"Commander Cestus, Harald's battle group is closing on the enemy, and they've already boarded the enemy battleship!"
The adjutant's voice came over the communicator, mingled with the dull thunder of firing macro-cannons.
Cestus did not turn around. He was staring at the main tactical display, where the densely packed friendly and enemy markers were shifting at an alarming rate.
The front line was being steadily pushed back, but one spike-like marker was driving alone deep into the enemy formation.
It was Harald's assault formation, charging toward the enormous Renegade-class battleship.
Cestus followed that marker with his gaze, looking toward the center of the distant enemy fleet group, now plunged into chaos.
There, he could make out the silhouettes of ships with breaches rammed into their hulls, and flames climbing along their plating.
Dense explosions flashed repeatedly across that area. At almost the same moment, his own judgment began gnawing at his reason. By any conventional tactical assessment, such an all-or-nothing boarding action had virtually no chance of success.
"What now, Commander?" the adjutant asked beside him.
"Increase our firepower. Commit every reserve to the front. Suppress the enemy's guns and give Harald covering fire," Cestus ordered.
With that order, the tempo throughout command headquarters changed.
Reserves were thrown into the gaps, warships that had just withdrawn were sent back into battle, and ships originally assigned to defend the fortress's final defensive perimeter were redirected into the thickest fighting.
The bombardment intensified.
Under Cestus's orders, the Imperium's remaining warships concentrated their fire on the rebel warships flanking Harald's assault formation, hammering them to prevent them from turning toward and firing on the boarded battleship.
Harald fought his way down the corridor, swinging his battle axe.
Inside the Renegade-class ship named the Herald of Destruction, the air was thick with smoke,