Chapter Twenty-nine
One by one, the ships moved into position, six columns of vessels in three-dimensional parallel, with warships escorting front and rear. From the Piety, looking backwards at a head-on view, the formation appeared a perfect inverted parabola, with an escort at the bottom of each arm and Piety herself the apex. Only when viewed from the side did the depth of the formation become truly apparent, like a series of arches.
It was a well-favoured formation for convoy use, allowing the trade-ships to use what little weaponry they had with minimal danger of hitting each other, and keeping the most vulnerable vessels in the middle of the group where they could be protected somewhat from incoming fire. The warships too held advantage in that their position allowed ease of manoeuvre to protect their charges regardless of which direction an attack might come from.
Rear-admiral Gaantt had arranged his escorting squadron carefully; two frigates each at van- and rearguard, his smaller escorts in a wedge leading the convoy, and his own flagship at the critical position of vanguard zenith. He had also placed the most powerful of his charges, the two adeptus ships, at the rear; they had the best weaponry and the lowest refugee capacity. Except, of course, for the massive strike destroyer, which clearly outgunned his own ship by a fair margin. Eyes of the Phoenix had been placed centrally at zenith, where he could either use her as a pure transport, or have her cover the other trader ships. He only hoped it would be enough; the sitreps from Nalen were getting grimmer by the hour.
He leant over the rail and down to his flag captain. "Captain Bramwig, is every ship on station?"
A formal nod. "Yes, admiral. All ships are on station and report readiness for warp."
"Very well. Execute."
A snapped salute and Bramwig turned back to his bridge officers. The warp alert sounded as acceleration built – slowly, to allow for the traders.
Denliot's calm voice came over the main speakers. "All hands. Warp entry in ninety seconds. In the Emperor's name."
Gaantt smiled briefly and took his position in his command chair, looking down on the main bridge where Bramwig likewise was seating himself. The displays came live and the ship seemed to hold its breath, then the familiar skin-crawl of Geller fields intersecting the warp, and they were on their way.
Sara sat in the unfamiliar command throne wishing silently that she was back in the pilot's seat. Not that she could not take control of any station; she could. Simply, she was familiar with her HUD and having the control surfaces at her fingertips. She watched the Navy pilot, a Lieutenant Graaff, as he laid in course and took position in the convoy. Her job, and she had to bite down on her resentment.
Janey had refused point blank to give up her own station and was busily engaged monitoring the comms. She had shown her Navy equivalent, a grizzled warrant officer named Halet, the comms and scan systems, and informed him in no uncertain terms that she was in charge of them regardless of Navy protocols and that she would be on the main watch roster. The senior Navy officer, Lieutenant Loville, had to be fair raised no objection.
Said officer turned to her. "Ready for warp, ma'am."
Sara nodded and opened the channel to Navigator Edsel. "Warp on my mark, Navigator. Ninety seconds."
His voice came back, calm and unflappable, "Ninety seconds, captain. I have signal lock from the flagship."
The unfamiliar tenor of Tech-adept Gramsci, down in engineering where he was no doubt drooling over Phoenix's complex systems, came over the link. "All systems nominal for warp, captain."
"Geller fields online."
"Geller fields online, captain."
She spoke into the main speakers. "All hands, warp in sixty seconds." Not waiting for confirmations, she switched back to Edsel. "Navigator, take us in on mark. Warp drives to you."
A few seconds' pause. "Warp drives online."
She watched the screens as ship after ship followed through the hole in reality, then, "Warp transit achieved. Signal is good. On course, by the Emperor's Grace."
That was a relief. So much more complex than their usual process. She stood.
"Lieutenant Loville, you have the bridge. Maintain station in the convoy; any problems, I have my command wand so contact me through that. Sedreth, if you will? We better see to our guests below. The Commissar is no doubt tearing his hair out in impatience."
The big man met her eyes, expressionlessly sardonic. "Of course, captain." He walked with her through the polished metal doors and towards the lift.
Sara bit down on her temper; they needed these troops. In her most reasonable voice she repeated herself for the umpteenth time. "No, commissar. You may not have access to brother-sergeant Sedreth's chapel. The traditions of an astartes chapter are a matter for that chapter alone, as has been long upheld by Imperial law and both Eccliesiarchical and Administrative practise. Unless you want to argue the case with brother-sergeant Sedreth and his battle-brothers, I suggest that you drop this foolishness and concentrate on your job." She let some bite into her tone on the last sentence.
"But captain, neither you nor your daughter have attended any service. My job is to look after the souls of those in my care, to strengthen the will of the God-Emperor's servants before – and during and after – battle."
"My daughter and myself follow the same regimen as brother-sergeant Sedreth. As I have explained already." She sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling. There was short silence as she considered her options, then decided. Slamming her hands on the table, she stood and looked directly into his eyes. "Commissar, the matter is closed. If you have a problem once you are returned to normal duties, feel free to write a report. Until then, keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way. Interfere on my ship and I will kill you myself. Interfere with my daughter and I swear you will beg for death. Is that quite clear?" She leant forward, her eyes almost touching his face. "I said, is that quite clear?"
He nodded, for the moment intimidated.
"Good. Then I have other things to attend to. Walk in His light, Commissar." She didn't wait for an answer and stalked out.
Back in the conference chamber, Peiper leant back, a sour expression on his thin face. A deep bass interrupted his thoughts. "Commissar Peiper. If you attempt to interfere with the operations of this ship, know that you cannot run far enough or fast enough to escape the consequences. Captain Tarken has fought, and killed, astartes of the traitor legions. More than once. So has her daughter. And both of them are far less skilled and far more merciful than I am. Let the matter drop, Commissar. This ship and its crew serve the Emperor as willingly as you do. We are going to go into battle together. Have no doubt that Sara Tarken will have your back at need. Just remember to have hers."
The giant gave what might have been a wintry smile, turned, and walked out, somehow silent despite the massive war-plate.
"Commissar?" said Major Harvey, quietly.
Peiper shook his head. "Technically, both of them are correct. Moreover, we appear to have caused significant irritation to our hosts. Take no action. We will come out of warp in another six days, and into a combat situation. Only if Tarken fails to perform her duties will we take over command."
"Yes, Commissar." Harvey stood and walked to the door. After a few moments, Peiper followed him, leaving the chamber lights to dim on automatic.
"Admiral. Incoming signal from Nalen system command. Emergency priority, sir." The young comm officer's voice showed anxiety. Gaant merely nodded.
"Put it through."
A figure appeared on the holoscreen, a grey-haired man in the uniform of a vice-admiral. Sigismund v'Straaken.
"Admiral Gaantt. This is vice-admiral v'Straaken aboard INS Augury of Wrath. What is your ETA?"
"Admiral, we expect to arrive in Nalen system in forty-seven hours and forty minutes. Can you confirm the situation?"
"The system is under sustained attack by the accursed xenos. So far none have landed on Nalen C, but Nalen D has been partially taken by the scum. Orbital defence stations on both main worlds are engaged; two above D are out of action. We are holding, but just. Can you expedite your warp transit?"
Gaantt thought for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Negative, admiral. Not with this convoy. I cannot be certain the trade-ships would be able to maintain a higher transit speed, nor that they would retain formation. And I should retain escort positions as far as possible. I can despatch my forward warships, however. Three Cobra-class destroyers. Would that be sufficient?"
The other admiral looked thoughtful. "It would help. Even a small addition of fire-power would enable us to force the xenos back a little, and give your convoy more manoeuvre."
"I shall despatch them immediately, sir. At max, they can be with you in approximately eighteen hours. I shall order their captains to liaise with your command."
"Eighteen hours. Good. Do that. Emperor look on you, Jedoan."
"And on you, old friend. Gaantt out."
He turned to Bramwig and started dictating orders.
She hated warp travel; the nightmares always woke her. This time it was only a minor terror, rough voices, screams and only a little blood. Kat woke quickly, and was able to wipe the sweat from her skin without shaking too much. She glanced at the chrono. On shift in three hours. Ah, well. Not much point in trying to go back to sleep. She stepped into her shower, grateful that the ship was both well-enough appointed and short-enough crewed to allow her the luxury of a bridge officer's cabin and facilities even though she technically didn't rank them. The privacy meant she didn't disturb anyone else. Well, not often.
The warm air was good against her skin and she stepped from dryer to small wardrobe, pulling out her uniform. Everyone on Pleasance had a uniform, plain soft green with rank markings in silver, for officers, or bronze, for other crew. Captain Esiason had spent some time in the Navy before taking command of a family trade ship, and he had pushed for all the family conglomerate vessels to provide uniforms and such paraphernalia as went with them. He also insisted on wearing his own service medals. Understanding the captain's ego, Kat had never worn her own. She rather liked the man, had worked his ship for two years, and she had no desire to outshine him.
Tapping her wand to the cabin lock, she turned port-side and strolled into the mess for breakfast. A good filling meal would be the quickest way to settle herself down, she knew from experience, and Pleasance's commissary was a considerable improvement on INS service fare. The captain might be proud of his Naval service, but he saw no reason to extend that pride to standard Naval rations. Something, she mused, for which the entire crew had good cause to be thankful.
She was on her second warming mug of Vril when other people started coming through the doors. Y'lis Trabant, the senior Nav officer whose station adjoined her own – scan and Nav tended to work together a great deal when insystem – took a casual seat opposite her and started his usual routine of buttering a bread roll.
"Scan."
"Nav. Good morning."
"And you. Up first again. Do you ever sleep?" His voice was pleasant light tenor, made more so by the gently teasing tone.
"Unlike you ancients, I go to bed when I'm tired. So I am properly rested on wakening." She sipped at her still hot drink, savouring the meaty taste.
"Obviously." Trabant didn't rise to the bait. He was after all, twenty years her senior, and had a certain dignity to uphold. He bit into his roll with his usual relish instead.
Kat smiled briefly. She smiled an acknowledgement to Seria's easy wave at the next table. The weapons tech and she got on well together, occasionally playing regicide when off-shift. The other woman had been aboard for eleven years, following a full term in Imperial service. She expected to retire on a decent pension in a decade or so, and had saved enough to buy a small farm back on Draal, an agri-world where Pleasance's parent company had extensive holdings. Raising livestock. Kat had no such interest. All her ambitions in that direction had been burned out of her by the attack at Meyis and her subsequent sterility. Space was what she had left, so she would see the galaxy until the Emperor called her home.
Half an hour later she walked smartly to her bridge station. Marko was there, of course. Senior Lieutenant Oplew, as he was more formally titled. He nodded to her.
"All systems nominal. You want run your checks?"
She nodded, taking the dataslate from him. System checks took her three minutes; confirmation of scan readouts and shift report two more. She nodded affirmation.
"Senior Lieutenant Oplew, you are relieved."
He gave a brief grin at the formality. "I stand relieved, Lieutenant Verstark."
She took over his station, slipping her command wand into the slot in place of his. "Anything I should know?"
He shook his head. "Nada. Convoy appears on station, warp exit scheduled for sixteen twenty-three mainday, oh-four twenty-three tomorrow alterday."
Ten hours, more or less.
"Confirmed. Duplicate stations for exit?"
He nodded. That was standard procedure for unknown or hostile systems. "I'll relieve you in six hours."
She shook her head. "I won't rest much after relief anyway. Make it eight. That'll be more than plenty time to check my set-up. I can get something to eat and relax for an hour or so, and that's all I need. Six isn't enough for you to get a proper sleep period."
Marko paused for a second, then nodded. "Fair enough. 'Til later, Kat." He smiled briefly and strolled off the bridge. She watched his departing back for a second, then turned back to her duties, readying the shift change report for the captain when he came on.
"All hands, warp exit in fifty minutes. All hands to battle stations." The calm voice echoed along Piety's corridors, rapidly drowned out by the thunder of hundreds of boots as off-shift personnel dragged themselves from commissaries and barracks cots towards their combat stations. On deck after deck, chaplains and commissars led short prayer services, warrant officers ran last-minute final, final, final checks, and officers checked off roll-calls. Munitions were loaded into mighty guns, tech-adepts and even the occasional tech-priest blessing each round one final time.
On the bridge, Captain Bramwig looked up at his admiral. Both wore formal dress, glittering with decorations to remind their men that their seniors had been there before, tasted victory, and expected to do so again.
"Warp exit in ten minutes. All convoy vessels have acknowledged." Commander Denliot's voice was clear and calm, as if this was just another day rather than imminent battle against a ruthless and implacable enemy.
Gaantt nodded to his flag-captain. "Execute when ready, captain Bramwig. We do the Emperor's work this day"
Bramwig saluted. "Yes, sir." He nodded to his pilots. "Open exit gate."
Augury of Wrath was hard-pressed, under fire from two xenos vessels of cruiser size and displacement. The larger of the two, a Devourer-class, was sending powerful blasts of bio-acids against the battle-cruiser's void shields, while the smaller, classified as Razorfiend-class by the Imperium, closed to engage with kilometres-long tentacles and claws that skittered across the heavy armour-plate. Fortunately for the Imperial Navy, the Overlord-class had enormous fire-power and the combination of its gigantic lances and its many bow-torpedoes had all but crippled the Razorfiend long before it could close. Dozens of Imperial attack craft swarmed the combat, concentrating as much fire as possible on the single remaining attack tentacle that was partially wrapped along their flagship's starboard gun battery. Said gun battery was pouring fire into its organic nemesis at so close a range that the guns literally could not miss, and the ship-creature was taking such a brutal hammering that the stench of burned tyranid flesh was starting to permeate the very armour-plate. From every spare orifice Imperial troopers shoved carbines outwards to add to the destruction – and not coincidentally to prevent any xenos spores or creatures from gaining a foothold.
Admiral v'Straaken watched coldly from his command deck. Through the ten-metre-thick armour-glass he could see the enemy tearing at his flagship in a desperate attempt to penetrate the thick armour and get to the fragile crew inside. So far, that attempt had been futile, and the xenos were paying dearly for making it. Still, being all but attached to another ship made manoeuvre awkward, and Augury of Wrath's massive lances were, for the moment, taken out of the equation. Given that he had already lost his second largest ship, the mighty Dominator-class heavy cruiser Sword of Sanctity, leaving him with only one other cruiser class vessel, the ageing Cardinal-classveteran INS Pride of Aarestes,this was not a loss he could thole for long.
"Captain Drake, order Viper and Blessed Venom to make a full lance strike at our starboard side. The armour can take it, and we must break free of this xenos thing."
Drake blinked in surprise, then nodded. "At once, admiral." She rapidly spoke into the vox and both of them watched the screens as the two Cobra-class, their sister already lost, moved to obey. Bright light flared against the void shields, but the monstrous arm was severed by the blast, falling away into the gravity well of Nalen D to burn up in the hapless world's atmosphere.
Even as he turned back to his flag-captain, the woman was rapping out orders, pulling them back and round to give full reign to the battlecruiser's fury. Fully charged and at less than five kilometres range, the massive energy blast ripped the enemy ship-creature into fragments.
V'Straaken gave a tiny smile. Now, xenos scum, we shall see who holds the advantage.
"Sir, warp portal opening at system zenith. It's rear-admiral Gaantt and his convoy."
"Excellent. Order him to make for the main docks at Nalen C. Then get me contact with the rear-admiral."
"Admiral, contact from fleet command."
"Onscreen."
V'Straaken's care-worn face appeared with a slight smile. "Good to see you on time, Admiral. I regret to inform you that Despite is lost with all hands. However both Viper and Blessed Venom are fighting well. You should have sufficient time to load full capacity at Nalen C docks. Utilise all three orbital docking stations and, if you have capable ships, the surface spaceport as well. Our augurs report that a reinforcing formation of xenos is en route and could be here within four hours. The planetary governor and his people have full schedules already worked out, so I shall leave you to organise the evacuation."
"Of course, admiral. Do you require my warships to assist your forces? Or do you want them to run protection for the traders?"
"Your squadron has only one cruiser-class, admiral, and you need Piety to command your convoy. If you have targets of opportunity, take them, but unless you can magic up a cruiser from somewhere, no. Your smaller vessels are better used in convoy protection. The evacuation must take priority for now."
Gaantt nodded, then a thought struck him. "I may have one other ship, admiral. A converted but very old cruiser class, owned and run by a rogue trader. Eyes of the Phoenix, her name is. Do you want me to order her join your forces?"
V'Straaken blinked. "A civilian vessel?"
"Yes sir, but the ship carries, and appears to be under the agency of, the space marines, admiral. One space marine battle-brother is permanently stationed aboard. Its captain has fought xenos in space before, and has some of my people aboard to assist in combat."
The vice-admiral paused thoughtfully then shook his head. "No. A civilian vessel, even with a Navy command crew, is not a risk I will take at this time."
"Very well, admiral. I shall deploy the ship as part of my convoy."
"Acknowledged, admiral. Walk in His Light. Augury of Wrath out."
"Mummy, signal from Admiral Gaantt."
"Onscreen." She met the man's eyes with a brief smile. "Rear-admiral Gaantt. Are you changing my orders?"
The man nodded briefly. "Yes, captain. Given the current circumstances, I need you to run as an additional escort while we evacuate from Nalen C. Once the majority of trader vessels are loaded, you can move in to pick up remaining refugees. With your permission I'd like to organise protocols with Lieutenant Loville.
Sara nodded shortly. They had expected something like this. She stepped aside to let Loville talk with the admiral, and gestured Graaff to take the back-up pilot station.
Across the bridge came affirmations.
"Lances fully charged."
"All void shields online."
"All batteries online."
"Tacscan online." Janey's voice.
"Screening position received, captain."
"Engines green. Course plotted. Moving to designated rendezvous. Point two seven light." She kept her own tone calm and relaxed, then glanced round at Loville, who nodded.
On the tactical displays little Blessed Venom moved into a back-up escorting position. The destroyer would be the closest warship to them.
"Xenos target bearing delta four by two."
She smiled and said, "Engage."
Loville's voice came from behind her. "All weapons engaging, captain."
On Augury of Wrath Fleet-Captain Trinda Drake watched with interest as the rogue trader moved efficiently – remarkably efficiently in fact – into position. She glanced at her readouts as the class spec came up at last, then raised an eyebrow in surprise. A flare of brilliant light came from the other ship's prow. Impressive fire-power for a trade ship. It appeared that Admiral Gaantt's squadron would not require reinforcement. Without the need to cover vulnerable traders, maybe they could concentrate enough fire to defeat these xenos after all.