Herald of the Stars: Chapter Two Hundred and Sixty-Six

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I send out the orders and my teleporters are triggered a second time, each atomic detonating next to a Warp drive.

My spell, Disrupting the Empyrean, is shattered and the Novis Coven Link’s safeties trigger, cutting me off from Reina. Annoyed at my oversight, I wait for the arcanotech device to reset. Once the device reboots, I attempt to re-establish the coven link, yet all I get is static.

Thwarted by the intense interference, I peer into the Warp as best I can with my third eye. Twelve breaches scar the Materium where exploding Warp drives have overloaded the boundary between the two realms. Gouts of golden flame scour the void. Demons, traitors, slaves, and sacrifices dissipate to ash, for in death, their allegiance matters little. The gods, be they Anathema or Chaos, consume them all.

For the next 2:46 hours I fret over the status of my void craft and Reina’s mortal coil while I wait for the light to reach us. The shockwave hits us and Torchbearer’s sensors go haywire, overloading my cyberbrain with a wash of confusing signals. It takes a minute for the disruption to dissipate and I get a good image of The Wolfpack.

All twelve escorts are gone, their remains swept into the Warp to join some hulk in the distant future-past.

The remaining capital ships are still present and have taken no further damage that I can detect from this range. I am confident that their shields, sensors and weapons are offline though. Their formation has changed and they now form an arrow.

Excrucian, barely touched by the carnage, holds the point. Gift of Despair and Mortis Ex Astra hold port and starboard, their crumbling Cathedrals and cracked Castelums still glowing with heat from the atomics that detonated within them.

Optimus Nemesis lags behind the rest by five thousand kilometres, struggling to keep pace, even after the other vessels have slowed their velocity to one gravity. Its super structures are equally crippled as the other two cruisers.

My Battle Automata continue to broadcast, their numbers diminished yet still causing havoc. I suspect that the capital ships are low on crew and troops, their numbers spent on capturing Spear of Commerce.

Directed by Reina, or the next senior officer available, my void craft return for another swing at the Wolfpack, picking off weapons and shields, the capital ships near helpless against the assault. 

Much to my surprise more troops are deployed. I match the shuttle identities to their manifests and realise that not only are Penal Light Infantry getting deployed with their minders, but also the Heralds among the Battle Automata regiment are being deployed too.

That isn’t part of my plan at all. The voidcraft retreat and, to my great relief, I receive a vox message from Reina.

“My Lord, the Warp here is in turmoil and I can see little beyond the golden flames of Saint Alpia. Having witnessed her purifying might on the hulls of the wretched traitors, and unable to return to Disrupting the Empyrean without your overwhelming guidance, I have ordered another strike on the capital ships to destroy their Gellar Fields. It is my hope that, stripped from their foul protections, Karrad Vall’s remaining vessels will not dare the Warp lest their hulls be purified by the Emperor’s merciful wrath.

“I know that these actions may displease you. The love you hold your people is well known and in turn, they fear your disappointment. Their hearts burn bright with fury at the thought of giving the slightest chance that these malignant raiders might escape their overdue sentence. 

“Your senior Heralds were quick to agree this was the best course of action and have set to their task with unrelenting zeal, all in accordance with the overarching goal of your previous orders. They departed with prayers upon their lips, knowing most will not return. Master Psyker Reina Benetek, over.”

Reina is correct, I am not happy about spending more lives when I could have finished the capital ships off with my vanguard fleet. She’s also right that I would hate it even more if The Wolfpack escaped and has a good plan. There is some risk that they will commit suicide at take my surviving Heralds with them, but even then, it would still be worth it. 

The escorts are, at best, disruptive; they offer Karrad Vall flexibility in his raids. Four capital ships are a spectacular prize. Destroying them would be an overwhelming victory.

I vox back, “Message acknowledged. Recalibration approved. Maintain strike craft bombardment. Proceed with Gellar Field destruction, then withdraw all organic forces and return to Stellar Fleet SOL. Do not take further risks. May the Omnissiah witness your glory. Issengrund out.”

I could ask them to go for the Enginariums and other vital systems too. I don’t think it’s worth the extra attrition though. The remaining Automata might still manage it, especially on the cruisers, but The Wolfpack’s flagship, Excrucian, is far too resilient. Its teleportation protections suggest that they have a Chaos Sorcerer and perhaps some Warp Witches as well. I don’t want to give them time to unleash a memetic hazard, plague, or some other corrupting abomination among my Heralds. 

Far better to destroy what they can and get out of there. Praise the Machine-God that my Heralds can read and actually know what a Gellar Field generator looks like, and where it has to be to work properly, or my forces might all die before they found out wherever the generators are buried within those monstrous vessels.

Four hours later, the shuttles swoop back in and retreat with my remaining soldiers. Reina sends another vox confirming their triumph. They also send some excellent maps of the vessels’ internal structures. I send them to the bridge for analysis. There is no need for me to plot a bombardment plan when I have others trained to deal with such minutiae.

The strike-craft have also done their best to destroy the capital ships’ weapon batteries and shield emitters with moderate success. The Sagitta and Macross don’t have the firepower for it, struggling to chip away at the massive guns and hab-block sized emitters, their dense armour brushing off their assault even with a dozen attack runs. 

The Vitrum are far more successful, their titan sized forward weaponry boring through the capital ships’ armour with relative ease, taking out all of the lances, leaving only a few macro-cannons to fire on my fleet. Macro-cannons lose significant accuracy at long range; my vanguard fleet should be able to butcher the capital ships using their prow lances and missile launchers with minimal risk. There should be no need to approach closer and use my plasma and macro-cannons as well.

My primary ego is drawn back to Footfall as two Sword-Class frigates pull away from the station and burn hard for the Macro Conveyor, Spear of Commerce. Karrad Vall’s surviving strike craft destroy the shield stations protecting Footfall then chase after the frigates. 

A vox message plays in my mind as the Imperial forces finally deign to talk to me, three days after my arrival in the system.

“Magos Issengrund, I am Emil Astoris, Commodore of Battlefleet Koronus. My apologies for the delay in communications. Many of my senior officers were ambushed while on shore leave and I myself have been subject to no less than eight assassination attempts in the past four days. 

“My Tech-Priests refused to contact you when it is clear you are already here to assist us. They feared infecting your vessels with scrap code while our own Machine-Spirits still battled with infocytes and other entities within the noosphere. Our systems are now clear, yet I urge caution. This Faceless Lord is a canny foe.

“My peer, Caspiel Hafas, Fleet Master of Tithe-Fleet Calixis, sent his final message an hour ago, just as Spear of Commerce’s bridge was breached. He confirmed the presence of Karrad Vall, though no description was given. It is unknown why Fleet Master Hafas knew who Karrad Vall was as there are no surviving records of his appearance. There is far more to this assault than I can see at present and, for once in my life, I dare say I am relieved to see the Inquisition.

“Two of my own vessels have been captured, taking many of Karrad Vall’s remaining forces with them, yet Footfall remains in turmoil: 

“Tanthus Moross is not responding to communications. The Drusians have sallied with their forces, turning upon The Tutors. The Black Brotherhood are as divided as ever, opposing all forces, their objectives unknown. 

“Kasballica Mission and Obsidian Emporial are sticking to their own territories. They have struck at Karrad Vall’s forces whenever they stray too close, but otherwise offered no assistance. 

“The Astral Knives have not been seen, though reports of multiple ritualistic killings across the station, especially the Red Schola, implies they are the most active they have been in decades.

“Little news of the Seven Witches has reached us, only that they were attacked, seemingly by the Black Brotherhood. Who gave them the courage to attack a psyker coven is beyond me.

“With your relief force almost here, I have begun coordinating with Force Commander Odhran and Herald Primarus Noake to secure Battlefleet Koronus and Tithe Fleet Calixis, then retake the station.

“I am most grateful for your aid and look forward to toasting you with a shared bottle of my best amasec in the near future. Commodore Emil Astoris, over and out.”

I fold my arms and stare at the armourglass walls of the Warp Sextant tank and consider the information I have been given. If one were uncharitable, they would say that Emil only bothered to tell me what was happening when two of his vessels were lost and it became clear he needed help. 

Emil then pushed suspicion upon his peer, Caspiel Hafas, and told me everyone else was a useless traitor who failed to come to his aid, even though he likely never asked for assistance. Last, he suggested that victory was inevitable and that we are friends. Everything about him screams political appointee, rather than strategic mastermind. 

I could be reading too much between the lines. Emil could be genuine but I doubt it. I do think his message is accurate as it is easy to cross reference and slim in details. The only information I am certain of is that there’s skullduggery afoot, and it’s not Brian lying on the floor because he got too excited and forgot to charge himself again.

Far as I am from Footfall, there really isn’t anything I can do about it. With the original Wolfpack near disabled, I am reduced to an observer once again as I wait for my vanguard fleet and capital ships to sync back up, now that my deceptive fleet manoeuvres have played out.

I have a communication link to the relief force via a Psy-Erant. He can’t send data, just verbal reports, as he’s not an Astropath. There is also one Space Marine Librarian on Footfall and another on Red Knoll. My link via the Librarians is slower due to the current distance between Torchbearer and Red Knoll. The Barghests are not verbose either. The vox delay is considerable, though it will continue to improve as we approach.

Over the next two days, the conflict unfolds into a confusing mess of ambushes, sieges, and bloody assaults.

Battlefleet Koronus’ five remaining void ships are docked around the macro statue of the Emperor. The captured frigates have docked within Spear of Commerce, much like how my escorts used to spend much of their time hidden inside Iron Crane. 

I’m surprised Spear of Commerce has a big enough hangar for that as there is little need to build them so large without purpose. Perhaps Spear of Commerce routinely transports large void ship components? I can always find out later if I really want to know.

Spear of Commerce is on fire and shedding debris and smoke as it withdraws from Footfall at a glacial 0.5 gravities. There is no way to tell how fierce the fires are, but they can’t be crippling or the frigates would undock.

Five of Tithe Fleet Koronus’s remaining six vessels are docked with the Hab-Fanes where most of the poorer inhabitants of Footfall live. The four Carrack-Class transports and Dauntless-Class light cruiser are neighbours with an absolutely ancient Galaxy-Class Armed Freighter. 

I really didn’t think I would ever see one of those as they’ve long since been replaced by the ubiquitous and unimaginatively named Imperial Transport, the blandest voidship to ever leave Mars’ design committees. The Galaxy is a lot more interesting and looks more like a wedge of cheese, or the hour hand of an analogue clock, rather than stubby engines and a ram, connected with a series of paired cylinders like the Imperial Transport does.

One Endeavour-Class light cruiser berthed at the Liege’s Court. This is where the commander of a fleet usually docks to be welcomed by the Liege of Footfall, Tanthus Moross. It’s marked as belonging to Tithe Fleet Calixis, implying Tithe Master Caspiel Hafas should have been there, not on Spear of Commerce when it was captured. 

Perhaps Emil was correct to suspect Caspiel.

Two Jericho-Class Pilgrims are docked with the Chapel of the Congregants. 

Four vessels are docked with the Red Schola where most of the slave trading on the station takes place. There’s one Havoc-Class Merchant Raider, they’re almost always pirate ships. The Tarask-Class Merchantman is a common vessel that, unlike the Galaxy-Class, has had its design repeatedly updated to stay relevant. There are no hints to its allegiance. 

The Heavy Transport is another mystery. They’re the bigger cousins of the Imperial Transport. Rather than approximately the size of a heavy escort vessel, they’re on par with a Lunar-Class cruiser. Their most common cargo is ore, though they can carry any bulky cargo in their cavernous holds. Despite its size, a Heavy Transport is poorly armed and almost always accompanied by other vessels.

Last is an Orion-Class Star Clipper, the same class of vessel as Whisper of the Void that the Silent Sisters are using.

The Space Marines and Penitents deploy at the Red Schola. My Mechanised Infantry and Void Assault regiments board Tithe-Fleet Calixis and Battlefleet Koronus as well as the Hab-Fanes and Macro statue of the Emperor. Minimal aid is sent to the Liege’s Court.

I am left near irrelevant as I watch the conflict unfold. I’m finally living the dream, multiple AU from the frontlines.

I loathe and delight in every moment of it like the contradictory Human I am.