The Beast Arises полностью

For his part, Kulik was applying all the will he had not to stare at the transition countdown display, and occupied himself with an intimate inspection of the curlicued decoration of his sword hilt. Meanwhile the depths of his guts churned in anticipation of the shrieking wail of a siren that would warn of a Geller field failure or warp engine malfunction.

Sweat was wetting his over-starched shirt and the soles of his feet were itching — a sure sign that something was going to go wrong.

He barely heard the servitor’s drone conclude the countdown. One moment Kulik was on the bridge of his ship, studying the lines of the basket hilt of his sword, the next moment he was adrift on the void of space, his soul bared to the flare of a billion angry suns, scorching his being from the inside out.

And then they were back in realspace.

Kulik took a long, deep breath, nostrils flaring and eyes wide like a charging bull as he fought back the somersault in his stomach with raw willpower. His hands were balled fists at his side, fingernails digging into flesh.

Finally, the captain let out an explosive breath.

‘Full scan, cycle plasma coils, navigational shields to full power, void shield generators to maximum, targeting grids on full lock. All stations remain at battle readiness!’

The orders were the same every time, issued without effort or thought. Similarly, the watch officers on the bridge, and no doubt the warrant and petty officers in the bowels of the Colossus, were acting even before the words left Kulik’s lips. They had been through the actions enough times on the long rimward patrols that they knew the post-translation drill by heart.

There was a slight cough from Lieutenant Shaffenbeck, and when Kulik looked at his second, the lieutenant shot a glance towards the doors of the bridge. There was another command not so familiar.

‘Oh, and please extend my invitation to Admiral Price to join me on the bridge,’ Kulik added.

As sensor vanes gathered data on the surrounding system, matriculation servitors analysed the information and cross-referenced with their memory stores of the surrounding star field. Saul double-checked the calculations of the lieutenant at helm control — Mathews — and nodded with satisfaction.

‘Confirmed, Vesperilles System. Seventy thousand miles inside the Mandeville point, heading oh-oh-five-seven, inclination thirty-eight.’

‘Captain!’ The sharp call came down from Ensign Daggan assisting Lieutenant Sturmfel at the sensor banks on the level above Kulik. ‘Reading multiple radiation sources, plasma discharge and other ordnance resonance.’

‘Evidence of an engagement,’ said Kulik, striding over to the scanner displays. ‘Boost power, we need more clarity on the full-spectrum scan. Comms, broadcast identifiers and scan battle frequencies.’

Over the following minutes the situation became clearer. Sensor traces showed battle debris and munitions detonations ranging from several hours old to ten days. Residual warp backwash located more than fifty vessels already in-system, but scattered all around the perimeter as they had dropped out of warp space. A cluster of signals almost at right angles to the Colossus’ position on the system plane showed where Admiral Acharya’s fleet was gathering.

The orks were even more numerous. Scores of escort-size and dozens of cruiser-class and larger ships flooded the system, operating in small battlegroups that were targeting the isolated Navy ships attempting to reach the converging fleet.

‘Sir, we have an Imperial ship under attack to port,’ announced Lieutenant Sturmfel. ‘Cruiser-class, three ork attack ships converging on their position. Read void shield overloads and superstructure damage. Radiation blossom indicates two destroyed ork ships in the vicinity.’

Kulik watched as the relative positions of the ships were plotted on a sub-display while the main screen continued to fill out with system details — planetary positions, gas clouds, asteroid belts and fields, and the scattered dispositions of both Imperial Navy and greenskin vessels. There was a line of more than thirty red enemy sigils between the Colossus and the flag rune depicting Admiral Acharya aboard the Defiant Monarch.

‘Helm, come to new heading, nine-five-three, then all speed ahead,’ announced Kulik.

‘It’s the Saint Fatidicus, captain,’ said Shaffenbeck, moving away from the communications console. ‘Captain Havaart is issuing an all-channels request for assistance.’

‘Tell him we’re on our way,’ said Kulik.

The doors growled open to allow Admiral Price to enter. He ran a quick, experienced eye over the screens and then turned to Kulik.

‘You intend to assist the Saint Fatidicus?’