Chapter 10

The tension on the bridge could have been cut with a knife, men going about their duties with a harried and anxious air. The crew knew that they were in deadly peril and that death could come for them at any moment. Only the presence of their Transhuman masters gave them courage, the Space Marines stoic and unwavering in the face of danger. Into that atmosphere ran Captain Toran, his cloak billowing out behind him as he dashed up to the bridge. He pulled up short at the entrance hatch, then composed himself and strode in at a more measured pace, trying to look unconcerned for the crew's benefit.

As he walked in he saw Chaplain Wrethan standing upon the command dais and he quickly leapt up to join him. Toran said, "What's the situation?"

Wrethan replied, "We were manoeuvring around one of those floating rocks when the Auspex detected a Dark Eldar frigate. It's flying well above us in a search pattern, sweeping the whole area."

"Any indications that they've seen us?"

From the Sensorium Persion replied, "None so far, we're a long way beneath them and the atmosphere here is so dense that this murk shrouds our energy signature. We're still in the mass shadow of that rock so as long as we keep our main drives to minimum power they should have no idea that we're here."

Toran looked up at the Hololith which showed a clear, sharp image of a small craft, circling high overhead. It looked like it was sweeping about in a search pattern but something about it set Toran's hackles rising. It took him a moment to realise what was off but then he saw it and said, "Hold on we're right in the murk ourselves, and half-blind, how can we see them if they cant see us?"

Persion answered, "Because the Xenos are practically broadcasting their position with radiating energy and active sensor sweeps. The damned thing is lit up like a yew tree on Sanguinala-eve."

Toran was suspicious, "That is a foolish mistake to make, it's almost too good to be true."

Wrethan looked at him, "You suspect a trap?"

Toran nodded, "One escort, out all on its own to lure us out of cover. Then its friends hide nearby on low power, waiting to pounce on us when we take the bait."

"Not necessarily," came the voice of Magos Castabore floating up to eye level, "I hypothesize that what we are seeing is a consequence of chemicals in the atmosphere reacting to the Xeno's holographic camouflage. It is possible that the interference is disrupting their distortion fields and forcing them to continually reset the projection, creating energy surges in detectable frequencies."

Toran was surprised to hear that, "But if that's the case why don't they just turn the camouflage off?"

Furion looked up from the helm and declared, "Because the arrogant scum refuses to believe that they could make a mistake, that we mere animals could outthink them."

Jediah called from the gunnery pews, "Captain, this is too good a chance to miss; we could make an easy kill right now."

Wrethan mused, "It is certainly a prime opportunity to blood this vessel, she still a war virgin."

"A clean kill could work wonders for the crew's morale," said Toran thoughtfully, "We should strike immediately."

Castabore however said, "Captain Toran, I must request that you delay your attack."

Toran frowned and said, "Why would we do that?"

Castabore explained, "The Xenos' holographic camouflage creates a sensor-distortion field around their ships. This is normally impenetrable, but right now they are constantly resetting the frequency. I believe with careful analysis of the energy harmonics I can establish the baseline coherence pattern that allows them to sustain a stable field. With this I may be able to derive an equation to solve the stability issues with our own masking technology."

Toran took a moment to comprehend her words then he queried, "Are you saying that you think you can use this to get our Reflex Shields working?"

Castabore snapped back testily, "I just said that!"

Wrethan however cautioned, "Captain, I must advise against this, the risks of detection grow with every second. Any delay could endanger the ship, we should strike now."

Persion countered though saying, "But think of the strategic potential Reflex Shields possess, they could be invaluable."

Jediah spat, "They would be useless to us if we're dead, we should strike now."

Everybody paused to look at Toran and he knew that he had to make a decision. He weighed up the tactical value of an immediate strike against the strategic value of the Reflex Shields. He knew it was a risk but then all war was a calculated risk. Toran drew in a breath and said, "We aren't going to win this without an edge, the risks involved are necessary. We will stay under the cover of this rock while Castabore makes her recordings, which will give us a little time. But while we wait we will be far from idle, I want the whole ship made ready to react on a moment's notice. Novak, can the Tech-Adepts beseech the Torpedoes' spirits to track that energy signature?"

From the Ordnance pulpit Novak replied cockily, "They already have."

Toran smiled, "Excellent, then we shall strike at the opportune moment."

The crew set to work and Toran watched them go about their duties. He noted that the duty crew had been changed while he was away, the Serfs exchanging posts with their reliefs. He chided himself for not giving the order himself, for all his self-congratulationsabout caring for mortals he had forgotten that they were not Space Marines. No mere man could stay at his post forever, the crew had to work in shifts to keep the ship at peak operation. There was a tense air about the crew, for they knew that the enemy was right above them and could strike at any moment. Toran could feel it too, like a cold shiver down his spine and the feeling that there were eyes upon him at all times. He was reminded of the time as a boy when his family had sailed their fishing skiff through a shoal of reef-sharks, the man-eating predators were attracted to noise and they loved to capsize small boats to devour the crew. He had crouched in the bottom of the skiff, utterly still and silent while the adults waited anxiously at the sails. Nobody had dared move lest they draw notice and all they could do was drift onwards, praying that they would go unseen and unnoticed.

Toran felt the minutes crawl by, each second feeling like he had a target upon his back and was just waiting for a sniper's bullet. He glanced at Magos Castabore who was excitedly working over several consoles at once, there was no sign that she was finished but he knew that they could not wait for much longer. With every second that passed the risks grew and he knew soon he would have to order the attack regardless of the Magos' work. Just as he was about to make a decision Persion suddenly cried, "Warp Hells, we have a problem. That rock we're hiding under is shifting; it's going to collide with us!"

Toran looked up and saw the vast floating rock drifting their way, tumbling over and over as the hurricane force winds pushed it about. He saw instantly that if they did nothing then the rock would hit them with catastrophic results, but if they moved away then their engines would send up a flare that the Dark Eldar could not possibly miss. Toran made an instant decision and ordered, "Ready weapons, torpedoes on standby. Helm full power to the main drives; take us straight at the enemy."

Castabore yelled, "I need more time!"

But Toran growled, "Times up."

The Thunderchild rumbled to life as the engines pushed it forward, the increased speed buffeting it back and forward as it contested with the howling winds. Toran felt the deck heaving beneath his feet and fixed his eyes upon the Hololith. In the display he could see the Dark Eldar ship drifting above their heads, lazily circling. But then it suddenly span about and dove, headed right at them.

Toran called, "They've seen us, how long until weapon's range?"

Jediah replied, "Accounting for atmospheric drag: thirty seconds."

Toran bit his lip, watching the closing target and knew that without shields the Thunderchild was exposed and vulnerable. One direct hit on an anti-grav and the whole ship would tumble into the depths, to be crushed by the pressure of the gas giant's atmosphere. The seconds dragged out to eternity and then the foe crossed into range and Toran yelled, "Fire Bombardment canons!"

The Thunderchild rocked as the massive guns upon her spine spat building sized shells upwards, arcing slightly in the gravity. Toran watched the display, eagerly anticipating an impact but he was horrified when the icons flashed by and left the foe intact. He snarled, "We missed, how did we miss?"

Jediah called back, "This muck of an atmosphere is screwing up our targeting Spirits!"

Suddenly Persion cried, "Their firing, their firing!" There was a flash of energy and the whole ship rocked, buffeted to one side by a force that shook it like a rattle. Toran grabbed the rail as he was thrown to the side and called, "Damage report, tell me where we were hit? What about the anti-gravs?"

From Enginarium Bylan replied, "We weren't hit, they missed us. That was just the shockwave of the phantom lance igniting gases in the atmosphere; it created a blast wave but did no damage"

Persion swore, "By the Maelstrom, their targeting is as screwed up as ours. It's like having a gunfight in thick fog; we might as well be firing blind!"

Toran snarled, "Well here's something that doesn't need eyes: fire Torpedoes!"

The Thunderchild rocked backwards as six massive cylinders hurtled out from its prow, ship-killing ordnance spearing out into the gaseous mix outside the ship. They angled themselves upwards and blazed away on columns of fire, leaving billowing wakes behind their rears. The Torpedoes curved about as they sought their target, drawn towards the sparking flares of the Shadow-field. Toran watched their path in the Hololith and saw that the Dark Eldar craft was twisting about; trying to evade the strike with grace no Imperial ship could match. It dodged and weaved like a living thing, skipping across the sky in a desperate attempt to side-step the incoming torpedoes.

Toran bit his lip as he watched the scene play out, alien trickery against human engineering, Xeno witchery against pure Machine Spirits. The Dark Eldarcraft twisted and the first torpedo flashed by without hitting it and the second and the third. But the fourth torpedo tracked about, spinning to one side and it collided in a direct impact. Instantly the plasma warhead detonated, creating a brief burst of sunlight in the cold depths. Then all that remained was a cloud of debris, wraithbone and shattered solar sails, spiralling downwards like scattered feathers as the last two torpedoes soared away into the distance.

The bridge of the Thunderchild erupted into cheers, serfs roaring in joy and pumping the air as they shouted huzzahs. Novak joined in crying triumphantly, "A kill, a most definite kill!"

While Wrethan called, "The Divine Emperor has favoured us, the vile Xenos are no match for Imperial might!"

Toran saw the jubilation and triumph on every face and knew it was something the whole crew should share. He commanded, "Pipe me through ship-wide."

After a moment's pause he declared, "Men of the Imperium, now hear this. Today the Thunderchild has drawn its first blood and you have claimed your first kill as her crew. Today this fine ship has proved her superiority over the Xeno's and she shall do so again and again and again. Victory for the Thunderchild, victory for the Emperor!"

He cut the link and could almost hear the cheers ringing in every deck as the crew celebrated. He gave it a moment, then said, "Get us back underway, I want us well out of the area before the other Dark Eldar come looking for their lost craft."

As the Thunderchild heaved away Toran turned to Wrethan and said, "I think this ship has at last revealed her Spirit."

Wrethan said curiously, "What makes you think that?"

Toran answered cheerfully, "Because the Thunderchild is certainly one lucky ship."