Fame Cimex Chapter 14

Through the darkness of space stars moved, a line of blazing plasma exhausts denoting the passage of many ships. These were titanic, slab-sided monoliths, their immense armoured wedge prows and lines of gun batteries proclaiming them to be the mighty Imperial Navy. There were a half-dozen capital ships, surrounding the immense bulk of an ancient Battleship that sat in the heart of the formation like a grown Mastodon surrounded by calves. Around the perimeter of the fleet swarms of strike craft flew alert patrols and escort squadrons pushed the limits of their drives, each eager to be the first to sight the Xenos. The fleet was advancing boldly into the outer darkness of the Stellar system, seeking to engage the Tyranids directly. The wisdom of such a course was neither here nor there, they had their orders and that was the end of it.

In the midst of the formation a humble cruiser was powering forward, her weapons primed for battle and her auspex arrays sweeping constantly for threats. Her name was the Averof and she was a Lunar-class ship of the line, one that had seen millennia of war and still bore most of the scars to prove it. On her bridge officers and servitors went about their business, each man knowing that battle was imminent while on a high balcony a choir was directed by the ship's clergy to chant hymns praising Him on Terra. On the command dais was the Captain. Unusually for a Naval captain he did not wear gold braiding nor badges of rank, s simple white shirt and black trousers sufficed for him, along with a gold sash about his waist and a boarding cutlass that was notched and chipped from repeated use. His name was Georgios Mandas and he was the Captain of the Averof, a position he had earned through a combination of skill, daring and luck as opposed to the more typical route of having the right family connections.

Mandas was surveying the bridge and seemed satisfied with the state of affairs, a glance at the main Hololithic display caused a frown though. He drew in a breath and said, "Commander Grenfeld, have the helm reduce plasma drives by three percent, we are drifting out of formation."

From the floor of the bridge the ship's first officer said, "Aye Aye Captain."

Mandas glanced at his first officer, still not quite used to seeing a woman serving in the post, especially not one with a permanent scowl and frosting of grey in her hair. The Imperial Navy was notorious hidebound and patriarchal so it was rare for women to rise high in the ranks, yet Grenfeld seemed to have the fire to break the mould and would rise high if given a chance. Mandas had recognised her talent immediately and promoted her at the first opportunity, but still the old prejudice ran deep and she had faced more than a few challenges since coming aboard. After a few 'accidents' had occurred Grenfeld had carved out a reputation for ruthlessness and ferocity that gave the men pause, the number of incidents had dropped sharply after the first few months. Shipboard rumour even claimed that she slept with a knife under her pillow, Mandas knew that wasn't true: she had told him that it was a loaded Laspisol.

Mandas shook off his reflections and inspected the fleet disposition, finding that he could not fault the deployment plan. The fleet was spread out line abreast and advancing rapidly, using the ferocity and zeal the Navy was famed for. Mandas was proud to be a part of that noble institution, just as he was proud of his ship's ability to take a pounding and give out twice as much in return. Still this situation was far from ideal, the Tyranids were not to be underestimated and yet here they were, racing to meet them. The navy had been forced into this battle by political wrangling, by men who knew nothing of void warfare and surely would be conveniently absent if things were to go wrong.

Mandas sighed loudly and the noise attracted the attention of his Chief Commissar, Kaath-Dousmanis. The commissar wandered over and without asking permission, climbed onto the dais, which would be a gross offence from anyone other than a discipline officer. Kaath-Dousmanis glanced at the captain and said, "Something wrong Georgios?"

The use of his first name irked Mandas, but there was little he could do about it. The Commissar had been appointed to the role, as all discipline officers were, and the Captain was stuck with him. Kaath-Dousmanis was an unimpressive sight, lacking the fire and the will expected of a Commissar, but he was distantly related to the Lord Admiral on his mother's side and in the Imperial Navy that counted for a lot. Mandas knew that Kaath-Dousmanis had only gained his role through his family connections and was almost certainly in line for a cushy desk-job at the Admiralty. Yet for appearance's sake, he had to have spent some time on the front line and so here he was. Surely one day soon he would be sipping wine at some Admiral's ball, trying to impress a noble's daughter with a war story, one that would be a trifle more believable if he actually had a scar to prove it. Captain Mandas however did not enjoy the patronage of so noble a name, a fact that had been demonstrated to him repeatedly by the boots and fists of the other cadets at the Naval Academy of Tectum. Mandas had learned to fight back, using grit and bravado to carve out a slither of respect; it was a fight he was still waging to this very day.

The Captain realised that the Commissar was still waiting for an answer and said, "Just contemplating the battle to come."

Kaath-Dousmanis replied, "Ah yes a glorious day indeed, this triumph will be long remembered in the histories of Battlefleet Karyl."

Mandas replied, "First we have to win it."

Kaath-Dousmanis shrugged, making his ridiculously over ornamented Chainsword sway, "Cardinal Giovanni has prophesied a great victory, surely the God-Emperor smiles upon us."

Mandas bit back his first retort, his opinion of Giovanni was not something to be voiced out loud and instead said, "I would be more confident if we had the Storm Heralds here, their battlebarges would make a real difference."

Kaath-Dousmanis flinched at that, he had experienced an absolutely humiliating encounter with that Chapter once before, but he rallied, "We don't need them, we have the Hyperion."

Mandas decided to drop the issue, knowing anything he said to this man would doubtless find its way back to the Lord Admiral's ears. The last thing he wanted anyone to know was that it was he who had sent warnings to the Storm Heralds, that it was he who was Captain Toran's contact. Mandas instead looked at the Hololith and said, "The Hyperion, yes a fine ship with a good history, though I have found the Oberon class to be a bit of a jack of all trades and a master of none."

Kaath-Dousmanis warmed to the subject, eager to prove his knowledge of naval history, "But it has its advantages, we need all the guns we can get and with three carrier vessels we certainly won't be lacking for fighter cover."

Mandas was surprised, that was actually a cogent remark, and he said, "Yes indeed, this may be our first time facing Tyranids, but I am confident that the Averof will do us proud this day."

Whatever comment Kaath-Dousmanis was about to make was interrupted as Grenfeld called up, "Captain, escorts report contacts, the enemy is in sight!"

Mandas wasted not a second to call, "Sound action stations! All crew to their posts, charge void shields and run out the guns. Look alive men, this is the real thing!"

Frantic activity burst into life as the crew scrambled to obey, officers rushing to and fro to bring the great ship into combat readiness. Shouts rang out and logic engines thrummed but this was the organised, reassuring sounds of a well-drilled crew responding to orders. One by the one the stations sounded off, each post calling out their readiness as their respective departments came to alert. When all was ready Mandas called, "Push the auspex feed from the escorts onto the Hololith, let's see what we're up against."

The great Hololith flickered and dissolved into static, showing only a harsh grainy blur filled with swarming dots and blurs of colours. Mandas was about to swear and call for the Tech-Priests to bless the projector and correct the error, but then his jaw dropped as he saw scale markers at the edge of the display. This was no imaging error, this actually was the enemy fleet. Vast bio-ships undulated through the void, hideous creatures of pitted stone hides and twitching claws. No two bio-ships were alike, for the variety was shocking, each vessel its own unique creation of claws, fangs and tentacles. Orifices loomed ominously in their hulls, hinting at the deadly weapons held within and from gaping maws spilled wave after wave of spore clouds, making the fleet resemble a single nebula more than a squadron of vessels. Silence fell across the bridge as the reality sank in, the Hololith showing an endless swarm of vessels approaching, an avalanche of foes sweeping across the blackness of space. Mandas had never seen so many ships in one place, not even Orks could match the multitudes of horrors coming at them. For the first time Mandas was shocked into silence and it was Kaath-Dosumanis who said softly, "God-Emperor protect us…"

The crew of the Averof struggled to grasp the scale of the nightmare they had blundered into and even seasoned officers went ashen-faced. The Imperials were ludicrously outnumbered and the chances of any of them surviving had just dropped perilously low. Mandas stood in shock, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to see how they were going to get through this. He was shaken from his silence as the Hololith flared and a star emerged amid the Hive fleet. Searing plasma wash engulfed a squadron of Kraken and they burned fiercely, hides peeling off as the inferno of a star consumed them. Then the blast faded, leaving three burning husks to fall out of formation, and another half-dozen limping along with burn welts weeping.

The Captain cried, "What was that?!"

Grenfeld replied, "The Agamemnon, she just fired her Nova Canon."

Mandas looked at the Hololith in amazament and Cried, "Emperor bless the Rear-Admiral! Right come on you void-dogs, let's not be outdone. Get your arses in gear!"

The shock wore off the officers and the ship came back to readiness, crewmen rushing to get the ship prepared for the fight ahead. The Hololith flared again and Grenfeld called, "That was the Kilkis, she getting her shots in!" Mandas saw the Nova Cannon explosion detonate in the midst of the Hive fleet, organic hulls being ripped open to spill ichor into the void. It was a mere pinprick to the might of the fleet but it was a stirring sight nonetheless. Mandas shouted loudly, "See them bleed lads, they are not invincible. Where are my torpedoes, we will teach them not to tangle with the Imperial Navy!"

An officer at the Ordnance pulpit called, "Torpedoes locked on target sir."

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Mandas bellowed, "Shoot!"

The whole ship rumbled as six massive cylinders leapt from her prow, racing ahead to disappear into the swarming bulk of the Hive Fleet, the auspex being unable to track their progress in the seething clouds of spores. The torpedoes vanished behind the sheer mass of the Hive fleet and there was no way to tell if they had found a target or been swatted down. The Tyranids were swarming ever closer to the Imperial lines, the distance shrinking with bowel-loosening terror. Commander Grenfeld called, "Sir signal from the Lord Admiral: all ships to commence Sheer manoeuvre to port and form line astern: prepare to present all guns."

Mandas called, "Helm come to a new heading. Gunnery ready weapons, let's give them a broadside to remember us by!"