Aboard the Piszczek, within the strategium, amber and crimson lights from the control consoles bathed Nimrod's gleaming obsidian armor in a radiant glow. The tactical vid-holoscreen, spanning an entire wall, emitted a brilliant cascade of plasma light.
His gaze fixed upon the holographic projection of the Vostonia System, Nimrod addressed Rosicky with commanding authority.
"I require intelligence on the Cult Mechanicus."
"King Nimrod, I have received the latest battle reports. The xenos fleet plundering the Vostonia System comprises two battlecruiser-class warships and twelve destroyer-class raiders, of which seven raiders have been destroyed."
Rosicky, manipulating the cogitator, established vox-linkages with allied vessels, marking the xenos warships in red upon the holographic projection.
Nimrod scrutinized the two massive xenos vessels, their harpoon-shaped hulls with protruding spear-like prows and serrated wings splayed outward, perfectly matching the battlecruisers of the Fra'ow in his genetic memory.
The fleet's composition aligned with Fra'ow tactics: solitary warships defended planets from orbital strikes, while paired vessels launched raids, a hallmark of their reputation as void nomads.
"The enemy's capital ships wield esoteric cannons, causing immediate shield overload upon impact. The smaller vessels lack such formidable weaponry."
"Moreover, the xenos have landed upon numerous islands of the Cradle of Seas, pillaging extensively, severing Vostonia's grain supply entirely."
"Our forces muster fifty-one vessels: one Mechanicus ark, Glory of Fire, three cruisers, fifteen frigates, and thirty-two destroyers."
Rosicky marked allied ships in green upon the projection.
"Despite our numerical superiority, most frigates and destroyers hail from Vostonia's noble houses, rendering coordination arduous."
Rosicky refrained from elaboration, yet Nimrod discerned his meaning. Evidently, the Mechanicus-appointed fleet commanders lacked prowess in void warfare, where success demanded not only calculation but the artistry of coordination and communication.
Yet, in void combat, computation remained indispensable. Nimrod's eyes swept across the flickering screens, absorbing each vessel's parameters.
"Enemy vessel A-I, distance: two hundred seventy-one thousand five hundred three kilometers, phase four-nine-two, inclination six…"
"Enemy vessel A-II, distance: one hundred ninety-six thousand twenty-four kilometers, phase seven-five-eight, inclination three…"
Though this marked Nimrod's first command aboard a voidship, he drew upon his genetic memory, assimilating knowledge with astonishing celerity.
In orbital dynamics, phase denoted the relative position of two spacecraft within the same orbit or orbital plane, typically measured by the angle formed between their respective lines to the planet's core or an elliptical orbit's focus.
Nimrod recognized that the Piszczek could not withstand a single salvo from the aether cannons. To seize the Fra'ow battlecruisers, brute force was untenable.
His eyes traversed the holographic projection, calculating velocities, phases, and parameters of both allied and enemy fleets, piercing the veil of their tactics.
The Mechanicus sage commanding allied vessels sought to leverage numerical superiority to encircle and annihilate the enemy.
The Fra'ow, employing tactical evasion, avoided encirclement while wielding aether cannons for devastating strikes.
Nimrod's mind raced, conducting simulations. Five minutes later, a confident smile graced his visage as he issued his decree.
"Alter course to six-nine-four, inclination eight, and advance."
Szczesny, at his side, relayed the command with alacrity, his eyes fixed upon the projection, striving to comprehend Nimrod's intent.
Rosicky, pondering, traced a blue trajectory upon the hologram.
"You intend to launch a surprise assault within the Wisła Asteroid Belt."
"Precisely."
Rosicky clutched his data-slate, querying its archives.
"The Wisła Asteroid Belt, situated between Vostonia and the Cradle of Seas, comprises three hundred sixty-two asteroids."
He consulted the battle plan transmitted by the Mechanicus ark, locating pertinent details.
"As for Sage Kivior-9's calculations, enemy vessel A-I is projected to pass through the Wisła Asteroid Belt in fifty-six stellar hours, with a probability of 65.13%."
"Enemy vessel A-II is projected to enter the Wisła Asteroid Belt in twenty-seven stellar hours, with a probability of 79.26%."
"No. A-II will enter the Wisła Asteroid Belt in twenty-six stellar hours."
Nimrod declared with unwavering certainty, prompting Rosicky's brow to furrow.
"Why are you so certain?"
"Calculation and deduction."
"Sage Kivior-9, Vostonia's Logis, was renowned for computation and logic even as an Info-Executioner. Yet even he cannot assert such certainty."
Szczesny's face darkened with indignation at Rosicky's tone, while Wojciech, though displeased, doubted Nimrod's calculations surpassed a Logis's precision.
"Time will reveal the truth. Rosicky, your task is to modify boarding torpedoes to accommodate my stature."
"Szczesny, lead the Fourth Regiment in training assault boats to interface with the cogitator's learning protocols."
"Wojciech, continue refining waterproof weaponry."
Rosicky held his tongue, resolving to await the outcome before advising the imperious Nimrod.
As the three vessels charted course for the Wisła Asteroid Belt, at the Ninth Altar of Nowy Sącz's hive, Tech-Priest Zelinski emerged from the sanctum, striding toward his I-9 manufactorum.
Dismissing an obsequious, corpulent overseer, Zelinski entered his laboratory.
Shedding his crimson robes, he revealed thighs adorned with dense blue feathers.
Donning a blue hooded cloak, Zelinski approached an intricate blue mechanical dial, segmented into nine regions. Eight peripheral sections bore avian motifs—parrot, vulture, and others in sequence—while the central figure, a silver sea eagle, stood lifelike, its head aloft, diamond eyes glinting under lumen illumination.
This mechanical dial was no work of artisan or servitor but Zelinski's own creation.
A mechanical tendril extended from his right shoulder, inserting into the central raven's beak.
The dial whirred to life, its nine "birds" animating in a cacophony of mechanical clanks, rising and falling chaotically.
After nine revolutions, the dial halted, gears grinding as a portal before him yawned open.
Zelinski stepped through, raising his tendril to insert it into a silver sea eagle's maw upon the wall, sealing the portal behind him.
Descending, his un-augmented eyes' irises shifted to a predatory yellow, mirroring a sea eagle's gaze.
After traversing nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine steps, his vision beheld a circular, irregular platform, morphing every nine seconds—circle, ellipse, rectangle, and beyond.
Like him, seven others emerged from disparate passages, clad in blue robes, converging upon an emaciated elder at the platform's heart, clutching a crystal staff with claw-like hands.
The elder, more inhuman than Underhive mutants, hunched like an ostrich, his hooked beak and multicolored feathered neck stark. Shoeless, his taloned feet mirrored the sea eagle's claws of his hands.
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🤦 : Oops! You've reached the limit for today. But just for your power stone and recommendation I might— no I would add additional Chapter.
20PS — 1 additional Chapter
40PS — 2 additional Chapter and special mention if you've contributed 3 or more PS.
That's all. Enjoy Reading!