V3 Chapter 72: A Duel Between Two Legion Flagships, Ten Thousand Years Overdue
As the two fleets closed the distance between them, the fighting in the void climbed steadily toward its most vicious pitch.
Built around the Macragge's Honour and the Conqueror, the Imperial and Chaos main fleets unleashed their full firepower almost as one. Macrocannon shells crossed thousands of kilometres of void to slam into enemy hulls, lances of light tore through void shields, and torpedoes and fighter craft in great numbers wove between the opposing lines.
A Chaos escort was run through by several lances of light and split apart at the centre of its hull. On the other side, an Imperial cruiser's void shields buckled under sustained bombardment, and were soon torn open by dense cannon fire, gouging several enormous breaches into its flank.
The Macragge's Honour and the Conqueror, two Gloriana-class battleships both dating back to the Great Crusade, had at last arrived at a duel ten thousand years overdue.
On the Conqueror's bridge, Kosorax sat on his flesh-covered command throne, forcing himself to bear the growing pain inside his skull.
"Press on!"
His roar carried across the entire bridge.
"Every ship, keep advancing! Close the distance! Break their line!"
"I want death carried down to that world!"
Kosorax rose from the throne, and through his blood-red vision it seemed he could already see the blood soaking Badab Prime.
So long as his warriors could make landfall.
So long as enough people died.
The Red Angel would hear the call.
But just then, that familiar figure appeared on the bridge once more.
The Lady stood not far from the throne, her hands still clasped behind her back.
She looked out at the battlefield ahead.
"Halt the assault."
Kosorax's head snapped around.
The Lady's voice remained calm, yet carried an unmistakable note of reproach.
"The enemy outnumbers us in ships."
"A frontal push will only add to fleet losses."
"The fleet should manoeuvre round, find the weak points in the enemy line, and concentrate fire to break through there instead."
Kosorax stared fixedly at her.
"No."
The Lady went on issuing orders, calm as ever. "Order the fleet to adjust speed and angle of attack, to maximise damage..."
"..."
"The fleet is to adjust formation at once."
"No! No! NO!!!"
Kosorax could no longer hold back his fury.
He exploded off the command throne and swung his chain-axe hard at the Lady's head.
The whining teeth of the blade passed straight through the figure.
The Lady's spectral form scattered at once.
Yet her voice still echoed across the bridge.
"A foolish order only produces meaningless losses."
Kosorax stood breathing hard. "SHUT UP!"
He wheeled around toward Mogliva.
"Take forced control of the Conqueror!"
"I don't care how you do it, just get this damned ship charging at the Macragge's Honour, full speed!"
The Warpsmith did not hesitate.
"Lord. It will be done."
All around the bridge, the twisted, corrupted machinery began letting out a shrill screech.
The Conqueror was resisting.
The old warship still strained to obey the Lady's judgement, but Mogliva forced through a takeover of part of its power systems.
A violent tremor soon rolled through the entire vessel.
The Conqueror finally, if only for the moment, gave way.
Its vast main engines began pushing to greater output, and the great Gloriana-class vessel drove straight for the Macragge's Honour through a storm of gunfire.
The Imperial fleet soon read its intent.
More fire converged on the space around the Conqueror.
Its void shields flickered again and again.
An escort tried to block an Imperial cruiser's fire and was torn clean in half for its trouble.
The Chaos fleet returned fire in kind.
Losses mounted on both sides without pause.
The five Slaughter-class Cruisers accelerated to screen the Conqueror's flanks, while the Devastation-class Cruisers launched further fighter wings, trying to suppress the Imperial fleet's intercepting strength.
The distance kept closing.
Ten thousand kilometres.
Both bridges could now make out, through their viewports, the blurred outline and engine-glow of the great ship bearing down from afar.
Kosorax stood before the throne.
"The Conqueror holds the Macragge's Honour."
"Every other warship, escort the transports through the blockade."
"Get every last one you can down to Badab Prime!"
The cruisers and escorts moved swiftly to change course.
Aboard the transports behind them, thousands of Khornate Astartes and millions of mortal cultists had already worked themselves into a frenzy.
The moment they reached orbit, the moment a landing window opened, they would surge down toward the world below.
Eight thousand kilometres.
Six thousand kilometres.
The Imperial fleet's fire grew denser by the moment.
Four thousand kilometres.
The Conqueror's hull shuddered violently once more; part of its void shields had already overloaded.
Three thousand kilometres.
Kosorax could now even make out the flare of the Macragge's Honour's guns firing.
He spread his arms wide.
"Now!"
"Fire the Beast Claws!"
Armoured housings along the Conqueror's flanks opened all at once.
Sixteen massive Beast Claws shot out into the void, dragging chains of adamantium behind them.
The Macragge's Honour's point-defence guns opened up at once to intercept them.
Several of the claws were destroyed mid-flight.
The rest kept coming.
In the end, eight Beast Claws punched through the remaining fire and drove hard into the Macragge's Honour's hull.
The chains snapped taut in an instant.
Both Gloriana-class vessels shuddered violently, together.
Duvette stood in the strategic command room.
A tremor far more violent than anything before it hit without warning.
The deck jolted hard beneath his feet, and a moment later the adamantium keel running the length of the Macragge's Honour let out a shrill groan.
Duvette's brow furrowed.
"What was that?"
Evan snatched up a data-slate at once.
His expression quickly turned grim.
"The enemy's latched onto us with some kind of massive hooks trailing iron chains."
"Both ships are pulling against each other right now."
Duvette looked at him.
Evan went on. "The Conqueror's winching the chains tight. Our thrusters can't fully break free of the drag. The distance between us is still closing."
Duvette understood at once.
"Beast Claws?"
It was one of the Conqueror's most distinctive weapons.
The claws could punch straight through an enemy hull, then use the massive chains trailing behind them to forcibly haul the two ships closer together.
Then the World Eaters would launch their boarding assault.
Like a beast clamped onto its prey's throat, slowly choking the life from it.
Duvette's expression turned slightly strange.
Boarding the Macragge's Honour, with Guilliman himself aboard?
Had these people's Nails flared so badly they'd forgotten exactly what a Primarch actually was?
But he set the question aside quickly enough.
Guilliman was right there on the ship.
If any World Eaters actually made it aboard, they would be the ones with cause to worry first.
Duvette looked to Evan.
"What about the rest of their ships?"
Evan pulled up a new tactical projection at once.
"The Conqueror's now less than three thousand kilometres from us."
He pointed to another sector.
"The rest of their cruisers have started peeling away from the flagship engagement, escorting a large number of transports in a suicide rush."
Duvette watched the fast-moving markers.
Kosorax had never intended to complete a landing through the Conqueror at all.
His flagship's job was to pin down the Macragge's Honour, while the rest of his fleet escorted his Astartes and mortal host in a forced breach of the blockade.
Under these conditions, not even the strongest Imperial fleet could stop every last transport.
Some portion of the enemy would inevitably make it to the surface.
Duvette asked, his voice low. "What's the state of Badab Prime right now?"
Evan answered. "The plague outbreaks in all four under-hives have been contained, but they can't be fully cleared yet."
"Chapter Master Huron has already brought his remaining fifteen hundred Astral Claws to full combat readiness."
Duvette nodded.
He looked at the great mass of enemy vessels closing on Badab Prime across the holographic star chart.
"Tell them."
"The enemy will be here soon."
Evan looked to him.
Duvette's expression stayed calm.
"Tell them not to worry."
"They're about to get some real strength behind them."