The Beast Arises полностью

The first lieutenant was back at his customary place, having handed over leadership of the ork hunt to Lieutenant Hartley. Kulik was glad to have his second close at hand. The lieutenant was fixed on the screen too, hands clasped behind his back, knuckles whitening from the pressure. He sensed his captain’s attention and shot a glance at his superior that conveyed a mixture of dread and fatalism.

The best traditions of the Imperial Navy, thought Kulik. We don’t show it but everyone on this bridge, everyone on this ship, is quietly terrified. We tame it like the plasma in a reactor, channelling that fear into discipline and courage.

There was a deeper sensation than mere fear for his life working in Kulik’s gut. The greater part of the fleet was here, attacking a single ork moon. If they failed not only would Port Sanctus be lost, it would signal that the orks’ stations were impervious to the Imperium’s counter-attacks. He stepped closer to Saul as he considered that this battle signified the future of mankind. Failure here meant the orks would probably not be stopped. Never. Even if they were halted in one final battle, the rest of the Imperium would be drained dry of resources, ships and soldiers from other segmentuns drawn from their duties to combat the rampaging greenskins. Even if Terra held — as it had held in the Heresy War — the rest of the Imperium would fall prey to renegades, eldar, and sundry other dangers that threatened the existence of mankind’s dominions every day.

Glory or death.

Not at all. This was raw, primal battle for survival against one of the primeval forces of the galaxy. It was a test of the Emperor’s servants. If they could not crush the orks they did not deserve to rule the galaxy.

It was not long before the lead elements of the fleet came within range of the attack moon’s gravitic pulses. Strange arcs of green and blue energy flashed between ramshackle pylons studding the base’s surface. Their pulsing matched Kulik’s breathing, quickening with the passing seconds.

Like the mass ejections of a star this energy lashed outwards across the void, spitting green fire and flame, twisting the fabric of space-time around the fronds of energy. Kulik could not suppress a grimace and there came cries of dismay across the bridge as the Heartless Rogue was engulfed by a tendril of power, which seemed to wrap around the heavy cruiser like a tentacle. Impossible forces constricted, crushing the ship as void shields turned into red lightning, crumpling yards-thick hull like paper until the reactor containment fields ruptured and the heavy cruiser was swallowed by an expanding ball of plasma.

The corona of energy that had surrounded the moon dissipated, expended by the gravity-warping lash. Kulik had no idea how long it would take to recharge, but realised there was a window of opportunity to get close enough for the launch before the devastating weapon could be unleashed again.

It was a slim hope, but he was prepared to grasp anything that would make this seem like less of a suicide mission.

‘Colossus, this is Agamemnon,’ came a transmission on vox-only. ‘We are preparing to launch.’

‘Not yet, Agamemnon,’ Kulik replied swiftly, the order issued with gritted teeth. He knew that Nadelin didn’t want to get any closer to the attack moon; none of them did. But they had to put their heads into the dragon’s mouth if they were going to rip out its guts. ‘We have to all be within launch range and send the attack craft as a single wing. If we do this piecemeal they’ll be picked off before they ever reach their targets.’

‘Negative, Colossus. We can’t risk getting that close. That gravity whip will tear us apart!’

‘Damn it, Captain Nadelin, you will follow orders!’ Kulik snatched the comms pick-up from the arm of his command throne and his voice dropped to an angry whisper. ‘Emperor help me, Nadelin, if I see you launching your wings now I’ll blow you out of the stars myself!’

There was no reply, but the Agamemnon continued on course a few hundred miles ahead of the Colossus and showed no signs of slowing for a launch.

More conventional weapons opened fire from batteries cut into the surface of the attack moon and turrets mounted on the jutting edifices. Shells and energy beams spewed across the void, too far for any kind of accuracy.

‘I do think they might be worried, sir,’ Saul said. ‘They’re trying to scare us off!’

‘You might be right, Mister Shaffenbeck,’ said Kulik.

They were only a few thousand miles from optimum range when the crackling field of gravitic energy plumed outwards from the pylons again.

‘Emperor’s arse,’ muttered Shaffenbeck as a green tendril of fire filled the vid-display, seeming to head directly for the Colossus.

‘Don’t blaspheme,’ said Kulik. He winced as the display was filled with the static of the energy surge.