Saeva Abyssi: Chapter 20

The Thunderchild hung low in the depths, coasting along on minimal power. She was drifting freely on the wind and letting the planet take her where it will, supported only by the arcane energies of the anti-gravs. Her crenellations and gun batteries were stained with chemicals from the atmosphere and there were scars on her bulk, running along her spine. She was lying low, waiting for the right sign to spring into action.

On her bridge the crew waited with baited breath, each man taught with anticipation of the action to come. Captain Toran was stood in his customary place, holding onto the railing of the command dais as he watched the Hololith. He was scouring the image for any sign of the enemy, but there was nothing, only a single blip flying in wide circles.

Toran drew in a breath and called, "Sensorium, any sign of the last Dark Eldar craft?"

Persion replied, "None sir, if they're out there then they are being sneaky about it."

Toran sighed and said, "Status of the decoy?"

Castabore called back, "Xenos technology is an offence to the Omnissiah, yet the servitors I left aboard are keeping it circling and the distress call is set on a repeating cycle. It should look like they are disabled and are calling for help."

"Excellent work," said Toran, "Keep it stable and helpless."

He sighed to himself, growing frustrated himself. They had been lying in wait for almost a whole day but there had been no sign of the enemy and he could tell the crew were getting impatient. They couldn't wait forever, no matter how much they wanted to.

From the Engineerium pit Bylan asked, "+Captain, could we at least raise shields?+"

"No," Toran replied, "The energy signature would be too great, we need to stay quiet and undetected until that last frigate shows its face."

From the helm Furion called, "Captain, I also have concerns about the anti-gravs, they've been running continuously for a long time. We can't stay down here forever, we need to break orbit sooner rather than later."

Toran answered, "We cannot leave yet, we have to destroy the last of our pursuers before we can leave."

"About that," Novak interjected, "What are we going to do about those cruisers in orbit? We are still heavily outgunned."

"I have a plan," replied Toran pointedly eyeing Magos Castabore, "But let us concentrate on the matter at hand."

Wrethan declared, "We should not let haste spoil a good ambush, the enemy must be taken by surprise for this to work."

However Castabore spoke up saying, "I too would not recommend staying here much longer, I am picking up increased wind shear and violent perturbations of the atmosphere. I believe a storm front is closing upon this region, one of significant power."

"Is that a cause for concern?" Toran asked, "This is a starship after all."

Castabore did not sound reassuring as she said, "And this is a gas-giant, storm fronts here surpass anything seen on terrestrial worlds. The Great Red Spot on Jupiter has persisted for forty-thousand years and can reach wind speeds of over seven hundred kilometres per hour and temperatures of over sixteen hundred degrees Kelvin."

"Very well," Toran sighed, "You have all made your points; if the Dark Eldar do not show up soon, then we will move on before the storm front gets here."

The bridge crew relaxed at that and were about to begin preparations but Persion looked concerned and peered at a console saying, "Captain, we are detecting a disturbance…"

Before he could complete his sentence there was the sudden shriek of an alarm and the whole bridge heaved violently to one side, tiling down and across as the Thunderchild rocked under a terrific impact. Bylan cried, "+We're hit, we're hit! That was a Phantom Lance!+"

"We didn't find them," roared Persion, "They found us!"

Toran pulled himself upright and was already yelling orders, "Reactors to full power, raise shields, power up the main drives and set Auspex to active sweeps, I want to see what's out there."

The Thunderchild roused itself for battle, shields snapping on around its hull. It had been caught off guard but it was far from defeated. A great gash in its upper hull bled energy, debris and bodies but the ship was still in the fight and it still had all its guns. The great leviathan rose from the depths, billowing clouds of gas parting around it as its prow soared higher and the air shimmered with power from its void shields igniting.

On the bridge Toran called, "Where are they?"

Persion replied, "There they are, off the starboard bow. They are moving fast, looks like their running out to make space for another pass."

"How did they find us?" called Novak.

"They must have known it was a trap," Toran muttered but inside he was cursing himself for a fool. He knew exactly what had happened: he had made a mistake. He had assumed that the Dark Eldar would respond to a distress call the same way a human would, the way he would. He had thought that they would come running to help their beleaguered kin, yet these were not humans and they did not react as humans would. Their most likely response to seeing a distress call would be to laugh and jeer. The fact that the lost ship had bothered to send a distress call at all was probably the first clue they had that this was a trap.

Persion called, "They're lining up, coming in for another attack run!"

Toran growled, "Their mistake, Weapons Batteries give them a volley."

Along the flanks of the Thunderchild the weapon batteries lit up, throwing waves of destruction out into the sky. A torrent of shells, missiles, las and grav-beams spat forth, turning a whole part of the sky into a maelstrom of violence. Yet the Dark Eldar craft manoeuvred expertly, weaving and spinning around the explosions to avoid every single one and it emerged unscathed.

On the Bridge Jediah bellowed in frustration, "Bloody Eldar, stand still so we can hit you!"

Persion cut across him shouting, "They're firing!"

The Thunderchild rocked again and Bylan cried, "+Direct hit to starboard shields, Captain they aimed for the anti-gravs. If we hadn't got our shields up in time they would have sent us into the endless deep+"

"Dammit, this one is good," growled Toran, "Right let's show them what we can do. They're running out again, helm come to a new heading: hard-a-starboard. Ordnance, ready torpedoes!"

The Thunderchild lurched under their feet as the bow swung around, tracking the Dark Eldar craft. Long seconds crawled by until the lines were right and then Toran called, "Fire!" The whole ship shook as six cylinders ejected from the prow, they tore into the gaseous mists tracking for targets and seeking out the enemy.

Toran watched their progress in the Hololith, gripping tightly to the rail and muttering, "Come on, come on, come on."

But Persion called, "Enemy ship is releasing something, it's making a lot of noise. I think it's some form of decoy drone."

As Toran watched the Torpedoes veered off course, arcing away from the Dark Eldar craft and chasing the tiny little blip. They closed upon it like a cluster of arrowheads, inexorably chasing it down, ignorant of its nature. Then in a flash of light they impacted, blowing the decoy to atoms in a conflagration of fire.

"Warp hells," Persion swore, "They're coming around again, lining up for another pass!"

Toran roared, "Brace for Impact!"

Serfs raced to obey, locking down systems and reinforcing structural integrity fields across the ship in readiness. Barely had they managed to bring the ship to stations when the Dark Eldar fired again and the Thunderchild rocked under the impact. Men clung to their stations as the deck heaved and Bylan shouted, "+Direct hit, shields are buckling!+"

Toran snarled, "Bombardment canons, return fire!"

But Jediah responded, "They're moving too fast, we can't get a lock on."

Toran looked up and saw that he was right, the Dark Eldar were already sprinting away. There was an obscene grace about their movements, a speed and daring that put lumbering Imperial ships to shame. Toran's anger rose and he shouted, "We can't beat them like this, we have to turn the tables. Novak, launch the Thunderhawks!"

"Aye Captain," Novak called as serfs frantically signalled the gunships to launch. Toran saw a slew of tiny icons appear, the Astartes strike craft spilling out of the Thunderchild's bay and forming up into squadrons. As he watched they leapt away, chasing the elusive Dark Eldar craft like mastiffs after a hare. The Dark Eldar spun and weaved but the Thunderhawks were faster and they soon closed the distance. Yet just as they were about to commence an attack run the Hololith flared and a score of tiny dots appeared. Persion called, "They're launching strike craft of their own!"

Wrethan spat incredulously, "What?! No craft that small could support fighters."

"Apparently they can," growled Toran watching the icons hurtle towards the Thunderhawks. He expected them to engage the gunships in a whirling dogfight but was shocked when they passed by without pausing. Completely ignoring the threat to their mothership in favour of another target.

"What's happening?" Toran barked in confusion.

Persion examined the consoles around him and said, "They aren't engaging the gunships at all, they're heading our way."

Toran's jaw dropped as he realised the truth and Wrethan frowned to see his shock, the Chaplain asked, "What is it?"

"You were right, those aren't fighters. They're boarding pods," Toran gasped then he yelled, "Get those Thunderhawks turned around now, stop the pods!"

Novak hastened to comply and the gunships broke off their attack run, reversing course in a desperate attempt to intercept the boarding pods. Unfortunately, Toran could see that it was far too late, the pods had too big a lead and would reach the Thunderchild first.

Furion called up, "Captain, should we dive the ship? The pressure…"

"We don't have enough time," Toran cried, "Fire point-defence turrets now!"

The hull of the Thunderchild erupted up with scores of tracers, blazing out from all over the ship in flurries of lights. They crawled out into the darkness, creating a web of destructive power that sought to encapsulate the closing pods. Toran watched the pods weave and dive, the tiny icons jittering before his eyes as they tried to evade the incoming barrage.

He could see that they were good, both fast and agile but they weren't perfect and as he watched three, no four icons winked out in succession. They were torn apart in the flurries of destruction, spilling bodies out into the murky atmosphere. Yet sadly the rest were unaffected and flew on to contact the hull. The Thunderchild rang as the boarding pods impacted, stabbing into the thick armour and burrowing in like ticks on a stray. Drillheads gouged holes into the plating and grasping claws pulled them downwards, penetrating into the crew spaces. Then blast doors slid open to allow the occupant ingress.

On the bridge Bylan called, "+Breaches, we have breaches on decks eleven, fourteen, seventeen and twenty-nine. Serfs report contact with boarding parties but they're not Dark Eldar. The reports speak of some form of mutants+"

Toran hit the rail in frustration and called, "Alert Third Company and tell them to move to repel boarders. Chaplain Wrethan you have the bridge, keep that accursed craft off us."

"You're not staying?" Wrethan said in disbelief.

"No, you remain here, all other Brothers with me," declared Toran drawing his sword, "Come Brothers, so long as we draw breath nobody is going to take our ship away from us."