V3 Chapter 45: What Do You Mean the Enemy Is Destroying My Warships with Boarding Actions?
Hektarren Sautekh sat on the command throne of the Silent Tithe.
He was a Sautekh Overlord, Tomb Lord of Sertakht, guardian of the blackstone silence node, and the lawful ruler of the territories once called Vulcantia and Cereris. At least in his own records and those of his royal archive, these two worlds had never belonged to the short-lived surface races.
The Silent Tithe was a Scythe-class harvester ship, currently positioned near Vulcantia's inner orbital zone.
The vessel's concealment systems covered the entire hull, suppressing the majority of energy signatures.
Another superluminal solid projectile detonated in the distance.
The powerful round fell near the coordinates the Silent Tithe had occupied moments before. The blast radius was sufficient to shred the fleet formations of many lesser races. But it illuminated only empty space, and the expanding detonation cloud dispersed into the void and found nothing.
Hektarren settled back on his throne and produced a metallic sound that served as laughter.
"There. They are firing at a shadow again."
Beside him, Tomb Cryptek Septarakh looked down at the hovering data array.
"My lord, the enemy vessel count continues to increase. Their rear formations are still adjusting position."
"Yes, yes. Quite a number of them."
Hektarren raised one metal finger in a languid gesture.
"Like the colonies of insects on the surface who took our worlds. Wave after wave, climbing up, burning, collapsing, then replaced by the next batch."
Septarakh did not respond.
Hektarren continued. "Beyond that, what can they do? The lesser creatures on Vulcantia's surface are clinging to life behind their shell-structures, resisting our legions with a collection of low-grade semi-automated machines. Now they have come with more shells and more machines."
He looked up at the system projection above the bridge.
Four Scythe-class harvester ships were distributed across different approach angles near Vulcantia's inner orbital zone, with a dozen-odd Shroud-class light cruisers and smaller raider vessels threading the outer positions. The blackstone silence node was still operating, providing fire control calibration while suppressing the human fleet's communications and long-range detection.
Hektarren had no particular urgency about destroying the lesser races.
He would sooner spend more time with these simple toys than involve himself prematurely in the internal struggles of the dynasty.
Deep within the Sautekh Dynasty, many tomb worlds were awakening, and their Phaeron had been lost to the long passage of time. Many ancient nobles were recalculating their loyalties and their claims to succession, and the shadow beside the Phaeron's seat was growing longer.
He had no interest in contesting that position.
He had no desire to commit to any faction prematurely either.
The method by which he had survived this long was simple: observe until the advantage had settled clearly, then offer his protocol, his legions, and his fleet to whoever held the greatest position.
Tomb Cryptek Septarakh had long grown accustomed to his master's digressions.
He simply interjected with occasional distance readouts and casualty summaries, to ensure Hektarren did not allow contentment to blind him to the approaching fleet.
"The long-range salvo from the four harvester ships produced appreciable results. Enemy outer support vessel loss rate is high, and at least one large warship has been disabled."
Septarakh paused.
"However, the enemy fleet's total count is excessive. The lead capital ships carry high-density shielding that our long-range fire has not been able to effectively penetrate."
The green light in Hektarren's eyes brightened slightly.
"Continue."
"If we maintain current range, we can continue to inflict attrition. However, the enemy is advancing and is conducting area fire based on our firing trajectories. My lord, we may wish to withdraw and reestablish distance."
A brief silence fell on the bridge.
"Withdraw?"
Hektarren finally stopped producing commentary about the lesser races.
He straightened on the throne and looked at the red markers approaching steadily on the system chart in front of him.
"We encountered this same behaviour when we were first disturbed. The conventional cannons of these lesser races' ships sometimes cannot achieve effective ablation even on our hull plating. Now they simply have more of them, and they are louder."
Septarakh said quietly: "Their numbers are sufficient to cover for the inaccuracy."
"The orbital position is not to be surrendered."
Hektarren rose.
"The primary tomb complex beneath Vulcantia is still completing its restart sequence. The Cereris node is still active. If we withdraw from orbit, their landing window will expand."
He raised his metal staff and pointed toward the Imperial fleet's direction.
"All vessels, prepare to receive engagement."
The command propagated silently through the fleet protocol.
The four Scythe-class harvester ships began adjusting their positions. The Shroud-class light cruisers contracted toward the flanks. Along the hull of the Silent Tithe, green runes lit in sequence, and the gauss flux arc arrays and lightning arc systems recharged.
When the distance closed to within a hundred thousand kilometres, the Imperial fleet delivered its first major torpedo salvo.
Rows of torpedoes burst from the flanks of cruisers and battleships, forming a dense attack wave through the void. They pushed toward the Necron fleet trailing propulsion flares, numerous enough to foreclose large-scale manoeuvring in the affected volume.
Hektarren looked at the incoming tracks with open contempt.
"When they close, deal with that refuse."
As the torpedoes approached, dense green lightning arcs extended from the outer hulls of several harvester ships.
They swept through the void, striking the lead torpedo waves. Explosions bloomed in rapid succession, and many torpedoes were destroyed before reaching effective range. The debris and plasma light formed a broken detonation belt through the void.
A small number of torpedoes penetrated the intercept zone.
They did not strike the harvester ships. But they forced two Shroud-class light cruisers to alter course prematurely. The Imperial fleet captured the movement, and nova cannon and lance fire shifted to cover the new trajectory.
On the Macragge's Honour's bridge, Guilliman watched the distant detonation belt in silence.
"Reduce advance speed."
"Fleet disperses. Do not present the enemy's lightning arcs with continuous chained targets."
"Capital ships maintain pressure. Outer formations spread out and attempt to envelop the enemy fleet."
His adjutants relayed the orders immediately.
The Imperial fleet began reforming.
The five primary capital ships pressed forward, their overlapping void shield coverage forming the assault face. The battlecruisers and cruiser groups spread wide on both flanks. Astartes battle barges and strike cruisers probed forward on other bearings, looking for angles to push closer.
Once the range closed inside sixty thousand kilometres, both sides' main warships entered a more stable fire exchange window.
The Imperial fleet fired first.
Lances stabbed out from battleships and cruisers. The macro-cannon barrage followed. Shells, plasma beams, and nova cannon predicted-area fire poured across the zones the Necron fleet was operating in. The numerical disparity was stark.
The Necron fleet's headcount was far below that of the Imperial crusade fleet.
But they did not collapse.
The Silent Tithe and the other three Scythe-class harvester ships returned fire simultaneously. Gauss flux arcs swept between the warship formations. High-energy ion beams and lightning arcs tore through the void shields of Imperial escort craft and drove several light cruisers that had approached too closely back out of formation.
Guilliman quickly identified where the real difficulty lay.
It was not that the enemy ships could not be hit at all. Lances were scoring glancing damage, and nova cannon fire was forcing course corrections.
The problem was that the Imperial fire control systems could not maintain continuous target solutions.
The Necron hull suppression field was blocking most of the energy signatures. Clear readings only appeared briefly when a vessel fired, changed speed, or turned. By the time Imperial gunnery officers had computed a new firing solution, the target readout had moved out of the projected zone, and macro-cannon barrages were consistently falling on wrong prediction points.
Their course changes were not as extreme as Aeldari warships.
But the timing of every acceleration and change of bearing was very precise.
Worse was the issue of the hulls themselves.
Several lances struck the flank of a Scythe-class harvester ship and burned through the outer hull plating. But the ablated living metal began closing almost immediately, and the augur arrays recorded an unknown energy field reconstructing the struck area.
The next salvo from the same angle produced measurably less damage.
The Tech-Priests' explanation was laden with uncertainty: the enemy hull and its energy deflection field appeared to be adapting its local structure based on the damage data it was receiving.
Guilliman's expression grew steadily more serious.
Since the engagement had begun, he had reassessed this xenos fleet's threat level multiple times.
This enemy force was vastly outnumbered by the crusade fleet, yet had sustained its position through hull concealment, long-range gauss flux arcs, lightning arcs, living metal repair, and precise manoeuvring. The combat value of each individual enemy vessel was far beyond any comparable-tonnage Imperial warship.
Duvette said quietly from nearby: "My lord, what we are facing is very likely not their primary fleet. Based on what I have seen so far, I see nothing consistent with what Archmagos Cawl described as their capital ship-tier assets."
Guilliman glanced at him.
"Understood."
His voice was level, but his expression was not pleasant.
"Even several vessels of this tonnage have produced this level of threat. Their assessment rating must be revised."
He looked back at the tactical star chart.
"Continue the pressure. Do not give them the opportunity to reestablish range."
On the Silent Tithe, the atmosphere had shifted.
Hektarren had stopped laughing.
The crude, heavy, ear-splitting warships of the lesser races did, it turned out, have meaningful firepower. Particularly at the density they were now deploying, they were able to compress the Necron fleet's manoeuvring space with area fire zone by zone.
Several Shroud-class light cruisers had been destroyed.
One had its stern torn open by a nova cannon near-detonation and was then burned through by concentrated lance fire. Another, covering a harvester ship's course change, was caught in a macro-cannon barrage and the living metal had not repaired fast enough. It broke in two in the void.
Septarakh reported quietly: "The enemy is deliberately working to isolate our formation elements."
Hektarren did not answer.
Because the Imperial fleet was still closing.
The nearest warship groups had pushed to within six thousand kilometres. On an interstellar scale, this was effectively point-blank range.
Several Astartes battle barges showed no sign of stopping.
Their void shields were flickering under gauss flux arc impacts. Occasional beams were getting through and striking the hulls. And yet those ships continued pushing forward, as though they had no particular opinion about whether the next salvo would punch through the hull entirely.
Hektarren finally produced another cold sound.
"What do they think they are doing? Coming in to ram us?"
He looked at the blue markers on the star chart, continuing to close.
"Lesser races, truly."
But this time, his contempt carried something new beneath it.
A significant portion of Vulcantia's orbital position had already been ceded under pressure.
The Imperial capital ships had pushed the Necron fleet out from the inner orbital zone, and several combat groups were attempting to cut off the harvester ships' mutual support. To Hektarren, the execution was crude, even foolish in the way lesser races were foolish.
But he had begun thinking about withdrawal.
His vessels were not to be destroyed in this kind of engagement.
These harvester ships belonged to his royal holdings. They were not to be spent against a pack of lesser races who had simply broken into his system.
At that moment, an Imperial formation pressed toward one of the Scythe-class harvester ships at a distance from the Silent Tithe.
That harvester ship had just completed a gauss flux arc salvo. Three Astartes battle barges with a strike cruiser and other naval support vessels closed from different bearings, and the identification markers of the Novamarines, the Genesis Chapter, and the Aurora Chapter appeared in sequence on the edge of the hololithic chart.
Septarakh raised his head abruptly.
"My lord. Anomalous intrusion."
Hektarren turned toward him.
"Specify."
"External personnel have entered the interior of the harvester ship using unknown teleportation technology."
Hektarren paused.
"What?"
Septarakh's mechanical voice did not change.
"Enemy boarding units have entered the vicinity of the weapons control zone."
"Boarding action?"
For the first time, genuine confusion entered Hektarren's voice.
"How has this primitive tactic appeared in this kind of void engagement?"
Septarakh continued the report: "Enemy high-speed vehicles are approaching the hull breach points. Assessment: boarding torpedoes and assault craft. They are attempting to introduce additional forces from the exterior."
Hektarren looked at the internal readings from the struck harvester ship.
Several defensive nodes near the teleportation entry points were activating. But the enemy appeared to have no intention of attempting to occupy the whole ship. They were driving directly toward the phase dispersal matrices and the power conduit junctions.
Hektarren had had enough.
"All vessels, withdraw."
Septarakh confirmed the order immediately.
"Abandon the orbital position?"
"Preserve the fleet."
Hektarren's voice had gone cold.
"Let the ground phalanxes continue holding them. I have no further interest in playing with these lunatics."
The withdrawal protocol activated.
Along the edges of the Necron vessels in the void, the hulls began to blur at their boundaries. On the Imperial fire control screens, mass readings dropped in layers. Heat signatures remained present but appeared to be folding into another coordinate system.
Green runes went dark from bow to stern in sequence.
The Silent Tithe's outline faded on the star chart, and then the ship vanished from its position entirely. The other harvester ships and the remaining Shroud-class light cruisers followed one by one into phase withdrawal, leaving behind only expanding detonation clouds and the wreckage of destroyed vessels.
But the Scythe-class harvester ship that the Astartes battle barges had come in close against did not successfully leave.
Its hull had begun to fade when it shuddered violently in the next instant.
Internal detonations spread from the weapons control zone outward to the phase dispersal matrix. Green light tore a breach along the mid-section, and the entire vessel fell back out of its half-dissolved state and into realspace.
Then the second explosion occurred.
The outer hull was driven open from within. The living metal fought to close the breaches but was torn apart by sequential energy detonations. The vessel did not immediately break apart, but it had lost all capacity to complete the phase withdrawal.
On the Macragge's Honour's bridge, the noise stopped.
Guilliman looked at the engagement on the star chart that had ended so abruptly, and his expression was not good.
The Imperial crusade fleet had held an overwhelming numerical advantage. The combined total of capital ships, cruisers, battle barges, and escort vessels had vastly exceeded the enemy's count. And yet they had absorbed a significant cost, and in the end had destroyed only a handful of small Necron warships and, through a boarding action, retained one enemy capital ship in place.
This was not what a victory of this magnitude should feel like.
One of the Mechanicus priest representatives had already taken a step forward.
"Revered Primarch, permit the Adeptus Mechanicus to recover that xenos vessel. Its research value is considerable."
Another Tech-Priest from the forge worlds of Triplex Phall added immediately: "If we can seal the core structure intact, we can provide technical analysis for the campaigns ahead."
Guilliman looked at the crippled Scythe-class harvester ship.
"Seal the wreck," he said.
"Before any Mechanicus personnel enter, it is to be placed under joint supervision of the expeditionary force, Astartes, and Inquisition representatives."
A brief quiet settled over the bridge.
Duvette stood not far away and let out a quiet breath.
No Cairn-class tomb ship after all.
If there had been, Guilliman would probably have had to board it himself.