Caspian turned to the viewport. Outside, the repair gantries were already swarming over the Dominus Bellorum . But all he could see was the white, silent flower of the Nova Cannon’s mercy.
“Signal the Righteous Wrath ,” Caspian said. “Code: Mercy .”
“Contact! Enemy squadrons altering course. They have us, my Lord,” voxed Commodore Vance, the fleet’s taciturn second. battlefleet gothic armada pdf
Lord Admiral Caspian heard the news in the strategium of the Dominus Bellorum , his Emperor-class Battleship. The astropathic choir’s message was a fractured scream of static and terror. “...Furia-class... emergence... Gellar Field collapse... Port Maw demands immediate reinforcement. The Archenemy has come to Scarus...” The system of Periphery was lost. Not to Orks, nor to the insidious tendrils of Hive Fleet Kraken, but to the Despoiler himself. Abaddon’s 12th Black Crusade had pried open the Cadian Gate, and a splinter fleet, led by the ancient and corrupted Despoiler-class Battleship Blade of Antwyr , was carving a path toward the vital shipyards of Port Maw.
The Dominus Bellorum swung its vast, cathedral-like prow. The Nova Cannon—a weapon that fired a projectile at near-light speed—cycled its final charge. The aim was not at the Blade of Antwyr . It was at the drifting Righteous Wrath . Caspian turned to the viewport
Caspian took the slate. He did not look at it. “List them as ‘Lost in the line of duty. Ship destroyed by enemy action.’ Understood?”
The shell crossed the void in two seconds. It struck the cruiser’s midsection, just aft of her main bridge. The explosion was a silent, white flower of pure, absolute annihilation. The Righteous Wrath —its sins, its crew, its screaming—vanished. Reduced to a spreading cloud of quarks and regret. “Signal the Righteous Wrath ,” Caspian said
The remaining Chaos ships, leaderless, scattered into the warp.