the darkness. The Greenskin Boyz finally saw their opponents. It wasn't humans or robots.
It was bugs. Countless bugs.