Saeva Abyssi Chapter 7

The atmosphere of Astu was a turgid mix of gases and compounds, a constantly swirling soup of chemical reactions and impurities. The green tint was everywhere, resulting from traces of rare elements and it grew thicker and darker in relation to its distance from the surface. The light from the distant star grew dimmer and dimmer the further one went, creating a world of darkness and constant motion as one descended into the depths.

Into that dark world fell a flaming meteor, a massive lozenge of plasteel and Adamantium hurtling downwards with unstoppable momentum. It was the Thunderchild and it was on a course into the heart of the planet, diving belly first with all the grace and dignity of a dropped brick. Flames licked around its hull and trailed behind it, the friction of re-entry creating an inferno of heat and light. The searing temperatures created small denotations around the ship, the chemicals of the atmosphere reacting and catalysing in response to the heat. So the Thunderchild fell, trailing fire and dirty black smoke behind it as it plummeted into the unknowable depths.

Aboard her bridge the crew were clinging on for dear life, buffeted and rocked by the violence of the descent. As the ship fell the hull screeched from the violence, shaking the decks and making the whole ship sound like it was screaming. The Serfs wailed to hear the Thunderchild's distress and they cried to the Emperor for deliverance but none of them could make themselves heard over the thunderous noise. The whole deck shook and rattled from the rocking motion of the turbulence, making Servitors sway in their hard points and causing many Serfs to throw up, staining the clean decks with bile.

In the midst of this Captain Toran was holding onto the rail of the command dais, trying not to be thrown from his feet. The descent was as violent as that of a Gunship in combat and he had been forced to Mag-lock his boots to the deck in order to stay upright. Toran knew that the Thunderchild was in deadly danger but there was no other option, if they did not risk all then death was certain.

Toran drew in a breath and shouted, "Report!"

At the Helm Furion was clinging to a console called back, "We are falling fast and we have zero attitude control, if we flip over then were done for!"

Toran barked, "Where are the Dark Eldar?"

Persion had wedged himself into a corner between a console and the Sensorium and called, "Strike Craft have broken off pursuit but the escort frigates are still on our tail!"

At the Engineerium station Bylan was clinging to an impassive Servitor and called, "+The ship's hull is rattling like a dice and external pressure is already beyond 1000-kPa. Captain, she can't take much more of this!+"

Toran looked up at the juddering Hololith, which showed the hazy icons of their pursuers and replied, "She has to, if we pull up now the Dark Eldar will slice us to ribbons. We have to press on until the pressure forces them to break off."

Furion called, "Sir, if we go any deeper I am not sure either the anti-gravs or the manoeuvring thrusters will have enough power to arrest our fall!"

Toran was grim and unrelenting as he ordered, "We have no other options, we press on or we die."

For long minutes the Thunderchild continued to drop, making it seem like they would be falling for eternity. The noise and the shaking filled the world and many Serfs crouched in terror as they felt the certainty of doom overtaking them. Only the presence of their Transhuman masters kept them in line, holding back total panic with their resolute refusal to show fear. Suddenly there was a flash in the Hololith and a dark shape appeared. It was massive and inert, a thick slice of darkness that dwarfed the ship and filled the Hololith. The dark wedge surged towards them and then moved past as the Thunderchild swept by. Toran gasped and shouted, "Light of Terra, what was that?"

Persion called back, "I have no idea, but we almost hit it."

"A rock," called the voice of Magos Castabore, floating freely and calmly in the comforting embrace of her anti-gravs, "A composite of impurities in the atmosphere created by the coagulation of denser materials. It must be porous enough to hold lifting gasses in internal pockets, making it float unsupported in the atmosphere. This conforms to similar phenomenon witnessed in the planet Vespid…"

"Magos!" shouted Chaplain Wrethan from among the serf's stations, "This is neither the time nor the place for a lecture!"

Castabore looked like she was about to retort but then Persion cried, "That's it, the pressure has grown too great. The Dark Eldar can't go any deeper, they're breaking off!"

Toran felt relief sweep over him and he bellowed, "Helm, engage anti-gravs and fire all ventral thrusters, halt the descent now!"

Spurred by his orders the crew fought to obey, struggling with juddering controls to bring the helm under control. The Thunderchild quivered as braking rockets fired and the deck lurched beneath their feet, while great arcane engines came to life and sought to cancel out the giga-tonne mass of the ship. Anti-grav projectors were rarely used outside of dry-dock, but now they were all that stood between the Thunderchild and a crushing death. A terrible sense of weight settled upon everybody, the artificial gravity being unable to totally cancel out the sheer G-forces at play. Read-outs sped by on consoles all around the bridge and Servitors chattered data, reading out velocities and altitudes. Toran looked at the read-outs and saw the numbers still spinning by madly as they plummeted. He could see that the Thunderchild was slowing, but not enough, not nearly enough.

Toran shouted, "Helm, increase power to the thrusters, slow us down."

But Furion bellowed back, "Thrusters are already at maximum!"

From the engineerium Bylan called, "+Hull pressure is increasing, we've just passed 10,000-kPa. The hull is straining to hold itself together+"

Toran gritted his teeth, Imperial starships were built to withstand the titanic stresses of the Warp but they were not intended for atmospheric flight. The foreign pressure would crush this ship if they did not halt their descent immediately. He drew in a breath and ordered, "Cut power to the void shields and weapons, anything we don't absolutely need. Divert everything to the Anti-gravs now!"

The ship shuddered again and the juddering increased as power drained from the artificial gravity generators, leaving them running on minimum power. The descent slowed but Persion called, "We're slowing but not stopping, our momentum is too great, we are still falling."

Magos Castabore called, "Reactor output is too low, we only have seven generators operational, it is not enough."

Frantically Toran opened his vox link to Techmarine Hevostan and called, "Engine room, come in engine room."

Hevostan's voice came back, "Captain we hear you. I know what you want but we're already at the limit, I can't push her any harder."

Toran snarled, "I need more power!"

"I cannot do it Captain," Hevostan reported back snappily, "I'm giving it all she's got!"

Toran's response was cut off as a terrible groan ripped through the hull, the grinding squeal of metal being squeezed by inexorable pressures. The Captain knew that they were mere moments away from being crushed by the mass of the gas giant. He wracked his brain but could think of nothing that could arrest their fall, death seemed inevitable. Suddenly Castabore spun about and excitedly called, "The main drives, their output exceeds that of manoeuvring thrusters, they may be enough to stop us."

Instantly Toran was ordering, "Helm, point the bow upwards and divert power to the main drives!"

Furion leapt into action and the bridge swayed was the whole ship tilted backwards, lowering its stern towards the black depths below. There was a single second that dragged out to eternity and then came the thunderous, blessed roar of the main drives igniting, firing downwards at a forty-five degres. Toran's eyes were fixed upon the readouts and he saw the numbers begin to slow in their tumble, gradually decreasing in their mad spin. Incrementally the numbers dragged past, slowing more with each second that passed. Everybody held their breaths as they watched, waiting for the results to appear. Finally the numbers ground to a halt and then they began to turn back, one by one reversing as the Thunderchild halted its descent and began to climb out of the depths.

Like an oceanic beast the ship slowly lifted itself from the depths, the hull creaking in relief as the pressure began to diminish. Toran sagged in relief as the Thunderchild climbed, standing upon a tail of its own plasma wash. As they rose the sense of alarm began to diminish and the Serfs breathed easily and grinned with the mad smiles of those who had avoided death by the narrowest of margins. Toran waited until they had risen high enough for the hull to stop creaking then opened a private vox link and said to the squad, "Report."

Furion went first saying, "Were holding steady, now we've shed our momentum the engines can raise us up to a safer altitude then we can cut back to minimum thrust and coast on the anti-gravs."

Novak spoke up to say, "Then can we get out of here?"

Furion replied, "On seven reactors… no. We could never make escape velocity, especially not with the drag of this atmosphere."

Jediah interjected, "We don't even have enough spare energy to power up the shields or the majority of the weapon systems. Turbo lasers, plasma annihilators and graviton beamers draw too much power. We are limited to projectile weapons only: Macrocanons, missiles, Bombardment canons and Torpedoes."

Novak shook his head and said, "That's hardly our biggest concern right now."

Jediah replied, "Don't forget there are still Dark Eldar up there, they won't have given up so easily. Sooner or later we will have to fight our way out."

Bylan said, "+But they can't come down here to find us either, we could slip out right from under their noses+"

Novak asked, "Won't they see us?"

Persion snorted and said, "In this soup of an atmosphere, not a chance. We can barely see ourselves and even Xenos sensors have their limits. Once we cut the engines back, and as long as I keep the Auspex in passive mode, they won't have a clue where we are."

Castabore butted in to say, "I am registering several more of those floating rock formations nearby, their mass is considerable, we may be able to use them for cover."

Furion cautioned though, "It would require careful navigation lest we run straight into one but one careless energy surge would be like sending up a signal flare. We will have to be careful not to give ourselves away."

Jediah drew in a breath and said, "So let me get this straight, we are trapped here in this soup of an atmosphere, one reactor short and being hunted by enemies. We can't break back out into space and if the anti-gravs fail then we will fall to be crushed to death at the heart of this planet. And if that's not enough we have no shields and only half our guns, should the Dark Eldar find us we will be cut to ribbons."

"Enough," growled Chaplain Wrethan, "We are Astartes, the inheritors of a long and noble tradition. Did Roboute Guilliman cower when Calth burned? Did Marneus Calgar weep when Hive Fleet Behemoth came for Macragge or the Daemon M'kar arose. Did Chapter Master Koorland quail before the Great Beast or Pedro Kantor tremble at Rynn's World? No they faced the danger unflinchingly and emerged triumphant, as shall we."

"Wise words," said Toran, "We will not shirk from our duty and we will rise from this defeat like a phoenix from the ashes."

Persion asked, "So what do we do?"

Toran declared, "We hold here and redress our wounds, then we find a way to fight back. Work the problem Space Marines, we all know the challenges ahead, now I want practical solutions."

Wrethan declared, "I should go brief the rest of the squads."

Toran shook his head and said, "No, I won't shirk from telling them the truth myself. Wrethan you take command here, I will go and inform them what the situation is and tell them to be ready for anything."