Lorgar stood before the encrypted communications terminal. The arguments continued scrolling across the screen, but the roaring, mockery, and cold calculations could no longer distract him in the slightest.
He drew a deep breath. Air laced with the scents of metal, data wax, and the ship itself filled his lungs, swiftly becoming the pure composure of a battlefield commander.
His gaze flashed like lightning. His fingers struck the virtual keyboard steadily, issuing clear, unquestionable orders:
"Angron, Curze, your two Legions will serve as the vanguard and main assault spearhead of this relief operation."
"Angron, your War Hounds will lead the frontal assault. Tear open the thickest outer layer of the Ork encirclement and create a breakout corridor for Kras's fleet. At the same time, cause as much chaos as possible and draw the attention of the enemy's main force."
"Curze, your Night Lords will follow close behind. Your objective is not to engage the Ork tide in a head-on slaughter, but to exploit the chaos Angron creates to infiltrate, isolate, and eliminate command nodes and heavy weapons platforms within the Ork fleet, along with any critical energy hubs or areas housing the 'boss' aboard that gigantic scrap fortress."
"Your mission is not to rout them, but to cripple them and cut off their heads. Follow my coordinated orders. No independent action, and absolutely no 'sparring' with one another before engaging the enemy. Understood?"
Lorgar then turned to the other two.
"Perturabo, Mortarion, if you happen to have any organized fleets available for deployment in this sector or within range of nearby jump points, currently conducting routine Great Crusade operations or patrol duties, report them to me so they can be incorporated into this campaign's order of battle."
"Perturabo, I need your expertise in planning sieges and orbital bombardment, as well