Aboard the Cruiser
Even Adam, usually the picture of composure, could not fully hide the ripple of shock that crossed his face. When the planetary capital of Talon II blinked out of existence before his very eyes, his fingers moved across the console with an automatic, practiced urgency; he snapped an immediate report up the chain of command.
He wasn't the only one making a report; the captains of the two accompanying escort frigates also transmitted their findings.
At ground level the Legion forces had neither continuous line-of-sight over the whole planet nor any active engagements within the capital's bounds itself. As a result, they remained unaware of the bizarre occurrence.
Once the report was sent, a command swiftly followed:
["Maintain bombardment. Continue orbital suppression on remaining population centers."]
Without hesitation, Adam cast aside his curiosity about the capital's disappearance and resumed coordinating the relentless bombardment of Talon II's remaining cities.
Each lance strike gouged deep craters into the urban sprawl below, while other weapons blanketed city blocks with kinetic and thermal fire, reducing skyscrapers to lattices of molten steel and collapsing concrete. The destructive power of their arsenal was starkly visible when magnified on the tactical display.
For a heartbeat Adam remained puzzled; he still could not form a coherent explanation for why the capital had simply vanished.
However, he soon dismissed the thought. Ultimately, whether the city had been erased from existence or merely had its void shields fail catastrophically made little difference. If the latter were true, sustained bombardment for an entire day would have still ensured its total eradication.
"Report! Enemy ships detected!"
The sudden alert over the fleet-wide vox channel snapped Adam's attention away from the planetary bombardment and back to the void of space.
Unlike cruisers, escort-class vessels were not built around heavy weapons; they did not mount large particle lances. That deliberate design trade-off freed internal volume for sensor suites, power conditioning, and for larger and more advanced augur arrays, making them the eyes of a taskforce rather than its blunt instrument. As a result, the escort frigates were the first to detect the enemy fleet, their contacts marking their position on Adam's tactical display.
Turning to face the marked coordinates, Adam saw three warships emerging from the Immaterium in a sudden, flickering warp jump.
The enemy fleet's coordinates were immediately transmitted to High Command.
Meanwhile, Qin Mo, who had been analyzing the recovered archeotech relic, noticed the same thing. Gazing at the hololithic display, he observed the three vessels positioned at the edge of the Talon System.
He knew that was the Mandeville Point.
Any ship equipped with a warp drive had to avoid the gravitational interference of celestial bodies when entering or exiting the Immaterium. The minimum safe distance required for this process was precisely what defined the Mandeville Point.
Executing a "hot drop" directly into a planet's orbit wasn't entirely impossible. The Damocles Crusade had seen Imperial fleets attempt such maneuvers before, like a high-stakes game of roulette with five rounds chambered. If fate was unkind, the consequences could be catastrophic.
Among the three ships, two were the very same escort frigates that had previously made an emergency warp jump out of the system. They had survived, miraculously avoiding any catastrophic mishaps that so often claimed ships during blind warp jumps.
The third vessel was a Lunar-class cruiser, its entire port-side macro-battery array rendered inoperable. This was the very same cruiser that had been driven off after attempting to harass their orbital shipyard stationed above Talon I.
Despite their luck in escaping the system, the enemy ships now exercised far more caution, choosing to re-enter realspace from the relative safety of the Mandeville Point.
But why had they returned? Were they probing, baiting, or seeking a final reckoning?
"Engage them." Qin Mo no longer concerned himself with the planetary siege and issued his command to Adam.
Without hesitation, Adam maneuvered his cruiser forward, while the two escort frigates flanked him on either side in a classic wedge formation. The wedge minimized crossfire and maximized field-of-fire for forward-facing lance emplacements while placing the frigates' augurs where they could better detect subspace shunts or cloaked threats.
....
When the enemy vessels crossed into lance range, Adam withheld the open-order to fire. Instead, he silently observed.
His display projected a circular targeting overlay that clearly marked his vessel's maximum effective lance envelope, thermal load predictions, and capacitor discharge windows.
Waiting…
The enemy's Lunar-class cruiser drifted ever closer.
"Fire. Target the enemy cruiser's starboard batteries and the bridge arc." Adam finally issued the order.
Deep within the prow of the Warship, void-hardened crew members manned their firing controls. Their hands moved in swift, disciplined motions as they locked onto the enemy vessel and prepared to fire.
Unlike the lances used for planetary bombardment, ship-to-ship lance strikes had their energy output reduced to maximize range. Tactical lances are throttled not because they are less powerful, but because relative aiming windows, capacitor cycles, and heat sinks must be balanced to keep a continuous stream of fire while avoiding thermal runaway. Even at lower settings, they vastly outperformed the lighter lances mounted on the orbital shipyard.
The first crimson beam surged forth, spanning the void at relativistic speeds before striking the enemy Lunar-class cruiser.
As expected, the shot was harmlessly deflected by the ship's void shields.
This was anticipated. This was acceptable.
Adam watched impassively as the lance battery charged for another volley. In lance warfare, sustained pressure is required to fatigue and destabilize void shields; the main limiting factor is heat buildup and capacitor recovery windows. The weapon crews could only fire three volleys before the capacitors required a brief cooling period. Lance arrays are not as effective as macro cannons against dense armor plating, but they possess superior range and accuracy, and they can punch through shield harmonics when concentrated.
The second and third shots struck the same section of void shielding, both deflected.
The fourth shot was fired. Just like the ones before it, the fourth lance blast carved across the darkness of space, again meeting the enemy void shields.
However, this time, something changed.
Then the shield collapsed like a struck membrane, the field dissipating along ripples of coruscating light and residual ion flare.
The fifth lance beam was unleashed.
This time, it struck true.
The crimson lance pierced the starboard flank of the enemy cruiser, carving through composite armor and welded internal bulkheads with ease.
In an instant, the ship's macro-batteries, torpedo tubes, and defense turrets along the right side were annihilated. Just like its crippled port-side weapons, the ship's entire starboard flank was now reduced to wreckage. Sections of the hull buckled inward; smoke and electrically charged plasma vented into vacuum. It would take years, if not longer, to fully repair.
Yet, despite the devastating damage, the Lunar-class cruiser pressed forward.
....
Aboard the stricken vessel, the ship's captain remained silent, his cold gaze fixed on the hololithic display.
The rhythmic opening and closing of blast doors echoed through the bridge as crew members hurried back and forth, reporting status updates in urgent tones.
"Estimated casualties: Over 1,400 lost in that last strike. All starboard weapons destroyed, mirroring the damage to the port-side batteries! Captain, it's clear, their lance weaponry is far superior to what their orbital station used against us earlier. Faster rate of fire, longer range, significantly higher yield. What are your orders?"
For a long moment the bridge fell silent.
The captain listened to the grim reports, his expression unchanging. His icy gaze remained locked on the enemy cruiser's projection. He didn't need to speak; his unwavering composure was enough to instill confidence in his crew.
At last, he issued his command.
"Seal off all compromised sections. No one is to move to the port or starboard decks."
His voice carried no fear, only certainty.
"Talon's Hope will maintain full speed ahead. The escort frigates, execute the plan."
His orders were swiftly acknowledged.
As the crew moved to comply, another lance beam surged toward them.
This time, the shot struck the ship's cathedral spire, shearing off half of the towering structure in an instant, sending sacred stone and reinforced adamantine tumbling into the void.
Yet still, the captain's eyes remained on the hololithic display.
He focused on the two escort frigates moving to flank his crippled vessel.
This was all they had left.
Only three ships.
Even the Lunar-class cruiser, which was meant to operate in pairs, now stood alone.
These three warships were the last defenders of the Talon system.
The Governor had sold everything he could to procure them.
And so, this Lunar-class cruiser bore the name: Talon's Hope.
The captain clenched his jaw, his voice a low, steely whisper.
"If you wish to destroy Talon's Hope… you can. But I will see us all burn together."