Saeva Abyssi Chapter 4

The bridge of the Thunderchild was never quiet, there was always activity going on at any given moment. And yet this shift was about as quiet as it ever got, crewmen executing their duties in a relaxed atmosphere, taking their time to check their work rather than performing it in a frantic rush. The scene was tinted mint-green by reflected light coming off the gas giant Astu, pouring in through the Oculus like an emerald sunrise. Standing on the command dais was a Space Marine in brutal Mark III Iron armour, it was Sergeant Furion and he was directing the Serfs in a calm, measured tone of voice. Into this arena wandered Captain Toran, passing a Serfs armsman who cried aloud, "Captain on the Bridge!"

Furion saw the Captain coming and hopped off the dais, striding over to meet him under the glimmering Hololith projection. Toran looked about and remarked, "What's going on then?"

Furion replied, "We detected a squadron of ships five light-minutes out, just entering Auspex range. I recognise the engine signatures of the lead ship, it's the Averof."

Toran commented, "That's Captain Mandas' ship, we haven't seen him since we gave the Tyranids a drubbing at Angle's Redoubt."

Furion said, "Yes, it would be good to see the old void dog again."

Toran called over to the communication station, "Hail the Captain of the Averof, send him our regards."

The serfs hastened to obey but at this range it would take several minutes for a vox signal to travel that far and then return. As they waited Toran examined the auspex feeds and saw the energy signatures of an Imperial cruiser and half a dozen escorts, a sizeable patrol in force. Toran mused, "I wasn't expecting to see the Navy here, there were no dispatches of patrols in this system."

Furion remarked, "They're not just passing by either, their course is a direct intercept to our position. They came looking for us."

Something about that statement tickled Toran's subconscious but he dismissed it. Mandas was an old friend and ally, he could be trusted. Toran said, "It's probably just that their Astropathic message was lost, you know how fickle the Warp is."

Furion's reply was cut off by a clatter of armoured feet and Toran glanced behind to see his Command Squad approaching. Persion, Novak, Bylan and Jediah following Chaplain Wrethan onto the bridge. He raised an eyebrow, expecting them to provide some paltry excuse for them to come nosing about but Novak blurted out, "What's this we hear about Mandas coming to call?"

Toran shook his head at his glib Champion's irrepressible tongue and called back, "Yes, we've picked up the Averof; the good Captain is paying us a visit."

Persion wandered up and said, "We should have him over for dinner, it's our turn after all."

"Not a bad idea," Toran mused then called, "Communications, signal the Averof and invite her Captain to a feast in his honour."

Novak muttered, "We'd better break out the good rations, I doubt he'd appreciate a nourishing bowl of synthi-gruel."

Jediah snorted and remarked, "Our armour-repair paste tastes better."

Everybody chuckled at the old, old joke about the tailored, chemically-rich rations served to the Astartes. Toran was about to reply when a communications Serf stood up and called, "My lords, we can't raise the Averof's commander. All we are getting are standard hails."

Toran frowned as a nagging itch formed in his mind and he ordered, "Give me a visual."

The Hololith shimmered and reset as an image of the incoming fleet of vessels coalesced. At their heart cruised a giant warship, all flying buttresses, an armoured prow and massive guns: an Imperial Lunar class cruiser. Bylan said, "+That's the Averof alright, I'd recognise her pennants anywhere+"

Toran looked upon it and saw the familiar lines and signal markers of the great ship. It was closing into real-time communications range and should be calling out in greeting but there was nothing. Toran's trigger finger was itching now, never a good sign but he could see nothing wrong, save her silence all was well.

Toran muttered, "This isn't like Mandas, why isn't he answering?"

Novak said, "You don't think he's been replaced do you?"

"Never, he loves that ship too much," declared Wrethan firmly, "The only way he's ever departing that bridge is when they carry him out in his coffin."

Jediah growled, "Maybe he didn't have a choice, the Inquisition is always plotting some scheme or another."

Toran stared into the Hololithic image as his trigger finger itched furiously. A tiny part of his mind was screaming for him to be wary but for the life of him he couldn't articulate why. Everything was normal, all hails and authentication protocols perfect in every detail. He should be welcoming the sight of the Imperial fleet, so why was it making his hackles rise? He tried to shake it off, to tell himself it was just a communications break down but just couldn't make himself believe it. His eyes kept being drawn back to the visual display, poring over the details and seeing a perfectly normal image. And yet every time his eyes swept the Averof's lines his nagging unease flared and his trigger finger itched frantically. He felt torn in two, his eyes telling him that all was routine while his subconscious screamed that something was off, but he just couldn't fathom what it was that was making him feel this way.

Bylan was also peering at the image in the Hololith and he said, "+You know those shipwrights really can do excellent work+"

Novak looked puzzled and said, "What do you mean?"

Bylan explained, "+Well I saw the Averof take heavy damage at the Battle of Angle's Redoubt only a year ago, but she looks like she's in perfect condition+"

That remark made the hairs on the back of Toran's neck stand up and his nagging itch flared into outright suspicion. He stared at the Hololithic image and saw that the young Standard Bearer was right; the Averof was in a perfect state of repair. Toran had seen that ship in battle and knew her scars as well as his own, a record of every scrap she had been in, as individual as fingerprints. This ship was indeed scarred, in fact there were signs of old battles all over the hull, but the patterns were completely wrong. Toran realised that this ship was not the Averof, it could not be and that meant it had to be someone else. Barely had the thought formed in his mind when Toran was yelling, "Sound general quarters, all hands to action stations! Rouse the ship's Spirit for war and raise the shields!"

The whole bridge started in surprise, everybody looking at Toran as if he had gone mad but the Captain roared, "Now!" The whole bridge descended into a mad scrum of jostling men as Chaplain Wrethan moved up and down the nave bellowing, "Move it you dogs, the order is given! I expect you to be ready in less than ten minutes and the clock is already running!"

Panic erupted as the crew scrambled to respond and a fierce alarm started blaring, one that rang throughout the whole ship over and over to alert the crew. Serfs started pouring in through the main hatch and rushed to their posts, racing to get into position. Meanwhile teams of armsmen took up positions outside the hatch and the armoured louvres slid shut over the Oculus. It was a scene Toran knew would be repeated throughout the ship, crewmen fighting to awaken dormant systems and secure blast hatches while others fought to load guns and fuel Thunderhawks. Even now the Tech-Priests would be blessing the reactors and Void shield generators, performing ancient rituals from the dawn of the Imperium to stir their Machine Spirits into a state of eagerness.

While all this was happening Toran mounted the command dais and his command squad spread out to their various positions: Furion took the helm, Novak the Ordnance, Jediah the guns, Bylan the Engineerium and Persion stood by the Sensorium. As the ship slowly stirred to its peak alert level Furion opened a vox link so the serfs wouldn't hear and he called, "Captain, what's going on?"

Toran answered him, "That ship is not the Averof."

Persion butted in saying, "Not the Averof… but all the signals and identifications match perfectly."

Toran replied, "Trust me, someone is trying to trick us."

Novak sounded confused and said, "But if that is not Mandas then who is it?"

Jediah spat from his post, "I bet it's that Inquisitor Zerban, who else would have the authority to duplicate Imperial Naval signals. I knew we hadn't seen the last of that vermin."

Toran cautioned him, "We know nothing for sure, save that deceit is in the air. Let us be prepared to meet it."

The minutes dragged by as the crew hastened to finish their preparations and Toran felt like he had a target painted upon his back with every second that crawled past. Then at last the various stations began sounding off, calling their readiness. The last to speak was Chaplain Wrethan who approached the command dais and said, "All hands report ready, the ship is at Battle Stations."

Toran glanced at him and said, "Time?"

Wrethan's fierce pride slipped past his usual mask of ire and he could not keep the approval from his voice as he reported, "Nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds."

Toran smiled despite the tense situation and called, "Well done men, you have done the Emperor proud this day. Now about our intruders, what are they doing?"

Persion called back, "Still closing, no direct communications yet."

Toran looked at the Hololith and ordered, "Send a challenge, warn them that they are approaching an armed vessel of the Adeptus Astartes. Tell them if they do not stand off immediately and provide proper authorization then they will be fired upon."

Persion bent over the communication posts but after a minute he stood up and said, "They are responding, they claim to have Inquisitorial authority to be here. They order us to stand down and lower our shields."

Toran's suspicions deepened and he said, "The Inquisition does not give orders to the Astartes. Let us remind them of that fact: ready gun batteries."

Jediah eagerly bent to his task but Furion said, "We are not really going to fire on the Inquisition are we?"

Toran reassured him, "A single shot across the bow ought to get our point across."

After a moment Jediah stood up and said, "Guns aligned."

Toran looked up at the Hololith and said, "Give them a shot, one gun only and make sure to miss by a wide margin."

Jediah only looked slightly disappointed but complied and there was the tiniest quiver in the deck as one of the port side's Macrocannons fired. A standard Mars IV pattern gun, it hurled a Kilotonne grade projectile out into space, travelling at stupendous speeds. Toran watched the round flash past the incoming fleet and warily awaited their response. Long seconds passed and absolutely nothing happened, seconds dragging by as the crew held their breaths in anxious anticipation. Toran felt an unaccustomed cold shiver run down his spine as he wondered what was going to happen but all he could do was wait. Suddenly and without warning the Hololith dissolved into static, breaking up into a harsh wash of disruption. Toran bellowed, "Sensorium, the auspex feed has failed, get it working again!"

But Persion called back, "It's not the Auspex, this is what's really happening out there."

Toran looked back and realised that behind the harsh distortions the stars were clear and perfectly focused. It was the ships themselves that were hazy and ill-defined, wavering like reflections cast upon water. Toran's trigger finger was itching furiously now but he did not know what to do as the strange phenomenon wavered before him. Then suddenly it snapped out of existence and where there had previously been a squadron of Imperial Navy vessels now there was a collection of far smaller and more alien craft. Toran gasped to see their dark, curving lines and jagged weapon arrays, all pointed at his ship. Novak sounded flabbergasted as he called, "Those aren't human, what the hell are they?"

Toran saw the ships breaking formation and dashing forward on an attack run as he yelled, "It's the Eldar!"