Rogue Trader

by Andy Hoare

  ‘They have a return, in stationary orbit around KX122. The telemetry’s coming through now.’

  ‘Main screen,’ ordered Lucian. He had a dreadful sense of premonition as the pict-slate mounted above the forward portal came to life in an angry wash of static.

  The screen showed the sensor returns gathered by the leading frigate of 103rd Squadron. Less than a thousand kilometres to the frigate’s fore was a large, solid return that was all too familiar to Lucian.

  ‘Ensign Naveen,’ Lucian said, addressing the Navy officer who had taken over station ten, ‘consult the archives. Compare that return to the tau defence station the fleet encountered at Sy’l’kell.’

  ‘Working,’ Naveen replied, reams of text scrolling up the data screen before him. Lucian waited impatiently, his eyes on the main viewer all the while. Though undoubtedly more use in a fight, these men of flesh and blood communed far less efficiently with the Oceanid’s data stacks than did the servitors he had become accustomed to.

  ‘Well?’ he said, resisting the urge to cross to the station and stand at the man’s back.

  ‘Data probe reporting, sir,’ Naveen said, turning in his seat to face Lucian. ‘It’s the same return, sir, only the power output is off the scale.’

  ‘I knew it,’ Lucian spat. ‘Comms, get me Jellaqua, now.’

  Lucian watched the holograph as Ensign Katona spoke, opening a channel to the Blade of Woe. Even as he watched, he saw the lead capital ships veer towards the return. Fools, he cursed inwardly. ‘Comms, where’s that channel?’

  ‘The admiral is otherwise engaged, my lord,’ replied Ensign Katona. ‘He is in closed conference with Cardinal Gurney.’

  That explains it, thought Lucian. Gurney must have overridden Jellaqua’s authority, somehow, causing him to launch an immediate attack on the station.

  ‘I want a masters’ conference, now!’

  Lucian stood and paced the length of the bridge as he waited for the other ships’ masters to come on line. It felt like hours, but within a few minutes the pict screens clustered around the bridge’s ceiling were filled with the faces of the other captains.

  ‘This had better be good, Lucian.’ It was Captain Natalia of the Duchess McIntyre, and she appeared distracted. ‘We have attack orders coming through.’ A chorus of terse agreement went up from each of the other captains.

  ‘Listen to me for the Emperor’s sake!’ Lucian snapped. ‘That station is a major threat. We need to approach it with caution or someone’s going to get hurt, badly.’

  ‘That’s simply not true.’ It was Captain Joachim of the Lord Cedalion. It would be, Lucian mused, but he suppressed any response, for now. ‘The station we faced at Sy’l’kell was only lightly armed. We can take this one on without any danger. To suggest otherwise is to admit that the tau are superior to us, and that borders on treason.’

  ‘It might appear the same to you,’ Lucian responded, forcing himself not to rise to Joachim’s insult, ‘but I’ve faced the tau in ship-to-ship combat before, and I recognise the signature of their weapons. I’m telling you, that station is upgunned.’

  Lucian looked to the screen bearing Joachim’s image, only to see that the captain had cut the audio and was speaking to a subordinate. He looked to the other ships’ masters, to see that several were obviously listening in on some other channel.

  ‘Lucian,’ Natalia began, ‘I’m sorry. We have to…’

  The pict-slates suddenly died, flickering to life again moments later. The distorted image resolved slowly, until Lucian saw what he had dreaded. It was Cardinal Gurney, and behind him stood Inquisitor Grand and Admiral Jellaqua. The trio stood on the command deck of the Blade of Woe, the flagship’s massive bridge a hive of activity in the background.

  ‘This is Cardinal Gurney and these are my orders.’ Lucian stood stunned as the image was repeated across a dozen pict screens. ‘The fleet will engage the xenos station immediately.’

  Lucian could no longer restrain himself. ‘By whose authority do you presume to make such an order?’

  The cardinal’s face took on a twisted leer. Lucian made a fist, imagining what he’d do to that face, were they in the same room. Gurney stepped aside to afford a full view of the inquisitor standing behind him. For the first time to date, Grand was wearing his inquisitorial rosette, a large red seal emblazoned with the ‘I’ of the Emperor’s Inquisition. Grand said not a word; he had no need to.

  So, thought Lucian, Grand had finally decided to exercise the full extent of his power as an inquisitor. Lucian had known he would do so at some point, when he felt the circumstances matched some agenda known only to him, and probably to Gurney. No doubt the old bastard had been waiting for this moment for weeks, and had timed it to do the maximum damage to his enemies’ influence and credibility. Lucian looked to Admiral Jellaqua, seeing from his expression that he felt as Lucian did. Lucian knew that the admiral could not countermand the inquisitor’s authority, and although Lucian’s position as a rogue trader theoretically made him the inquisitor’s peer, that relied entirely on the circumstances of any dispute. No, there was no possible way Lucian could fight this, not here, not now.

  ‘All commands,’ Gurney continued, ‘will acknowledge receipt of this order.’ The cardinal’s face bore the expression of one entirely convinced that he had won. Lucian swore that the cardinal would pay for this. At some point in the future, perhaps when the inquisitor was no longer around to provide his support, Gurney would pay.

  Lucian listened as each of the ships’ masters and squadron commanders acknowledged the order. Most did so in clipped tones. When it was Lucian’s turn to respond, he allowed a long, tense silence to precede his answer.

  ‘Acknowledged,’ he said, hating the cardinal all the more for the expression of victory that passed across his face as Lucian gave his response.

  ‘New heading coming through, sir,’ said Ensign Ruuben. ‘We’re to follow the fleet in to engage the station.’

  ‘Do so,’ Lucian ordered, his mood black. ‘Ensign Sumiko?’ The woman stationed at the shields station turned as her name was spoken. ‘I want the shields ready at a moment’s notice. If, or when that station opens up on us, I’m going to need one hundred percent output, no matter the drain, do you understand?’

  ‘I understand, sir. I’ve operated this mark of projector before. I know how to get the best of her.’

  Lucian smiled, though his mood did not lift. ‘Well enough. Helm, take us in.’

  The next hour felt like an impossible span of time to Lucian. He watched the holograph as the fleet closed on the tau station, looking for any sign of the attack he knew must surely come. If only the fleet had a strong enough complement of attack craft, he cursed. He was sure that one of the capital vessels would pay the price for Gurney’s pride, when a fighter attack ahead of the main line might have crippled the station’s weapons before they could cause the fleet any damage. As the spear tip of the fleet passed the five hundred kilometre mark, Lucian saw the energy spike he had anticipated. He looked to the holograph, and spat a colourful blasphemy when he saw which of the fleet’s vessels was to the fore.

  ‘Sarik!’ He surged to his feet as Ensign Katona patched him through to the Nomad.

  ‘I see it, Lucian,’ said the Space Marine sergeant. ‘I’m not as wet behind the ears as you seem to think, rogue trader, and I don’t need warning twice. Nomad out.’

  Coming to the viewing port, Lucian watched as the distant speck of light that he knew to be the Nomad altered its course sharply to starboard. A second later, a brief, blue light flashed for an instant and was gone, its source invisible at this range.

  ‘The enemy has opened fire,’ Batista called out.

  ‘General quarters,’ said Lucian, calm, despite what he knew was coming.

  ‘Disposition orders coming in, sir,’ called out Ensign Katona over the wail of the alert klaxon. ‘The Ho
nour of Damlass is being ordered to engage.’

  ‘She’ll be savaged,’ Lucian snarled, knowing he had no time to intervene.

  ‘Reading a second spike,’ Batista called out.

  Lucian braced himself against the bulkhead, though he knew that Oceanid was unlikely to be the target of the second shot.

  A second wink of blue light appeared in the darkness up ahead. An instant later, a bright spark appeared as the ultra high velocity projectile struck its target.

  ‘Honour of Damlass hit!’ Batista said calmly. ‘Damage reports coming in. Main shield array out of action.’

  ‘Fleet are ordering the Honour to withdraw,’ Katona said. Seeing a third flash of light flaring against the blackness, Lucian knew that it was too late. An instant later and a second explosion blossomed, describing the fate of the Honour of Damlass better than any damage report ever could. Even from this distance, Lucian saw the light of the Honour’s main drives gutter and die, leaving her crippled and doomed.

  ‘We have to do something,’ Lucian spat. He turned from the viewing port and strode across to his command throne.

  ‘Signal Jellaqua, in person.’

  ‘Aye sir,’ Katona replied, understanding the order fully. ‘Channel open.’

  ‘Gerrit?’ Admiral Jellaqua’s voice filled the bridge, the channel flooded with distortion and crackles. ‘Gerrit, I’m somewhat busy, make this quick.’

  ‘Admiral,’ Lucian said, ‘I know you have your orders, but you have to break off the attack on the station. At least send in the escorts first, you know the cruisers are sitting targets.’

  ‘I agree, Lucian, but I must… Standby…’

  The channel fell abruptly silent. Lucian looked quickly around at the various readouts, hoping to discern the cause of the interruption. His blood ran cold as he looked to the holograph. There, at the very edge of the three dimensional projection, was a cluster of sensor returns, edging out from the lee of KX122.

  ‘Jellaqua! You have to redeploy the fleet, right now. If those cruisers outflank us, we’re all done for.’

  ‘Agreed,’ replied the admiral. ‘I’m switching to fleetwide command broadcast.’ The channel was filled with distorted comms chatter, followed by a burst of angry machine noise. Then the signal stabilised and the admiral’s voice rang out, this time addressing the captains of each vessel in the line.

  ‘All commands, this is Blade of Woe. We have multiple contacts closing from zero-zero seven two nine. All main line capital vessels will move to engage immediately. All escort squadrons to close on tau station and silence it. Form up on my lead and good hunting.’

  ‘You heard the man,’ said Lucian. ‘Helm, bring us around on the Blade and match her speed. Echelon to port, two kilometres by fifty.’

  ‘Aye, sir,’ responded Ruuben, hauling on the Oceanid’s wheel. Lucian felt the gravity fluctuate as the vessel was subjected to the forces put into play by the change of heading. His head was forced back into the command throne for an instant, and he looked to station nine, one of the few manned by a servitor.

  ‘Grav, I want those compensators on-line, or so help me I’ll…’

  He let the threat tail off. It was pointless threatening the servitor, for it had no independent will and felt no emotion. Besides, he was more intent on studying the holograph and its representation of the unfolding battle. The fleet was slowly moving to its new heading, though Lucian’s practiced eye saw immediately that the arrow head formation was losing its former cohesion, the vessels becoming strung out in a long line, with the Oceanid, the Rosetta and the Fairlight at its centre. It felt to Lucian that the manoeuvre was taking far too long to complete, the tau vessels closing on them all the while.

  They were closing on a single vessel that had drifted too far ahead of the formation. The Dauntless class cruiser the Regent Lakshimbal was isolated at what had previously been the extreme port flank, but was now the head of the line of vessels moving to intercept the tau. With no escort squadrons to picket the fleet’s perimeter, the cruiser found the enemy bearing right down upon her.

  As the range between the two fleets closed, the Oceanid’s sensors began to gather more data on the enemy vessels. There were eleven of them, and as the readings flooded across the pict screens above his command throne, Lucian sought out the configurations he had observed in his previous encounters.

  He did not find them. At his previous battles against the tau, he had faced huge, lumbering starships with modular bays underslung beneath a central spine. He had come to discern that these bays might be swapped out for weapons, cargo or carrier duties, but that was not what he was seeing here. Instead of the comparatively vulnerable configuration encounter before, these vessels were smaller, yet evidently intended to carry out a far more aggressive role in ship-to-ship combat. Instead of a single weapons battery mounted to the fore, these bore multiple batteries. Lucian’s professional eye saw immediately how the interlocking field of fire of each battery might combine with devastating effect. Even as he watched, he knew that the Regent was perilously close to entering those fields of fire.

  ‘Full power to mains!’ Lucian bellowed. ‘Break formation if you have to, Mister Ruubens.’

  ‘Aye, sir,’ the helmsman called back as the roar of the Oceanid’s main drives was transmitted her entire length. We can make it, Lucian thought, if only the Regent can hold out against the first tau volley.

  As Lucian’s vessel swung gracefully to port, breaking formation with the main battle line, a mournful wail went up from somewhere deep in her bowels.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Lucian spat. ‘Report!’

  ‘It’s drive three, my lord,’ responded Ruuben, even as he struggled with the great wheel in an effort to maintain the Oceanid’s heading. ‘Something’s wrong with…’

  ‘Not now!’ Lucian cursed. Drive three had been a concern for several years, but had never failed him when actually needed. He had delayed an overhaul, knowing that the Arcadius could ill-afford such an extravagant expense, and had intended to attend to the matter after the crusade had sufficiently lined his pockets.

  Lucian’s mind raced as he looked helplessly on at the Regent Lakshimbal as the tau vessel bore down upon her. ‘Shut drive three down.’

  ‘Sir?’ replied Ensign Ruuben.

  ‘I said shut it down, Emperor damn it! I want a full purge cycle, right now!’

  ‘Aye sir,’ replied Ruuben, before relaying Lucian’s orders to the drive stations to the Oceanid’s aft.

  Even as he watched, Lucian saw that the tau were in range of the Regent. He knew from bitter experience that the hyper velocity projectile weapons utilised by such vessels would outrange anything a Dauntless carried. Evidently, the captain of the Regent saw this too, for he brought his light cruiser around to face her armoured prow towards the enemy, and to present as small a target as possible against the inevitable salvo.

  As the range closed, Lucian saw that the Regent had raised her shields. He knew the ship’s master would be channelling every available reserve into the shields, for he would not be able to return fire until the tau vessels were within range of his forward lance batteries.

  ‘The foremost tau vessel is powering up for a shot!’ Batista called out, as Lucian had known he would.

  Once more, the familiar wink of blue light appeared, marking the launching of one of the tau’s projectile weapons. Though he knew he was not the target, Lucian gripped the arms of the command throne nonetheless. An instant later, and the attack struck the Regent square across the frontal shield arc, unleashing a blinding explosion as the shields converted the attack to energy and bled it off into space.

  ‘She’s holding!’ Batista said. ‘Shields maximal. Second shot incoming.’

  This time, Lucian saw several of the tau vessel’s weapons batteries open fire, and he realised that the first attack had been nothing more than a ranging shot. The Rege
nt was struck a glancing blow across her armoured prow, and it was immediately evident that the shields had not absorbed the full force of the projectiles. A mighty wound was gauged along the starboard flank of the Regent’s prow, raging fires bursting forth and roiling black clouds billowing out into space.

  ‘Ruuben?’ Lucian called. ‘What’s the status of drive three?’

  The helmsman took but an instant to consult a data-slate mounted above his station. ‘Purge cycle at fifty percent, my lord.’

  ‘Not good enough.’ Lucian knew that the Regent Lakshimbal was dead if she continued to take the punishment being meted out by the tau. ‘Push it to maximum, right now.’

  Lucian saw Ruuben turn as if to voice an objection, but the helmsman evidently thought the better of it when he saw the look in Lucian’s eye. Lucian knew the risks of forcing the plasma drive’s purge cycle, but he was prepared to take that risk, however slim, if he might save the Regent.

  Even as he watched, Lucian saw that the Regent Lakshimbal was doomed. Rising to his feet and crossing to the forward portal, he saw a second and third tau vessel close upon the stricken light cruiser. The range had closed, however, allowing the Regent the dignity of putting up a fight. The Dauntless class vessel’s prow mounted lances spat incandescent death at the first tau starship, scoring a solid hit against its rear section. Lucian punched the air in bitter celebration, savouring the heroic act even as he knew the tau ship’s shields had withstood the blow.

  ‘Come on, Mister Ruuben,’ Lucian growled.

  ‘Ninety, sir.’

  The second and third tau starships were moving to envelop the Regent, but in so doing, the tau showed the relative inexperience that Lucian had noted on previous occasions. The Regent wasted no time in punishing the xenos for their mistake, both her starboard and port weapons batteries unleashing a fearsome broadside at the approaching enemies. The tau, it appeared to Lucian, were caught entirely unawares, neither vessel managing so much as to offer its prow to the Regent so as to present as small a target as possible.