"Enemies of the Imperium, hear this! You are not here to win-you are here to die! The Emperor of Mankind stands with us, and by His will, we are invincible! His soldiers will gun you down without mercy, His war machines will crush your lines into dust, and His mighty artillery will bring the very sky crashing down upon your heads! You will fail, for the Emperor's will is absolute!
Today, He has given us His greatest weapons: faith, courage, and fire from the heavens! Prepare yourselves, for we are the warriors of the Imperium Caelestis! We are the hammer of the stars! And today... is our victory!"
The voice echoed across the entire territory of the Brok'Mor Empire.
Ships passing through its borders fell silent. If they had merely scoffed at the orc empire before, now it felt as though they had spit in its face... or more accurately, defecated upon its head.
"ADUUUAAAAAARGGHHHHH!!!"
A furious roar shook the war palace on Ghazgog Prime.
Upon learning that Zul'kar had fallen into human hands, Brok'Mer-the brutal ruler of the Brok'Mor Empire-was consumed by rage. In a blind fury, he strangled the slave girl serving him to death-without hesitation, without mercy.
"SEND THE ENTIRE FLEET!!"
"I WILL EXECUTE THE HUMANS BEFORE THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!"
---
The orc fleet launched-though calling it a "fleet" might be generous. It was more like a cloud of flying junk, barely held together with rusted bolts and brute will. It was a miracle these things could even take off.
This was not the Warhammer 40K kind of orks-no WAAAGH!, no absurd warships that worked through sheer belief.
There were no Mega Gargants. No scrap-metal monstrosities capable of challenging an Imperium Titan.
Instead, it was an assembly of discarded tech and stolen weaponry, cobbled together from planets across the stars. All of it funneled into their chaotic stronghold-Ghazgog Prime.
Armed with these rusted weapons and rabid warlust, the orcs were preparing to strike deep into human outer territories.
---
"HUMANS! LISTEN TO ME!!"
"SURRENDER ZUL'KAR NOW! OR WE WILL EXECUTE HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF HUMAN SLAVES!"
Brok'Mer stood tall, gripping a massive machine gun in his right hand and a colossal axe in his left, broadcasting his threat through the interstellar communication network, reaching all corners of space.
---
"Your Majesty, Emperor... What should we do?"
Around Kenthelion stood the High Sages of the Mechanicus, the Archbishops of the Imperial Church, and commanders displayed through holographic screens. Officials from countless departments held their breath, awaiting his response.
Kenthelion's voice rang through every comm channel:
"He won't sacrifice strategic advantage for petty revenge. He can kill if he wishes-but for every human they slaughter today, he will ensure a thousand brown-skinned orcs die in return."
---
"Indeed," declared the Archbishop with fervor.
"Our Emperor does not love individuals-he loves all of humanity. Everything he does, he does for the survival and future of our kind!"
---
"Inform me by this evening," Kenthelion continued coldly,
"of the execution of every alien within the borders of the Caelestis Imperium. Then, send their heads into the outer space."
He knew that if he was going to respond to this threat, he had to show strength-
Because if he hesitated now... he would face something far worse.
"Wait a moment, Your Majesty," Jim Raynor spoke up through the holographic transmission. "Is there really no way to save them?"
Kenthelion turned his gaze toward the holographic display, where the faces of Jim Raynor, Wallfield, and Alexis Stukov were projected.
The three of them were known for their deep hatred of alien races. But when it came to humans, they would never stand idly by. They'll try to save as many as they can, Kenthelion thought to himself.
"Jim, I know exactly what you're thinking. How about this-let's send a rescue fleet to evacuate them as best we can."
He continued, "We'll dispatch ships like the Normandy SR-2, the Scimitar-Darth Maul's ship-the UNSC Prowler, and elite infiltration units: Ghosts, Nova Terra, ONI Spartans, Deathwatch Kill Teams, and N7 Operatives."
"They'll prioritize saving children and women. As for the rest-if they can't be saved-you won't be able to blame anyone, Raynor. How does that sound?"
After hearing the proposal, Raynor let out a sigh of relief. "Alright. If they truly can't be saved, I can accept that. At least we'll have tried."
Without delay, Kenthelion gave the command to Spayer to deploy the rescue fleet and initiate the operation at once.
Thousands of ships-Normandy SR-2s, Scimitars, and UNSC Prowlers-were dispatched toward Ghazgog Prime, led by Commander Shepard, Nova Terra, and Gabriel Tosh.
The covert rescue operation had begun-just before the great war was set to explode.