"Exiting warp in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... IMPACT!" Augustus's voice rang out as Arcadia tore out of the Warp.
It took me less than a fraction of a second to scan the system.Clearly, we were too late.An armada of World Eaters and Word Bearers was already conducting a full-scale invasion. Cornelius's screen turned blood red as it counted enemy vessels—first in the hundreds, then thousands—without stopping.
"ENEMY VESSELS!" Cornelius growled. "One hundred—no, three hundred—it's climbing, still climbing!"
"Condition One alert. Augustus, try to make contact with the Ultramarines. In the meantime, jam their communications. Cornelius, target their battleships and cruisers." I issued the orders as I approached the helm.
The green alert lights shifted to red. The crew beyond the bridge already knew something was wrong—likely a traitor assault. Which meant we were too late.
The traitors struck first. Some of the Word Bearers clearly remembered us—and knew that even a single ship like Arcadia could pose a serious threat.Our defense fields absorbed the first wave of fire. Then Arcadia retaliated.Laser cannons unleashed a devastating volley. Focused beams pierced enemy hulls, obliterating ships in the blink of an eye.
Rage, contempt, and countless other emotions surged through the heretics like a warp storm. The Immaterium stirred as the Word Bearers launched their full might at Arcadia.Their ground forces were already deployed planetside—freeing their fleet to focus entirely on us.Thousands of ships opened fire on Arcadia.
Despite the sheer number and intensity of the barrage, Arcadia's unmatched speed and maneuverability allowed her to evade most of the fire—something any navy would envy.Laser beams, like sniper shots across the void, cut down ship after ship.To the pirate crew watching, the enemy fleet felt endless.No matter how many vessels erupted in plasma fire, more kept coming.
The Dark Matter shields held firm—absorbing hit after hit—but the intensity was growing too great.
"Captain! Shields at 20%! We're about to lose them!" a pirate yelled from the lower tier of the bridge.
"Cloak the ship! Now!" I barked, turning the helm hard to avoid a head-on collision."That asteroid belt—we enter it and then cloak!"
With a sharp maneuver, Harlock slammed Arcadia's rear into an enemy vessel.The impact crumpled an entire segment of the traitor ship—and Arcadia took damage too.But the mist—Arcadia's living armor—swiftly flowed over the hull, sealing internal and external breaches in seconds.
"Shields to the aft!" I ordered, rotating the ship to face away from the enemy fleet.
Arcadia's shields were mightier than anything the Word Bearers had faced so far.Hundreds of Infernal-class cruisers focused their fire—yet the shielding systems absorbed the energy without a flicker. No distortion. No failure.
When it became clear we were retreating, the traitors intensified their assault, searching for weaknesses—trying to punch through.But their efforts were futile.
As Arcadia slipped into the dense asteroid field, something unsettling happened.From the hull's fractures, vents, and cooling ducts, black mist began to pour out—thick, oily, unnatural.Like a living shadow, it wrapped around the ship, devouring light and jamming auspex signals.
Within seconds, Arcadia vanished.She disappeared from radar. Visual contact—lost. Vox—silent.To the enemy, it was as if she had never been there.And then... silence. And unease.
"They really can't see us," someone on the bridge murmured, stunned.
We drifted silently, less than a kilometer from enemy destroyers—and none noticed us.Arcadia moved slowly, gliding past enemy cruisers.Harlock had a plan: strike the World Eaters from behind.And he was ready to launch that assault.
"CAPTAIN! We have a signal! I'm establishing contact with the ground forces!" Augustus cried out, nearly an hour into the battle.
"Patch it through."
A hologram flared to life in the center of the command deck.
Even the command center was under heavy bombardment.Corpses of traitor Astartes littered the floor like an ugly, grotesque carpet.The man commanding the defense was unmistakably an Ultramarines Evocati, a veteran too injured—or too old—for frontline battle, now leading others in his place.His ornate armor and helmet bore the marks of service and survival.
"Commander, I am Captain Harlock. At your Primarch's request, we've come to evacuate as many as we can. Authorization code: Ultima-X13/Gemina. We cannot ensure orbital superiority—evacuation will occur under bombardment."
Hearing the code, the Evocati slammed a fist against his armored chest.
"Courage and Honor! Orfeo Cassandar, Legate Evocati and field commander."
"Legate Orfeo, gather your forces at Point D6—it's the furthest zone from enemy lines and has minimal orbital presence." I said, drawing a pocket watch from my coat.
"Evacuation begins one hour from... now. See you on the ground."
"I'll gather as many forces as I can. Are you able to transport Titans?" Cassandar asked, issuing orders while waiting for a reply.
"We are, but the return journey will be very uncomfortable," I warned, knowing that the number of people I was about to let onto the ship would be enormous — downright overwhelming.
"My men are tough. They'll endure harsh conditions. See you in an hour."
The Vox connection was cut off at the last second.But those few seconds were enough to establish the what, where, and how.Now they had to reach the extraction point.
It wasn't difficult — they could start moving even now — but opening the hatches would break the ship's cloak.So they would spend the next hour replenishing the Dark Matter reserves.
"Have the medical team prepare, same for the rescue and assault squads. As soon as we open the hatches, the assault team is to assist in defending the evacuees, the rescue team will help carry wounded Astartes and soldiers to designated compartments," I ordered, turning the helm toward the planet. "Shields are to remain at full power for the entire evacuation. All non-essential systems are to be shut down."
The battle on the planet's surface bore no resemblance to the engagements they had stored in memory — this was a one-sided slaughter.The number of traitor Astartes had completely overwhelmed even the mighty forces stationed on Armatura.Were it not for Legate Cassandar, a veteran of hundreds of battles, the defense would likely have already collapsed.
"One hour to evacuation! Rally point D6! We're falling back! Inform every soldier to move to the rally point as instructed!" the Legate shouted his orders.
"The southern line is collapsing, Commander!" reported the vox-officer.
"Have them fall back — we're retreating too! Pack up all supplies — if it can't be taken, destroy it! How many Titans do we have left?"
"We have four Warlord-class and nine Warhound-class remaining," answered Avenius, deputy of the 1st Company.
"Send one Warlord and all Warhounds to the battlefield — they'll act as a decoy. Set their self-destruct systems to activate one hour from now. From now until the rendezvous, every regiment is to operate independently."
Soldiers ran through the ruins of the base, grabbing whatever they could and setting demolition charges.The Astartes loaded supplies onto infantry vehicles to move as much as possible.They had to cover nearly 20 kilometers to reach the destination point.
They had to be fast — otherwise, the enemy's artillery fire would catch them.