Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 186

"Show us again," Admiral Belliad stated grimly. In the Hololith the skirmish played out once more, an imperial cruiser being ambushed by an unexpected force from the ion storm. Ferrac had already seen it and deconstructed the fight thoroughly, but the others were merely mortal men, they needed a moment to process their shock and denial. Space Marines were above such concerns but he understood enough of the frailties of mortal men to keep quiet for a moment.

In a circle flickering images of the Naval commanders looked out of frame, watching events repeat. This meeting was being conducted via Hololith, each captain transmitting from his own ship. The Wyvern had no grand strategium but a comms room near the bridge sufficed for the Battle-Captain's purposes. Ferrac waited with gritted teeth as they replayed the skirmish once more, their minds trying to understand how this had happened. None of them were war virgins, each a veteran naval commander of many years but the scale of the threat daunted them and left them stunned.

Finally his patience ran out and he snapped, "We've seen enough. We need to break orbit and confront them head-on!"

There was a scoff from a flickering Holo-image as a man sneered, "Leave the cover of orbital defences?! Madness."

That was Commander Blayim, leader of Myrmidon squadron. His Sword-frigates were nimble and aggressive, quite unlike their commander. Blayim struck Ferrac as a by-the-book officer, mired in regulation and procedure. Even his uniform was starched to a crisp, his medals polished and gold braids gleaming. Ferrac distrusted any man who looked so handsome, a soldier worth should be measured by his scars, but Blayim's face was unmarked. A rear-echelon officer who had inveigled his way to a command thanks to an influential family, if rumour was to be believed.

Ferrac faced Blayim and hissed, "Cowering in the rear will avail us not, we would be trapped against the gravity well and loose manoeuvrability."

Blayim scoffed, "To face a Battlebarge in open battle would be suicide, we must stand with the support of the orbital gun-platforms."

There was a snort from across the circle as a scarred old man retorted, "What guns?! We blew them all up in the invasion, all we have left is the dock and that's not enough."

Captain Anthor of the Jormungandr, a fierce pugilist and brawler of the void. Anthor was heavily scarred all over his face and hands and Ferrac could read a lifetime of war in those injuries. He liked this one, a brutal soul from a brutal ship, a perfect example of Imperial belligerence. He deserved to be an admiral, if not a Groupmaster of the Crusade, but his family name was too lowly to elevate him to those lofty circles.

There was a snort from Admiral Belliad as the man said, "We are getting ahead of ourselves, what is this ship, where did it come from? Why are they attacking now?"

Ferrac thought of their prisoner, still languishing in the brig, he could guess why they were coming but kept his mouth shut, this was a secret not for public discussion. Instead A thin-faced man replied, "Logic Engines have identified her as the Angel's Revenge, a Blood Talons' ship."

That was Governor Grenzel, a minor official from the Crusade appointed to oversee the subjugation of Lutum. In Ferrac's opinion the man was a clerk, content to sit in the orbital dock for the rest of his life. He was of no consequence, but his dock's strike craft would be decisive in the coming engagement.

Belliad frowned as he mused, "Blood Talons are of the Sanguinius bloodline. They were lost in the Noctis Aeterna, their entire fleet vanished without a trace. Torchbearers were dispatched to find their starfaring Chapter-barque, but no sign of it was ever uncovered. It seems we have answered the mystery of their loss."

"Nobody cares where they came from," Ferrac growled, "The only question is how we kill them."

A nervous looking man replied, "That could prove troubling, we got close-range scans of the Battlebarge as we withdrew, it is fully operational and armed."

That was Hornan, commander of the Carmilla. His ship was the one that had been ambushed in the ion storm, now burning hard to reach orbit. In open space the battle would have begun already but orbital insertions were a complex affair, a ship could not simply point her prow at a world and blaze towards it. Reaching orbit demanded a shifting series of course corrections and braking burns, else the incoming fleet would slingshot around the gravity well and be catapulted into the void. A fact of void-faring that few ground-pounders ever considered and one that had bought the defenders a few hours to prepare.

Belliad frowned as he said, "I mourn the loss of Captain Yarret but you did well to fight your way out of the ambush."

There was a brief delay in the reply, Hornan yet a light-second away, but after the signal went there and back he said, "We prevailed with the God-Emperor's blessing."

Belliad stated, "Still your actions deserve recognition, I am brevetting you to the rank of Captain, pending Admiralty approval for full-promotion."

Hornan swelled with pride at the words but Ferrac snapped, "Curse protocol and rank, we are about to engage in battle. Enough idle talking, let's take this monster head-on and break her!"

Blayim snorted, "Face a Battlebarge in a straight fight?!"

Anthor however snapped, "Astartes vessels are configured for planetary assault not open void-war, we can take her."

Ferrac grinned in approval but Belliad countered, "Perhaps, but her armour is thick and her shields triple-reinforced. Those bombardment cannons will make a mess of anything she targets; it will take a combined assault to break this foe."

Ferrac urged, "Get me close enough for a boarding action and the Amber Vipers will gut her from the inside out!"

Belliad sneered, "You have two squads, two! Not nearly enough, no, ranked gunnery will win the day. The Imperial Navy can handle this."

Blayim interjected, "There is also the matter of the civilian shipping. They are panicking and distressed, likely to do something stupid if the battle drifts their way."

"The Wyvern will cover the civilians," Belliad stated, "We shall concentrate on stopping the hostile fleet."

"What?!" Ferrac snarled in dismay, "You want me to babysit mewling civilians, Frak that!"

Belliad glared irately, "You are not in command of this taskforce, I am. Groupmaster Forrester appointed me to command, you were a last-minute add on. I give the orders here."

"You can't handle the Revenge without me," Ferrac growled.

Belliad however retorted, "Does your ship have lances, torpedoes or Bombardment cannons? No, I thought not. A battlebarge's armour will shrug off your guns with ease. I need the Carmilla and the Jormungandr, I don't need you."

Ferrac was offended by the dismissal; Belliad was a smug and superior soul, from an old Terran family of great wealth and privilege. He had the air of one born to rule, who was so used to getting his way that he could not conceive of being defeated. Ferrac didn't rate him as a commander, though his service record was filled with blood-soaked victories. Sadly Imperial protocol was clear; the Navy had a separate chain of command and would only take orders from Astartes under the most desperate circumstances. The pride of the Imperial Navy was not to be dismissed so easily.

"You do not give orders to the Astartes," Ferrac growled.

Belliad replied icily, "The Captain who sets out merely to fight the enemy has already lost. I thought the vaunted Space Marines understood the importance of set objectives. We did not come here simply to plant the Imperial flag; our orders are to harvest the wealth of Lutum. The Crusade needs these supplies, getting those cargo-ships and mass-conveyors back to Primus fleet is your mission. The Imperial Navy will claim the glory of this kill."

Unfortunately that made a lot of sense, though Ferrac hated to admit it. He spat through clenched teeth, "I will cover the wretches, for now. But you will need me before the end."

Belliad ignored that as he said, "We will allow the Revenge to close within strike craft range of the orbital dock, we will need extra fighter cover and bomber strikes. Then the Veritas, Carmilla, Jormungandr and Myrmidon squadron will converge upon the Revenge. United we will pick her apart. The fight will be fierce but like the Mastiff pack harrowing an Ursal we will take her down with coordinated strikes and hit and run attacks. Make ready, we engage within the hour."

Voices chorused agreement, Hornan two seconds later than the others. Ferrac gritted his teeth as the Holo-images vanished, leaving him alone. He turned and stomped from the room, heading for the bridge. He stormed past chattels without a glance, uncaring for their lot in life. He soon passed through the hatch and entered a wide chambered space, filled with chattels and servitors labouring at consoles. He spied Shrios and Inquisitor Markof standing on the command Dais and stepped up, shouldering the Apothecary aside.

"Didn't go well, I take it," Shrios guessed.

Ferrac snarled, "Bloody fools side-lined us. They want to take this prize for themselves."

Shrios sighed, "Our reputation strikes again, they wouldn't have done this to the Ultramarines."

"The Imperial Navy has a low opinion of Astartes in general," Markof muttered in response, "We should leave them to it and depart at once."

Ferrac turned on the man and spat, "What?! You would have us abandon the fight and flee?!"

Markof didn't look intimidated by the Transhuman giant shouting at him and replied, "You know our true mission and the value placed upon it. The Navy, the cargo ships, the planet: all are expendable. Returning our captive to the Crusade is all that matters. This battle is an unnecessary distraction."

Ferrac snarled, "I've had enough of people telling me what my mission is. I know what I need to do, I know what's at stake and I know they won't let us go so easily. Not with her on board."

Shrios commented, "You think those ships are coming for their Emperess?"

"You don't?" Ferrac scoffed, "If they see one ship running, while all others stand, they will know she's onboard and send everything after us. We can't outfight that force on our own, and we can't outrun them. We have no choice but to win."

Markof looked like he had swallowed a lemon as he retorted, "I defer to your experience in military matters, but remember if we fail your Chapter dies. Should the battle go ill we must break free and run, no matter the cost."

Ferrac didn't reply as he turned to the Hololith and saw the situation developing within. The Imperial fleet was an arrowhead of icons, drifting high over the curvature of the planet. The civilian vessels were a flurry of drifting dots below, milling aimlessly in confusion and disarray. Further out the hostile force approached on an orbital insertion heading, the massive Battlebarge lording over her escorts like a dowager queen over a court. Ahead of them raced the Carmilla, the light cruiser had inverted her length and was sailing backwards, drives flaring as she decelerated to slot into formation alongside her sisters.

Ferrac watched in silence as the minutes crawled by, distances shrinking as the time counted down. It took a long time for the range to close but it felt like moments. Finally the Carmilla came into position, coasting into position off the Veritas' starboard flank. With the fleet complete Admiral Belliad signalled his forces to advance and confront the enemy. Fighter wings spilt from the orbital dock, joined by Furies launched from the Carmilla. Myrmidon squadron took up a dorsal position over the fleet as the Flagship advanced, with Jormungandr coasting off the port flank.

It grated Ferrac's nerves that the Wyvern wasn't among them, left behind to guard the civilians. He wanted to give the order to advance and engage but the Admiral's will had been made clear. Space Marine or not, he knew no plan of battle could prevail if each part did not play its role. Yet war was ever a fluid situation, liable to change and a bold fighter could make his presence felt, should an opportunity present itself. The Amber Vipers had worked hard to build up the Wyvern's fighting capacity; they had doubled her shields, enhanced her manoeuvrability and added significantly to her guns, giving her a redoubtable punch for a ship of her displacement. Yes, give him a chance and he would show this smug Admiral what the Amber Vipers could do.

From the outer dark came the Revenge, followed by the Echidna and Scorpio squadron, their demeanours belligerent and their weapons loaded. The Imperials had the numerical advantage but that Battlebarge was a potent menace. Ferrac knew the power of an Astartes capital ship all too well. Emperor forfend any of the Blood Talons were aboard, if they had been subverted then the Navy was in serious trouble.

Suddenly a cry went up from the chattels as tiny icons flashed into being. Shrios cried, "Torpedoes, on a wide spread!"

"They've fired too soon," Markof spluttered, "And too wide, they can't threaten a capital ship with that spread."

"They're not trying to," Ferrac corrected, "Those torpedoes are to draw off the fighter cover; they're trying to spread the Navy thin and open a hole to exploit."

Sure enough half the darting Fury interceptors peeled off and moved to shoot down the torpedoes. It was an elementary feint but one that had to be countered, the chances of a stray torpedo wandering among the civilian ships was too great to permit. Ferrac watched as the torpedoes were struck down one by one, but in doing so the Imperials were stripped of their cover and the hostile fleet advanced into the gap.

Waves of Deathbird fighters led the way, slamming into the diminished clouds of fighters protecting the cruisers. Swirling dogfights erupted around the crenellated bastions of the Imperial fleet, as brave pilots sought to deny the plasma strikes of the enemy. Blinking red and black motes signalled men dying in the void, their deaths reduced to numbers in a Hololith. Then the capital ships closed into range and the fight became a thunderstorm of exchanged broadsides.

The Veritas and Jormungandr let rip with waves of firepower, hammering the Revenge's shields, as the Carmilla stabbed with spears of lance energy. Ferrac clenched his fists as the Revenge unleashed waves of destruction in return, added to by the Echidna and the Veritas' shields buckled under the onslaught. Space became a furious blizzard of flashing explosions, yet it could not conceal the enemy force splitting. Breaking off from the fight Scorpio Squadron dove for low orbit, accompanied by three flights of Deathbirds. They were heading for the cargo ships, intending to wreak destruction among the helpless civilians and all that stood in their way was the Wyvern.

"Looks like the Admiral guessed right," Shrios muttered.

"Frak," Ferrac spat, "Make ready to engage! Helm, steer us into their path. Cycle shields and run out the guns. Torvus and Anaxar squads get into the Thunderhawks, we'll board an enemy if we get half a chance. And signal Reddam and Arcaka, tell them to stop those Deathbirds by any means necessary!"