Cypra Mundi orbit, the first Ramilies-class Starfort, the Ramilies
The Ramilies, a starfort the size of a small moon, loomed in orbit. From the command throne at its core, Captain Diana Pauline gave the command:
"Commence launch."
Immediately, she switched the comms channel and issued her next order to the chief Navigator.
"Prepare for the warp transition ritual."
The Ramilies-class fortress was so vast that no single Navigator could guide it through the warp alone. The House Visscher's foremost Navigator led six others, their minds linked, to accomplish this monumental task.
The fortress's colossal thrusters, each larger than an Imperial destroyer, flared with searing red light, blazing like a newborn sun in the void.
On the surface of Cypra Mundi, billions of citizens tilted their heads skyward. The light of the ascending fortress ignited thunderous cheers across the planet.
Atop the gothic spire of the HouseBorgkamp estate, the jewel master and clan patriarch, famed across the Shadow of Order's territories, watched in awe.
"A perfect gemstone," he murmured. "A flawless geometry."
Aboard the Ark Mechanicum, Explorer, Magos Lian Ramilies, for whom the fortress was named, could barely contain his pride.
"This," he declared, "is the most perfect creation ever forged. The Omnissiah's will made manifest."
Hundreds of tug craft, mere insects beside the fortress, strained to tow it toward the Mandeville Point.
Ramilies thought back to the orbital bastions that guarded the space between Pluto and the Gate of the Underworld, massive constructs three kilometers wide, equivalent in size to a battlecruiser. To destroy even one of them required an entire Legion, often at terrible cost.
But compared to those, the Ramilies-class was a god among fortresses. His own Ark Mechanicum was but a canoe beside it.
The fortress's vast towers, bridges, and bastions covered its surface like the peaks of a metal continent, dwarfing even the mightiest of Imperial battleships.
"Launch," the Magos said at last, smiling in quiet satisfaction.
....
Terra Standard Year 838, October, Coronid Reach, Manachea System, Manachea Prime
A frail six-year-old boy named Flamini trembled, sweat pouring down his brow.
In his mind's eye, he saw a colossal shadow moving through the void, parting the stars like waves. Terrified, he tore his awareness from the threads of fate and collapsed, panting.
Suddenly, his heart seized, and another vision surged into his mind.
"The xenos are coming! Run!"
He bolted from the damp ground into the depths of the sewer tunnels. The people nearby did not question him. None doubted the word of the six-year-old seer.
They ran.
Moments later, something massive and alien, an anemone-like creature with long legs, crashed down where Flamini had been.
Slimy, luminescent xenos hurried to its side, pulling it up from the filth.
"Lord Heremias, are you all right?"
Heremias spat out the sewage, his expression twisting in rage.
"There's a disturbance in the aether, " he stopped short, spotting the fleeing humans.
"Don't let them escape! Capture them all!"
At the same moment, aboard the Rogue Trader flagship Vostroya's Oath, commanded by Lewis von Valansius
"Lord Captain," came the Master of Vox's report, "the xeno fleet of the Mitu Conglomerate has halted."
Lewis exhaled deeply, staring at the massed alien vessels on the hololith.
"Tell the Navigators to prepare for warp translation."
Relief flickered across his azure eyes, then rage. He slammed a fist onto the holotable.
"Damnable xenos! That filthy Conglomerate! They use humanity as living fuel for their arcane machines!"
His attendant frowned.
"They're too powerful, my lord. Even the Knight House Vyronii barely holds its fortress at Felweather. The forge world Mezoa has endured decades of so-called 'cleansings.' We can do nothing; the greatest Rogue Trader fleets cannot match their armadas."
Lewis shook his head fiercely.
"We must do something. Tens of billions of humans in the Manachea System alone are enslaved, butchered for parts! Billions more suffer across a dozen worlds. Lord Nareth will purge the xenos filth. We return to Vostroya, to report to our Monarch."
...
Terra Standard Year 838, December, the Ramilies emerges from the warp into realspace.
The moment the fortress entered the Advex-Mors, swarms of Rangdan battleships and drones surged toward it like a tide.
Their psykers had already sensed the vast shadow in the warp and were ready.
In the Ramilies's Simulus Chambers, Diana sat in a chair entangled with neural cables, surrounded by flashing consoles. Her gyrinx is at her feet. Despite her mind being twice enhanced, her mind was nearly overwhelmed by the flood of data.
Not only the fortress's own systems, but also data from thousands of attacking ships and drones, streamed into her cortex.
She instantly realized the sheer magnitude of the threat. The drone swarm was large enough to cripple even a Gloriana-class battleship.
She rerouted the impossible volume of targeting data to the torpedo command teams.
"Target the xenos drones," she ordered, voice taut.
The Gunnery Officer, deep within the fortress's central armory decks, acknowledged.
Each section of the fortress bore distinct weapon arrays. At its heart, hundreds of torpedo silos held near-limitless reserves of munitions.
Accepting the incoming data nearly crushed their cogitator systems. After a brief struggle, the officer abandoned the hope of precise targeting, instead identifying high-probability strike zones, regions where predictive calculations suggested the densest concentrations of drones.
"Fire!"
Countless levers were pulled in unison. Streams of torpedoes erupted outward, forming vast, luminous webs across space.
The void lit up with cascading explosions, like a million burning suns.
Three Gloriana-class battleships dropped from the warp nearby, taking formation around the Ramilies.
Even compared to them, the fortress was immense, a sovereign among subjects.
Aboard the Throne Shadow's Sovereignty
Nareth watched as Arsena projected the hololithic display of the battle before them.
The ocean of Rangdan drones was disintegrating, burning like moths in fire. Nareth nodded with quiet satisfaction.
'The Rangdan navy isn't vast; I recall that Urian Vendraig's hundred battlehips once granted them absolute dominance. Their drones, however, remain their greatest threat, apart from their war-moons.'
He glanced toward the star map of Advex-Mors and spoke to his aide.
"The system has six planets. The primary world is shielded by war-moons; one inner planet lies close to the star. The outer four worlds are beyond the war-moons' range; our first objectives are clear. We take them."
As he issued the order, more and more light-points appeared on the projection.
The Shadow of Order fleet expanded its formation, advancing with the Ramilies at its core.
Then, chaos erupted.
The auger arrays of the fleet read nothing, no enemy ships in range. Fire Gunnery Officers could not lock on targets. Yet the next instant,
Hundreds of Rangdan battleships struck.
White arcs of energy lanced across the void, ripping into the forward Imperial vessels.
The black battleships' void shields flared, overloading in seconds before collapsing under the blinding barrage.
The Rangdan ships were monstrous, barbed and grotesque, bristling with spines and flails, utterly alien.
Their white lances of energy struck Imperial engines, no explosions, no fire, just annihilation.
Each stricken ship vanished, leaving only a charred shadow drifting in the dark.
The Rangdan's Shadow Blasters unleashed radioactive electromagnetic detonations, erasing over a dozen battleships, including two capital ships, in their opening volley.
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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