Sothing felt off.
The strangely peaceful scene behind the Iron Wall defenses in space left the spying Chaos entity deeply puzzled.
When humans faced Chaos corruption, weren't they supposed to panic in fear, or cry out to the Emperor in despair?
And yet now, there was no chaos at all behind the lines. Even the mortals were calmly enjoying a lavish al.
"Perhaps the Imperium has concealed everything. These mortals probably still don't know what kind of horror is about to descend on them."
That was what the Chaos consciousness inside the rotten fly thought. It simply refused to believe that ordinary mortals could be unafraid of daemons.
At that mont, Drenin's voice ca over, sounding faintly excited.
"Brothers, the order just ca in. In three hours, we're deploying to Sector Eight to hold the line against the Chaos daemons' assault.
"Looks like this is the real attack. The command staff wouldn't be moving forces around on this scale otherwise."
The Cadian veteran and the big Catachan both lit up imdiately, grinning from ear to ear. Even the Krieg veteran raised his head, clearly in a much better mood.
The nervousness from before had not been about the number of daemons at all.
They had been anxious because the daemons were already charging in by the swarm, yet sohow it still was not their turn to get sent to the front.
At the sa ti, the other veterans in powered infantry armor across the dining hall also received their combat orders, and they too were thrilled at the chance to et the daemons head-on.
Every one of them looked eager to get moving.
The veterans' excitent was only natural. This battle to defend Holy Terra was of enormous significance. For soldiers belonging to the Imperium's core military sequence, being left out of it would have been an outright disgrace.
To put it simply, if they were not chosen, then it ant the Departnto Munitorum considered their unit too weak to qualify for the front line, fit only to sit in reserve.
And then they would have no choice but to stand there and watch others fight and die for the Imperium, watch others kill daemon wretches and claim greater glory.
In the New Imperium, going to war was not sothing you got to do just because you wanted to, especially not in a decisive campaign like this one against the Chaos Gods themselves. Countless units were fighting to claim glory and war honors.
By the Munitorum's definition, this was a pivotal campaign, one with historical significance.
If they took part in a battle on this scale and earned honors, then their honor banners would be delivered to their ho world personally by the Savior's ceremonial guard.
Their units and nas would also be entered into the official honor rolls of their ho world, to be commorated, venerated, and admired in generations to co.
That was a special honor-and-reward system established by the Savior himself. Put simply, it was like giving your family line its own page in the history books - then upgrading that idea again and again, from ho world, to star system, to sector.
And if the honor awarded was of the very highest class, then the Savior, the Emperor of the Imperium himself, would personally deliver it amid drums, banners, and sacred hymns of glory echoing across the sector, and would even have a monunt built there in your honor.
With that kind of glory waiting for them, what soldier would not charge forward like a madman?
It had greatly raised the warriors' fighting spirit and sharpened their mindset in battle against xenos and heretics.
On the other hand, if they did not fight hard enough, if their strength fell short and they ended up stuck in reserve in the rear, then not only would they not dare speak too loudly in front of other units...
How would they face the people back ho afterward?
What were they supposed to say - that they had gone all the way to Holy Terra to defend the Iron Wall, only to sit around in the rear eating good food and taking care of their health?
What humiliation.
As the war orders spread, the atmosphere throughout the dining area turned lively. The veterans quickly began talking shop.
"Those gutless Chaos daemons were just probing us before. That barely counted as an attack. This ti they're serious."
The Cadian veteran slapped the table excitedly as he shouted.
Like most old soldiers, they were discussing the state of the war, which was to say, boasting and talking tough.
The New Imperium no longer hid so much about daemons from ordinary humans the way the old Imperium had.
Especially not from veterans like these. They were allowed to know more of the truth about the war - what they were fighting, and why they were fighting it.
They were nothing like the Astra Militarum of the old Imperium, who often knew absolutely nothing. Hand them a flashlight, drop them on target, and tell them to charge. Sotis an entire army would be wiped out without ever learning what kind of enemy it had actually been fighting.
"That's exactly what I said. Those daemons are even craftier than the sucker-trees back on Catachan. They pretended to be weak just to fool us.
"Good thing the people at command didn't fall for it and kept things conservative. Otherwise our line would've been in real danger."
The big Catachan swallowed a bite of steak and chid in, apparently already warming to the subject.
The walking mountain of muscle kept going like he was at a dinner table with two more dishes and a bottle of liquor.
"I heard the one commanding the Chaos army this ti is Horus, the great traitor himself. They say he's a genius at commanding troops, so kind of Lord of War, Dark Emperor, whatever. ans our Imperium needs to be careful, not get too... too reckless. Or careless. Otherwise we'll get played."
"That's right, I heard that too. My old lady's cousin's second older brother said so. He's a frontline commander. Assuming he hasn't died yet."
The Cadian veteran picked up the thread, spittle flying as he spoke.
"Horus is the most capable commander on the Chaos side, the most dangerous Imperial traitor they've got. Cunning, vicious, slippery as hell.
"They say if that arch-traitor gets even the slightest opening, he can crack a defensive line. Scary bastard. Good thing our Imperium's been careful enough not to give him one.
"Think about it. Before this, everything they did was just a feint. They barely committed any troops at all. And this ti? Bet it still isn't his full strength. He's definitely hiding even more elites sowhere, just waiting for us to drop our guard before he springs the real blow!"
???
After hearing all that, the Chaos being inside the rotten fly turned an even deeper shade of sickly green.
Those Imperial mortals were clearly talking about how powerful and cunning Lord Horus was.
So why did it sound like they were mocking him? Mocking all of Chaos along with him?
What did they an, feint?
The Chaos coalition had assembled in full force earlier, charged headlong under the bombardnt of the orbital ring fortress bristling with gun batteries, and only barely managed to tear open a breach in the defenses.
And these Imperial mortals were calling that a feint?
How was that supposed to make sense?
Not only that - now the Chaos Gods had summoned still more reinforcents, and under Lord Horus's command the full assault had already begun, with almost nothing held back.
So what was this nonsense about hidden elites still waiting in ambush?
The Chaos being inside the rotten fly buzzed furiously with rage, but quickly forced itself to calm down.
"These foolish mortals' words are aningless. It's just the random drivel they babble while stuffing their faces.
"There's no need to pay them any mind.
"Besides, the arrogance of the Imperial armies is a good thing for Chaos. Lord Horus will make them pay dearly for it."
The rotten fly stopped paying attention to the mortals.
They were just cannon fodder anyway.
But when its compound eyes swept over the dining hall, it still found itself startled. Imperial logistics were absurdly abundant. Even in warti, they were being served fresh-made als.
Apparently humanity had already moved beyond hunger.
That was not good for Chaos, especially not for Grandfather Nurgle. It ant far fewer starved corpses lying around for plague to spread through.
Fortunately, once Chaos won this war, the gods would unleash even worse corruption - bloodshed and slaughter, worlds rotting, farmland withering away.
The Imperium of Man would be dragged back into darkness, left helpless beneath Chaos's knife.
Avoiding everyone's notice, the rotten fly quietly slipped deeper into the defensive platform, hoping to gather more information on the Imperial defenders.
After all, infiltrating the place once had not been easy. It had cost a great deal.
"Grandfather..."
Soon after, the rotten fly reached the warehouse district of the defensive platform, and there it saw supplies packed together in such density that it almost could not believe what it was looking at.
From military rations to ammunition, heavy artillery, vehicles, and war engines - everything was there.
There were so many supplies that countless cargo crates had simply been stacked haphazardly right out in the open plaza, forming mountains one or two kiloters tall.
"My apologies. Those were orders from the Logistics Departnt.
"Yes, it's a bit much, but we had to move these materials in."
The officer in charge of the logistics transport fleet was speaking with the local commander, and he looked noticeably relieved.
Fortunately, while the Iron Wall defenses around Holy Terra had still been under construction, the logistics branch had already organized large-scale fleet transport of defensive materials.
That was the only reason they had managed to get everything into place before Chaos fully sealed off the Solar System, sparing themselves the disgrace of dereliction.
The transport officer sent over the inventory manifest and said in a sowhat teasing tone,
"In any case, we've delivered the assigned materials according to orders. From here on, how you store them and how you burn through them is the concern of your Fifteenth Army Group.
"Besides, His Majesty the Savior said it himself: a soldier who doesn't know how to use firepower isn't a good soldier. Don't tell your Fifteenth Army Group can't even chew through this much ammunition?"
The Fifteenth Army Group commander's face darkened at once.
He snorted.
"Savior above, who says the Fifteenth Army Group can't chew through it? In this campaign, we'll empty every last round of stock and show those Chaos daemons exactly what we can do!"
Sotis these commanders truly did have headaches over it. The logistics branch had a habit of transporting absurdly excessive amounts of supplies, which in turn created imnse pressure on them to actually expend all that firepower.
Ever since the Holy Terra Iron Wall line had been established, the logistics branch had been frantically shipping supplies and weapons this way, doing its duty to the Imperium in its own particular fashion.
As long as it delivered the rations, the weapons, and the ammunition into place, then its mission was fulfilled.
The more supplies, the more loyal.
They were contributing to this sacred war for Terra through professional excellence.
More importantly, it gave them a chance to burn through so of their strategic stockpiles and ease warehouse pressure.
After all, if the soldiers did not hurry up and consu the existing stock, how were the forges supposed to justify producing new weapons and ammunition?
There was no helping it. To deal with future warti pressure - especially possible threats from beyond the galaxy - the New Imperium's forge worlds were still expanding.
Those production lines ran day and night, pouring out mountains of matériel and ammunition that filled warehouses to the brim, to the point that the logistics departnt had to apply for entire warehouse worlds.
But the cost of storing and managing supplies on that scale was enormous too, especially when it ca to handling munitions nearing shelf expiration.
Yet the forge worlds' production lines could not simply be shut down. The cost of restarting them later might be even higher than continuing production, and important chanical engines might even be damaged in the process.
Those colossal forge-engines, each the size of a small continent, were more valuable than many thriving civilized planets.
In short, the weapons and ammunition never stopped coming, and the logistics departnt's stockpile pressure had beco an old and familiar problem.
Ever since the space-borne Iron Wall began construction, the logistics branches had been overjoyed. They seized the opportunity and began hauling supplies here by the shipload under every excuse they could think of.
All for the sake of easing the pressure from their weapon and ammunition stockpiles.
Of course, what no one had expected was that the logistics departnts' "bad intentions" would accidentally turn into a genuine good deed.
Their huge transport fleets had arrived in the Solar System loaded to the brim with supplies, and then Chaos had suddenly launched its encirclent of Holy Terra and sealed off the routes.
The Iron Wall already had plenty of weapons, ammunition, and defensive vehicles within it.
But the extra materials brought in by the logistics branch had undoubtedly increased the Imperium's odds of victory.
Even Lord Tarko of the Savior's Office, the one known as the Emperor's Eyes of the Imperium, had praised the logistics branch's contribution and said they had shown remarkable foresight.
He would personally report the logistics departnt's outstanding achievents to His Majesty the Savior afterward.
That praise had left the senior officials responsible for the operation absolutely ecstatic.
One such official was apparently still trying to figure out how to send word out, intending to have the logistics departnt organize another fleet and ship in even more war materials.
No one knew how long this war would last, after all. Better to have too much than too little.
The people in logistics were always that plainspoken and bold, just the way the Savior expected them to be.
They were constantly afraid that other departnts and the Munitorum might not have enough supplies, and seed to want nothing more than to stuff the Munitorum's warehouses, the soldiers' armor, and even the soldiers' stomachs absolutely full.
"In the Imperium of today... even mortal soldiers' armored wargear uses auramite?"
When the rotten fly saw the powered combat armor inside the warehouse, the shock inside it deepened even further.
It had never seen Imperial equipnt like this in earlier battles. Just the auramite outer plating on those armored chestplates was enough to make Chaos creatures wary.
Back in the old days, auramite had been a rare alloy reserved for the Custodians alone, capable of withstanding most weapons.
"I have to report this to His Majesty Horus, the Dark Emperor at once..."
Looking at the Imperial weapons and vehicles stored inside the warehouse of that defensive platform, the rotten fly felt a deep dread rise in its heart.
It seed the Savior's armants had advanced yet again since before.
That could affect the entire war.
Perhaps Chaos should find an opportunity to destroy the Imperium's supply depots and eliminate that threat altogether.
"Not good. There's a blackstone barrier here too, laid down by the Savior?"
The mont the rotten fly tried to transmit its findings, it realized that warp-tainted ssages could barely pass through at all.
With no other choice, it fluttered its tiny wings and flew frantically toward the outside of the defensive platform, trying to leave the area covered by the blackstone suppression devices.
Only then could it send the information successfully.
The Chaos being inside the fly was extrely nervous, terrified of being discovered. More than once, it had nearly been picked up by Chaos-detection devices.
That would have been fatal.
If the Grey Knights stationed here found it, it would most likely be annihilated on the spot.
"Grandfather, I'm finally safe!"
Not long after, the rotten fly escaped the coverage of the blackstone suppression devices and nearly buzzed with joy.
At once, it sent its intelligence to Horus, the Dark Emperor, including everything it had seen and heard during the infiltration.
At the sa ti, within the Chaos hall...
Hm?!
The dark and terrifying daemonic form seated upon the throne received the report - and in the next instant flew into a rage, while towering flas burst into life all around him...
(End of Chapter)
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