Primarch Igneous
II Legion
Perpetual Discipline, Ishariel System The attack could and should have gone far, far better. The volley of Nova shots largely missed their target save the one which cleanly struck command spire from station. True, by and large the citadel was still operational, but they had rendered the disruption cannon it wielded impotent and useless and were out of range for the other weaponry that citadel possessed. It was a good effort, though Igneous found the marksmanship of his gunners lacking to a large degree. The enemy was not moving for one thing and neither was their own formation. The gunnery solutions had been checked multiple times over some period in advance. It should have had every shell land on target but, sadly enough, the Nova Cannon was a fickle gun. He could not precisely be angry at them, not at all as they had lost their lives and the lives of many others. Igneous should have been able to say that at least he had sustained no losses but that would be untrue. Over nine hundred lives gone.
One shell had detonated far prior to actually exiting the vessel. The
Lord Overhead lost a third of her length in the explosion which followed, that portion of the ship simply engulfed in a sphere of light before being torn asunder by gravitational forces, by the sheer weight of the Warp. Igneous watched as the torn hull, supports and central keel visible, continued to spew debris. Remarkably however the ship was not actually destroyed; the compartmentalization of the cruiser had ensured her atmosphere was kept and the critical systems were far aft of the magazines. It was impressive, though her captain gave some warning that a need to abandon the ship may become present. She was unable to immediately escape into the Warp however, for the Gellar Field had to be properly calibrated. That alone was quite unfortunate. Igneous considered it, gave a good deal of thought into moving the ship back to the Emperor's fleet for repairs, and gave leave for that captain to depart. Sadly, it was not the end of their troubles. He watched the ship come about slowly, timid in it's pain, pieces from the newly christened bow tearing off and forming a wake of debris behind the cruiser, and sensed that something was wrong.
"Incoming Eldar vessels on attack vector, ma'am!"
A klaxon, same one as before, started to sound; at least one of the enemy vessels was on a direct collision approach. The Fleet Admiral was not especially deterred by the fact; their hit and run tactics were not unknown to the woman and her hawk like features glowed in the dim lighting. She spoke quickly, nearly a cadence with little measured pauses.
"Course 220 11 flank turn! Target their lead vessel! Batteries release!"
"Course 220 11.."
"Target lead vessel! Batteries.."
" ..flank turn aye!"
"..released aye! Fire at will!"
"Fire at will aye!"
The massive warship began to turn, maneuvering thrusters burning out long gouts in the midnight on her side to swing the bow about. They needed a targeting solution on the enemy. Lance turrets had already made the attempt to train, though they held an inability to strike the enemy. Long red fingers grasped into space and found nothing, all while the fleet about the
Perpetual Discipline maneuvered themselves to avoid the oncoming enemy and the attempts of their own flagship. One Eldar vessel peeled off, making it's own run against the critically damaged
Lord Overhead, and in but a breath that cruiser's aft was burning in the void by a handful of impacts. Her engines sputtered, hulk adrift, and the reactor critical, the cruiser was nearly saved by the urging of her own fleet. They had to have tactical victory, not personal glory, and so the Eldar craft came about with a last salvo before jetting off. The miniature star left no survivors.
It still didn't feel right, not to Igneous. As a pair of frigates began to burn in the void from Eldar lances, as they made their retreats, even as calls were made to dispatch parties to recover what little there may be, there was something else. Something had been aboard those ships, something different, and that sense of wrong was soon given a sound to go with it. A rapid bell.
"Security alert, security alert. Boarding parties about decks 9 through 14, flight deck. All hands lay to armories. Stand by to repel boarders. Set mechanical and chemical isolation throughout the ship. Set mechanical and chemical isolation throughout the ship. Class Bravo weapons authorized."
It came again, frantic, loud against the bullhorn to which it was paired. The bridge came under lockdown as the Primarch peered at one of the varied viewing screens. What was once a nearly orderly retrieval of strike craft about the hangar decks had turned into a battlefield, a cacophony of war and death as countless Eldar have come aboard. Somehow they had bypassed the Void Shields, performed what no other was capable of, and had caught his flight crews and few Legionaries unprepared. Some few vessels recently landed made their attempts to touch-and-go, get airborne and moving out of danger, but these were the most quickly targeted. He watched them setting up with grenade launchers and suncannons, plasma grenades punching holes through the adamantine plating and engine housings to punish those impudent enough to attempt flight. Elsewhere, Thunderhawks eschewed that flight and instead put their battle cannons to good use as shrapnel rounds had already been loaded. Most got off only one round before destroyed, the lucky few firing two. Flight crews made their vain last stands, cut down at their bolter pintles, firing off their laser pistols, or attempting to move for cover. Legionaries, cleanly outnumbered, largely attempted their own tactical withdrawls through the Warp but something was wrong. Igneous could see it. He could feel it. He saw them attempt to tear holes in the Warp, saw the Sergeants try to rend it so their comrades could escape, though a force made it marginally harder to make such an attempt possible. Nevertheless the squads provided ample covering fire, bolters in well-oiled bursts to bring one after another Eldar down, though man to man the Legionary and Eldar were closely matched, though edge had to be given to the xenos in every honesty. What saved the Marines, Igneous could suspect, was the fact that they were on the flight deck for potential boarding actions and as such were quite ready for combat. And yet it still pained the Primarch when one of his sons fell.
A detail did stand out to Igneous however. Several did. The foe seemed quite capable in boarding, in making the effort to engage his forces on effectively his terms, and relied on their speed and experience for combat victory. They had done this in a smaller number than would be expected to take the whole ship and, as such, had to hold some other objective than the destruction of all humanity near. That could of course be achieved by engaging the vessel's reactor, destroying it, or by overloading the vessel's warp drive, or by charges in the magazines, though they would have held better luck by merely boarding in those locations. The Eldar instead were in the hangar to cause all manner of chaos. True, though, they did seem to be pushing aft and so it was possible that their boarding was merely misaimed and yet...yet it didn't align. They hadn't boarded every single battleship in his fleet, nor the transports, nor the cruisers and their cannons, but had only boarded his vessel. What was so important upon Igneous's own ship...but him. Possible, yet in any case it mattered not at all. Sabotage and ship destruction would guarantee his death as much as assassination and all possibilities had to be guarded against. They wore black armor, though...bulky, black armor on the corpses. It meant something, for Igneous hadn't seen that sort before. He just didn't know what.
"Security alert, security alert. Boarding parties about decks 9 through 14, flight deck. All hands lay to armories. Stand by to repel boarders. Set mechanical and chemical isolation throughout the ship. Set mechanical and chemical isolation throughout the ship. Class Bravo weapons authorized."
He needed to close off the area above the hangars, the gunnery decks. They had enough ordinance, when firing, on deck to blow through the internal bulkheads, the magazine citadels, and snap the battleship clean in two with the resulting blast. Having just a few decks between the Eldar and his death didn't sit right with Igneous. Likewise, the magazines themselves had to be secured from intrusion. He hadn't met an Eldar whose armor could withstand phosphex, that devil smoke, and the Primarch moderately doubted these were far different. Just the same, he wasn't comfortable with the fighters and strike craft just pouring onto the killing fields and that had to be halted immediately. Igneous gave his orders quickly, thundering them out.
"Steady our course! Wave off the remaining wings into formation. Evacuate gunnery decks and cease macrobattery fire. When able, depressurize and vent phosphex into those spaces. Evacuate magazines, depressurize, and vent phosphex into those spaces."
"Aye sir! Steady course, rudder amidships!"
"Rudder amidships aye, ma'am."
"Wings coming to, sir!"
"Confirm gunnery order. Evacuations underway!"
"Fleet Admiral Urran, you have the con." Igneous tilted his head at the woman ever so slightly, seeing her head jolt upwards at the fact. Nevertheless, she was professional.
"Aye sir! Stand relieved."
With that, Igneous made his way off the bridge, helmet about his head, and the Primarch made his way down and down to the rear of the hangar to meet his new guests. About the giant were the miniscule little cherubs, tiny things clothed in robe and crowned with iron, tiny things which bore not harp or bow but plasma and volkite. The foe was upon them and Igneous strode to greet this enemy, his Tears in tow. Through dim corridor and under bright battle lantern they strode, through the knee knockers and hatches, though those about the man paid him only token attention. They had their stations, had places to be, and the Emperor's Son had forever made it known that he would prefer them to go to that station than collect behind him as droplets of dew might collect about a flower. He didn't need their entourage and didn't need their delinquency from the proper stations. The man made his way down, down and down, and over the din of a working ship, of boots down the corridor as sailors got to their posts, of engines aglow and positions being thrown up in the passageways, Igneous could hear it. He could hear the wretched scream of the suncannon, the plasma grenades, the bolter fire. He could hear the war echo down and about him, got closer and he could feel it too. It pulsed and thrummed in the area, burnt that ground about him. It was chaos and energy, the addictive feeling of life in the moments where it might matter and so, so, so much death. It was cold, clammy against the brain, a sickly sweet that made you stop and pause before that paused turned into your last. It was full of last goodbyes never spent and hatreds never expressed, endless regrets and just a few apologies. Igneous bit down on the growl rising in his throat; Eldar needed killing and he wasn't one to let them wait in line.
"Depressurizations underway, sir," came a vox operator over Igneous's helmet comms. Good, good. It meant that the phosphex wasn't long after. He needed those areas sealed off to organics and sealed off soon. Anything else wasn't acceptable.
He continued down, down and down through the hull of the ship. Corners were ambushes, a volkite rifle's barrel poking just out of the hole there, and Igneous knew that the man behind that hole likely had an armored shield as well for his own comfort and safety. It wasn't as though he expected for the shield to stop every Eldar weapon in it's tracks, but the item was useful with the ship plating. Along the long corridors, multi-las cannons had been set up with their heavy gunshields, ready to knock the foe down should they try to charge the length of their view. Most edges and sides of structural arches played host to a rifleman, one way or another. They were afraid, a good many of them, afraid of the eldritch foe who sallied upon the ship, afraid of their power if so few were willing to board.
"Sir," came that vox operator again, "Comms reports that
Bulwark,
Sword of Samael,
Bucephalus have been boarded by Eldar forces. Unknown status." Those vessels had been boarded and Igneous gave some mental pause even as his boots thundered. It was surprising that the flagship of the Emperor was boarded, very surprising, and he nearly felt sorry for those poor fools aboard her. They had made a severe mistake. The
Bulwark, massive station as it was, would hold more issue if the Xeno had sent more than a token force. If they fanned out it would be a stubborn thorn to remove.
Igneous turned the corner, finding himself face to face with four Eldar who had made the unfortunate mistake of trying to be smart. There was little pause in the event, the first to move being the Tears. The mind was faster than flesh, than metal, and four Tears nigh immediately began to open fire on the Eldar. They provided little true effect, instead directed to aim their shots to corral the foe even as the closest lunged with their blade. It impacted against the Primarch's shield, skidding from it down and to his right, and Igneous responded with a brutal upper swing into the Xeno's neck. The body crumpled one way, helmeted head another, and in a burst of speed Igneous was upon them. As one fired their shuriken weapon in rapid order, metal shards skirting about the giant in an attempt to find purchase, the Primarch swung to find only air as another slide backwards. A third attempted to flank about, a solid spint that turned the black carapaced Xeno into a blur even as volkite and grav weapon spattered about the blur, and Igneous knew he had to react. He continued that swing, leaning into it as the axe almost seemed to lengthen to just reach the foe. It was a graze against the armor, one which splattered molten adamantium and black armor against the floor, though the force of it was enough to pause that third, spinning him about to break the sprint, and allow Igneous to sweep up against him with the free hand. Power fist lit up the space as it connected square to the face, though Igneous turned his hand about as the Xenos head snapped back from the punch's force. Dead, true, yet Igneous grasped the head all the same and swung the soon collapsing corpse about with such force as to make him fly. The two remaining were quick enough to avoid the corpse, though one ate four volkite shots to the chest as they landed. The other lept forwards, forwards as axe was turned away and hand was unready, plasma grenade in hand. Igneous turned. The Eldar stopped in mid air, Igneous turning to fully face them. Air wrapped about the figure, wrapped and wrapped until they simply couldn't move, and Igneous made the simple action. The axe came down again, biting through the neck and out, crimson against floor.
Another pause, the Primarch considering those corpses about him. He hadn't felt them, not one bit, and it irked the giant. They were something specialist, something likely very new to the Imperium and very old to the Eldar as most things would be, and they had held issue only by virtue of attempting to battle in a corridor. Igneous had also never seen one willing to charge, grenade in hand. Desperation? It was likely. It mattered some.
He continued.