Disclaimer: I do not own Warhammer 40k or Code Geass. I also don't own Homeworld or the reference to said games I snuck into this chapter.

A/N: Well, hopefully moving forward, I'll update faster than once a year. The new Code Geass movie did give me a kick in the pants to finish this story.

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Passata-soto

Hangar Bay C
Black Knights Dreadnought Paris

The atmosphere of the Paris' hangar deck was tense with barely-contained energy. Pilots alternated between sleeping attached to their Excaliburs or in the corridors just outside the hangar bay, meals consisted of nutrient paste, and attack craft were kept in launch position with weapons ready and engines hot. When the klaxons sounded, the tension snapped and the entire hangar deck exploded into action. The alert Excaliburs were flung into space as soon as the pilots were ready: assembling into squadrons and receiving mission orders could be done when in space.

The first wave had not even left the hangar when the next wave began taxiing into launch position. Barely-controlled chaos reigned: hangar crew ran in every direction, carrying marshaling wands to guide the Excaliburs or pushing carts laden with FLEIJA missiles, as the standby pilots rushed to their craft. Somehow, all the moving personnel and machines managed to avoid crashing into one another, though the operation came heart-stoppingly close to disaster on several occasions.

It took the Paris' hangar crews exactly eighty-two seconds to launch all one hundred and forty-four of the dreadnought's Excaliburs. Though they would never know it, they had shattered the previous record by nearly an entire second.

Black Knights Attack Craft Callsign: Loki Leader
Vicinity of Black Knights Dreadnought Coimbra

Major Matias Ribeiro—callsign Loki Leader—took a deep breath as his Excalibur slid into the launch tube, the sliver of hangar light vanishing as armored shutters closed behind him. The gravitric catapult silently latched onto the craft, giving its pilot the distinct sensation of being pulled in a dozen directions at once, as a faint hiss accompanied the tube depressurizing. The armored shutters noiselessly slid open, and Matias exhaled as the running lights pulsed red.

Three.

The lights pulsed yellow.

Two.

The lights pulsed green.

One.

The Major's teeth chattered and his organs felt as though they were flattening against his spine as his Excalibur was catapulted forward. His head leaned back out of reflex, pressing against the back of his Knightmare helmet, as his craft hurtled down the tube. He slammed his throttle open as soon as he was clear, diving steeply away to clear the catapult for the next Excalibur. A mental twitch bought the squad uplink display to the front and center. Lifesign readouts stuttered for a moment as the owners' Excaliburs slid into launch position then became crisp and clear again as they cleared the mothership's hull.

"Attention attention all Loki pilots, form up and accelerate to intercept velocity. Torpedoes incoming, weapons free!"

There was little time to think and no time at all to verify: Matias simply had to trust his targeting computer as he fired into seemingly-empty space, and the rest of Loki Squadron followed suit scant moments later. Though each was several times larger than an Excalibur, the plasma torpedoes' incredible speed and small head-on profiles made shooting even one down a daunting task. The pilots had mere fractions of a second when the missiles slowed for final course adjustments before they streaked past. The Major breathed a sigh of relief as several torpedoes were reduced to steadily-expanding clouds of dust and plasma; several others, damaged but not destroyed, veered wildly off-course as hadron bolts shredded delicate electronics and guidance systems.

"We've got leaks!"

"Leave them!" Matias barked, "Nothing we can do about it now!"

Hopefully, Loki Squadron had blunted the first wave enough that the Coimbra's point-defense batteries could clean up. A quick glance at the sensor readouts confirmed Matias' fears: smaller plasma trails hiding in the wake of the torpedoes' emissions, no doubt hoping to use the confusion to slip past.

"Enemy bombers incoming! Loki Squadron, engage!"

The sensor masking worked both ways, and the very same plasma trails that the Chaos bombers hoped would conceal them from Black Knights Excaliburs also prevented them from spotting Loki Squadron until too late. Matias inverted his craft and dove sharply towards the formation of Doomfires, sparing a glance only to ensure he didn't collide with Lokis Eleven, Three, and Eight.

"Loki Leader, guns!"

A hail of hadron bolts perforated one of the Chaos bombers, breaching its reactor shielding and sending it spinning away in the brief seconds before containment failed entirely. The sudden birth of a short-lived star spurred the enemy gunners into action, and lasbolts peppered Matias' hadron fields as he pulled away.

"Loki Three, guns!"

"Loki Eight, guns!"

Loki Three's forward fields glowed crimson as she screamed through the enemy formation, only avoiding collision by mere centimeters. A Doomfire's void shields flickered and died, and the bomber belched flame as it gradually lagged behind the others. Loki Three simply yawed her Excalibur around one hundred and eighty degrees and unloaded into the crippled bomber's vulnerable belly. Its payload of armor-piercing missiles, already armed in preparation for an attack run on the Coimbra, detonated and sent chunks of Doomfire smashing into neighboring bombers. The resulting damage was minimal, but the momentary distraction allowed Loki Three to swoop in and shred another two bombers before the enemy gunners could recover.

"Enemy bombers in firing range!"

Lokis Four and Seven sped ahead of the formation, letting their inertia carry them forward as they pitched their Excaliburs around to bring their weapons to bear. The Doomfires, having decelerated in preparation for their attack run, stood little chance as a hail of hadron bolts and FLEIJA missiles tore through their formation.

Black Knights Frigate Valorous
Two Hours Later

"Incoming! All hands brace for impact!"

Captain Judite Machado gripped the central console as a volley of lances and torpedoes screamed past the Valorous' hull. She momentarily glanced up at the forward viewscreen to watch her ship weave between dozens of capital-class plasma torpedoes, each a respectable fraction of the frigate's size. Point-defense chainguns unloaded a steady stream of cherry-red bolts into the missiles, destroying several and sending others veering wildly off-course.

"Impact starboard bow!," the lights flickered as a lance slammed into the frigate's rapidly-failing hadron fields, "Field density twenty-three percent!"

At such low densities, some of the destructive energies inevitably bled through, and Judite's fears were confirmed as damage reports began flying across the Valorous' internal channels.

"We can't take another hit like that!" a nearby bridge officer unnecessarily announced.

"Hadron cannons recharged and ready to fire!"

"FLEIJA tubes one through four reloaded and ready to fire!"

The tactical map was a confusing jumble of red and blue triangles as all manner of escorts and attack craft melded into a chaotic blob of metal and weapons fire. Captain Machado's well-trained eyes immediately picked out the Valorous' objective: a Devastation-class cruiser that was, judging from the massive amount of signals traffic flowing in both directions, coordinating all of the local enemy attack craft squadrons. The cruiser had already taken a few hits, but it was still launching and recovering attack craft unimpeded. Some fancy jumping by the Basilia had drawn the cruiser's attention and, more importantly, the majority of its escorts away.

"Helm, hard to port sixty degrees, elevation twenty-three degrees, flank speed!"

The Valorous' engines cut out, allowing the frigate to maintain its current course as its hull swung around in space. The ship's inertial dampeners were pushed to the limit as its engines reignited, sending the Valorous screaming towards the now-vulnerable cruiser.

"Incoming enemy bombers!"

At such close range, the Valorous' point-defense weaponry had no chance of intercepting every missile, and the bridge shook as a volley of armor-piercing missiles slammed into the frigate's near-depleted hadron fields. The swirling antimatter still had sufficient density to turn the first few missiles into scrap, but the majority punched through relatively intact and exploded against the Valorous' armor. The Swiftdeath escorts swooped in, methodically destroying the overwhelmed point-defenses to open the way for another volley.

"Number two drive not responding!"

"This is Bruja Leader to Valorous actual, engaging!"

Judite flipped over to the squad downlink as eight lifesigns pulsed to life, joining those representing the Valorous' seven surviving Excalibur pilots.

"Second wave of missiles inbound! All hands brace for impact!"

Though Captain Machado gripped the console with all of her Knightmare-enhanced strength, she was still nearly thrown off her feet as multiple impacts rocked the ship. Interior bulkheads were beginning to buckle under the strain, and at least one missile had punched through the armor and detonated inside the hull. A nearby bank of consoles exploded, peppering the operators with shrapnel.

"Internal explosion, starboard bow! Fires on decks one, three, and four!"

"Secondary hadron field emitters unresponsive!"

Judite watched on what remained of the forward viewscreen as the Excaliburs annihilated what remained of the enemy bombers before the Swiftdeath escorts could react. The Captain winced as a lifesign disappeared from the squad downlink, followed by another mere seconds later. The bridge shook again, debris raining down from the ceiling, as a nearby Infidel-class raider bought its guns to bear. The forward viewscreen ceased functioning entirely, several panels actually exploding as the remaining sections either lost power or displayed only static.

"All nonessential personnel, abandon ship!"

The Valorous' surviving drives were pushed to the very limit, and the tiny frigate screamed past the enemy escort as the larger ship moved to cut it off. Judite paid the evacuation alarms blaring in the background no mind, dialing up her aural filters as the helmsman calmly counted down the range. The bridge shook as the enemy cruiser's defenses found their mark as sparks rained down on the remaining bridge crew. The central display flickered, the image growing increasingly grainy and distorted each time it came back, before finally sputtering and dying.

"Optimal firing range in t-minus twenty..."

A series of explosions rocked the entire ship, sending several bridge crew flying from their seats as the Valorous' inertial dampeners momentarily failed. Judite was thrown to the deck and slid several meters, stopping only when she collided with a bank of now-inoperable consoles.

"Fires on all decks! Numerous casualties!"

"Fire everything now! We're not going to get another chance at this!"

Bridge
Chaos Cruiser Foolsbane

Externally, Captain Halamek passively watched as the suicidal enemy frigate screamed towards his ship. The towering man stood at the front of the bridge, hands folded behind his back, as the thralls' reports grew increasingly panicked. The gunners had already swapped to close-in weaponry: laser cannons carved into the frigate's vulnerable hull as volley after volley of missiles blew holes in its armor. Internally, his heart thumped in his throat and the ringing in his ears nearly drowned out the din of the bridge around him. Yet, he knew that showing even the smallest hint of weakness would only invite his lieutenants to replace him.

"Enemy lance hit, starboard amidships! Void shields at thirty percent!"

Two months ago, Halamek would have scoffed at the thought of such a tiny ship—barely as long as an Imperial frigate was wide and maybe a thousandth of the mass if even that—mounting a lance battery. After seeing them in action, he wasn't sure if "lance battery" adequately described the main guns of a Black Knights frigate. His train of thought was interrupted as an explosion rocked the ship.

"Direct hit starboard amidships!"

"Fire on the hangar decks! Starboard launch bays compromised!"

"Enemy torpedoes incoming!"

"Evasive action!," Halamek somehow kept his voice from wavering as he whirled around, "Get the fires under control!"

At such close range, most of the Foolsbane's guns literally could not depress far enough to target the fast-moving missiles. The giant of a man was thrown off his feet as one of the warheads slipped past the paltry defenses. Thralls were tossed about, skulls dashing against consoles and bones shattering against deck plating. The survivors stepped over the dead and dying, shutting out the shrieks of agony as they filled the newly-vacated stations.

"Internal explosion! Starboard launch bays destroyed!"

Hull-mounted rotary autocannons—the last resort of all last resorts—filled the space around the Foolsbane with a truly prodigious amount of lead, and Captain Halamek allowed himself a sigh of relief as two of the incoming torpedoes vanished in puffs of smoke and debris. The fourth and final warhead followed seconds later, but not before it was primed for detonation. The green pinprick of light winked out of existence, the dreaded pink sphere forming for several heartbeats before prematurely collapsing on itself.

"Negative impact! Receiving reports of minor damage from the explosion, but negative impact!"

"Enemy frigate is not breaking off!"

Time flowed agonizingly slowly for Halamek as he watched the Black Knights frigate draw closer, and he could practically count the seconds with his own deafening heartbeat. The deck plates vibrated beneath his armored boots as the Foolsbane's maneuvering thrusters were pushed to their very limits swinging the cruiser's stern around. Turrets swung around in a desperate attempt to draw a bead on the incoming frigate.

With only meters left to spare, the warship-turned-unguided-missile sailed over the Foolsbane's bridge. Several thralls died from sheer fright, and Halamek allowed his shoulders to imperceptibly slump in well-hidden relief.

Black Knights Attack Craft Callsign: Firebolt Three
Two Hours Later

"Conta-," Firebolt Leader never finished her warning, her line suddenly dissolving into static as her lifesign went dark.

The sudden Warp rift blinded Firebolt squadron's close-range sensors for a crucial second and gave the enemy time to orient itself unmolested. By the time Captain Armando Mayra—callsign Firebolt Three—regained his bearings, another two lifesigns had gone dark and enemy attack craft were swarming in. His hadron fields glowed cherry-red as they struggled to dissipate dozens of lasbolts, the energy leaking through chipping away his Excalibur's armor millimeter by millimeter. Armando's eyes widened as his craft's systems matched the enemy ships to known patterns. A Dominator-class cruiser, four Defiants, three Dauntlesses, and at least a dozen smaller craft.

"Energy buildup from the cruiser! All Firebolt units, evasive maneuvers!"

The shells fired by a Nova Cannon traveled at a respectable portion of the speed of light. At such close range, the survivors of Firebolt Squadron would have less than a second to scramble out of the weapon's firing arc before it actually fired. Firebolt Two didn't even have time to scream before his craft was incinerated by the passing shell.

"All Firebolt units," Armando quickly took control, "Form up! They're aiming for the dreadnought line!"

The Captain tuned out the acknowledgments, cutting his engines off and twisting his craft around to face the enemy fleet. A lengthy stream of hadron bolts reduced a Fury into twisted scrap, and Armando slammed his throttle fully open to squeeze through the resulting gap. The surviving Firebolt pilots followed close behind, though the opposing squadron recovered surprisingly quickly. Firebolt Ten collided with one of the Chaos interceptors, the resulting explosion consuming both craft, as Firebolt Twelve disintegrated under a withering barrage of lascannon bolts and armor-piercing missiles.

"Firebolt Squadron, form up and prepare for attack ru-," Captain Mayra was abruptly cut off by a lascannon bolt punching through his Excalibur's already-taxed hadron fields and atomizing his torso.

Black Knights Attack Craft Callsign: Oracle Leader
Thirty Minutes Later

Major Sonja Filipov—callsign Oracle Leader—and the thirty-five other pilots flying alongside her could only watch Firebolt Squadron's demise on long-range sensors. Sonja shoved any thoughts of her fallen comrades to the back of her mind, instead of focusing on the picture in front of her. Nearly one hundred Chaos interceptors had descended upon Firebolt Squadron in what Major Filipov could only call a total breakdown in operational discipline. The sheer volume of firepower had quickly torn apart the Excaliburs, and the defenders had expended far more fuel and ammunition than advisable in their rush to claim the glory for themselves. The end result was nearly the entirety of the Chaos battle group's fighter screen on the literal opposite edge of their defense perimeter from the incoming Black Knights attack wave, and their momentum only carried them further away.

"This is Oracle Leader to Skopje Fire Control, requesting fire support on the Dominator, danger close."

"Roger, Oracle Leader. Beams, firing for target, danger close."

There was a momentary pause as Sonja's Excalibur and Knightmare exchanged a staggering amount of information with the Skopje's fire control: sensor readouts, positional data, even realtime visual feeds. The Skopje's fire control computers needed mere seconds to corroborate the inputs, perform the dizzyingly-complex calculations, and transmit the results to the appropriate people. A single hadron beam, far too small to be from the Skopje's own main batteries, came within several hundred meters of Oracle Squadron's tightening formation and struck the Dominator's void shields. The arcane energies crackled and glowed brightly, and the barrier ultimately held.

"Oracle Leader to Skopje Fire Control, confirm impact.

"Roger, Oracle Leader. Confirm impact. Firing for effect."

With so many friendlies in the area, Battle Group Skopje could hardly loose the massive all-consuming hadron volleys that Abaddon's ship crews had grown to dread so much. The lower-power, more precise beams still tore through the charging Chaos ships. The dreadnought's first volley perforated one of the escorting Dauntlesses, ripping the light cruiser to shreds without so much as slowing down until it slammed into the Dominator's flank. The Skopje's support ships poured on the fire, and the Chaos ships' void shields began to flicker out one by one.

"Dominator void shields are down! Oracle Squadron, begin attack run!"

An enormous explosion nearly blinded Sonja in the fractions of a second before her Knightmare automatically tinted her visual feed, and microscopic bits of debris peppered her Excalibur's hadron fields. One of the Defiants' captains retained enough presence of mind to order their remaining craft hurriedly rearmed for interception duties and scrambled when a hadron beam tore through the light cruiser's starboard flank. Attack craft already hoisted into launch tubes became little more than collections of fuel and munitions to be detonated. With fuel lines still open and anti-capital ship munitions left strewn about in the rush to rearm, the secondary explosions tore through the ship's flight decks.

"Erinye Squadron, breaking off!"

Major Filipov paid the other squadron little mind as they rapidly peeled off, her teeth chattering and an uncomfortable pressure building up in the base of her skull as her Excalibur passed through what remained of the Dominator's void shields. She pulled out of her dive at the last second, the belly of her craft coming within meters of scraping the cruiser's hull. The metal expanse before her rapidly fell away, and the looming profile of a Nova Cannon slowly filled the Major's view.

"Oracle Squadron, pick your targets and weapons free!"

Crosshairs rapidly appeared and shifted all across Sonja's vision as the members of Oracle Squadron picked their targets in the scant seconds before they would overshoot entirely. Sensor domes, fire control towers, cooling radiators on the Nova Cannon itself, anything that looked even vaguely important.

As FLEIJA warheads streaked towards their targets, Sonja raised her nose to vertical and then slightly beyond. Spots danced in the edges of her vision as all her blood threatened to rush to her head. Her stomach lurched as her Excalibur came to a halt for mere fractions of a second as she rocketed away from the Dominator's surface. Explosions blossomed across the cruiser's surface as the eleven other Oracle Squadron pilots formed up beside her.

The Ring, Orbit of Luna
Seven Hours Later

Private Brontes Zoric was one of the countless millions huddled in the network of trenches crisscrossing the dark volcanic rock. When the alert sounded, there was no time to organize: he simply grabbed his gear and found the closest open spot in the nearest trench. The Guardsman thus found himself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a Guardsman from a unit he couldn't recognize to the left and a Tau Fire Warrior to the right. Anti-aircraft weaponry was dug in between the trenches, and the entire fortification lay in the shadow of a massive lance battery.

Brontes had nothing to say to the Guardsman, and the Tau didn't speak Low Gothic, so all he had to keep him company was the pounding of his heart and the hissing of his rebreather. The Ring used technology long since lost to maintain an atmosphere close to its surface, but a void suit was still needed for anything more than a quick dash between pressurized sections.

"Kill the lights!"

The Ring was going dark for the first time since the Horus Heresy, though Private Zoric had no way of knowing he was witnessing a historic event. As though a switch were flipped, the Ring's external lights—from the massive navigation aids meant to help warships navigate out of Luna's orbit to the tiny running lights beneath Brontes' feet—cut out. The freestanding floodlights, the torches attached to lasgun barrels, and everything in between followed suit over the next few seconds.

"First wave incoming!"

Brontes averted his eyes as a constellation of pale purple stars winked into existence high above the Ring, having seen the weapons enough to know what would come next. The blinding flash of pink that followed was bright enough to trigger his visor to polarize even as he stared down at the trench's rock floor. Auger scans confirmed that the first enemy attack wave consisted of light warships and attack craft, and they predictably stood little chance against an aerial minefield capable of annihilating capital ships. A second, slightly dimmer, flash followed several seconds later as the survivors encountered the secondary minefield.

"Confirmation of enemy attack craft entering the atmosphere!"

The ground beneath Private Zoric's feet shook as the trio of Hydra flak tanks dug in behind him rumbled to life. Ancient but well-maintained servos whirred as they bought quad autocannons to bear. Brontes and his Guardsman neighbor reflexively braced: lasguns held in the crooks of their arms, gazes averted, and hands clamped over their ears. The Fire Warrior seemed to catch on and assumed a similar position.

Seconds passed, and nothing happened.

The three soldiers shared a brief, confused glance before the vox crackled to life.

"All units, hold fire! Repeat: all units, hold fire! We have confirmation that the enemy has commenced counter-battery operations!"

A nearby trench received the warning moments too late. The anti-aircraft barrage lasted less than a second before the guns were silenced by precision lance strike. Hundreds only had time enough to yelp in surprise before they were atomized, sparing Brontes and his neighbors from listening to dying screams over the vox. The skies above briefly lit up as Chaos warships continued their bombardment, but iron fire discipline ensured all they ultimately accomplished was highlighting their positions to the Ring's own hardened defensive batteries.

Black Knights Dreadnought Brussels
Twenty Minutes Later

"Confirmed, two Defiant-class light cruisers have suffered catastrophic damage! Believed unable to launch or recover attack craft!"

According to the central tactical display, the aforementioned ships were still capable of maneuvering, but with only a pair of forward-facing lances, they were effectively out of the fight. A third had suffered minor hits, but its flight deck was reportedly still functioning in a diminished capacity. A minor ripple of celebration died as quickly as it was born when reports streamed in that the Dominator at the formation's center had barely slowed down at all despite the amount of damage it had sustained between Battle Group Skopje's bombardment and an Excalibur attack run. At the very least, the attackers had succeeded in knocking out the Nova Cannon that had depleted an alarming amount of the Coimba's hadron fields.

"Viking Squadron reports beginning attack run!"

The enemy had begun recovering from Oracle and Erinye Squadrons' sudden attack, the Chaos battle group's fighter screen slowly shifting back into position and receiving a steady trickle of reinforcements from the remaining operational flight decks. The Brussels' Excalibur squadrons had not make it through completely untouched, and numerous pairs of eyes were glued to one of the side displays as it showed a tight group of triangles representing the ten surviving pilots of Viking Squadron as they dove towards the Dominator.

On the other end of the bridge, allied damage reports sporadically filtered in. The Dominator and its escorts had emerged from the Warp within the dreadnought line's engagement zone, almost certainly intending to use the shock to rapidly close in and overwhelm the Black Knights with squadrons of bombers and the Dominator's brutal broadsides. As Excalibur attack runs supplemented by heavy fire support slowly whittled down their numbers, some Chaos warships launched their bombers in desperation. The resulting piecemeal attacks were a far cry from the knockout punch the enemy had clearly hoped for.

"Enemy Dominator breaking up!"

The red triangle winked out of existence to muted cheers, and what little remained of the Chaos battle group's courage seemed to vanish with it. The surviving warships swung around in a great arc in a futile attempt to withdraw.

"Order all Excaliburs to expend whatever ordnance they still have to pick off the stragglers, then return for rearming."

Combat Information Center A
Black Knights Space Station Ikaruga

The central display had swapped to a projection of Luna's airspace, while the peripheral displays cycled between current and emergent flashpoints. The Chaos squadrons engaging Battle Group Lisbon were losing coordination, the enemy command ship having clearly sustained severe damage even though the defenders ultimately failed to destroy it. Neither side was yet willing to fully commit their capital ships, so the main body of both fleets sat at the edges of the engagement zone exchanging volleys. Their smaller target profiles and superior fire control systems allowed the Black Knights to seize the initiative, but FLEIJA stocks were running low across the entire fleet and battle damage was accumulating.

"That's enough," Lelouch suddenly ordered, "Draw Battle Group Lisbon back. Have all remaining Excaliburs outfitted for anti-capital ship combat."

The immortal's gaze flickered to a display of the Ring's airspace. The installation's main batteries had swiftly cleared out the first wave of Chaos warships, with the survivors hurriedly going into silent running mode in a desperate attempt to avoid further retaliation. They would discover in a few moments that the Ring's passive sensor array rivaled even the Ikaruga's. He was more concerned with the five hundred or so bombers and attack craft that had slipped beneath the Ring's outer anti-air grid. From their approach vector and velocity, they could only be headed for Port Luna itself.

"Put the following sectors on alert," Lelouch highlighted a broad swathe of trenches that separated the incoming bomber armada from Port Luna's vulnerable fuel and ammunition facilities, "Have them launch flares and engage at will."

Black Knights Dreadnought Coimbra
Orbit of Luna

With most of its firepower turned towards the fleet surrounding Luna, the Chaos fleet was caught flat-footed when Battle Group Lisbon jumped in behind them. Some enemy captains, fearing Abaddon's wrath more than the defenders' guns, pressed on ahead. The others turned around and launched a desperate attack to stall the rapidly-descending hammer. The escorts and attack craft charged ahead, melting into a chaotic blob of metal and weapons fire, as the capital ships fell into orderly formations to exchange salvos. The Black Knights had the advantage of surprise, but the enemy fleet pressed back with weight of numbers.

"Impact starboard bow! Field density forty-three percent!"

Captain Roldao Ferro never took his gaze off of the main holographic display. The Skopje and the Brussels subtly adjusted their positions to shield the Coimbra from further damage, all while the three dreadnoughts continued their bombardment. Captain Ferro watched with grim satisfaction as a dozen red triangles vanished off the tactical map; at such titanic distances, it was the only indication he had of the Coimbra's hadron beams carving up an enemy grand cruiser while a spread of FLEIJA warheads annihilated a dozen smaller warships.

"Recovery operation fifty percent complete," a nearby bridge officer reported, "Sleipnir wing launched."

The Coimbra's twenty drop shuttles fell into two V-formations, flying completely unescorted as their current mission would see them stay within the dreadnought's inner defense zone. Normally used to ferry equipment and personnel to and from their mothership, the Coimbra's Sleipnirs had been hurriedly repurposed for a somewhat different mission: disposable missile pods were attached to every available external hardpoint.

"Sleipnirs have reached released point. Deploying payload."

The Sleipnirs' payloads were deceptively simple: hundreds of electronic noisemakers mounted atop disposable solid-fuel rocket boosters. Individually, each would barely make a blip on the auger. Launched in the thousands, though, and their purpose became clear: the Coimbra's sensor suite could tell the difference, but as far as the Chaos ships knew, a dreadnought task force twice the size of Battle Group Lisbon had just joined the fray.

Black Knights Attack Craft Callsign: Loki Leader
Vicinity of Black Knights Dreadnought Coimbra

As the Coimbra rapidly grew larger, Major Ribeiro had time to begin the morbid task of tallying how many seats would be left empty at the debriefing.

"Loki Squadron, you are cleared for landing. Proceed to Hangar Bay B."

Not needing to wait for landing permission was not an encouraging sign. The remaining—Matias tried his utmost to not think the word "surviving"—Loki Squadron pilots fell into a double-file formation with Loki Leader at the tail. Glancing over his shoulder, the Major could see the next Excalibur squadron already decelerating for a landing approach. The darkness of space vanished moments later, replaced by the sterile metal walls of the Coimbra's docking bay.

The sensation of being thrown forward as invisible tethers latched onto his Excalibur was strangely calming, and Matias released the breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. He began detaching his Knightmare as his attack craft was gently lowered to the deck and guided off the runway. Matias noticed the distinctive flashes of incoming skimmer drives moments before the armored shutters slammed shut.

Black Knights Utility Vessel Pegasus
Orbit of Luna

The crew of the Pegasus remained strangely calm as they emerged from the Warp only to see the last of Battle Group Lisbon jump away. The noisemakers had already exhausted their fuel and simply drifted along their preset headings. The scenario was playing out exactly as Zero had predicted: believing that the Black Knights had finally split their forces, the Chaos fleet finally committed their capital ships. The crews of the Pegasus and of the dozens of utility vessels accompanying it could only watch on sensor as a ruby-red spear thrust deep into the defensive line around Luna.

"Contact!"

Of more immediate concern was the Chaos flotilla currently dropping out of the Warp, bringing enough firepower to knock out the illusory Black Knights detachment. The crew cabin of the Pegasus remained deathly silent as active augur pings bounced off the utility vessel's hull. The enemy fleet momentarily stood still, as their commanders digested the scene before them. As suddenly as it began, the lull ended with the Chaos fleet charging ahead at flank speed. A great metal cloud filled the void between the enemy fleet and the utility vessels as wave after wave of boarding craft was launched at the near-defenseless Black Knights.

The faster Chaos warships had entered visual range when the order finally came.

"Missile dump! Missile dump! Empty the bins!"

The deck plates vibrated beneath the crew's fleet as the innocuous-looking cargo containers attached to the Pegasus' spine slid open to reveal rack upon rack of FLEIJA warheads. With brief puffs of compressed air, they were blown clear from the utility vessel's hull. Their rocket motors ignited moments later, sending the deadly warheads streaking towards the rapidly-closing Chaos fleet as they scrambled to adjust course. The first wave had hardly disappeared from sight before the second wave left their launchers. A third wave followed. Then a fourth. A fifth. A sixth.

The Valkyrie-class vessels lacked the sophisticated fire control computers of Black Knights warships, and the light warheads were meant for deployment from Excaliburs. A great number missed and were fated to harmlessly self-destruct as they reached their preset range, and the ones that did hit would only scratch capital-grade void shields. Yet weight of numbers allowed the warheads to overwhelm point defenses and batter down the arcane barriers.

"We're empty! Jettisoning!"

Explosive bolts sheared off the tops of the attached cargo containers to reveal dozens of Excaliburs, docked leading-edge-to-leading-edge to use every bit of available space, clamped directly to the Pegasus' central spine. Gravitric tethers disengaged, and the attack craft noiselessly drifted away from their improvised mothership, rotating around in space before igniting their drives and screaming towards the disoriented Chaos fleet.

"Incoming!"

The enemy's fate was sealed as Battle Group Lisbon, freshly reinforced and rearmed, announced its emergence from the Warp with a withering barrage of hadron beams and FLEIJA missiles.