Chapter 50: The Battle of Cadia (Part 2)

Chapter 50: The Battle of Cadia (Part 2)

Though the Vengeful Spirit was the spearhead of the attack, it was not undefended. Five escort squadrons, frigates, and cruisers shielded it on all axes, ready to absorb incoming fire with their void shields or their own hulls.

In a void battle, numbers and firepower are key, but formation is everything. An uncoordinated attack, even with superior numbers, will fail. This was especially true in a mass-boarding action where a single cruiser hit by a macro-cannon could mean hundreds of dead Astartes, wasted in the void.

The two fleets closed, plunging into close-range void combat. The Chaos fleet launched its first wave of boarding torpedoes. They either slammed into their targets, or were vaporized by the Imperial point-defense batteries. The void exploded in a series of white-hot flashes in front of the Imperial line.

Most of those torpedoes were empty—or filled with gibbering beastmen, cultists, or timed melta-charges. No commander wastes their elite forces in the first wave, when the enemy's defenses are at their peak.

Admiral Cassian Valdor, the Imperial commander, was playing a cautious, defensive game. They held the better position, backed by the orbital guns of Cadia. They would not chase the enemy out into the void.

Valkar He'en, the Chaos Fleet-Master, was the opposite: aggressive and brutal. He was trading the lives of small ships for closing the distance. From the command bridge of the Vengeful Spirit, his mind connected directly to the tactical display, sifting through the torrent of information. He was the cold eye in the storm, searching for the weakness in the Imperial line.

As the fleets closed, lances and macro-cannons tore apart void shields and ripped into hulls. Then, the real boarding action began. Hundreds of Traitor Astartes poured into Imperial ships. Many of these ships lacked any Astartes protection, and Admiral Valdor could only pray his mortal damage-control teams could hold the line.

Petros and his team received their orders: board and neutralize the Imperial Navy's Caestus-class Light Cruiser, The Judgment's Edge.

The Judgment's Edge was a powerful ship. Its void shields deflected the fire of a dozen smaller craft. Its prow was tipped with a massive ram, and its macro-cannons were huge, visible tumors of steel—one of which had just reduced a nearby Cobra Destroyer to a wreck.

Petros's men were ready. Ship-Master Barnabas had calculated their deployment: Sergeant Thor and the First Squad would breach the stern to seize the Enginarium; Petros and Sergeant Vornab would lead the Second Squad to the Bridge. Third Squad would remain aboard The Ironclad as reserve.

Petros, shield and bolter ready, stood inside the boarding torpedo. Barnabas had timed the attack perfectly, firing the torpedo from a blind spot in the cruiser's defense arc. Ten torpedoes launched from several ships simultaneously. The defenders had no idea which carried Astartes.

With a grinding crash, the torpedo slammed into The Judgment's Edge. The hatch blew open, and Petros's squad flooded the ship's interior.

"Squads advance!" Petros voxed. "I lead the vanguard. We move through the main corridors to the Bridge. Our goals are the Bridge and the Enginarium. Seize those, and the ship is ours."

The First Squad would be breaching the Enginarium now. Petros's strike team, 17 Astartes in all, was charging toward the forward command center.

In the narrow corridor, their heavy boots echoed like a war-drum. They ran into the ship's defense force—a squad of ratings, their lasguns and shotguns leveled.

The ensuing battle was brutal and short. The Astartes' bolt-fire annihilated the mortal line. In the confined space, flesh and flak armor provided no defense.

Petros led from the front, his boarding shield locked, his bolter spitting bolts through the firing slit. A squad of mortal damage-control ratings tried to counter-attack with their own, improvised boarding shields. THUMP-THUMP. Two perfect holes appeared in the shields, and the ratings fell, their bodies pulverized.

Their shields were thin, plasti-steel junk, with no power field. Useful against autoguns, but worthless against Astartes-grade mass-reactive ammunition.

The 17 Traitor Astartes cleared the corridor and reached a sharp turn. A figure, small and thin, darted from the corner. In his hands was a fully-charged plasma gun.

"Die, Chaos scum!" the rating screamed.

FZZZCRACK! A ball of superheated plasma shot down the narrow hall. There was no time to react. The white-hot energy slammed into the chest of the Astartes directly behind Petros.

His bolt pistol instantly silenced the rating. But the Astartes who was hit collapsed, his helmet and chest plate melted, his superhuman body hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

Vornab's report was immediate. "Lord, Neophyte Manni is down. KIA."

Petros barely heard him. A desperate, new message cut through the vox. It was Sergeant Thor, leading the attack on the Enginarium.

"Lord! We are meeting heavy resistance! They have Astartes!"

Petros's mind reeled. This ship has Astartes protection?