High in the mountains, Jaghatai Khan brought his massive yet sleek motorcycle to a halt. Like a nomadic hunter on the high plains, he surveyed the buildings below with a piercing gaze.
Half the Stormguard split off to scout the defenses and condition of the blasphemous complex from every direction.
The signal had been sent. The rest of his Progeny would arrive soon.
The battle plan was simple.
Once the main force arrived, mobile units would launch a feint to draw the enemy out, then the armoured force would mount a full assault. After destroying as much of the complex as possible, they would conduct aerial reconnaissance to assess the buildings before making their final breach.
Devising such a plan was, in truth, a concession to necessity.
This was not realspace. Even the Khan could not conjure up a warship to deliver an Orbital Strike.
Under normal circumstances, the Khan would have preferred to use a small force to lure the enemy out of the complex, then, after confirming there was no Void Shield, either call down an Orbital Strike or use his superior, highly mobile forces to swiftly encircle and destroy the enemy's fighting strength.
Then his Progeny could join the Sons of Dorn or the Sons of Guilliman, who were better suited to ground assaults, and easily wipe out the enemies cowering amid the ruined buildings.
The Sons of Russ would have been a good choice, too.
At that thought, the Khan found his mind wandering.
I wonder how Leman Russ has been lately. Once I get back, I'll go drinking with him. Fenris does make some fine liquor.
Perhaps recalling its taste, Jaghatai even smacked his lips.
When he had set off in pursuit of the long-ears, Jaghatai had never expected to get lost in the Webway.