BONG!
The ship's bell chimed. Tech-Priests scattered throughout the Gloriana-class battleship began to chant the "Great Omnissiah."
A metal-faced Tech-Officer reported, "Coordinate parameters locked. Movement plan confirmed." The Naval Officer, clad in a navy uniform, responded, "Trajectory calculated, parameters sent to the engine room."
With all departments giving the green light, the power supervisor threw the lever. The engines at the stern of the Imperial Glory erupted in light.
A growing tremor ran through the hull as countless machines roared, their sound blending with the hum of the systems and the crew's shouts. Conventional engines kicked in, driving the Imperial Glory through the void.
Thirty minutes later, the battleship hit the target zone. As soon as they adjusted position, the colossal hull began to vibrate violently. The void shield generator emitted a dull crackling sound, and sharp alarms blared throughout the ship.
"We're under attack!" a supervisor yelled.
Daniel pulled up the external feed. On the viewscreen, electromagnetic artillery shells and lasers from the planet below continuously hammered the orbiting Imperial Glory. The thick Void Shield flickered violently under the sustained barrage.
"Funnel all available energy to the Void Shield and wait for confirmation from ground forces," Daniel ordered. The Tech-Priests immediately tweaked the dials to redistribute energy.
Meanwhile, ground troops were on the move toward the objective. Huge war machines churned across the desolate plains, engines roaring and spewing hot exhaust.
The dry earth crumbled beneath their tracks, kicking up dust storms. Thunderbolt Fighters screamed overhead at incredible speeds, swift as an arrow.
Major General Faraday, in his uniform, was seated in the strategic command vehicle, keeping a close eye on the entire battlefield.
They were betting the farm on this war, determined to quickly put down the rebels and defend the Emperor's glory.
"General, the 'Saints' battle group is locked and loaded and awaiting their assignment," a staff officer reported to Faraday.
Daniel had long ago given Faraday secondary command authority, officially integrating him into the players' Operation PLAY structure.
Faraday reached out and spun the holographic map, which displayed the Anas Hive City and its satellite urban sprawls.
"The Imperial Cattle get a stealth mission," he ordered.
"They need to hit Anas 011 Satellite City, no matter the cost, and neutralize all long-range artillery and shield generators in the area. Send a message to the Guide: we're only 130 kilometers out.
Request orbital bombardment to soften the target before we move in. Issue an airborne mission to the Hammertime Chapter. They're to drop in hot immediately after the first bombardment wave hits the Anas Hive and wreak havoc on the enemy's supply and transport lines."
Faraday knew the "Saints" were too valuable to waste in a front-line meat grinder. Their fearless grit and overwhelming strength were best used as a scalpel, not a sledgehammer, to dramatically reduce casualties for the regular troops. He assigned tasks that played directly to the Saints' strengths.
The staff quickly drafted the mission briefing and sent it to the Imperial Glory. After a quick review by Arale or Daniel, the data was relayed to the relevant regiments.
Players like Warmaster, already aboard the Valkyrie gunship awaiting deployment, heard a chime from their power armor system. He instinctively opened the task update in his heads-up display:
Mission: Raid on Anas 011 Satellite City
Successfully arrived (in progress), marked high-risk targets (in progress), destroyed enemy defense turrets (in progress)
You will get a portion of war points for each mission stage you complete. After completing all missions, the final score will be calculated based on the impact on the battlefield.
The more missions you complete, the higher your war score will be, and the higher your rewards will be at the end of the mission.
On the battlefield, obeying orders is the first rule.
If you refuse a task once, 10% of your current score will be deducted. If you refuse a task twice, 20% of your current score will be deducted.
Malicious sabotage of missions will result in campaign failure, with all war points deducted and the account banned for 15, 30, 90, or 365 days, depending on the situation. In extremely serious cases, the account will be permanently banned.
Warmaster was quick to spot the difference in the mission structure. "Looks like the campaign system just got an upgrade—war scores for rewards and heavy penalties," he observed.
"They're cracking down on players trying to game the system," The BaldCustodian commented. "This game is 100% for real. NPCs and materials don't just respawn. One failed campaign could change the whole course of the game, so it stands to reason the punishment is harsh."
"I'll second that," WrongHammer agreed.
"Hold on, are we burying the lead here? Shouldn't we be looking at the mission details?" Yuji interjected. Though Yuji often served as an advisor, he participated in battles when his leader didn't need him—staying desk-bound on the ship was a total bore.
"Yuji's right. We can pore over the campaign system upgrades later. For now, let's get down to business and check the requirements."
"The mission came with coordinates and a satellite city hologram. Check it out." Warmaster opened the data package. The Machine Spirit of his power armor emitted a low chime. A bright projection sprang from his wrist-mounted unit, mapping out the complex city layout.
"Target location locked. Let's roll," Yuji said, clicking a spot on the hologram and sending the coordinates to the pilot.
The Valkyrie pilot responded instantly, veering away from the main transport group and accelerating toward the mission coordinates.
The Valkyrie was fast.
Just over ten minutes later, Warmaster and his companions saw a magnificent city looming at the edge of the horizon.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions rocked the air. A raging inferno engulfed the colossal hive city. The Imperial Glory, now in low orbit, was pounding the hive mercilessly.
Artillery and laser arrays on the hive's high walls and towers shot back into the void. Above the city, Imperial fighters and enemy aircraft were locked in a deadly dance, sometimes exploding into brilliant fireballs.
The Valkyrie gunship, shielded and flying low, glided toward the target city like a ghost.
Their stealth approach paid off; the enemy didn't notice the incoming Valkyrie until it was practically knocking on the door of the satellite city buildings.
Anti-aircraft towers and laser arrays swung into action, spitting a fire-snake barrage and lasers as dense as a rainstorm.
The shots hammered the Valkyrie's shield, causing ripples. A sharp alarm screamed in the cabin as the scarlet warning lights spun.
The Valkyrie didn't hesitate, giving as good as it got. Its nose-mounted multi-barreled laser cannon rotated and opened fire.
Moments later, wing-mounted Hellstrike missiles locked onto targets and launched, resulting in deafening explosions. The heavy bolt guns on both sides of the machine roared, laying down suppressive fire.
"We're taking heavy flak, General! Can't reach the exact drop zone!" the pilot yelled.
"Set it down right now, wherever you can," Warmaster commanded.
"There's a ruined church nearby," the pilot replied, sending coordinates.
"Take us in," Warmaster confirmed.
The gunship banked sharply, dodging a volley of concentrated fire, and headed for a cluster of high towers where anti-aircraft defenses were momentarily thinner. The Valkyrie shot through a gaping hole in a destroyed dome.
Five or six meters above the ground, the side hatch flew open, and a howling gale rushed into the cabin.
"It's go time, boys! For Mankind, for the Emperor! We are the Emperor's beasts of burden—loyal and fearless! It's hammer time!" Warmaster roared the Chapter's battle cry before leaping out.
With a dull THUD, Warmaster landed safely, followed by the others, some of whom shouted non-canonical battle cries: "For the Alliance, for the Rift!" and "For the Lich King Emperor!"
The players clumsily formed tactical fireteams. Their tactical movements, patched together from local PDF guides and online forums, were rough around the edges.
Mist clung to the ruined church; sickly, rotting plants grew everywhere, their leaves slick with sticky liquid. Swarms of shiny black flies buzzed over the putrefying corpses.
A strange growl cut through the fog. Plague Zombies, covered in grotesque green fungal spots, sensed the living and lurched from the mist. Dripping with foul liquid and madness in their eyes, they stumbled toward the players.
"Fire!" Warmaster shouted.
Grenade launchers barked, tearing into the shambling masses. The player with the flamethrower pulled the trigger, and scorching flames swept out like a dragon's breath, incinerating the zombies and the buzzing flies.
On the transport deck of the Imperial Glory, the activity was at a fever pitch. Tech-Priests and naval technicians worked furiously, prepping the last transport boats and Titans for deployment.
Rigby checked his data tablet; the refreshed mission required them to deploy within thirty minutes of the orbital bombardment ending and assist the armored forces in punching through the enemy's defensive line.
The moment the orbital bombardment was declared over, Rigby shouted: "Praise Omnissiah, let's roll out!" As if on cue, the Zaku 01 Titans on the deck blasted their deafening horns in unison.