Phi'rios, aboard the Second Fleet's mothership, had the distinct impression that the enemy had gone mad.
Would their commander stop at nothing to win?
No wonder Tarian had been defeated by them.
As for whether Tarian was still alive, it no longer mattered. At least his judgment had not been wrong.
Phi'rios quickly calmed down, analyzed the battlefield, listed his advantages, and identified the enemy's objective. What had already happened was done; there was no point dwelling on it.
"Send me all reports from the ground."
This place was close to the homeworlds of their Eastern Star Region.
And the enemy had only a few "barges."
They had more warships than the enemy, greater firepower, and the allied forces of an entire world.
Before they knew exactly how many reinforcements the enemy had,
they needed to wipe out the known advance forces as quickly as possible.
"Here, here, and here. Their Drop Pods weren't deployed at random—they were deliberate. Their target is the ruins."
Even at tremendous cost, the enemy insisted on dropping soldiers onto Karamat. Their objective was clearly the technological ruins of this Forge World. Perhaps they understood better than he did just how valuable this world's technology was. That was why they were willing to pay such a terrible price to seize it before him.
"It seems both the Supreme Ethereal of the homeworld and I underestimated the value of these ruins."
"Then we absolutely cannot let them seize it first."
Phi'rios took up the supreme scepter that symbolized both the Ethereal caste and his status as a commander.
He walked out of the command room.
"Continue expanding our advantage."
"Numbers, fleet strength, allied forces."
The advantage was entirely his. How could he lose?
War meant that whatever the enemy wanted, they had to be denied it