In the early days of the Imperium's Great Crusade, the three central figures of the War Council, the Emperor, Malcador, and Horus, all fixed their attention on the conflict in the Wheel of Fire system.
The King of Vostroya and the Wolf King of Fenris extended their hunt from Fenris into the void, each choosing a side to favor.
Fresh intelligence raised the number of Orks from the hundreds of millions to billions.
This meant that the war in the Wheel of Fire was the largest-scale conflict the Imperium had faced since the start of the Great Crusade.
The Shadows of Order had made the first move, but Nareth was delayed at Arlenis, caught in the rebellion orchestrated by Planetary Governor Francesc Soler.
The Wolf King's furious advance allowed the Sixth Legion to catch up with the Eleventh Legion.
In the third-to-last week of Terra's calendar year 819.M30, two chapters of the Shadow of Order and the Space Wolves simultaneously tore back into realspace through the Mandeville Point.
The Sixth Legion's Gloriana class battleship had not yet been completed, so Leman Russ temporarily established his council aboard his Legion's former flagship.
The bridge was dimmer than that of most ships, more like a wolf's den.
Russ's piercing blue eyes locked onto the hololithic display. Within seconds, he grasped the entire flow of battle.
Though months had passed since his return to the Imperium, Russ still carried the crude, uncultured image many in high command associated with him. Only a handful saw through the facade.
The Wolf King's ability to learn was extraordinary. In just five days, he had mastered High Gothic.
After brief tutelage under the Emperor, Horus, and Malcador, Russ was judged capable of commanding a Legion in war on his own.
The Wheel of Fire would be his trial by fire.
He watched the hololith. First twenty-five blazing light points appeared… then one hundred thirty more… then two hundred fifty-six after that…
Russ instantly realized the Ork fleet numbered well over a thousand battleships. His fangs bared in a sharp grin as he growled:
"I knew it. Intelligence is dung. On a battlefield where I contend with Nareth, how could the enemy ever be so few?"
His booming words immediately infected the bridge, lifting the wild spirits of Wolves and officers alike.
Enoch glanced at Russ's wolf-helm, a masterpiece crafted by the All-Father's personal artificer, a symbol of Legion honor.
It was also the Wolf King's wager, his father's gift, and his trust. Russ believed he would claim victory.
Clenching his fist, the Wolf Lord swore:
"I will never lose to Sanchez. The Wolf King's blade is meant only for the Wolves.'"
He spoke in Fenrisian, not raising his voice, yet his words carried across the bridge, rough and thunderous in that Fenrisian way.
"The good news is, we aren't shackled by Nareth's pups this time. We can run free."
Then he barked the order: "Let Nareth and the Imperium see the speed of the pack. Attack!"
"Attack!"
Enoch howled, and across the fleet of the Space Wolves, engines roared to full power.
Each battleship bore a snarling wolf's head upon its prow, their hulls wrapped in flickering void shields.
The escort craft, eager for the hunt, surged ahead first.
Twenty-five capital ships slowly swung their prows about, lumbering after.
The grey ships spread into an assault formation, radiating outward from the flagship like a sphere of destruction.
Hundreds of glittering motes blazed beneath the crimson glow of the system's sun, the fleet accelerating to attack speed.
The flagship's bridge darkened further, sharp alarms shrieking.
Rassivin scanned the vid-screens as the weapon crews reported ready, fire plans finalized.
"Turn three degrees upward," Russ ordered. "Kill it."
The flagship plowed through wreckage, its lances vomiting crystalline beams of death that speared into the Ork vessel's hideous hull.
Broadside batteries unleashed torrents of laser fire, raking across greenhide ships.
The bridge shuddered as servitors collapsed, sparking from torn cabling.
The Wolves' ships took punishment, but inflicted far worse in return.
That was the Wolves' way of war in space. It always had been.
The Shadow of Order, however, fought differently.
Reforming into a fleet-wide battle line was slow and difficult, especially for Astartes cruisers the size of cities.
With the Primarch's authority, Diana Pauline commanded this, the Imperium's largest void war to date.
Through her command console, she relayed orders to hundreds of sector commanders.
They tracked the positions of all surrounding ships in real time, feeding trillions of sensor readings into cogitators, ensuring vessels never strayed into each other's paths.
Thousands of junior officers made snap decisions, engines roaring to perfect frequencies without error.
The Eleventh Legion's hundreds of thousands of thralls and crew scrambled to energize conduits, charge weapons, and prepare for war.
The black battleships of the Eleventh moved as one, precise and deliberate, each step of the plan unfolding.
The mighty Thorne of Shadows of Sovereignty drew the attention of countless Ork battleships. The greenskin flotilla swarmed it like blood-crazed sharks.
Grots danced wildly over their crude cannon decks, blasting away at the Sovereignty.
Each discharge flung some squealing grot tumbling dozens of meters, smashing onto the deck in a daze.
The unluckiest were shredded by exploding barrels or engulfed by fire.
Missiles, shells, torpedoes, all slammed against the Sovereignty's armored hide.
But its colossal void shields absorbed the storm.
Then its prow erupted in cataclysmic fury, light lances and torpedoes ripping apart the void, blossoms of light illuminating the stars.
Its macro-batteries hammered Ork hulls stitched together with scrap and rust.
On the Sovereignty's bridge, the Flagship Captain fixed her eyes on the displays.
From the feedback, Diana judged that the greenskins' force field generators produced shields rivaling Imperial void defenses.
She frowned in puzzlement. Lightning crackled, toxic smoke belched, yet somehow the barrier held strong.
Her curiosity lasted only a heartbeat. She seized the vox and gave the order:
"Aether-cannons, fire!"
The Sovereignty, the Void Hunter, and eleven more capital ships unleashed shimmering aether beams.
They punched through Ork capital-ship shields, the second volley detonating their hulls.
Explosions cascaded, shockwaves tearing through the void, and the Sovereignty's torment eased.
The Second Chapter arrived at the void-node, intercepting the reckless Ork charge toward the flagship.
The Seventh Chapter advanced in formation, with the Void Hunter as the spearpoint, plunging into the breach the Sovereignty had carved.
Under Diana's command, the Eleventh Legion's fleet moved as one organism.
The Sovereignty feigned weakness, baiting the enemy into overextension.
The Ork assault against it was blunted by the Second Chapter.
The Seventh swung down like a scythe, cleaving into the exposed flank of the greenskins.
The battle for the Wheel of Fire system unfolded just as Nareth had planned.
But as ship-time ticked into 820.M30, the system suddenly erupted with a gravitational tide…
...
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