Interesting...
Sanguinius' eyes narrowed as he surveyed the proverbial field of battle, their war in the void. And this whole thing was going... really badly. But, in such conflicts, there really wasn't much of a choice. Sacrifice a few million to gain just a sliver of information. The very idea of it weighed heavily over his heart and shoulders. And, once upon a time, Sanguinius would've hesitated to implement such a cruel and callous command. But he was older and wiser now. And not even he could deny its necessity. And so, when he gave the command to consign dozens of ships in a skirmish to ascertain the enemy's weapons and technological prowess, Sanguinius did so with a ladened, but otherwise firm heart.
And, because of that, he got exactly what he wanted – information.
He very much did not like the information he received out of it. This was not the first time he and his brothers encountered a technologically superior human civilization and it likely won't be the last. However, this one was different. Just about every technologically-advanced civilization, at least the ones more advanced than the Imperium, always offered the hand of diplomacy first. And it was only when the diplomatic option fell apart that war was triggered. Here, there were no exchanges of messages or codes, nothing. This civilization, as far as the Imperium was aware, first attacked Angron and his World Eaters, entirely unprovoked.
And, oddly enough, Sanguinius believed his brother, simply because Angron would not lie about such things.
But, then again, Angron was also guilty of doing the exact thing to many other civilizations and so Sanguinius didn't feel too bad about it.
So, here they were, battling a technologically superior foe, knowing almost nothing about their civilization, not even the location of their worlds. In fact, Sanguinius wasn't even entirely certain that they were at all dealing with a human civilization.
That said, Sanguinius now knew that this enemy was not one to be underestimated or taken lightly. Their weapons, whatever those beams of golden light were, were exotic enough to outright ignore void shields and powerful enough to punch through hulls without much issue, boring holes through their ships and disintegrating any man, woman, or Astartes caught in its deadly light. Their shields were strong too, able to take on shots before failing, but nothing so strong as to be impossible to defeat, just stronger than what they were used to. And, even then, their ships were fast – very fast. Not nearly as fast or as nimble as Eldar Crafts, but up there in maneuverability. The Mechanicum would very much enjoy tinkering with such machines when they got their hands on a few samples, though that would have to come much later.
Thus far, it seemed like the enemy preferred a Naval Doctrine that made use of extreme distances, leveraging the incredible range of their weapons. And it worked because even their smallest vessels were equipped with scaled-down versions of their gold-light weapons. The Imperium's only possible response was through the Lance Batteries. Nova Cannons could technically perform similarly if not for their lack of accuracy and, honestly, Sanguinius had no interest in experimental weapons. The problem was that the vessels of their enemy were too nimble and too fast, which, more often than not, caused their Lance Batteries to miss entirely, even if they targeted the largest vessel.
The dexterity of their ships also made boarding actions practically impossible.
Infuriating.
But, of course, they expected this. All the losses were incurred for a noble and honest reason. Even now, Sanguinius had no doubt that his brothers, who were also participating in this naval battle, were learning about their mutual enemy, though – to be honest – Dorne was better at analyzing enemies better than either himself or Rus. So, he'd just have to wait for Dorne to come up with something, to make sense of the chaos. As it was, as Sanguinius understood things, there was no hope for victory unless they discovered the home system of this enemy. Because they were losing. A naval battle in which they outnumbered their opponent 20:1 and they were losing. Not terribly, but enough that even Sanguinius knew how a prolonged battle would end.
They'd lose. Sure, the vessels they'd lost, thus far, were the ones they could afford to lose, but what happened after?
Straight up. They'd need the naval strength of, at the very least, two other legions to break this stalemate and, even then, it was unlikely that the enemy they faced now represented the bulk of the enemy fleet. For all they knew, this was just a scouting force and their enemy had a much larger fleet, hidden somewhere.
The biggest problem, Sanguinius mused, was the ability of their weapons to ignore Void Shields.
"If we can analyze these beams of light enough, then it is entirely possible to calibrate the Void Shields to stop them," His on-board Tech-Magos explained.
And then, the enemy fleet began retreating.
They want us to follow them. Sanguinius's eyes narrowed. Definitely a tactical retreat, but to where?
They'd be fools to take the bait again, but... in accordance to their plan, there really wasn't much of a choice here. They had to engage the enemy long enough to intercept and understand, at the very least, the signals they emitted and where those signals were going. As Dorne had not yet ordered a retreat, it just meant their Mechanicum allies hadn't figured out the enemy's signal yet. And that meant the battle had to continue.
Sanguinius clenched his fists, his wings twitching unconsciously as he watched the tactical retreat unfold. His mind raced with calculations, weighing the risks. He knew what Dorne was likely thinking. They couldn't afford to let the enemy escape, not without gaining more data. Their foe's technology was too far beyond the Imperium's for Sanguinius to be comfortable, and worse still, they had no clear understanding of the enemy's strategic objectives. Letting them slip away could mean giving up the last chance to gain any meaningful advantage in this engagement.
Sanguinius's hand hovered over the command interface, but before he could issue any further instructions, the vox crackled to life with a transmission from his brother.
"Sanguinius," Dorne's voice came through, steady but with an undercurrent of urgency, "Brother, we're not prepared for a full pursuit. I recommend we hold the line and maintain range. I need more time to analyze their movements."
Sanguinius nodded grimly. Dorne, ever the tactician, was right. They had already learned valuable information, but chasing after an enemy that clearly had superior mobility was definitely going to lead them into a trap. Yet, they could not remain passive.
"Understood, brother," Sanguinius replied, his voice calm though tension threaded through it. "We'll hold position and focus on gathering what we can. I don't want to commit the entire fleet to a pursuit yet."
He turned toward his bridge officers, their faces tense but ready for his orders. "Prepare for long-range engagement. Do not pursue. Focus all efforts on gathering any signals, transmissions, or energy signatures. We need to understand how they communicate, how they move. This retreat is a test. Let's see what we can learn."
As his officers began relaying the orders, the fleet shifted, halting its aggressive maneuvers. Instead of pursuing the retreating enemy ships, the Imperial fleet repositioned itself into a more defensive stance, Lance Batteries primed for long-range fire while the Mechanicum servitors and tech-priests aboard every vessel set to work, scanning the void for any trace of communication or tactical signals.
For a moment, the battlefield seemed to hold its breath. The enemy ships continued their retreat, their golden beams of light growing fainter as the distance between the two forces increased. And yet, the enemy wasn't accelerating beyond what was necessary to pull back. They were still inviting pursuit.
Sanguinius leaned forward slightly, his keen eyes tracing the movements of the alien ships. What are you hiding? he thought. They were being far too deliberate in their retreat, as if trying to lure them into a particular range or formation. It wasn't random. What realized right then and there, however, was that the movements of the enemy fleet was too uniform – inhumanly uniform. Not even the Eldar moved with this much precision, this much unity. And that opened up the possibility that, perhaps, they were dealing with non-biological entities or, perhaps, a Hive Mind.
"Status on the Mechanicum's efforts?" he asked sharply.
An officer turned toward him. "They're still triangulating the signals, my lord. It's... difficult. The enemy's signal emissions are unlike anything we've encountered. But they are making progress."
Sanguinius let out a slow breath. Progress was good. But time was not on their side.
As if on cue, another signal came through the vox, this one from the lead ship of Leman Russ. The Wolf King, as ever, was not a fan of waiting.
"Brother," Russ's gruff voice cut through, "We're letting them go. This isn't our way. Let's hunt them down before they can regroup."
Sanguinius knew that Russ's blood was up. The Wolf King was always eager for the kill, preferring action to caution, and this careful dance was chafing at him.
"Not yet, Russ," Sanguinius responded, firm but measured. "We don't know enough. They could be leading us into an ambush, or worse, away from where they truly want to strike."
A low growl of frustration crackled over the vox, but Russ said nothing more. Sanguinius knew his brother would follow the command, even if begrudgingly.
The tension on the bridge mounted as the minutes passed. Reports from various ships came in, confirming that the enemy was still pulling back at a controlled pace. But they weren't firing. That, more than anything, unnerved Sanguinius. A retreating enemy usually laid down covering fire, yet these ships were eerily silent as they slipped away.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the Mechanicum adepts broke the silence. "My lord! We have something."
Sanguinius turned toward the screen, where a complex series of energy waves and signals had appeared. The adept continued. "We've isolated a few key frequencies. It seems the enemy is using some form of tight-beam communication, directed toward the outer edges of this system. We can't decipher the content yet, but we've traced its origin."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Sanguinius's lips. Finally, they had a lead.
"Good. Have we pinpointed the destination of the signals?"
"Not yet, my lord. But we're getting closer."
Sanguinius considered their options. They couldn't chase the retreating enemy fleet, but perhaps this signal would lead them to something far more valuable. A base, a relay point, perhaps even the enemy's home system. The key was patience.
"Maintain position," he ordered. "Continue tracking that signal and prepare for further instructions. And inform Dorne. He'll want to know."
As the crew moved to carry out his commands, Sanguinius allowed himself a moment of reflection. This war was only beginning, but already it felt different from any conflict he had fought before. There was something unknown, something vast, lurking behind this enemy. And while Sanguinius had no doubt that the Imperium would prevail, he could not shake the feeling that the price of victory would be far higher than any of them had anticipated.
He would have to trust in Dorne's genius, Russ's ferocity, and his own judgment to guide them through what was to come. But the battle in the void was far from over. And as more and more golden lances came shooting out of the darkness and the Imperial Fleet returned fire with the dizzying beams of Lance Batteries, Sanguinius knew he had to make a decision.
"They're trying to play us for fools," Dorne's voice came through. "Their signal's jumping to a place dozens of light years beyond this system. They're trying to force us to stay here so that-"
"Multiple Vessels have just entered the system!" One of his accompanying adepts screamed. "Twelve- no, fifteen... twenty... fifty... seventy... two hundred. Two hundred... two hundred hostile vessels! The other fleets are reporting the same thing! They've surrounded us!"
Sanguinius's eyes widened. He gritted his teeth, his wings unfurling.
This was the part of the plan that he vehemently did not like. But, all things considered, Dorne had been correct in his assessment of the enemy and their potential plans. That said, this was going to hurt. And then, the Magos spoke, "Analysis complete. It is possible to recalibrate the Void Shields. Recalibrating now."
For a few moments, Sanguinius watched as the Tech-Magos frantically recalibrated the command module for the Void Shields. Another moment passed, before the shields flared and flickered to life around his vessel. And, just like that, the gold-light weapons were suddenly ineffective - at least, until the shields inevitably overloaded.
Sanguinius smiled. "Broadcast the recalibration information to the rest of the fleet."
"I already have," The Tech-Magos said, before scowling. "The Void Shields are straining. Their weapons are incredible."
Sanguinius nodded. "Then tell the rest of our fleet to reroute energy to their shields. We need to hold out for as long as possible. Return fire whenever you can, but do not pursue or engage."
And then, the enemy stopped firing their weapons. And all was still and silent.
"Lord Primarch," The captain of the vessel suddenly said. "We've received a... a message from the enemy."
AN: Chapter 47 is out on (Pat)reon!