The situation on the main space battlefield had completely reversed. The remaining Greenskin fleet was being ruthlessly suppressed by the combined firepower of Luna and Raynor's fleets. Typically, Orks don't retreat, but they couldn't fight back either. One by one, their ships were sunk or pulverized.
Aboard the Measure of Discipline, Chandler finally sensed that something was wrong. He hadn't survived this long without a sense of danger sharper than any other Ork present. He was losing contact with his escort ships one after another. Even his greatest masterpiece, the Mad Bull, was sending constant warnings under the relentless bombardment of that damnable cruiser, indicating the hull was nearing its breaking point.
He realized he had to pull out. The treasure was important, but his life was more so. As long as he lived, there would always be another chance. There was a reason he held his position: on Dorido, there was no shortage of "hard cases" who were better fighters or more ambitious than him. But Chandler possessed a quality they lacked.
Restraint.
Chandler turned and immediately ordered a retreat. Naturally, he was unwilling, so he glanced around absentmindedly on his way out, hoping for a glimpse of "that thing."
Just as he was about to exit the Measure of Discipline, he spotted a suspicious figure. It was a Loota Boy, a specialized unit of the Deathskulls Clan. They excelled at scavenging scrap from battlefields and cobbling it into powerful weaponry. This Loota was currently huddled in a corner, acting timidly as if terrified of being discovered.
Chandler stopped in his tracks. Lootas behaving like this normally wasn't strange; they were born thieves. But this one was acting disproportionately panicked. Had it found something?
The more Chandler thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. He strode over, grabbed the git by the neck, and hoisted him up.
"Wot ya doin' actin' all sneaky-like? Ya find summat shiny, didn't ya?"
The Loota rubbed his hands together with a fawning smile. "Nah, nuffin', Boss! If I found summat good, I wouldn't dare keep it from ya!"
Chandler stared into his eyes. In those eyes, besides the instinctive fear of his Boss, there was a flicker of greed. It was normal enough, and since time was short, he didn't care to press further.
"Ya better not be lyin'."
Just as he was about to drop the Loota, something caught his eye. Not far behind him, a round object was quietly moving. It was a Squig. Although the species was naturally bulbous, this Squig was exaggeratedly round. Moreover, it was moving by pure rolling, as if it had swallowed a sphere.
Squigs did roll occasionally, but usually in combination with running. They didn't move solely like a ball. A thought flashed through Chandler's mind. He looked back at the Loota, his face twitching with rage.
His power claw tightened.
Crunch.
The Loota's head was crushed, green fluids splashing across the floor. "Get dat fing!" he roared, pointing at the rolling Squig.
The Squig moved incredibly fast. No, it was no longer an ordinary Squig. Ever since it had swallowed the "Mecha Secret Vault," the leaking mysterious energy had begun altering its biology. Its body had swelled, its skin had turned from a disgusting pink to a dark gold, and golden lightning crackled in its eyes.
It tumbled through the corridor, bouncing around at speeds even the biggest Nobs couldn't match.
"Catch it! Don't let it get away!"
The Boyz chased it frantically, but the Squig was like a greased pig, darting and weaving through the narrow halls. It radiated a strange pulse—a manifestation of the wondrous power of "Waaagh!" Wherever it rolled, metal vibrated and conduits twisted slightly. It was absorbing energy, growing, and becoming more terrifying. Every time the golden ball bounced, it hit harder than a ship-mounted shell; several Boyz who tried to block it were smashed to pulp on the spot.
Chandler grew desperate. He charged forward himself, slamming his power claw down. But the Squig executed a sharp turn, dodging the strike and managing to bounce off his face in passing, as if avenging its former master.
"Zog it!" Chandler cursed, raising his triple-barreled mega-shoota and spraying lead at the Squig. But the bullets only grazed the air. The Squig even paused occasionally to wait for Chandler, seemingly mocking his poor tracking aim.
The battle inside the Measure of Discipline had devolved into a farcical game of tag.
While Chandler was chasing the Squig across the ship, Raynor finally established contact with Luna. Static hissed through the comms before Luna's affectedly profound voice came through.
"Raynor?" Her voice held a note of caution. "How did you..."
"What exactly happened?" Raynor interrupted, his tone icy. "What happened to your fleet?"
Luna's face darkened instantly. This tone, this attitude—was he commanding her? Who did he think he was?
"What happens to my fleet is none of your business," she said coldly. "I have my own plan."
"A plan?" Raynor's eyebrow shot up. "Was your plan to let the Greenskins gore the Measure of Discipline through and through? To let them board successfully? And then hide yourself on the Iron Radiance while watching your flagship fall?"
Luna's face turned from red to white. "This... this is all part of the first phase of my plan!"
There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a dry, rasping chuckle. That laughter was more insulting than any curse. Before Luna could retort, Raynor continued.
"A candidate for Marshal of an expedition, yet unable to judge even the most basic battlefield situation." His voice grew colder. "Luna, you are a disgrace."
Luna's face flushed deep crimson. But she would never admit it. "What do you know! I—"
"Enough," Raynor cut her off. "I don't have time for your nonsense."
He knew exactly what Luna had been up to lately. The rumors and legends regarding the "Secret of the Invincible Mecha" were all spread by her. Connecting that to this Greenskin raid, a realization hit Raynor.
"The Greenskin Warboss of Karl-2... is he on that largest ship?" he suddenly asked.
On the other end of the line, Luna, who had been arguing fiercely, went silent for several seconds. Raynor let out a heavy sigh.
"You knew he was on board all along?"
Then why didn't you say so earlier? Raynor didn't voice the second half of the thought. He knew Luna cared deeply about winning this war, but he hadn't expected her to be so shameless as to completely ignore the survival of Brevis.
When that massive Greenskin warship had appeared on the flank of the Measure of Discipline, Luna had sensed it. The thick Waaagh! field and the aura of madness that almost overflowed the sensors confirmed that the source of the Waaagh! on Karl-2—the Warboss in charge—was on that giant vessel.