The strength of the void shields exceeded Ironclaw Chandler's expectations. That layer of blue light stubbornly endured the first impact of the Mad Bull, exhausting the green power field granted by the Waaagh! energy.
But Chandler did not retreat. Instead, he smashed a canister of golden liquid into the control console. He sensed what was hidden within that ship—it was something he had craved for a long time!
"Max power!" Chandler roared. "Charge, ya gits!!!"
The Mekboyz frantically pulled at various levers. The engines of the Mad Bull erupted in a piercing scream, and green flames nearly melted the edges of the stern thrusters. The entire warship acted like a true mad bull, pushing against the Measure of Discipline.
The broadside batteries of the Measure of Discipline poured fire into the Mad Bull. Beams and shells detonated against the thick armor, leaving smoking craters. The tips of the bull horns were snapped off by the force fields, but the Mad Bull didn't care. It only needed to hold on for a few more seconds.
The void shields of the Measure of Discipline flickered violently. The blue light grew dimmer and thinner. With a soft pop, the shields dissipated.
The jagged, broken horns plunged deep into the flank of the Measure of Discipline. Armor buckled and tore under the immense force, and the entire cruiser was pushed into a lateral slide. Inside the bridge, alarms were screaming in unison.
"Main engine damaged! Power system overloaded! Energy supply unstable across all decks!" "Void shield generator overheating! Cooling required for fifteen minutes!" "Greenskins are boarding! Repeat, massive numbers of Greenskins are boarding!"
The adjutant's voice trembled. He looked at Luna, waiting for an order. Luna's face was deathly pale. She gave him a look, as if she had finally made a difficult decision.
Massive numbers of Greenskin Boyz flooded into the Measure of Discipline through the broken horns. They wore well-crafted yellow plate armor, swinging choppas and shootas while letting out piercing howls. Behind them followed war walkers, buggies, Killa Kans, and Deff Dreads.
The Skitarii, joined by the Tzeentchian cultists, launched a stubborn counter-offensive. Blue beams from arc rifles interlaced in the corridors, and the searing heat of plasma cannons consumed wave after wave of Greenskins. The emotionless, modified soldiers knew no fear; they mechanically aimed, fired, and reloaded until they were overwhelmed by the green tide.
The Tzeentchian followers fought as well. Their psychic powers exploded in the narrow corridors, tearing Greenskins into fragments. Their spells caused the Boyz in the front to bleed from their eyes and collapse in convulsions.
But there were too many Greenskins. They were like a green flood that had breached a dam, endless and unstoppable. And their boss had arrived.
Ironclaw Chandler boarded the ship personally. He wore a set of heavy mechanical war-armor, standing over six meters tall. Every step he took made the corridor tremble. His right arm was a massive power claw capable of tearing through anything in his path. His left arm was a triple-barreled rotary mega-shoota; the caliber of the bullets was so absurdly large they seemed to exceed the diameter of the barrels themselves.
No one knew how they were fired, but Skitarii hit by them turned directly into blood mist, which was then ignited by the machine oil in their bodies, turning them into macabre fireworks.
"Charge!" Chandler bellowed. "Find dat fing!"
The Boyz responded with a frenzy. Their morale was through the roof; with the Boss leading them personally, what was there to fear? The Skitarii defensive lines began to crumble. The Tzeentchian cultists started to retreat. Seeing that Luna had yet to appear, they had realized something. Only the emotionless tech-soldiers continued to fight, though they could no longer stem the green flood.
Outside, the battle in space reached a fever pitch. More and more Greenskin vessels broke through the fire blockade and began boarding actions. One Moon-class cruiser was surrounded by three Greenskin cruisers; after its void shields overloaded, a massive hole was blown into its side, and countless boarding craft swarmed inside. Another Moon-class cruiser was being besieged by over a dozen Greenskin battle barges, its shields fluctuating wildly and on the verge of collapse.
In naval warfare, Greenskins shared the same advantage as the Tyranids: once they reached the bloody stage of boarding actions, they entered their comfort zone. The crazed Greenskins thrived in narrow corridors. They cared nothing for casualties; they only wanted slaughter, destruction, and a good "Waaagh!"
At this rate, the defeat of Luna's fleet was certain.
At that moment, a light flickered in the distant starry sky. It was the flash of lances. A sweeping barrage of lance fire arrived head-on.
"All ships, prepare for engagement."
Raynor stood on the bridge of the Peak Obsidian, watching the chaotic battlefield on the radar screen as he issued the order. His fleet had just entered the Karl-2 sector, appearing right on the flank of the battle.
The scene before him was more gruesome than he had anticipated. The Measure of Discipline was being gored by a ridiculously large Greenskin warship—it was obvious what was happening. Two Moon-class cruisers were besieged, the escorts were fighting desperately, and the transport ships were retreating in disorder. Luna's fleet was on the brink of total collapse.
"My Lord," the captain approached, "should we..."
"Attack," Raynor interrupted. "Now is not the time to worry about personal grudges."
He looked at the massive Greenskin ship on the screen. Although he and Luna were not on the same path—even their factions were worlds apart—they now shared a common enemy. And since that enemy was one that evolved continuously, he could not sit idly by and let them grow stronger.
"All ships, target the Greenskin fleet. Fire at will!"
The side-mounted lance arrays of the Peak Obsidian began to charge. These were the most powerful weapons in the fleet—dozens of ultra-heavy caliber lances arranged along the hull, specialized for destroying the cores of large targets. The hum they produced during charging made the entire deck vibrate.
"Fire!"
Dozens of lances fired simultaneously. Searing light tore through the darkness, accurately striking the Greenskin ships that were besieging Luna's fleet. The beams pierced through armor and melted hulls, dissolving those crude creations in the intense light.
The Greenskins were caught off guard by the sudden assault. They turned toward their flank to see an unknown fleet moving into formation. Led by a Gothic-class cruiser, followed by dozens of frigates and destroyers.
The escorts had already begun launching torpedoes. Dozens of torpedoes approached from the side, remaining in a stealth state for almost their entire flight. By the time the Greenskins discovered them, it was too late. Their anti-aircraft fire opened up frantically, but the torpedoes were too fast to intercept.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The torpedoes detonated against the Greenskin shields. This model of torpedo was specifically designed to disrupt power fields; upon explosion, they generated intense energy interference. The power fields of the Greenskin ships were rapidly dismantled.