Serrati Stellas Chapter 2
On the bridge of the Manifest Destiny true panic set in, officers and crewmen running ragged, trying desperately to find a flaw in their computations but the result was inescapable: they had blundered into a crude trap and the jaws were closing in. Amid the clamour the four Space Marines stood still and calm like carved statues, not a hint of concern upon their faces. Though they too felt the pressure of the situation they knew the crew needed to see them remain in control, so they stood stoic and aloof. Sergeant Toran was staring at the Hololith, creating and discarding plans in his mind with Transhuman speed, while the other three discussed the tactical situation with as much concern as they would the weather.
Furion was saying "We went too deep into the gravity well, no matter which way we manoeuvre the Kill Kroozers will overrun us before we can reach escape velocity."
Wrethan added, "If we rise to engage the Kroozers the escorts would be the ones fighting up the gravity well."
Novak looked for a reaction from his Sergeant but Toran was lost in the Hololith, looking like he had not even heard a word, so instead he asked, "Can one strike cruiser take on two Kill Kroozers?"
Furion replied frankly, "Without a Battle Company on board... No we cannot."
"We can still complete the mission," declared Wrethan, "This is no mere gaggle of freebooters but a fully-fledged Ork Horde, the Chapter must learn of this threat. Signal Venator Squadron and order them to break orbit and make for the Warp Translation point. We will delay the Orks long enough for them to escape and warn the Chapter."
Young Novak looked perturbed but he bravely said, "Then our deaths will be glorious."
Wrethan nodded his skull helm and said, "Blessed are we, for the Divine Emperor has granted us a fine death!"
But all were shocked by Toran snapping out of his reverie, turning from the Hololith to yell, "Belay that order! Divert power to the plasma engines, helm prepare for extreme manoeuvres."
Chaplain Wrethan turned about gripping Redeeming-flame tightly as he growled, "Toran do not test my patience, you do not have the experience to deal with this threat."
Toran faced him directly and refused to be cowed as he said, "Father Wrethan, while I bow to your wisdom on matters spiritual you are here solely in an advisory capacity. Chapter Master Gorgall personally put me in command of this mission, you may offer advice but only I may issue orders."
Wrethan stared at Toran, the eyes of his skull helm deep pitiless pits of judgement. For long seconds they locked gazes in a contest of wills, then Wrethan's grip on his Crozius loosened and he said, "Indeed Sergeant, you are correct, I commend your detailed knowledge of the Holy Codex's protocols."
He turned to face the command Nave and shouted loudly, "All crew now hear this: your commander expects every man to serve today knowing full well the eyes of the Divine Emperor are upon him!"
Toran stepped forwards and stated, "Thank you Father, Helmsmen beseech full power from the Plasma drives and decrease our orbital altitude as low as you dare. Sensorium officers perform continuous sweeps as we manoeuvre, I want every detail of the planet and orbital space scanned in case of surprises. Furion, tell the Enginseers to begin amassing reserve power in the capacitors, take it from weapons and shields if they have too, just leave me the plasma engines."
He turned to face the communication suite saying, "Novak, signal Persion and tell him to elevate Venator squadron three hundred kilometres and awaken the Torpedoes for a strike on the Kill Kroozers. Permission granted to fire as soon as they have a shooting solution, then they will disengage."
As the crew and servitors moved to obey Wrethan stepped closer and said softly, "At such extreme range the Orks will easily evade a torpedo strike I... advise saving the shot until they are too close to evade."
Toran stood ramrod straight and said "Thank you Father Wrethan but I am counting on them evading."
"They will stray into our path," replied Wrethan
"Right where we want them to be," stated Toran with steely determination.
With stately grace the Manifest Destiny lowered itself deeper into orbit; the ship sinking closer to the planet and as it did so the curious dynamics of orbital space meant its speed increased too. Already thrusting at full the strike cruiser was now accelerating well beyond its design tolerances. The hull creaked and groaned but it had known the terrors of Warp Space and held true.
After a few long minutes Novak arose from among the communication vestry and announced, "Venator squadron is launching torpedoes." Toran turned to watch the Hololith eagerly as the icons trawled across it and then there was a sudden burst of movement from the Kroozers, not away from the Strike Cruiser but in typical Ork fashion straight towards it.
Novak yelled "Orks vessels changing vectors; Kroozers are evading and are Escorts closing fast from behind, they will have a clear shot at our stern!"
Yet Toran only grinned as he saw his radical strategy had paid off. He gripped the command rail tightly and yelled, "Helm lower the bow three degrees: take us into the Atmosphere!"
The deck officers looked shocked, but still complied yet Toran's gen-enhanced hearing could still pick out Furion muttering, "You better know what you're doing Lad..."
As the bow sank the thinnest wisps of atmosphere began to caress the hull, making it glow cherry red with the friction of re-entry. The serfs began to mutter fearfully and kiss small Aquila tokens but Toran's gaze was fixed in the Hololtih, enthralled as the icons moved. Fierce vibrations began to shake the ship, causing servitors to sway in their sockets and made the crew cling to their consoles. Right light glowed through the armoured louvers of the oculus filling the bridge with a blood-red light and a terrible vibration drowned out the crowds of shouting serfs.
Holding onto a juddering console Furion cried, "We are surfing air, drag is slowing us down!"
Toran held firm to the shaking pulpit rail and ordered sternly, "Increase reactor output and cut all non-essential systems, channel everything to the plasma engines: we must maintain our speed!"
Filled with concern Furion shouted, "Enginseers report the ship's spirit is offended at such disrespectful handling, magnetic containment fields are failing and power levels are fluctuating!"
But Toran was unyielding and commanded, "Then tell them to pray for forgiveness and drain power from life support and the artificial gravity fields!"
The Manifest Destiny was shaking hard now, the pitiless drag of air clawing at auspex arrays and ripping free stone Gargoyles from its hull, the ship was built for the silkiness of vacuum and carved through the air with all the grace of a rock hitting a pond. Drained of vital power the artificial gravity fields went into flux and inertia crept through, the bridge crew groaned as they were pressed hard into consoles and seats. On one deck every man was hurled into the walls as the floor suddenly became slanted and in the Apothecarion a simple surgery on a sick crewman became tragic when the gravity shifted sideways, causing the chirugeon to nick an artery.
In the Thunderhawk bay a servitor-driven cart was hurled over on its side spilling Promethium fuel everywhere and filling the hanger with fumes. Unfortunately at the same time the vibrations cracked a pipe servicing the air recycling system, venting pure oxygen and turning the atmosphere into a Fuel-air bomb. Before anyone could react the entire bay caught fire, killing a hundred serfs and destroying servitors by the dozen. Only the proud Thunderhawks survived, their hulls built for re-entry they were untroubled by mere fire. The Manifest Destiny's spirit reacted in time honoured tradition by sealing blast doors, choking the fire of further air and also condemning another hundred men to suffocate as they beat upon the bulkheads.
On the bridge frantic crewmen struggled against the weight of G-forces as they tried to keep pace with the escalating calamities. Furion fiercely gripped onto a console and struggled to make himself heard over the bedlam, "The ship is bucking hard, she wants to break free for the Void!"
"Hold her steady!" roared Toran grasping the dais rail with both hands, "Keep her running straight and true!"
Chaplain Wrethan stood free on the dais in defiance of all the troubles around him, as steady and unperturbed as rock in an ocean storm, yet he shouted, "We could divert the reserve power to manoeuvring thrusters."
"Not yet, were going to need it." Toran barked without looking round, "This ship has a fine spirit, she will not forsake her crew in their hour of need!"
The ship shook harder and harder until it felt like it would tear itself apart and every man on the bridge clung on for dear life as his world turned into a juddering nauseating vision of fiery hell. An ancient mural of the Chapter's first victory shattered, scything razor sharp fragments into the packed control pews, killing several servitors and one officer who took a shard through the larynx. Then suddenly and without warning the terrible vibration abated and the normal sounds of ship functions filled the bridge. The light returned to its usual state, leaving bewildered men looking around in disbelief.
"What just happened?" asked Novak letting go of a marble column as the shaking died away.
Furion looked up at his Sergeant in amazement and explained, "Toran built up enough speed to skip us off the atmosphere like a stone across flat water."
"Status of the Ork Escorts?" asked Chaplain Wrethan sternly, bringing their attention back to the still lingering threat.
Furion bent over a dead Servitor to peer at an auspex screen then stated, "Those junkheaps are unable to match our manoeuvre and they lumber behind us. Their velocity is too slow to intercept us before we break orbit."
"Report location of Kill Kroozers," commanded Toran in a steady tone of voice.
"Directly in our path Brother-Sergeant and closing damn fast," Furion said without looking up, then a note of alarm entered his voice, "Power spike detected! Ork Weapons are hot and locking on. Our shields are down and we have sixty seconds until we enter range!"
Toran turned to gaze at the Hololith and fixed his eyes upon the Orks as he commanded, "Direct every drop of reserve power into the main drives. Helm set for maximum acceleration: All Ahead Full."
Then he proclaimed for all to hear, "Give me Ramming Speed!"