Fame Cimex Chapter 10

On the edge of the Angle's Redoubt stellar system there was movement, a convoy of warships sailing ever deeper into the gravity well, seeking the distant light of the sun. They were battered and scarred veterans, each one scored by wounds in their armour and their guns were blackened by repeated discharges. These were the ships of the Storm Heralds and they had just limped back to Imperial space, running merely a few weeks ahead of the Tyranid advance.

At the heart of the formation cruised the twin battlebarges, Thunderlord and Light of Terra, still proud and defiant despite all that had occurred, but that could not hide the fact that their magazines stood empty and their reactors were fatigued from the arduous journey. With them came seven Strike Cruisers, in various states of disrepair and exhaustion, their engines sputtering and their reactors trembling from the hard fighting they had seen. Surrounding the capital ships were over thirty escorts, many of which were in an even worse state of repair. This was the bulk of the Storm Herald's fleet and it represented almost the entirety of its fighting strength, save for a handful of ships stuck in refit.

As the fleet passed inwards it was observed by monitoring stations and listening posts that sent demands for clearance codes and passwords, not just once but over and over. Each time the response codes were checked, rechecked and queried with superiors, but everything was in proper order and the guardians of the system were obliged to begrudgingly authorise the Space Marines to pass.

The fleet pressed onwards and passed the fifth and outermost planet of the stellar system, a green gas giant that was surrounded by cloud-scoop harvesting stations. Even with the threat of the Tyranids looming the workers carried on, desperately extracting every last drop they could before the war swept over them. The fleet left them behind as it passed onwards, heading deeper and deeper into the star's gravity well, the fourth planet was currently orbiting on the far side of the system but the fleet's course took it into range of the third planet. This was a burning, volcanic world, barely habitable and only useful for the long chains of geothermal mineral plants that drew wealth from its violate core.

The fleet once more passed onwards, intent on its goal and brooking no delay. At long last they approached their goal, the second planet of the system which was the mighty Hive World itself, with its orbital docks and repair yards being a most welcome sight after so perilous a journey. Here at last the fleet slowed, coming to rest in high orbit as their drives settled down and wounded ships paused to rest their exhausted reactors.

The fleet began sending missives for docking permission along with requests for resupply and repair crews, but these were rebuffed, the docks citing prior demands from the Imperial Navy that took precedence. The Space Marines then sent outraged demands for provisions, citing the authority of the Adeptus Astartes, but these were regretfully declined pending Inquisitorial review. So the fleet and the docks sat there, staring at each other as messages spat back and forth.

As this was occurring Captain Toran was briskly marching along the spine of the Thunderlord, his pace just a hair below that of an outright run. He tried not to look hurried but his hearts were anxious and he furiously clung onto a data-slate in his hand, one that carried vital information. Toran proceeded along the ship's spine until he approached an observation dome, one that was currently giving a magnificent view of Angle's Redoubt and the shoals of orbital facilities that were standing in the Astartes' way.

Toran burst into the observation bay and found a meeting already underway, three beings standing in the starlight and discussing matters of great import. The first of them was Chapter Master Gorgall, looking leaner and paler than ever. The journey had worn heavily on the old warrior and now it looked like his armour was the only thing holding him up.

The second figure was Ninth Captain Phalros, his stern senatorial gaze hiding a current of anger. The third being was twice as large as anyone else and walked in a massive armoured chassis, fitted with an assault cannon and a massive power fist. It was Ajax and somehow, without anybody language at all, the Contemptor Dreadnought was managing to look absolutely furious.

Gorgall was speaking, his head tilted right back to peer upwards at the Dreadnought, as he said, "I assure you, Honourable Brother, that the situation is in hand. There is no need for you to get involved; I give you my word that I shall put a stop to the Emperor-Worship."

Ajax rumbled, "SEE THAT YOU DO OR I SHALL DO IT FOR YOU. I WILL NOT SUFFER THIS CHAPTER TO ENGAGE IN SUCH AN OBSCENITY, IT SPITS UPON EVERYTHING THE EMPEROR STOOD FOR."

Phalros spoke up saying, "Venerable brother, please be patient, this situation calls for cool heads, not rash tempers. None of us, not even the most misguided of brothers, wants to be known as a kin-slayer."

Ajax stared at them and growled, "DEAL WITH THIS SOON, MY PATIENCE GROWS THIN." Then he turned and stomped out of the dome, passing Toran without a word as he barged past. Toran watched the Contemptor disappear and swallowed before saying, "What was that?"

Gorgall answered, "The Honourable brother was expressing his concerns about the direction this Chapter is taking."

Phalros muttered, "An angry Dreadnought, that's the last thing this powder keg needs."

Toran blinked then remembered the data-slate in his hand and said, "My lord I have to make a report."

Gorgall held up a hand and said, "First things first, I need my new Master of the Arsenal to tell me how Third Company is shaping up."

Toran was put back and said, "They fare well, some initial choler was evident but the squads soon stopped butting heads once we put them into hard drills. Chaplain Wrethan is being his usual self; he's driving the initiates as hard as he did the Scout-Novices."

"He is one of Lessall's men so keep an eye on him," said Gorgall, "I want Third Company to be a beacon of secular excellence."

Toran frowned, for that sounded uncomfortably close to the suggestion Gorgall was using him as a political pawn. He changed the subject by saying, "My Lord, I have information about the issue with the orbital docks."

Phalros raised an eyebrow and said, "We have teams of protocol serfs and equerries working on this problem, how did you acquire more intelligence than all of them?"

Toran raised his data slate and said, "I have a high ranking contact within the Navy itself, he's discretely sent me a report on the state of affairs. This is no bureaucratic tangle or mislaid order; we are being deliberately obstructed by the Imperial Navy."

"They wouldn't dare!" spat Phalros.

Toran replied, "They would if the order came from Lord Admiral Dousmanis himself, the supreme commander of all naval assets in Battlefleet Karyl is here and he's determined to stand in our way."

Gorgall frowned, "Lord Admiral Dousmanis is no fool, he wouldn't be making more enemies with the Tyranids breathing down his neck… this stinks of politics. Someone has leveraged him into doing this."

Toran consulted his data-slate and said, "Ah, yes there was something about that, my contact highlighted a reference I didn't understand. Yes, yes here it is… there are two men backing Dousmanis' actions, a Cardinal Giovanni and a Lord Inquisitor Zerban."

Gorgall spat, "Of course… who else would it be? Those two have been nothing but trouble for decades. They see our proselytising as the perfect excuse to crush the autonomy of the Astartes. Zerban in particular is a fanatic, he won't be satisfied until the Storm Heralds are declared Excommunicate Traitoris."

This was entirely new information to Toran and he wondered what else he hadn't been told about the Chapter's relations with the wider Imperium. He said cautiously, "The Ecclesiarchy is a nuisance, yet they have no remit to stop us. But the Inquisition is another problem entirely, they can block us at every turn."

Phalros growled, "This is intolerable, the Tyranids are at the gates and the lords of the Imperium see it as an opportunity to play politics. Lessall is going to love this."

Gorgall said, "Perhaps it is time we see our rivals, bring up the Hololith."

From an alcove a withered Servitor droned "Compliance," as an image of near space coalesced above their heads. Toran looked into the image and consulted his data slate then said, "Magnify grid, 38-25-01." The servitor droned "Compliance" as the image zoomed in on a cluster of bright dots to reveal a formation of bulky warships, with thick prows and massive gun batteries.

Phalros snorted and said, "Look all around them, those gaggles of fleet tenders and resupply shuttles. They are fattening up the Navy's ships while our magazines sit empty and our reactors cry for the blessings of the Tech-Priests."

Gorgall asked, "Toran, did your contact send us a fleet manifest?"

Toran checked and said "Yes, Lord Admiral Dousmanis has raised his flag on that Battleship, that is the Hyperion, an Oberon class ship-killer. And see that Battlecruiser hanging over her starboard bow, that is the Agamemnon, a Mars Class carrier commanded by Rear-Admiral Dousmanis."

Gorgall raised an eyebrow and said, "Related?"

Toran answered, "Yes Rear-Admiral Dousmanis is Lord Admiral Dousmanis' nephew by blood."

Phalros snorted and said, "Imperial nepotism at its best."

Gorgall shook his head and said, "What else are we facing?"

Toran looked at the manifest and said, "They have three ships of the line, a Dictator class, the Aetos. A Dominator class, the Kilkis and a Lunar class, the Averof. There are two Dauntless class light cruisers, the Spetsai and the Cadmus along with three distinct formations of escort frigates, Proteus, Triton and Pandora Squadrons. And… oh now, this is an odd one, there is a Vengeance class Grandcruiser, the Hektor."

Phalros actually blinked at that last one and said, "A Grandcruiser, I didn't think any of those were still in service with Battlefleet Karyl. They must really be pulling out all the stops for this one."

Gorgall rubbed his chin and said, "A sizeable taskforce, more than our ships could handle in our currently depleted state. But if they think this is enough to stop the Tyranid Hive fleet, then they are delusional."

Phalros said grimly, "They underestimate the scale of the threat, surely the generals and the Lords Militant must see this is not the time for political infighting."

Gorgall shook his head and said, "Giovanni and Zerban will have filled their ears with slander about us, they excel at slithering behind closed doors and manipulating events from the shadows. As long as those two are involved, the Imperium will be fighting with one hand tied behind its back. By the time they realise that they need us, it will be too late."

Toran said, "Then call them out, make them meet you in a public forum where they will lose the cover of the shadows. Take the ground out from under them and force them to fight in an arena of your own choosing."

Gorgall was silent for a long moment then declared, "It seems we have no other choice, as a Chapter Master I can call a strategic conference of all the Lords Militant in the theatre, even a Cardinal and a Lord Inquisitor cannot block that. We three will shuttle over and confront them head-on, Emperor willing we can turn enough Lord Militants to our side to break their stranglehold."

Gorgall finished by saying, "Understand this, if we cannot make them see that we have to stand as one then all is lost, either the Imperium unites, here and now or it will fall."