Sarah remained silent for a short while. Within those eyes, housed in the shell of a ripper, complex emotions flickered. It was something she had only recently begun to comprehend: admiration.
"You always think of things I cannot, Raynor. You are impressive," she said, her voice carrying a note of praise that she hadn't even noticed herself.
What could be more rewarding than receiving praise from the one you love? Excited, Raynor reached out and rubbed the ripper's head. The little creature squinted its compound eyes in comfort, and a few pink bubbles floated above its head.
"Because I am Raynor, after all!" he said with a laugh.
Sarah laughed along with him. The laughter was light, but it felt remarkably warm within her usually cool demeanor. Raynor stroked the ripper and looked out the window. In the direction of Saint Gallus Castle, the lights were ablaze. He flashed a mischievous grin.
"Now, let's see how Luna handles the next move."
At the same time, within the underground Mechanicus branch temple of Saint Gallus Castle.
Luna stood in a secret room, facing a holographic projection of her fleet. Five cruisers, twenty frigates, and countless transport and support ships—this was the entirety of the assets she could currently mobilize. It wasn't enough; it was far from enough. She needed more. Faster speed, stronger firepower, and a more perfect plan.
But just as Raynor had predicted, Leo was indeed dragging her down. The Paladins and retainers who had sided with Leo were creating various troubles within the family. Requests for troop deployments were rejected, and reports for ship departures were delayed; everything was moving much slower than anticipated.
Even more headache-inducing was the Mechanicus. Those "cogboys" were currently all immersed in the STC research labs and simply wouldn't budge. She had talked herself hoarse just to squeeze these resources out of them. Wanting more? Not a chance. She had to rely on herself.
Fortunately, she still had her sharp intellect. Luna stared at the hologram, her mind racing. She had already learned of the relationship between Raynor and the Tyranids through His guidance. The pink ripper on Raynor's person, the Governor's wife named Isud, and those so-called "Frost Dragon Kin" on the ice fields—His greatest desire was to know the secret behind how this connection was formed.
However, she hadn't brought this up during the council meeting. Why? Because she wasn't a fool; the opponent surely knew about her own sorted affairs as well—her unspeakable connection to the Lord of Change and her deep ties with the Mechanicus. Everyone had their little secrets. Just like her and Callum years ago; both sides knew the other was compromised, yet they worked together for years. Some things didn't need to be brought to the table.
What fascinated her most was that Raynor hadn't chosen to launch a catastrophic swarm invasion of Brevis. Instead, like her, he had opted for "cosplay," playing the role of a Governor and a God-chosen hero of Brevis. This gave Luna an intense interest in Raynor. What exactly was he trying to do?
Regardless of his goal, one thing was certain: he was a total "schemer." Having viewed some of Raynor's past experiences through the great power of the Lord of Change, Luna knew his methods were not as straightforward as they appeared on the surface. Therefore, she had to guard against any underhanded tricks he might play.
Luna pulled up another hologram—the fleet data she had just ordered the servitors to scan. She had long anticipated that Raynor would use Genestealers to infiltrate her ships. If those omnipresent Genestealers could control Skitarii, how much easier would it be to control ordinary crew members?
Thus, she had issued an order to use servitors—the ones with the lowest possibility of infection. These pure flesh-and-blood machines, with their brains lobotomized and bodies highly mechanized, left no opening for genetic contamination. She ordered them to use auspex arrays to check the most critical cruisers one by one.
The results indeed revealed quite a few hidden Genestealers. Luna sneered. He was too naive; how could such small tricks work against a Champion of the Lord of Change like her? With a single command, those Genestealers were purged. The greatest hidden threat was now resolved.
Three days later.
The spaceport, the ship Measure of Discipline.
This was the most elite Tyrant-class cruiser in Luna's hands and one of the capital ships she planned to use as her flagship. Tyrant-class cruisers were equipped with supercharged plasma macro-cannon arrays, possessing the longest range in their class. Tactically positioned as long-range snipers, they could strike from distances the enemy couldn't reach. To an opposing fleet, they were invisible reapers.
After three days of screening and purging, all suspicious Genestealers had been cleared. The ship was in good condition and ready for departure. Luna stood on the bridge, looking out at the vast starry sky through the viewport.
"Prepare for a test flight," she ordered.
The engines of the Measure of Discipline began to warm up. Blue light surged from the thruster nozzles, and the entire warship began to move. With a deafening roar, it detached from the spaceport and headed toward the orbit of Brevis. The grayish-blue planet behind them gradually shrank, looking like a beautiful eye.
The Measure of Discipline easily completed three laps around Brevis. Its speed was fast, its posture stable, and all systems were operating normally. A satisfied smile appeared on Luna's face.
"That's enough," she said to the captain. "Return to the spaceport and prepare for the official launch."
The Measure of Discipline turned around and headed back toward the spaceport. Right then, a problem emerged. The ship's speed suddenly began to drop. It wasn't the sudden stop associated with an engine failure, but a gradual slowing, as if something were dragging it back. The sound of the engines became unstable, rising and falling like the intermittent breathing of an asthmatic patient.
"What's happening?!" Luna rushed to the console.
Technicians pounded frantically on their keyboards as auspex data fluctuated wildly.
"Engine output power dropping. Fifteen percent... fifteen percent..." It didn't stop until it reached thirty percent.
"Energy supply is unstable! Suspected unknown interference!"
"All systems are fluctuating! We... we can't control it!"
The Measure of Discipline slowed further, struggling forward through the void like a wounded beast. Luna's face was ashen. She knew what this meant. If this happened in combat, the drop in speed caused by engine instability would be enough to turn the warship into a sitting duck. Enemy torpedoes could easily catch up, and gunfire could hit with precision. It would become space junk within minutes.
"Return to port," she squeezed the words through her teeth. "Return at full speed."
The Measure of Discipline used its remaining power to limp back toward the spaceport. Yet, after about ten minutes of travel, the engine output returned to normal levels, as if the malfunction had never existed. Half an hour later, it returned smoothly to the dock.
But when Luna stepped off the bridge, her face was as dark as a coal pit.
"Investigate," she said to the technicians meeting her. "Find out exactly where the problem is."
The Tech-priests responsible for the inspection looked at each other, not daring to speak. They had checked the ship three times before take-off. The Genestealers had been purged, and all systems were normal. Theoretically, the ship should have been perfect.
But an accident had undeniably occurred, and the leader had been on the ship to experience it personally. Where, exactly, was the problem?