When Talos returned to the bridge, the Cursed Echo was struggling to move under the gravity of the planet and the firepower of distant alien warships. Various ammunition hit the void shield and sent out brilliant ripples.
It didn't avoid any attacks. Without slowing down or turning, the Cursed Echo flew out of the high orbit of Nathan VI like a runaway wild horse. Every cannon and spine on both sides of the body swayed forward, preparing for the last time. Yelled angrily.
Talos sat on the throne and watched indifferently.
All command staff, all humans, were almost silent in their concentration.
Servants forwarded printed reports, several of them slowly spitting out rolls of inked parchment from their dentures.
The prophet's eyes never left the eyeball monitor.
The alien fleet is waiting. He saw them moving through the void on the drifts of the warp, in sickening harmony, their glowing solar sails tilted to catch the faint rays of the distant sun.
"Reports from regions."
Responses came from every part of the command deck, shouts of "Okay" and "Ready" were shouted back in an orderly rhyme that meant, in Dietrian's words, that all was ready.
But apart from waiting, there is actually nothing Talos can do now.
"The alien fleet is preparing to intercept."
He could see clearly that the smaller ships, shaped like bones, were heading for cover around the orbital station.
And the larger cruiser moved with equally astonishing speed, advancing in flowing arcs, sails heeling.
He didn't like the way they moved.
Not only because its agility far exceeds human capabilities, but also because it is impossible for the Cursed Echo to repeatedly surpass this fleet. The aliens make this fleet seem smarter than humans.
"Fifty-five seconds, Master."
Talos leaned back on his throne, knowing full well that he might never leave this deck alive.
Running to the orbital station seemed like the hardest part, but slaughtering those xenos wretches on the deck of the Cursed Echo was a joy in comparison.
"Forty seconds."
"All targets marked and locked!"
The officer in charge of the weapons array shouted:
"We need a full minute without interruption to unleash the first wave of attacks without interruption!."
"You can do that, sir. Tell me how many targets this will hit?"
Talos asked with great patience.
"The Eldar fleet's actions are too weird. If they have been following us for side attacks... there will be about 15 targets."
Talos' lips twitched behind his visor, not exactly a smile.
Shooting 15 targets in one salvo, he's going to miss the ship.
The Cursed Echo was the Blood Covenant's beautiful twin, and it would be churlish if he still cared about the improvements the Red Corsairs had made in the century they had occupied her.
"Thirty seconds!"
"Initiate a ship-wide communication for me."
"It's done, Master."
Talos took a deep breath, knowing his words were heard by thousands of slaves, mutants, and slaves sweating below decks.
"I am the captain, Talos Valcolan, and a descendant of the Eighth Legion. I grew up in a world without the sun, just like all of you... Now an unparalleled storm is coming towards us, and survival depends on it. Your blood and sweat, no matter what deck you toil on, every life counts in the next few minutes, all crew, all souls! Prepare to fight."
"Twenty seconds, Master."
"Turn on 'Scream'."
"Yes, Master."
"First fire a planned shot, then fire at will."
"Yes, Master."
The Echo of the Damned, with all its power, spewed a trail of plasma fire, circling in a semicircle under the gravity of the orbit with almost panache in their destructive heat.
The Eldar warships continued to approach, their initial dives less graceful than their previous void dances, for their prey was playing a different game.
The Eldar ships were ready to engage, setting ambush on clearer routes as they found themselves inadvertently straying away from their fleeing prey.
"Did the screaming work?"
Talos asked. He could see several alien spacecraft quickly turning around and adjusting their attack routes - this was obvious.
Officers stared down at their consoles, no one more keenly than the man stationed in front of the Orion Projector.
"The Eldar fleet is working hard to change our trajectory, and several cruisers have strayed off the interception course."
"It worked."
Talos remained seated on his throne, resisting the urge to pace the deck.
The roar of cannon and the thump of small rocks against the void shield rocked the ship.
"We avoided almost half the enemy fire."
In the viewfinder, the alien ship was elongated—all smooth bones and gleaming sails.
He suspected that the distant sun was causing the Eldar warships to lack the heat needed for their solar sails and make them sluggish, but he had little understanding of the xenoship's capabilities and it was all speculation.
"The alien vanguard ship has entered maximum weapons range!"
When the officers shouted, Talos also thought of his brothers. They should be sitting in the drop pod now, and the Thunderhawk was also waiting at the landing site.
On the eyeball display, the coin-sized orbital station doubled in size, and the busy attendants in their respective positions chattered about incoming warheads.
"It's time to launch the airdrop pod and order the Thunder Eagle to set off immediately."
"Yes, Master."
As the Cursed Echo swoops down, its belly sheds a shower of glittering "seeds" onto the world below.
The process didn't last long.
"Owner!"
shouted an auspicious operator.
"Alien torpedoes scanned! They can resist our interference."
"Even in the face of screaming?"
Talos knew that Dietrian's machines were calibrated to Imperial technology, but even so, he hoped to be of some use to the Eldar.
"Some lost their way, others blew themselves up on the way, but a third are still flying towards us."
"time?"
"The first one will arrive in ten seconds."
"Attention all, prepare for impact."
Soon the rattles of the ship turned into shudders, and the tremors immediately turned into violent vibrations.
Talos felt a new, unwelcome unease creeping up his spine.
I don’t know when it started, but his preview hasn’t appeared for a long time.
"Shields weakened."
An officer was chirping at the console.
"Two-thirds power."
Talos did not respond. When the cries around him became louder and louder, he also watched the iron-gray metal structure in the eyeball monitor getting bigger and bigger.
"bring it on."
he muttered.
"Damn fate, come on."
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