+++In the darkness of the Perseus Deeps Imperial rule is weak. Imperial Navy patrols are the only thing which stands between humanity and chaos...+++
The Hunt For Red Slaughter
The incessant rumble emanating from the massive engines echoed around the metal decks of the sword class Valiant as she came to her new heading. Captain Langsdorf stood stiffly at his post aware of the oppressive presence of the commissar behind him.
“Well done captain, we have the traitor cornered at last.”
Langsdorff was surprised by the praise from Herman Kreuzer, it was the first he’d received from the usually acidic tongue of his ship’s commissar since his arrival barely two weeks ago.
The captain bristled inside as he recollected the first moment Kreuzer had come aboard, determined to root out the apparent cowardice in the ship’s senior staff. A charge levelled at him by the petty captain Voight of the Lurcher for his part in the recent disaster of convoy PX17.
There was nothing Langsdorf could have done, even the admiral agreed. By the time the Valiant had returned from her forward picket the five chaos raiders had already destroyed the transport vessels and the Lurcher was facing overwhelming odds. Langsdorf and the Valiant could not have helped and the captain found himself wishing the other convoy escort had been destroyed rather than crippled. That way that bastard Voight would not have filed his complaint.
But it was too late now. Langsdorf and his crew of just over a thousand were stuck with the tall hawk featured commissar for the duration, until he decided the captain and crew were fit to serve on one of his emperor’s vessels.
“Communication from the Revenge sir,” said the Valiant’s communications officer.
“Put it through mister Heinz.”
The crackling hiss of static distorted the words of captain Maher, master of the escort squadron’s other sword class frigate.
“Ah Langsdorf!” Maher’s voice was full of enthusiasm as the realisation that the quarry had finally been brought to heel. “We have him now! I am on an intercept course and ready to follow Valiant’s lead.”
Langsdorf allowed himself to smile. The chase had been hard. For seven days the Red Slaughter had led the two imperial ships a merry dance around the Castius system, but now the infidel raider had been cornered at last. Venting gases from her engines the traitor vessel could outrun imperial justice no longer and captain Langsdorf eagerly anticipated the battle which would surely clear his name.
“Indeed captain Maher, our time is at hand.”
With a hearty chuckle the captain of the Revenge signed off. Several thousand kilometres off the Valiant’s starboard bow the second frigate would now be straining hard to intercept the enemy vessel, an angry flashing icon picked out in blood red on the Valiant’s tactical display. There would be no escape.
+++
Captain Lucius Maher, veteran ship’s master for the past twenty years, shifted in his captain’s chair, wondering for the thousandth time why the Navy didn’t provide suitable seats for men of a more ample build. Adjusting his position he regarded his bridge crew with pride. The atmosphere was one of tense anticipation. Maher could not deny he was looking forward to the destruction of the Slaughter, a renegade raider that had been responsible for thousands of Imperial deaths, including his good friend captain Denham of the Chrysalis.
+++
“Captain,” said first officer Krauss, leaning over his display lectern, “the traitor vessel has changed course.”
“Then change ours to intercept,” said Langsdorf curtly. He should not have to give an order twice.
“My apologies sir, but he is heading for the Castius belt.”
Irritation rose in Langsdorf’s mind and the captain fingered his short moustache and beard, now fully grey after thirty years in the navy. Filled with plasma and dust the Castius belt spelled danger for any vessel traversing it. Void shields would be useless and targeting arrays would be confused by the belt’s massive electromagnetic fields. Despite everything the captain of the Valiant had to admire his counterpart on the traitor vessel. He obviously knew what he was doing.
The bridge became quiet as the crew waited for the captain’s next order, save for the continual hum of the engines and whirring of logic engines. Langsdorf could feel the gaze of the commissar behind him. Fingering his ornately braided collar, as he was wont to do when major decisions had to be made, Langsdorf considered his options. Wait it out or pursue at full speed? The former would certainly reek of over-cautiousness, not something Langsdorf needed right now, but the latter invited possible disaster to his ship
and crew, Commissar Kreuzer cleared his throat.
“Presumably you aren’t about to let the traitor escape?” He asked quietly.
The decision had all but been made for him, realised Langsdorf with considerable frustration.
“Of course not commissar,” came the stiff reply, “helmsman, alter course to intercept.”
First officer Krauss raised an eyebrow but knew better than to question the captain’s orders. Thirty-three year old Krauss had served under Langsdorf for six years and knew the position the captain now found himself in.
The huge vessel heaved over onto its new course, gaining on its target with every minute, but the marker on the display marking the chaos ship shimmered and winked in and out of existence as the vessel entered the edges of the confused dust cloud of the Castius belt. Still, with the range down to a few thousand kilometres captain Langsdorf was confident the mission could still be achieved.
“Captain, incoming transmission.”
It was Maher. Langsdorf signalled wordlessly for the communications officer to put it through.
“Langsdorf, are you sure we should follow him into the belt? We can wait him out. He can’t stay in there forever.”
“I’m sure captain Maher, if we don’t follow the traitor could disengage and yet escape. I’m not prepared to let that happen.”
There was a pause while Maher considered his reply. Langsdorf and he were the same
rank, but it was Langsdorf who commanded the sword squadron.
“As you wish captain, I will intercept in approximately twelve minutes. Maher out.”
At least the commissar would not be able to level accusations of cowardice this time.
Time slowed for the men on the Valiant’s bridge as the distance closed. Soon the enemy would be in weapons range and feel the wrath of the sword’s massive forward gun batteries. Combined with the firepower of the Revenge, the traitor vessel Red Slaughter stood no chance.
+++
Maher exchanged a look with his first officer. Following the chaos ship into the belt was a bad plan, and the old captain knew it. From the pacing of his number one Maher was aware his views were shared but it was Langsdorf’s decision.
“Helmsman,” said Maher, “time to belt at current speed?”
“Nine minutes captain”, came the reply.
Maher exhaled heavily, his oversized navy uniform relaxing on the captain’s bulky frame. He nodded and signalled to his first officer. Maher’s number one approached the captain’s chair.
“I don’t want any foul ups in there number one.” Said Maher quietly so no-one else on the Revenge’s bridge could hear.
The first officer nodded.
“Its that damn commissar making Langsdorf do this captain.”
Maher sighed. Imperial commissars had no place on a Navy ship in his opinion.
+++
“Master gunner, how long till maximum weapons range?” Asked Langsdorf.
“Nine minutes.”
About the same time the quarry would enter the belt reasoned Langsdorf. Looking at the tactical display the blue icon of the Revenge was also closing fast and would soon be entering the mass of gas and dust. For a moment Langsdorf wondered whether having both imperial ships pursue the Red Slaughter into the confusion of the belt would be wise, but he knew that only together would they be sure of the kill. Minutes passed and the range reduced, but the enemy vessel was still out of range.
“Dammit can’t we go any quicker.” Said the captain, glancing with frustration at adept Lucius, master engineer and priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Though rhetorical, adept Lucius chose to reply, his flat emotionless voice in stark contrast to the tension filling the Valiant’s bridge.
“We are at maximum speed captain. The engines are working at their full capacity.”
The reply did nothing to ease the captain’s nerves and he wished he hadn’t asked. Commissar Kreuzer sighed ever so slightly behind the captain’s lectern, infuriating Langsdorf.
“Enemy vessel entering the belt captain,” said the first officer.
Langsdorf watched the display as the icon representing the Red Slaughter flickered then winked out of existence. Leaning over the thick glass screen he clenched his fists and groaned. The sensors had failed as predicted. The only way to pick up the trail now was to follow the vessel in and get close. Too close for Langsdorf’s liking.
“Thirty seconds to the belt.”
Langsdorf acknowledged his first officer with a cursory wave without looking up from the display. The ships automated systems began to take over, lowering the adamantium blast shields over the forward viewing windows in preparation for entering the belt. The blackness of deep space shrank and was then shut out as the shields closed with a heavy metallic clang.
“Entering the Castius belt now sir,” said Krauss.
Lansdorf watched with a feeling of dread as all the icons on the display vanished, leaving only the blue eagle in its centre representing the Valiant herself.
“Communications non functional captain.”
“Void shields ineffective.”
The reports came in from his senior staff with implacable predictability. This was bound to happen. His ship was now blind and defenceless. Why did he follow the chaos renegade in here? Minutes passed and Langsdorf’s frustration grew.
“I think you’ve lost her captain,” said commissar Kreuzer with a marked hint of disapproval.
Captain Langsdorf slowly turned to face his tormenter, the colour burning in his cheeks. Seeing the captain’s pent up rage the commissar retreated a step. Langsdorf returned to the display. Where was the traitor vessel?
+++
Shimmering dust and gas shrouded the Revenge as the pitted armoured prow of the Sword class frigate pushed its way through the Castius Belt. On the bridge captain Maher and his first officer stood leaning over the main tactical lectern in the centre of the room, directly below the decorated vaulted ceiling. Both men were frowning.
“Bloody nothing. You see that?”
First officer Callum had to agree. The tactical display on the Revenge was indeed blank, but swearing and getting red-faced, as Maher was, wasn’t going to change that. However after serving with the old man for ten years Callum was used to such outbursts.
“Throne of Earth! We’re blind in here!”
Callum didn’t reply, knowing the captain was relieving his frustration in his own unique way.
After a few more curse filled seconds the first officer’s attention was drawn to a brief flash on the display. It wasn’t there long but for a second a white icon had appeared of the stern of the ship.
“Captain, I think there is something else in here.”
Maher stopped mid stride as he paced up and down the bridge. Returning to the display lectern he saw the same icon appear, briefly glowing white, indicating a vessel only a couple of hundred kilometres distant. Then, as the two naval officers watched, the icon appeared again, this time glowing blue. Without taking his eyes off the display Maher gave his orders.
“Comms, get me Langsdorf.”
“Communications are being blocked by interference,” came the immediate reply.
Maher’s eyes locked with those of his first officer noting his look of concern was shared by his number one. The Valiant was directly behind Revenge and there was no way of knowing whether Langsdorf could see them.
+++
A flicker of light flashed into existence on the Valiant’s tactical screen, glowing white just a few hundred kilometres off the ship’s port bow. Krauss noticed first and shouted to his captain, his voice quavering with excitement.
“Vessel at 340 degrees captain! Range, three hundred kilometres.We have a firing solution.”
“Wait,” commanded Langsdorf, “We must await target verification.”
Langsdorf willed the flickering white icon to glow red, identifying it as an enemy, but the change would not come. If he waited too long the target lock might be lost.
“Sir, range increasing to four hundred kilometres. It must be the Red Slaughter.”
“We have to be sure.”
Commissar Kreuzer strode forward impatiently, standing beside the captain, his face dark and insistent.
“Captain Langsdorf,” he said, “must I remind you of your sacred duty to the emperor? You have the enemy in sight, you must open fire!”
“I am still in command of this ship,” hissed the captain, “I will not fire on an unidentified vessel!”
All eyes were fixed on the confrontation in the centre of the Valiant’s dimly lit bridge. Only the mindless servitors, wired into their posts, continued their duties. First officer Krauss looked nervously from Kreuzer to Langsdorf while the gunnery officer stood ready to unleash the devastating firepower of the frigate’s forward batteries.
“Range five hundred kilometres, course 340,” said Krauss, “captain, it’s the Slaughter, it must be.”
The commissar leaned over the captain’s lectern, bringing his stern face inches from Langsdorf’s, his whisper audible only to the captain.
“If you do not open fire, captain, you’re career in this navy will be over. I will have you court-martialled for cowardice!”
The words stung Langsdorf to his very core, but the commissar had left him no choice. He held the commissar’s gaze for a few seconds before returning to the tactical display. The icon was still flashing white indicating an unidentified target. It had to be their quarry. From its course and speed there was no way it could be anything else could it? In any case Kreuzer had left him no choice. With an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach the captain gave the only order he could.
“Open fire.”
+++
“Energy spike directly astern!”
Maher noted the edge in the young lieutenant’s voice, indicating his fear.
“Comms?” Asked the captain desperately, looking over to the officer manning the communications console.
Taking the heavy headphones off his ears the lieutenant looked at his captain with a look which made Maher sick to his stomach. They couldn’t raise the Valiant. Idiots! Couldn’t they see the Red Slaughter must have disengaged?
“The Valiant’s firing sir!”
Maher quickly returned to his chair, followed by his first officer.
“All hands brace for impact, helmsman take evasive action!”
The crew followed their captain’s orders without question, activity breaking the atmosphere of fear and tension on the Revenge’s bridge, but Maher knew it wouldn’t do any good. They were too close and their shields were inoperative. Only a miracle would save his ship now.
“By the Emperor get me Langsdorf!”
+++
On the Valiant the tension of the bridge immediately evaporated in the frenetic activity that followed as the crew carried out their duty. Having given the order to engage the captain became an island of calm in a sea of barked orders and shouts. With a mighty shudder the Valiant’s forward guns opened fire, rocking the ship and causing the lights to flicker. Again and again the batteries fired, sending thousands of high velocity projectiles slicing through the void. At this range they couldn’t miss. The icon on the display screen flashed orange then grey, indicating a kill.
+++
As the first volley impacted with the unprotected stern of the Revenge the bridge rocked violently, sending anyone not seated sprawling to the cold mosaic-patterned floor.
“Damage report!” Barked Maher.
First officer Callum frowned as he struggled to take in the information flashing in red and yellow across his screen.
“We’ve lost engines and aspect control captain. Another shot like that and we’re done for.”
As if Captain Maher didn’t know.
“Valiant’s firing again captain!”
Maher waited in grim resignation as he imagined the massive projectiles slicing through the gas and dust, covering the distance between the two ships in mere seconds. There was nothing he could do now.
The second volley of fire from the Valiant hit the Revenge along the length of her port side, rupturing the ship’s armour and spilling atmosphere out into the vacuum of space. Hundreds died in the initial impact but more suffered an agonising death as the breath was sucked from their lungs as the pressurised compartments vented into the void. Secondary explosions tore the ship apart, splitting the mighty vessel in two, sending the aft portion spinning away from the prow, plasma and gasses pouring from the wounds torn in the Revenge’s hull.
The ship’s bridge was a scene of total chaos. With the artificial gravity gone crewmen struggled to stay at their posts. Many were screaming but most were still trying to carry out their duty and wrestle some control over the convulsing ruins of their doomed vessel.
“Shut down the main reactor”, screamed captain Maher over the deafening roar of explosions emanating from the heart of his ship, “We must disengage!”
“It’s too late”, roared the first officer, “We must abandon…”
First officer Callum’s words were sucked from his throat as a devastating explosion ripped through the command section, buckling the adamantium walls and blasting an ugly gaping hole in the side of the bridge. Many of the bridge crew were sucked, still alive, into space, their screams rendered silent in the vacuum of space.
Those who clung on suffered no better fate as superheated plasma escaping from the ruptured power core vaporised them in seconds. Less than a minute later all the bridge crew were dead. They were lucky. In the twisted wreckage of the Revenge’s two drifting sections men still lived, doomed to a slow death as their oxygen ran out in the still sealed compartments of the forward weapons decks.
+++
The guns ceased firing and several of the bridge crew cheered the victory. They had gone in after the chaos renegade where the traitors had thought they wouldn’t be followed. Red Slaughter had paid for that arrogance. Even commissar Kreuzer was smiling.
The one man not rejoicing was captain Langsdorf. For him the victory was hollow having been forced into the action by the unwanted intervention of the commissariat. The captain sighed and ordered the ship about to investigate the drifting wreck of the enemy vessel.
“Open blast shields, let’s get a visual conformation of the kill.”
The crew complied with their usual efficiency with which Langsdorf was highly satisfied. Slowly the vast metal sheets retracted revealing a scene of devastation set to a backdrop of shimmering orange and red, the colour of the Castius deeps. There was no question the guns of the Valiant had done their job. Floating in the void the hulk in front of them had been broken in two by the fury of the ship’s fusillade. Wreckage floated listlessly in space as the ship’s broken sections burned with internal fires, the armoured prow blackened and pitted by the impacts of the Valiant’s weaponry.
Armoured prow? Horror gripped Langsdorf as he stared in disbelief at the wreck drifting across the prow of his ship. Gradually the triumphant cheering on the bridge was silenced as every man stared in shock at the scene of carnage. As the Valiant passed within ten kilometres of the devastation the nameplate of the vessel spun into view. It read simply Revenge.
Sweating profusely with his eyes wide in disbelief, commissar Kreuzer turned to face the captain of the Valiant, his trembling hands brandishing a laspistol levelled at Langsdorf’s head.
“Captain Langsdorf,” said the commissar, struggling to stop his voice from cracking,
“You have failed in your duty to the emperor and destroyed on of the imperial navy’s vessels.”
Captain Langsdorf managed a smile. Of course it would turn out like this. In the heat of battle his fears of being labelled a coward had allowed him to act against his judgement. It didn’t matter that the commissar practically ordered him to open fire on an unidentified vessel. Straightening his uniform and holding his head high Langsdorf accepted the inevitable.
“Long live the Imperium.” He said before the shot rang out.
The Hunt For Red Slaughter
The incessant rumble emanating from the massive engines echoed around the metal decks of the sword class Valiant as she came to her new heading. Captain Langsdorf stood stiffly at his post aware of the oppressive presence of the commissar behind him.
“Well done captain, we have the traitor cornered at last.”
Langsdorff was surprised by the praise from Herman Kreuzer, it was the first he’d received from the usually acidic tongue of his ship’s commissar since his arrival barely two weeks ago.
The captain bristled inside as he recollected the first moment Kreuzer had come aboard, determined to root out the apparent cowardice in the ship’s senior staff. A charge levelled at him by the petty captain Voight of the Lurcher for his part in the recent disaster of convoy PX17.
There was nothing Langsdorf could have done, even the admiral agreed. By the time the Valiant had returned from her forward picket the five chaos raiders had already destroyed the transport vessels and the Lurcher was facing overwhelming odds. Langsdorf and the Valiant could not have helped and the captain found himself wishing the other convoy escort had been destroyed rather than crippled. That way that bastard Voight would not have filed his complaint.
But it was too late now. Langsdorf and his crew of just over a thousand were stuck with the tall hawk featured commissar for the duration, until he decided the captain and crew were fit to serve on one of his emperor’s vessels.
“Communication from the Revenge sir,” said the Valiant’s communications officer.
“Put it through mister Heinz.”
The crackling hiss of static distorted the words of captain Maher, master of the escort squadron’s other sword class frigate.
“Ah Langsdorf!” Maher’s voice was full of enthusiasm as the realisation that the quarry had finally been brought to heel. “We have him now! I am on an intercept course and ready to follow Valiant’s lead.”
Langsdorf allowed himself to smile. The chase had been hard. For seven days the Red Slaughter had led the two imperial ships a merry dance around the Castius system, but now the infidel raider had been cornered at last. Venting gases from her engines the traitor vessel could outrun imperial justice no longer and captain Langsdorf eagerly anticipated the battle which would surely clear his name.
“Indeed captain Maher, our time is at hand.”
With a hearty chuckle the captain of the Revenge signed off. Several thousand kilometres off the Valiant’s starboard bow the second frigate would now be straining hard to intercept the enemy vessel, an angry flashing icon picked out in blood red on the Valiant’s tactical display. There would be no escape.
+++
Captain Lucius Maher, veteran ship’s master for the past twenty years, shifted in his captain’s chair, wondering for the thousandth time why the Navy didn’t provide suitable seats for men of a more ample build. Adjusting his position he regarded his bridge crew with pride. The atmosphere was one of tense anticipation. Maher could not deny he was looking forward to the destruction of the Slaughter, a renegade raider that had been responsible for thousands of Imperial deaths, including his good friend captain Denham of the Chrysalis.
+++
“Captain,” said first officer Krauss, leaning over his display lectern, “the traitor vessel has changed course.”
“Then change ours to intercept,” said Langsdorf curtly. He should not have to give an order twice.
“My apologies sir, but he is heading for the Castius belt.”
Irritation rose in Langsdorf’s mind and the captain fingered his short moustache and beard, now fully grey after thirty years in the navy. Filled with plasma and dust the Castius belt spelled danger for any vessel traversing it. Void shields would be useless and targeting arrays would be confused by the belt’s massive electromagnetic fields. Despite everything the captain of the Valiant had to admire his counterpart on the traitor vessel. He obviously knew what he was doing.
The bridge became quiet as the crew waited for the captain’s next order, save for the continual hum of the engines and whirring of logic engines. Langsdorf could feel the gaze of the commissar behind him. Fingering his ornately braided collar, as he was wont to do when major decisions had to be made, Langsdorf considered his options. Wait it out or pursue at full speed? The former would certainly reek of over-cautiousness, not something Langsdorf needed right now, but the latter invited possible disaster to his ship
and crew, Commissar Kreuzer cleared his throat.
“Presumably you aren’t about to let the traitor escape?” He asked quietly.
The decision had all but been made for him, realised Langsdorf with considerable frustration.
“Of course not commissar,” came the stiff reply, “helmsman, alter course to intercept.”
First officer Krauss raised an eyebrow but knew better than to question the captain’s orders. Thirty-three year old Krauss had served under Langsdorf for six years and knew the position the captain now found himself in.
The huge vessel heaved over onto its new course, gaining on its target with every minute, but the marker on the display marking the chaos ship shimmered and winked in and out of existence as the vessel entered the edges of the confused dust cloud of the Castius belt. Still, with the range down to a few thousand kilometres captain Langsdorf was confident the mission could still be achieved.
“Captain, incoming transmission.”
It was Maher. Langsdorf signalled wordlessly for the communications officer to put it through.
“Langsdorf, are you sure we should follow him into the belt? We can wait him out. He can’t stay in there forever.”
“I’m sure captain Maher, if we don’t follow the traitor could disengage and yet escape. I’m not prepared to let that happen.”
There was a pause while Maher considered his reply. Langsdorf and he were the same
rank, but it was Langsdorf who commanded the sword squadron.
“As you wish captain, I will intercept in approximately twelve minutes. Maher out.”
At least the commissar would not be able to level accusations of cowardice this time.
Time slowed for the men on the Valiant’s bridge as the distance closed. Soon the enemy would be in weapons range and feel the wrath of the sword’s massive forward gun batteries. Combined with the firepower of the Revenge, the traitor vessel Red Slaughter stood no chance.
+++
Maher exchanged a look with his first officer. Following the chaos ship into the belt was a bad plan, and the old captain knew it. From the pacing of his number one Maher was aware his views were shared but it was Langsdorf’s decision.
“Helmsman,” said Maher, “time to belt at current speed?”
“Nine minutes captain”, came the reply.
Maher exhaled heavily, his oversized navy uniform relaxing on the captain’s bulky frame. He nodded and signalled to his first officer. Maher’s number one approached the captain’s chair.
“I don’t want any foul ups in there number one.” Said Maher quietly so no-one else on the Revenge’s bridge could hear.
The first officer nodded.
“Its that damn commissar making Langsdorf do this captain.”
Maher sighed. Imperial commissars had no place on a Navy ship in his opinion.
+++
“Master gunner, how long till maximum weapons range?” Asked Langsdorf.
“Nine minutes.”
About the same time the quarry would enter the belt reasoned Langsdorf. Looking at the tactical display the blue icon of the Revenge was also closing fast and would soon be entering the mass of gas and dust. For a moment Langsdorf wondered whether having both imperial ships pursue the Red Slaughter into the confusion of the belt would be wise, but he knew that only together would they be sure of the kill. Minutes passed and the range reduced, but the enemy vessel was still out of range.
“Dammit can’t we go any quicker.” Said the captain, glancing with frustration at adept Lucius, master engineer and priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Though rhetorical, adept Lucius chose to reply, his flat emotionless voice in stark contrast to the tension filling the Valiant’s bridge.
“We are at maximum speed captain. The engines are working at their full capacity.”
The reply did nothing to ease the captain’s nerves and he wished he hadn’t asked. Commissar Kreuzer sighed ever so slightly behind the captain’s lectern, infuriating Langsdorf.
“Enemy vessel entering the belt captain,” said the first officer.
Langsdorf watched the display as the icon representing the Red Slaughter flickered then winked out of existence. Leaning over the thick glass screen he clenched his fists and groaned. The sensors had failed as predicted. The only way to pick up the trail now was to follow the vessel in and get close. Too close for Langsdorf’s liking.
“Thirty seconds to the belt.”
Langsdorf acknowledged his first officer with a cursory wave without looking up from the display. The ships automated systems began to take over, lowering the adamantium blast shields over the forward viewing windows in preparation for entering the belt. The blackness of deep space shrank and was then shut out as the shields closed with a heavy metallic clang.
“Entering the Castius belt now sir,” said Krauss.
Lansdorf watched with a feeling of dread as all the icons on the display vanished, leaving only the blue eagle in its centre representing the Valiant herself.
“Communications non functional captain.”
“Void shields ineffective.”
The reports came in from his senior staff with implacable predictability. This was bound to happen. His ship was now blind and defenceless. Why did he follow the chaos renegade in here? Minutes passed and Langsdorf’s frustration grew.
“I think you’ve lost her captain,” said commissar Kreuzer with a marked hint of disapproval.
Captain Langsdorf slowly turned to face his tormenter, the colour burning in his cheeks. Seeing the captain’s pent up rage the commissar retreated a step. Langsdorf returned to the display. Where was the traitor vessel?
+++
Shimmering dust and gas shrouded the Revenge as the pitted armoured prow of the Sword class frigate pushed its way through the Castius Belt. On the bridge captain Maher and his first officer stood leaning over the main tactical lectern in the centre of the room, directly below the decorated vaulted ceiling. Both men were frowning.
“Bloody nothing. You see that?”
First officer Callum had to agree. The tactical display on the Revenge was indeed blank, but swearing and getting red-faced, as Maher was, wasn’t going to change that. However after serving with the old man for ten years Callum was used to such outbursts.
“Throne of Earth! We’re blind in here!”
Callum didn’t reply, knowing the captain was relieving his frustration in his own unique way.
After a few more curse filled seconds the first officer’s attention was drawn to a brief flash on the display. It wasn’t there long but for a second a white icon had appeared of the stern of the ship.
“Captain, I think there is something else in here.”
Maher stopped mid stride as he paced up and down the bridge. Returning to the display lectern he saw the same icon appear, briefly glowing white, indicating a vessel only a couple of hundred kilometres distant. Then, as the two naval officers watched, the icon appeared again, this time glowing blue. Without taking his eyes off the display Maher gave his orders.
“Comms, get me Langsdorf.”
“Communications are being blocked by interference,” came the immediate reply.
Maher’s eyes locked with those of his first officer noting his look of concern was shared by his number one. The Valiant was directly behind Revenge and there was no way of knowing whether Langsdorf could see them.
+++
A flicker of light flashed into existence on the Valiant’s tactical screen, glowing white just a few hundred kilometres off the ship’s port bow. Krauss noticed first and shouted to his captain, his voice quavering with excitement.
“Vessel at 340 degrees captain! Range, three hundred kilometres.We have a firing solution.”
“Wait,” commanded Langsdorf, “We must await target verification.”
Langsdorf willed the flickering white icon to glow red, identifying it as an enemy, but the change would not come. If he waited too long the target lock might be lost.
“Sir, range increasing to four hundred kilometres. It must be the Red Slaughter.”
“We have to be sure.”
Commissar Kreuzer strode forward impatiently, standing beside the captain, his face dark and insistent.
“Captain Langsdorf,” he said, “must I remind you of your sacred duty to the emperor? You have the enemy in sight, you must open fire!”
“I am still in command of this ship,” hissed the captain, “I will not fire on an unidentified vessel!”
All eyes were fixed on the confrontation in the centre of the Valiant’s dimly lit bridge. Only the mindless servitors, wired into their posts, continued their duties. First officer Krauss looked nervously from Kreuzer to Langsdorf while the gunnery officer stood ready to unleash the devastating firepower of the frigate’s forward batteries.
“Range five hundred kilometres, course 340,” said Krauss, “captain, it’s the Slaughter, it must be.”
The commissar leaned over the captain’s lectern, bringing his stern face inches from Langsdorf’s, his whisper audible only to the captain.
“If you do not open fire, captain, you’re career in this navy will be over. I will have you court-martialled for cowardice!”
The words stung Langsdorf to his very core, but the commissar had left him no choice. He held the commissar’s gaze for a few seconds before returning to the tactical display. The icon was still flashing white indicating an unidentified target. It had to be their quarry. From its course and speed there was no way it could be anything else could it? In any case Kreuzer had left him no choice. With an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach the captain gave the only order he could.
“Open fire.”
+++
“Energy spike directly astern!”
Maher noted the edge in the young lieutenant’s voice, indicating his fear.
“Comms?” Asked the captain desperately, looking over to the officer manning the communications console.
Taking the heavy headphones off his ears the lieutenant looked at his captain with a look which made Maher sick to his stomach. They couldn’t raise the Valiant. Idiots! Couldn’t they see the Red Slaughter must have disengaged?
“The Valiant’s firing sir!”
Maher quickly returned to his chair, followed by his first officer.
“All hands brace for impact, helmsman take evasive action!”
The crew followed their captain’s orders without question, activity breaking the atmosphere of fear and tension on the Revenge’s bridge, but Maher knew it wouldn’t do any good. They were too close and their shields were inoperative. Only a miracle would save his ship now.
“By the Emperor get me Langsdorf!”
+++
On the Valiant the tension of the bridge immediately evaporated in the frenetic activity that followed as the crew carried out their duty. Having given the order to engage the captain became an island of calm in a sea of barked orders and shouts. With a mighty shudder the Valiant’s forward guns opened fire, rocking the ship and causing the lights to flicker. Again and again the batteries fired, sending thousands of high velocity projectiles slicing through the void. At this range they couldn’t miss. The icon on the display screen flashed orange then grey, indicating a kill.
+++
As the first volley impacted with the unprotected stern of the Revenge the bridge rocked violently, sending anyone not seated sprawling to the cold mosaic-patterned floor.
“Damage report!” Barked Maher.
First officer Callum frowned as he struggled to take in the information flashing in red and yellow across his screen.
“We’ve lost engines and aspect control captain. Another shot like that and we’re done for.”
As if Captain Maher didn’t know.
“Valiant’s firing again captain!”
Maher waited in grim resignation as he imagined the massive projectiles slicing through the gas and dust, covering the distance between the two ships in mere seconds. There was nothing he could do now.
The second volley of fire from the Valiant hit the Revenge along the length of her port side, rupturing the ship’s armour and spilling atmosphere out into the vacuum of space. Hundreds died in the initial impact but more suffered an agonising death as the breath was sucked from their lungs as the pressurised compartments vented into the void. Secondary explosions tore the ship apart, splitting the mighty vessel in two, sending the aft portion spinning away from the prow, plasma and gasses pouring from the wounds torn in the Revenge’s hull.
The ship’s bridge was a scene of total chaos. With the artificial gravity gone crewmen struggled to stay at their posts. Many were screaming but most were still trying to carry out their duty and wrestle some control over the convulsing ruins of their doomed vessel.
“Shut down the main reactor”, screamed captain Maher over the deafening roar of explosions emanating from the heart of his ship, “We must disengage!”
“It’s too late”, roared the first officer, “We must abandon…”
First officer Callum’s words were sucked from his throat as a devastating explosion ripped through the command section, buckling the adamantium walls and blasting an ugly gaping hole in the side of the bridge. Many of the bridge crew were sucked, still alive, into space, their screams rendered silent in the vacuum of space.
Those who clung on suffered no better fate as superheated plasma escaping from the ruptured power core vaporised them in seconds. Less than a minute later all the bridge crew were dead. They were lucky. In the twisted wreckage of the Revenge’s two drifting sections men still lived, doomed to a slow death as their oxygen ran out in the still sealed compartments of the forward weapons decks.
+++
The guns ceased firing and several of the bridge crew cheered the victory. They had gone in after the chaos renegade where the traitors had thought they wouldn’t be followed. Red Slaughter had paid for that arrogance. Even commissar Kreuzer was smiling.
The one man not rejoicing was captain Langsdorf. For him the victory was hollow having been forced into the action by the unwanted intervention of the commissariat. The captain sighed and ordered the ship about to investigate the drifting wreck of the enemy vessel.
“Open blast shields, let’s get a visual conformation of the kill.”
The crew complied with their usual efficiency with which Langsdorf was highly satisfied. Slowly the vast metal sheets retracted revealing a scene of devastation set to a backdrop of shimmering orange and red, the colour of the Castius deeps. There was no question the guns of the Valiant had done their job. Floating in the void the hulk in front of them had been broken in two by the fury of the ship’s fusillade. Wreckage floated listlessly in space as the ship’s broken sections burned with internal fires, the armoured prow blackened and pitted by the impacts of the Valiant’s weaponry.
Armoured prow? Horror gripped Langsdorf as he stared in disbelief at the wreck drifting across the prow of his ship. Gradually the triumphant cheering on the bridge was silenced as every man stared in shock at the scene of carnage. As the Valiant passed within ten kilometres of the devastation the nameplate of the vessel spun into view. It read simply Revenge.
Sweating profusely with his eyes wide in disbelief, commissar Kreuzer turned to face the captain of the Valiant, his trembling hands brandishing a laspistol levelled at Langsdorf’s head.
“Captain Langsdorf,” said the commissar, struggling to stop his voice from cracking,
“You have failed in your duty to the emperor and destroyed on of the imperial navy’s vessels.”
Captain Langsdorf managed a smile. Of course it would turn out like this. In the heat of battle his fears of being labelled a coward had allowed him to act against his judgement. It didn’t matter that the commissar practically ordered him to open fire on an unidentified vessel. Straightening his uniform and holding his head high Langsdorf accepted the inevitable.
“Long live the Imperium.” He said before the shot rang out.
