Chapter 178: Titus
Aboard the Ultramarines Strike Cruiser, the Fury of Talassar.
On the bridge, the ship's mortal captain stared nervously at the augur arrays, his eyes tracking the overwhelming numbers of the Tyranid swarm. His brow was deeply furrowed, made stark by the green glow of the hololithic tactical display. He was carefully maintaining the strike force's distance from the Tyranid hive fleet. This vessel was a precious asset of the Ultramarines Chapter, and the captain was responsible for protecting the property of the Angels of Death from harm, and for deploying it judiciously at the critical moment.
The swarm was so vast that the scanner's cursors trembled amidst the overlapping bio-signatures, unable to lock onto individual targets. Beneath that suffocating tide of flesh, a black rift, like a sneering mouth, tore through the planet's atmosphere. It was the profane mark of Chaos, greedily devouring the world's lifeblood.
And caught in this narrow vise, the signal of the Lamenters was heartbreakingly small.
Like a candle guttering in the wind, it still burned with a stubborn defiance.
They were still holding on.
"Lord Titus, we are running out of time," the captain reported to the Ultramarines sergeant standing beside the command throne. His voice was low, his gaze flicking briefly out the main view-portal. "The Tyranid swarm has begun to establish control of low orbit. In twenty-six Terran hours, the probability of a successful Exterminatus deployment will drop precipitously."
On the planet below, the swarm's spore clouds were slowly enveloping the orbital sphere like a putrid shroud.
"The Lamenters Chapter has already sustained enormous casualties," he continued, "yet the rate of population transfer remains low. They need to withdraw."
The captain's throat bobbed. He did not look at Titus immediately, but instead stared at the blinking evacuation signals on the hololith, each one representing mortal lives still fighting for survival.
"The Daughter of Tempests has requested support, asking if we have any additional transport vessels..." His voice was tinged with reluctance. From a purely practical standpoint, committing precious transport capacity to a rescue with no clear path to success was a poor use of resources. And the Lamenters had already lingered on this planet for far too long.
The captain's gaze drifted down to the edge of the tactical console, where the status of the fully-prepped atmospheric incinerator torpedoes was displayed.
The Tactical Primer on Tyranid Warfare had emphasized the Hive Mind's incredible adaptability to virus bombs. The xenos monstrosities could not only resist the most lethal viral agents but could even reabsorb the infected and corrupted biomass, turning it to their own use. This rendered the Exterminatus option that best preserved a planet's resources largely ineffective, sometimes even serving to nourish the swarm.
Thus, in choosing the method of final sanction, Marneus Calgar had favored cyclonic and atmospheric incinerator torpedoes. They had come to this system charged with that sacred duty. A total of five atmospheric incinerators were loaded aboard the strike cruiser. Strike Force Talassar possessed the authority to independently assess the planet's situation and enact Exterminatus.
If this world was to fall into the hands of the xenos, never to be returned to the Master of Mankind, then no one would have it.
"Send them all," Titus said, his eyes fixed on the hololithic display. "Inform the Lamenters that we can wait another thirteen hours. At that time, they must complete their evacuation."
His gaze remained locked on the augur feed, his pupils contracting slightly at the sight of the distorted Chaos signatures. A powerful urge to join the battle, to slaughter the heretics with his own hands, surged within him, but his mountain-like frame remained perfectly still.
He was beginning to understand why the Mortifactors had been in such a hurry to leave.
The relief effort for Estelia was supposed to have been a joint operation between the Mortifactors and the Lamenters. But after both Chapters made planetfall and conducted a rapid rescue of key facilities and populations, the Mortifactors, the primary force, had promptly departed with their portion of the transport fleet, heading to the next planet in need of aid. They had completely ignored the Lamenters' request to remain, taking their fully-laden transports back to the muster point at Kaus, all while informing Strike Force Talassar of the situation on the planet's surface and recommending Exterminatus be carried out as soon as possible.
As for the reason...
Titus leaned his arm on the edge of the tactical console. On the hololith, the staggering numbers of the hive fleet constantly refreshed, but even more disturbing were the intertwined readings of chaotic energy on the planet's surface. The corruption of Slaanesh was spreading across Estelia like a plague. The planet's nobles, unable to evacuate in time, had by some unknown means torn open a great rift, and countless daemons of the Warp were now locked in a chaotic melee with the Tyranids.
The Tyranids, contrary to their usual behaviour, had abandoned their typical consumption tactics and were engaging the creatures of Slaanesh in a near-suicidal war of attrition. It made no sense. According to the Tactical Primer, the passage of a hive fleet left a heavy shadow in the Warp, making it exponentially more difficult for Chaos to exert its influence. Furthermore, the swarm would typically withdraw after encountering heavy resistance and casualties, not dig in as it was doing now. The Primer had proven its authority in battle after battle, which meant there must be other factors at play in this conflict.
Titus was beginning to understand why the Mortifactors had always avoided joint operations with the Lamenters.
The Mortifactors Chapter was viewed with suspicion by the Inquisition, their brother-Chapters, and the High Lords of Terra due to their unique funerary rites and their superstitious practice of collective meditation under their Chaplains to receive omens. But their loyalty to the Imperium was beyond question. They held a deep respect for all who served the Emperor, and they especially revered the martyrs and fallen heroes who died for the Imperial ideal. This reverence served to counterbalance the suspicion caused by their culture, which was so at odds with the Imperial mainstream.
Yet, when it came to the Lamenters, their attitude changed completely.
To be fair, Titus's own impression of the Mortifactors was quite positive. At least they weren't like some of the more hidebound Codex-compliant chapters, who followed Lord Guilliman's writings as unchangeable dogma. The Mortifactors had found a new path under the guidance of their Chaplains. They believed that even as sons of Guilliman, they respected their gene-father just as much as any Ultramarine. But to be shackled by a ten-thousand-year-old tome meant being unable to adapt to a constantly changing galaxy. Any great work, even one as sacred as that of a Primarch, had its historical limitations.
So they had always used the Codex Astartes as a reference, preferring to rely on their own experience and the current conditions to fight their enemies flexibly. Aside from their penchant for collecting skulls for funerary rites, the Mortifactors had a reasonably good reputation.
But even a Chapter like this kept the Lamenters at arm's length. Perhaps it was the difference in their doctrines. Or perhaps the omens they received during their collective meditations had truly shown them something.
"Lord Titus?"
The captain's voice pulled Titus from his deep thoughts. The sergeant looked up sharply, the captain's tense face reflected in his helmet's lenses.
"An Imperial fleet has just entered the system," the captain reported quickly. "They are hailing us."
A soft hiss of intaken air came from under Titus's faceplate. He instinctively tightened his power fist. The battle-lust that had been building with his thoughts receded like a tide. "Patch them through," he commanded, his voice a low rumble.
"This is the Dawnbreakers vessel Dawnlight. I am acting Captain Aurora von Karlox. Angels of Death, I request that you share all battlefield intelligence and a summary of your operational status."
"The Dawnbreakers?" Titus and the captain exchanged a look of surprise.
Due to the vagaries of astrotelepathy and the interference from the Hive Mind's shadow in the warp, none of the mobile fleets in the warzone, including the Mortifactors, had yet received word of reinforcements.
The Dawnbreakers. The core of the new Crusade Fleet. The Chapter of the four lords. Their fame was already legend.
"Is Lord Romulus present?" Titus's voice rose slightly, the servos of his power armour whining as he leaned forward.
There was a brief silence on the comm channel.
"..."
On the bridge of the Dawnlight, Aurora looked at Romulus with a questioning, slightly helpless expression. Ever since the four lords had joined the fleet, all negotiations with other forces had been handled by simply invoking their authority. Her own well-honed diplomatic skills, inherited from her knightly lineage, were entirely useless.
"Don't look at me," Karna replied, busy with his own pre-battle preparations. "They're Ultramarines. You're up." He, along with the Flesh Tearers and the Battle-Sisters, was already aboard a Stormbird, ready to make planetfall at a moment's notice. There was a time for leisure, and a time for readiness.
"Greetings, Titus," Romulus said, shaking his head with a gentle smile as he stepped forward. The hololith projected his image clearly onto the bridge of the Fury of Talassar.
"I am Romulus Quirinus, commander of the Dawnlight Fleet."
His voice was like a calm lake, yet it held an undeniable power. "If you are not at liberty to disclose the contents of your mission, please share the current battlefield situation and inform me who is in command here."
Behind him, his intelligence officers were already rapidly compiling data.
Titus unconsciously straightened his spine, the joints of his power armour hissing softly.
"Of course, my Lord," he replied, his voice filled with genuine respect.
"I will share everything I know."
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