Shields flared up as the first shots impacted the titanic freighters. Despite the thousands of functional shield projectors that remained, the defensive fields roiled and writhed under the impacts. Voracious energies danced between the projectors and arced between the focal points, lashing out at any foreign intrusion they detected. Occasionally the weakened shields would slam into the hull of the vessel, tearing loose plates. The large chunks of debris briefly flew through space before impacting on the shields, where the field solidified and denied them passage. Most of the time. On multiple locations breaches were occurring and the large metal plates slipped through the gaps, causing them to fly aimlessly through space, directly into the path of the hundreds of Imperial assault craft.

Cindy sucked in a sharp breath as the pilot of their squad pushed the powerful engine to its limit, the small vessel's thrusters flaring to life as it narrowly avoided an impact, leaving scant few centimetres of space in between them. She could follow the course on the man's HUD and was absolutely terrified. Her suit's medical sensors were blinking orange, warning her of her elevated heart rate. She barely registered it, too distracted by the incredibly small margin with which the pilot continuously dodged the increasingly numerous hazards and the loud, insistent blaring of the collision alarms. "Report," she called out over the net. "What's going on? Have we been discovered?"

"The Novican fleet has opened fire on the convoy," came Dreamer's calm voice. Aside a slight increase in heartbeat, there was nothing in his medical readouts that indicated the direness of the situation. "The ships are hit by ranging shots. I estimate they will go for focus fire to limit the spread of debris."

Cindy let out a sigh of relief. "So they've not spotted us then. How dangerous will the incoming fire be?"

"We are manoeuvring towards the safe sides of the vessels to limit exposure to incoming fire, even if the shots were to core the freighters. Stray shots may occur and are dangerous at current distance." A beep rang through her helmet as a map of their surroundings popped into view, with a red line a bit further ahead. "They will become able to vaporise us instantly at this point," he calmly informed her.

Her eyes widened in response. "That is... Not good," was all she could say. She cursed herself inwardly for the simple, stupid answer. She lamented her limited experience in frontline combat. She really was out of her depth here and it was showing. Already the stress was getting to her and they hadn't even reached the planet proper. "Estimation on our success chances of reaching the planet?" she asked in an attempt to reclaim her authority. If I even have any over these creatures, she thought angrily, recalling how quick they had been to point her weapons at her on their first meeting.

"High," Dreamer replied. "I suggest you inflate the gel cushions in your pod to twenty percent. High-G manoeuvres are incoming."

Something about the inhuman's cold, collected voice made her leap to obey, despite the difference in rank. She wasn't in NavInt territory any longer. This was where commandos and special forces operated. This was the zone Genesis was, literally, made for. She entered the command and immediately let out a gasp as the cushions that surrounded her inflated by a significant margin, violently pushing the air out of her lungs. Even through the power armour she could feel the intense pressure of the gel as it stabilised her as much as it could in a slightly liquid cocoon. She knew the theory behind it. Lessen the pull of gravitational forces on the body and shield it from brutal changes in inertia, but to experience it to this level was new to her. And it's only twenty freaking percent.

Then the ship shielding them burst open in a bout of flames as the first salvo struck it dead centre and Cindy found herself fighting to keep herself conscious as the pilot really began earning his pay.

Cindy had muted herself on the coms, giving her the freedom needed to swear a blue streak unhindered. The bombardment of the freighters had begun in earnest now. Their shields were up in full as the crew put up a desperate last stand. It availed them little. Barrage after barrage slammed into the weakened vessels, tearing through metal and cargo alike. Showers of fragmentation were blown into the path of the Genesis and with growing horror, Cindy realised that they would run out of coverage long before making it to the planet. Not that this seemed to bother her companions. Neither the possibility of imminent destruction nor the insane manoeuvres that the pilot was pulling off seemed to impress them. They didn't even talk, simply allowing everything to unfold around them, not a care in the world. It was unreal. No, she corrected herself. It's inhuman. But very real.

She had read the reports, attended the briefings, followed their advance on Lufer from high in the sky. She even participated in their blasted insane training regimen! None of it held up to seeing them perform under fire. They didn't stress out, they didn't react. They simply noticed. Unmovable statues, each a demi-god of war, waiting for their moment to strike. Ever watchful of the rapidly changing HUD. Hawks watching their prey. She felt a shiver run through her back. If they were loyal to Eisel rather than the Empire, she wouldn't survive the mission. She didn't doubt that now. NavInt held many suspicions towards the enigmatic doctor. The man had plans and ambitions aplenty, and knew things about the Empire he wasn't supposed to know. Things that were supposed to remain hidden to all but a chosen few. And he was aware of NavInt's suspicions.

Ask any Imperial soldier if he wasn't worried that the man beside him might have it out for him, and they'd laugh at the absurdity of the question. The Empire simply didn't do betrayals, backstabbing or accidental friendly fire. Not as far as anyone knew. It was her job, and of her organisation, to ensure that it remained so. On the highest levels of politics, where mighty men and women clashed over beliefs on how to run the Empire, both military and civilian sector alike, those clear-cut rules began to blur. Technically, Eisel was not a part of these echelons. Technically. Getting rid of her here would clear up an annoying obstacle for him, provided he could kill her in a way that did not draw suspicion. As her eyes slid over the short list of names of her squadmates, she felt her heart turn to ice. These soldiers could make that happen. She'd have to be damned careful to not give them that chance. That was why she had chosen the command squad originally. It made any accidental deaths a lot harder. And easier to track.

Yet that still left the question of why? What did he hope to achieve in the long run? What he did want to change in the Empire? Eisel was widely recognised as an unrivalled genius, though the man's intellect had been kept back by Verloff's distinct dislike of the man. NavInt hadn't gone into panic mode when news of the two cooperating had reached them, but it was close. At the very least she could confirm Verloff's loyalty. The man wasn't acting. She had studied him well enough for that. His loyalty was to the Empire as it currently existed. He held no personal desire to change it and wanted nothing more than to do his duty in peacetime, or bereft of that, to end the war as quickly and decisively as possible so that peace could reign once more.

No, the only unanswered questions were the use of the Genesis and Eisel's goals. NavInt was more than a simple intelligence agency. They also took care of psychological profiles. It was the reason why they never allowed aliens into their ranks. Too unpredictable, not enough data. Humans were a known quantity. Aliens were not. The superhuman freaks weren't either. That was why she was here, risking life and limb. Were the Genesis still human, or close enough to it, to allow them to continue to serve? Or did they deviate enough for NavInt to forcefully pull the plug on them, as a potential threat? Were they loyal to the Empire, or to their creator?

Then a sharp beep rang through her helmet as Dreamer hijacked control of her pod and inflated her gel cushions with another eight percent, once again violently shoving the air out of her lungs. Any further thoughts went up in a puff of smoke as the vessel next to them belched flames and a cascade of explosions began to tear it apart. Now the Genesis began to react, coms network lighting up like a Christmas tree as they began to alter their plan of approach.

"Sir, I..." Nayasi began, before falling silent. Doubt formed a frown on her eyes. She could have sworn that...

"What is it?" Grevorich asked, walking over to her display. He leaned down on her chair, his eyes darting from display to display.

"Nothing, sir."

"You wouldn't have called out if it were nothing." He placed a calming hand on her shoulder. It didn't feel predatory. It felt encouraging. It was nice.

"I thought I spotted an irregularity, sir, but it's nothing. Sensor ghosts," she said, using the old slang for the minor bugs and error that seemed to always plague long range sensors, no matter how often they were calibrated.

"We're dealing with the Empire," came the gruff response. "And I don't believe in ghosts." He gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "Tell me what you saw."

"I..." she hesitated for another moment. "I picked up a burst of static that seemed to originate from outside the freighters." She turned to look at her superior officer. Not with faked desire in her eyes, but with professional candour. "It could be anything, sir. Damaged shields blasting energy away from the ship and hijacking a transmission, a radar installation that got blown off, the receiving sensors miscalculating the precise location, a—"

"Keep an eye out for it," came the curt reply. "It might be nothing," Grevorich said, his face locked up in deep thought as he gazed intensely at the display, as if he tried to burn through the distance to lay the truth bare. "Or it might be an Imperial trick."

"Status update!" Cindy screamed amidst the wailing of sirens and the dark, foreboding red warning light that flashed all through the small craft.

"We took a hit," came Dreamer's impassionate response. "Secondary cloaking systems have engaged." He switched channels for a moment, no doubt communicating with his fellows. "We dropped out of stealth for one point three two seconds."

"Damage report?"

"Assessing." Another channel switch. "Negligible. Frontal armour plate is dented due to impact. Underlying system had to be reset and is operating slightly below desired operational capacity. Minor hull breach was patched."

"So we're still under stealth?"

"Affirmative."

She resisted the urge to let out a sigh, instead choosing to isolate herself from the coms network. She replayed his voice, listened to the tone, analysed the accompanying medical data she had. Earlier, before departing on the mission, she had requisitioned part of their medical logs. She had been very subtle about it, knowing that this went well beyond her impressive level of clearance, but she had successfully convinced the medical personnel that what she needed was both essential, and not hiding any classified information. She tried to ignore the constant g-forces pulling on her and the incessant whine of the inertial dampeners, instead focusing on the pitch black interior of her drop pod, only dimly illuminated by the light from her HUD. And she compared. Heartbeat, blood pressure, average muscle tension. On Lufer there had been several moments where the Genesis had reacted. The charging of the chokepoint. The destruction of the walker. And, strangely enough, whenever the enigmatic lieutenant Dreamer had given orders that weren't perfectly in line with their plans. Something none of the the other three strike forces had gone through.

She found nothing out of the usual. The one Genesis talking to her and his brethren were perfectly within acceptable bounds. Then the vessel lurched into another new direction and she once again found her thoughts disrupted.

Nayasi kept her eyes glued to her display, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She wasn't an expert with the systems. Despite her initial training and clearance for it, her superiors had often deigned to use her non-intellectual talents rather than her broader skillset. Now she was regretting that, albeit for a different reason than normal. Her gaze scrutinized the thin outlines of the allied freighters as they were surgically taken apart. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. She didn't have a wealth of experience to draw from. The one time she had been taken along to a series of wargames with the Empire, all she had seen of the gathered fleets was a select few, luxurious rooms of her then commander. She had heard the rumours, knew the Empire was inventive, but even so she couldn't imagine what they might be pulling. A bomb seemed to be the most likely answer, tucked away and attached to the freighter's hull. She'd even ask Liverak, the veteran Intel officer, to run a scan for it, but he'd come up empty.

As the minutes ticked by she felt beads of sweat form on her brow and her sight waver. Keeping her concentration up was growing more difficult by the moment the ships fragmented further, making the observation even more difficult, and—

"Breathe in, Lieutenant," came Grevorich's calming voice. "Close your eyes for a few seconds, steady your breathing, wipe the sweat off your forehead and look again. Nobody's asking for miracles here. Just do what you can."

She nearly jumped when she felt his hands on her shoulders. Then she nodded and did as he suggested, willing herself to calm down. It helped. A little. Still, she felt reinforced and brought her focus back to the display.

"Boost your gel cushions to forty percent," came Dreamer's voice after a prolonged period of silence.

They were closer to the planet now, only a handful of minutes out. Cindy hesitated briefly, not in fear of the pain the order would bring, but due to the tension in the supersoldier's voice. He was preparing himself for something. She eyed the medical displays again, hoping to find a hint, and found it instantly when she saw the gel cushions of her team members inflate. Including those of the pilot. She followed suit instantly and a moment later a bright flash illuminated the HUD of the pilot as the damaged freighter beside them exploded in a fireball, blasting lethal chunks of debris in every direction. With their protective cover gone, the need for stealth grew secondary. Speed would be the determining factor now as the defence grid went online and began targeting the loose debris. They would be careful, only firing with pinpoint accuracy to avoid scattering the debris too far or hitting the life boats that lay far behind the totalled convoy. Which gave Genesis a chance to infiltrate.

Cindy felt herself being pressed into the wall as the landing craft began to accelerate at a breakneck pace, even through the punishing gel cushions. She tried to focus on the soldiers around her, who were finally beginning to show a sign of humanity as their vitals shot upwards by a fair margin, but failed. All she could do was gaze at the rapidly growing planet as the pilot raced towards a network of defences and a hot drop zone.

"Sir!" she screamed, seeing dozens of new signatures pop into existence. She wasn't sure what she was seeing, as they seemed to dart in and out of the receivable spectrum, but there was something out there. And it wasn't just loose debris with leftover power.

"Enlarge!" Grevorich shouted, rushing over to her display. "What are we looking at?"

"Inconsistent energy signatures, unlikely to be ship parts."

"Not part of the freighters?"

"No, sir!"

Grevorich was silent for a few seconds as he gazed at the display. Nayasi tried to be helpful and gave the computer a command to outline and track the foreign signals. It began to whir as it struggled to comply, but it had results. A heartbeat after a signal was received, it would be highlighted with a bright, red colour, until it would disappear again as the sensors lost track of it. The rapid changes gave the display an eerie cloud of angry fireflies that haunted the vessels, which were utterly falling apart now. She turned around and found her commander pale as a sheet. Then he turned red and let out a string of curses in an old, Slavic language she could by no means place.

"Nayasi!" he bellowed. "Contact the planet! Tell them to ready for an invasion! I want every gun we have to be pointed at the sky! The Imperials are invading! Call every channel! Ignore friendly fire! Stop those ships!"

The young officer leapt to, but despite the alacrity with which the Novican command staff reacted, it was far too late...

Lasers and missiles sailed through the void of space and collided with the ship fragments raining down on them. Millions of tonnes of metals were evaporated or violently blasted back into space by the salvos, but the Imperials' worst fears didn't come to pass. The landing craft encountered only sporadic fire as only a scant few stations were crewed by capable officers, and only one of those was facing the incoming storm. Using nimble thrusters and swift engines, the Imperial assault made for the planet. Inhuman reflexes dodged incoming fire, while powerful reactors were activated and immediately redlined to provide the small vessels with shields that by far belied their size. Sticking close to the shards of debris, the Genesis Battalion advanced. Slow moving missiles were avoided by lightning reaction speed, routes were amended and on they went.

Cindy didn't dare to blink. All she could see was a seemingly never-ending barrage of incoming fire that lit up the sky and a speck of darkness that quickly grew into the fearsome silhouette of a Kaperna-class space station. She knew it wasn't possible, but she could still swear she saw the bristling arrays of turrets on it.

Then, in the span of an eyeblink and an eternity, they shot past them. It felt like it had happened in an instant, and simultaneously as if the approach had taken hours. In reality it had taken a minute and a half. The defenders had been preparing for a simple turkey shoot, their onboard computers easily capable of tracking the incoming chunks of debris. Now they were contending with incredibly agile assault craft and the Novican crews had been left scrambling to amend their targeting systems.

Now they were past, onwards to the planet and their final goal. The clustered assault force broken open, having an entire planet to land on. The switch from void to atmosphere felt like a giant smacking their vessel, and Cindy felt herself momentarily distracted from her spectating as she tried to push an enraged beehive out of her head. When she regained her focus, she saw dozens of channel alerts. The Novicans weren't even trying to scramble their broadcasts anymore. Then the gel cushions were pushed to seventy percent and she blackened out from the sudden pressure.

Dreamer watched the vitals of the Admiral spiral out of control, before settling into the steady orange of unconsciousness. He took it in the same way he was taking everything in. Calmly, while keeping a close watch over his squad. The Novicans were panicking, he noted. Their radio chatter wasn't secured, their reactions were incredibly slow and very disfigured and uncoordinated. He had felt a pang of concern when his sensors had picked up the order to prepare for an airborne drop, but that had faded away when the clear order was met with confusion and a non-existing command structure. Every commander was left scrambling for a sense of coherency that never came. One of his lenses peered to the top right of his HUD the moment the final, clear ping reached his ears. Their drop zone was close. He took over full command of the Admiral's drop pod, pumped up her gel cushions to max, and prepared himself for action. Surprise and confusion was on their side. He would not let it go to waste.

Now if only he could get rid of that flicker of... something that kept lurking within his chest. It forced his thoughts to flash back to his fallen brothers. The men he had ordered to their deaths. He willed it to go away, so he could focus fully on the mission at hand. He hoped Doctor Eisel would have a solution for this. He couldn't afford the distraction, much less the stirring they caused. His eyes took in his squadmates instead. Focus, he demanded of himself. Focus on duty. Complete the mission. Keep the squad alive.

There were no words spoken. No calls for good luck or wishes for survival or good hunt. The bays simply slid open and with a singular command, Genesis was unleashed upon the planet surface.

Operation Homerun was finished. Operation Wrecking Ball had begun.