[Orders transmit from the Tempestus battle barge's bridge in rapid bursts of coded vox traffic.]
[Dozens of Thunderhawk transports, their hulls painted in the iron gray and blue of the Astral Knights, carry one hundred warriors away from their Chapter. Each transport also bears precious supply containers and the revered forms of ancient Dreadnoughts, those venerable warriors entombed in walking sarcophagi. The Thunderhawks move in solemn procession, slowly entering the Ultramarines' main battleship through its vast hangar bays.]
[It's a funeral. Everyone knows it, though no one speaks the words aloud.]
[Afterward, the remaining combined fleet immediately executes a coordinated retreat. Every ship withdraws to positions far behind the engagement line, their engines flaring as they pull back to a safe distance.]
[In the cold void ahead, no frigates provide flanking cover. No escorts screen the approach. The Tempestus battle barge stands alone as the sole spearhead of this final attack, isolated against the infinite darkness.]
[You've donned your metal helmet now, the seals hissing as they lock into place. You stand on the cabin deck leading the entire remaining strength of the Astral Knights, seven hundred warriors arrayed in perfect formation behind you.]
[A large number of assault vehicles idle with their engines running, their hulls vibrating with contained power. A small number of drop pods stand ready, their hatches sealed and launch systems armed. These will be the second wave, if there is one.]
[Countless precious technological relics and master-crafted power weapons are being distributed by the Chapter's tech-sergeants. Each Astral Knight receives his chosen instruments of war with reverent care: ancient chainswords that have tasted blood across millennia, power fists that crackle with barely contained energy, storm bolters whose machine spirits are already singing for battle.]
[You're even considerate enough to personally hand each battle-brother a melta bomb as a blessing. The cylindrical charges are heavy in your gauntleted hands, their surfaces warm with contained fusion. You meet each warrior's eyes as you pass them out, a silent acknowledgment of what's coming.]
[Inside the bridge of the core cabin, Fleet Master Sheherz's orders flow to every station with practiced efficiency. His voice is calm, steady, betraying none of the fury and sorrow churning beneath.]
[The damage control teams, composed of countless mortal crew members in their orange void suits, quickly carry repair servitors toward critical locations. They move through corridors at a run, the servitors' tracked wheels whirring as they're guided toward the bow and the ship's vulnerable belly. These teams position themselves in advance, ready for the hell about to be unleashed.]
[Their presence will marginally increase the chances of success for the upcoming violent collision. Every percentage point matters now.]
[Then even the few remaining fighter squadrons on the hangar deck launch into the cold void. They leap from their berths like worker bees defending their hive, small and fragile against the immensity of space but utterly fearless.]
[When everything is prepared, when every soul aboard has made their peace, the Tempestus battle barge launches itself forward. It doesn't hesitate. The reactor engines scream to full power, pouring every ounce of thrust into a terrifying charge through the void ahead.]
[The acceleration presses against everyone aboard, a physical weight that would crush unaugmented humans. Even through your power armor, you feel the deck thrumming beneath your magnetic boots.]
[The battle barge has only one goal now: the planetary weapon warship known as the World Engine, currently approaching Wavencaster with inexorable certainty.]
[As the distance between you and the Necron construct continues to shrink, closing from thousands of kilometers to hundreds, the World Engine takes notice of your existence.]
[The massive sphere immediately ceases its forward momentum, that huge body arresting its motion with casual disregard for physics. The entire structure rotates with ponderous grace, the round sphere turning to face you directly.]
[According to intelligence you've painstakingly deduced through observation and sacrifice, that particular facing is where the construct's main weapons are concentrated. Arrays of Gauss cannons and particle beams, each capable of vaporizing capital ships.]
[It's also the place where you must be most cautious. And where you must strike.]
[The next moment, a swarm of crescent-shaped alien fighters suddenly rises from within the thick dark clouds beneath the World Engine's silver shield. They emerge in formations of impossible precision, hundreds of Necron craft accelerating toward the Tempestus battle barge's position.]
[Without waiting for orders from the bridge, your few remaining fighter squadrons immediately surge forward to intercept. The pilots know their duty without being told.]
[Even if they must use their own vehicles as the final weapon, ramming enemy craft when ammunition runs dry, they will clear a path for the battle barge. Their lives are already spent; only the manner of their spending remains.]
[Countless scorching lasers and plasma spears cut through the cold void in crisscrossing patterns of light. The Tempestus battle barge's defensive turrets join the engagement, dozens of weapon arrays adding their fire to resist the fierce assault of the alien fighter swarm.]
[Green Gauss beams answer in return, their color sickly and wrong against the darkness. They penetrate the Tempestus's colorful void shields as if those energy barriers were tissue, punching through to score the hull beneath.]
[The massive metal body of the battle barge suffers considerable damage almost instantly. Hull plates buckle and tear. Atmosphere vents from breaches in white plumes that freeze immediately. Fires blossom in compartments where oxygen feeds them before being snuffed out by automatic countermeasures.]
[But Procellas, the shipborne machine soul, has taken complete control of the Tempestus battle barge in perfect synchronization with Fleet Master Sheherz. Their coordination is flawless, human intuition merged with mechanical precision.]
[A considerable number of ship operations that mortal crew members could never perform begin manifesting in the cold void. The battle barge moves with impossible grace for something so massive.]
[Side defense turrets rotate to firing angles that should be mechanically impossible, tracking targets beyond their normal traverse limits. Laser arrays and plasma light spears fire in coordinated barrages, each shot calculated to maximum efficiency. Alien fighters explode in brilliant green flares as they're torn apart, clearing a corridor through the swarm.]
[You can feel the change in the ship's movement through the deck beneath your boots. The sailing speed has undergone an earth-shaking transformation. The Tempestus battle barge dances through the void like something alive, responding to threats before they fully develop.]
[Soon after, the scarred and bleeding vessel escapes the worst of the alien fighter swarm's entanglement. A handful of your own fighters survive to escort you, their wings torn and engines trailing plasma. Together, this battered formation continues its indomitable and terrifying charge toward the World Engine.]
["Captain!" Fleet Master Sheherz's voice erupts inside your helmet, urgent but controlled. "Five minutes until final impact! But most of the battle barge's hull is severely damaged. We cannot implement a soft landing!"]
[His words paint a clear picture: they'll hit hard, harder than any vessel should survive. The structural integrity is compromised. The impact will tear the ship apart.]
["Then start the counter-thrust engines!" You give the order without the slightest hesitation. "Let Procellas control the battle barge to force a hard landing! As long as the boarding teams can successfully reach the World Engine's surface, we've succeeded!"]
[Your magnetic boots lock firmly to the metal deck, the clamps engaging with audible clicks. Around you, every Astral Knight does the same, securing themselves against what's coming.]
[The continuous bombardment from enemy fighters and the explosive shock of the ship's own dying systems make your tall body sway slightly despite the mag-locks. The deck shudders beneath you like a wounded beast.]
[The Tempestus battle barge, with no way out and no possibility of retreat, opens the reactor engines to absolute maximum. Every safety protocol is overridden. The power output climbs into the red, then beyond into ranges that will eventually cause cascade failures.]
[The huge metal hull pours all defensive turret firepower into the nearby void in desperate suppressing fire. At the same time, under Procellas's control, it displays miraculous flexibility and maneuverability even as silver light spears from the World Engine lance through space toward you.]
[The ship jukes and weaves, plasma drives firing at angles that stress the superstructure to its limits. Light spears miss by meters, by dozens of meters, their passing close enough that you can see the silver glow through the viewport.]
["Three minutes to impact!" Sheherz's roar fills your helmet again.]
[You take a deep breath, tasting recycled air through your armor's respirator. You wave your hands quickly to the Astral Knights and vehicle drivers who have maintained absolute silence behind you.]
[Every battle-brother immediately lowers his head to perform final weapons checks. Storm bolters are examined with practiced hands, ammunition feeds confirmed, firing mechanisms tested. Various heavy weapons are gripped tight in ceramite gauntlets. Power weapons secured to backpack mountings receive one last inspection, their energy cells verified at full charge.]
[Violent shocks and explosions continue to rock the vessel. The deck heaves beneath you like ocean waves.]
[Wisps of black smoke begin appearing in your field of vision, drifting through the hangar atmosphere. Even through your helmet's air filters, you catch the acrid smell of burning hull material, of melting plasteel and scorched wiring.]
[You see them then: bloody mortal crew members, their void suits torn and stained crimson, leading repair servitors through the interior of the hangar deck. They stumble over debris, supporting injured comrades, desperately running toward other cabin sections on the verge of catastrophic collapse. They're trying to save the ship even as it dies around them.]
[You never officially announced your plan to these mortal crew members. The full scope of this suicide charge was kept from them.]
[Except for your Astartes brothers, only Captain Gretus and the Navigator knew about this final, desperate action. Only they understood from the beginning that this was a one-way journey.]
[But all the crew chose to believe in your judgment anyway. They decided to live and die with the Tempestus battle barge, to see this through to whatever end awaited.]
["One minute to impact!" Fleet Master Sheherz's roar interrupts your thoughts, cutting through the chaos. "All crew members, seek shelter immediately! Brace for collision!"]
[You take one more deep breath, filling your lungs completely. Your ceramite gauntlet tightens around the storm bolter's grip, the weapon feeling solid and real in your hands.]
["Impact countdown... fifty-five... fifty-four..." Procellas's mechanical voice suddenly echoes through every speaker in your helmet.]
[The cold, precise tone somehow reveals the last trace of nostalgia and attachment to the void of the universe. Even a machine soul can mourn its own ending.]
["Procellas." Your voice is steady, calm. "Start full-frequency broadcast. Target: everyone."]
["Thirty... twenty-nine..." The machine soul's countdown continues without pause, but you see a green indicator light suddenly illuminate inside your helmet's display. The broadcast channel is open. Every soul on this ship can hear you now.]
["To all Navy crew members and battle-brothers..." You begin, choosing your words with care. "Some people say that death is the end of everything. But I think before this end, we can at least do something noble for the Imperium of Man. Something that makes us worthy of being called warriors who fight alongside the God-Emperor."]
[You blink once, deliberately, then continue with solemn gravity.]
["I am the Chapter Master of the Astral Knights, and also a coin sent by the Emperor into the game of fate. Regardless of whether the outcome of this battle brings success or failure, it is my greatest honor to fight side by side with all of you. Every single one."]
[Around you, the Astral Knights stand silent and proud. In the bridge, mortal crew members grip their stations with white knuckles. Throughout the dying ship, warriors and sailors alike hear your words and stand straighter despite their fear.]
[The buzzing of alarms fills every deck, a cacophony of warnings that no one heeds anymore. The countdown to impact approaches its final end, each second feeling both infinite and instantaneous.]
[The World Engine grows to fill the viewport completely, its silver shield shimmering with alien power. The distance closes to nothing.]
["Three... two... one!"]
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