Chapter 3: Good Soldiers

"What by the name of Guilliman is wrong with the ship?!" Eighth Captain Nexus Lente yelled, having great difficulty making himself heard over the bleating of the alarms and the screams and creaks of their venerable Battle Barge, the Master of Light.

To the men within, it sounded as if the whole vessel was being assailed, surrounded and beaten by an unending rain of power fists. Chapter Master Orion Phatris sat in the center of the chaos, remaining composed as he observed the situation from within the cradle of his command throne. His gauntleted hands were tight about the arm rests, golden eyes sweepin the bridge, mind working to understand how this had gone so wrong. In truth, he would have fractured the flanks of a traditional stone throne, but the steel of his command throne resisted his grasp competently.

He had seen near unceasing war for over seven hundred years...Was this truly how the Emperor ended his service?

The warrior king shoved the thought back into the corners of his mind. Best to consider such things only after the event in question had come to pass. And yet, he could not prevent the thought from forcing on him the expectation that their doom was swiftly becoming more certain with every second that slid past. The disturbances had begun as soon as the fleet had entered the warp, slowly getting worse and worse with every daemonic meter they carved through the vile expanse of the immaterium.

"What's wrong with the ship?!" Captain Auralian called in answer, repeating the words of Captain Lente in a less than flattering imitation of the elder Marine's voice.

"We are flying through the traitor spawned warp without a willing Navigator! That's what's wrong with the Emperor damned ship!" He yelled.

A sudden loud chim brought their attention back to the bridge crew, half of whom were convulsing out of control as power surges and warp feed reactions coursed up their attached augmentations and neural interfaces, exposing their minds to the unfettered pains of the ship around them. One of them jerked, but not in agony, but realization.

"It isn't warp turbulence my Lords!" shouted one of the tech adepts, her wired, integrated body twitching somewhat as the machine spirit of the vessel fed her information directly.

"It's...it's the Gellar field my lord!" She yelled a moment later.

The implications of that cursed statement sank into the marines like a knife in the face, and they reacted with nary an instant of hesitation.

"Emperor's teeth!" The Captain cursed.

"Prepare for warp incursions!" Orion bellowed, raising himself unsteadily from his pitching, quaking throne, raising his massive, two handed sword, taking his helmet from one of his attendant bodyguards, and beginning to secure it to his head.

"No, my lord, it is not like that!" The Tech Adept yelled over the din of the bucking ship and the ringing and clicking of drawn weapons.

"Report!" He barked, holding off on the helmet to keep his ears and commands free of obstruction.

"The Gellar Field isn't failing...it's too powerful! It's not meeting with enough Delta vein resistance! My lord, if we do not power it down to an adequate output, the excess build up will continue to accumulate...It's going to tear the ship apart atom by atom if we don't adjust it!"

"Are you seriously suggesting weakening the Gellar Field during warp travel? Has Horus stolen all your damned sense?" Captain Aurallian boomed at her, barely stabilizing himself as the ship bounced again, the grav generators wavering in their strength and stability.

Orion grit his teeth. What was happening?! Delta vein, but none of the others? If they were flying through a null zone, the effects would be uniform, not...parsed in such an odd way! What's more, adjusting to weaken that particular defense would be dangerous, likely lethal, in the unabridged warp. The theoreticals, cycled in his mind, followed by the practical considerations, and then the surety of what would occur if nothing changed. All of this drove through him in but a few passing seconds.

"Do it!" The Chapter Master ordered.

"What?!" Aurallian yelled.

"As you command!" The Tech adept called, but Aurallian was on her almost before she could move, wrapping one of his massive gauntlets around her skull from behind.

"Take that field down and I'll take you down." He growled over the speakers in his helmet.

Captain Aurallian knew that they had little chance of survival if a Daemonic Incursion should occur, even with a flickering, fluctuating Gellar Field. But there would be no chance of survival if the whole field failed at once.

"Captain! Get off her! Crewman, do it now!" Orion roared, taking a few steps in their direction.

Captain Aurallian did not release the woman, though neither did he rip her head from her shoulders as her trembling hand reached up to the crank lever on her console, and slowly pulled it down below halfway. As she did, the whole ship began to calm, the rattling and pounding diminishing until it completely vanished.

"Gellar f-field holding at 31% output." She reported.

There was a pause then as everyone, with the exception of the tech adept herself, took a moment to express their relief as tense muscles slackened and held breaths rushed out as sighs. Even Captain Aurallian himself couldn't help grinning inside his helmet from the lifting of the sudden danger, though he had not opened his hand. Though Orion had also breathed out a gust of anxiety, his eyes had never left his subordinates.

"Captain Aurallian, your penance is already going to be severe." The Chapter Master said through gritted teeth.

"And it's only going to get worse the longer you ignore me. Release, now."

The Captain opened his hand and pulled away from the crewman like a man who had picked up a glowing coal by mistake, stepping back from the tech adept's control alcove.

"My apologies." He said to the Chapter Master, before turning to offer them to the adept as well, though it grated him to do so.

"To you as well."

The woman stared straight forward, shoulders trembling only slightly, though she did offer a stiff nod, not trusting her voice to speak.

"Back to your station Captain. Crew, report."

As the third Captain made his way back to his place near the Chapter Master, the various crewmen at different stations began to call out their readings.

"Ship formation is at cohesion."

The report came from a servitor, half fused into the wall of his control station, fingers mindlessly clicking against keyes as readings scrolled across its unblicking, bloodshot eyes.

"It is confirmed sir. Nearly all ships are experiencing the same turbulence we were, but with the exception of the Atlas of Steel, all ships are remaining within range of the main fleet. The eddies and currents of the warp appear...placid, my lord."

"I...Contact the fleet, give them instructions to level their Gellar field outputs out. Tell them it is a direct order from me!"

"Yes, lord!" The various men and women of the crew responded, before getting to work.

Orion stared at the large hololithic displays projected before him, eyes wide as he watched the fleet formation cue up. So many ships, all still lined up. All still on the path. All still alive.

He almost wanted to call for yet another confirmation, how was it possible? Ship formation cohesion? This many hours into the warp? Normally only about 70% or 60% of the fleet arrived at their destinations in formation, with a certain amount arriving before the rest of the fleet, a certain amount arriving long after, and a disturbing portion simply never being heard from again.

But full formation cohesion in the warp was...unheard of, impossible! And yet...

"Give me the last known status of the Atlas of Steel. What kind of ship is it?" The Chapter Master ordered.

"Yes Lord. It appears to be a Universe-Class Mass Conveyor, one of the five we managed to secure for the evacuation. The cargo here is listed as several megatons of ceramite, but they are likely carrying survivors from Kalastan and Jubilation of Tal. They appeared to be increasing their gellar field outputs just before they pulled ahead."

"Feth!" One of the captains spat.

"Has my message been sent yet?" Orion asked.

"Yes, my Lord! Confirmation sendings have been received from all ships. Most are complying."

"Most?" Growled the venerable space marine.

"Y-yes my lord! The Hand of Catastrophe, the Heart of Judgement, and the Pillar of Termination have not yet lowered their output levels, their ships are still shaking apart."

"Damn those green crews! Send the message again, make it clear that they WILL be destroyed if they persist, if not by the turbulence, then by ME at the conclusion of this jump! Tell them!"

The crewmen acknowledged again, and Orion sat down, laying back against the throne. There was nothing to do now...but wait to arrive. He wondered briefly, if the Atlas of Steel was lost, or if it would arrive months late. Or if it was already there, waiting for him and his fleet, along with whatever had been there already, waiting for them.

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"By the core…" Dr. Shina muttered.

Her wide eyes reflected the engine lights and sublight trails of hundreds of ships. The new armada, for that was what it was, ranged from the sleek, teardrop design of tens of Conqueror-class Assault Ships, to the lopsided hulks of KDY Class-C Frigates. And where they had started with only three Venator class Star Destroyers, two of which the chancellor provided for them, they now had nearly thirty.

"I had NO idea that Pzob was this close to Rothana." She muttered for perhaps the third time.

Rothana, an industrialized world surrounded by shipyards, was technically a subsidiary of Kuat Drive Yards, or was at least working in that capacity. That much Dr. Shina had known already. What she had not known about was that it was the rings of Rothana, not the well known shipyards at planet Kuat itself, that was physically supplying the Republic with over 70% of their war machines.

"I mussst sssay, it wasss a sssuprise to me asss well." Said Jedi Knight Renphi, arms crossed as he stood beside Dr. Shina on the bridge, both looking out through the huge viewing ports.

"It would appear that the location of Rothana hasss been a clossely guarded ssssecret until now. It isss fortunate that Kuat of Kuat saw it asss prudent to deploy the defenssse fleet here at our requessst."

"Nearly the entire KDY Corporate security Starfleet. I have to say, it's a...surprisingly proportional response." Dr. Shina said.

What she didn't say out loud, but wondered deeply, was just how the Supreme Chancellor had managed to coax this kind of reaction out of Kuat of Kuat, a man known to be as stubborn as he was rich. She looked around, only now noticing the two conspicuous absences in the room.

"General," She said cautiously.

"Where is CT1238? And where did your annoyingly insightful apprentice get off to?"

"Captain Kraken isss currently on the Bellejore. He wasss quite insissstent that we be commanding different command shipsss." Said Renphi.

He shrugged at his own words.

"To be honessst, I think he wasss jussst eager to command one of thossse updated Venator'sss. The captain hassss alwaysss been very keen on his sssstarshipsss. Asss for Gaphin, he isss ssstill meditating. He will continue to do ssso for another hour."

Shina tilted her head at the Jedi.

"You know, if he hadn't convinced me to report this to you, we might still be sitting here with only three ships."

The trandoshan made a strange hiss which Dr Shina realized was a laugh.

"That isss preccccissssely why that lassst hour will be hisss third hour only."

She didn't quite understand how that explained anything, and was about to say as much, when suddenly…

"Alert! We've got activity!"

Both scientist and Jedi snapped their gazes forward, eyes searching instinctively as they waited for the sensor's operator to elaborate. But Dr. Shina was shocked yet again, as her eyes picked out a...distortion?

"What isss it, ensssign?" The Jedi asked.

"It's...I don't know sir. I've never seen readings like these..." The clones said, leaning over his console as if he was simply not seeing it correctly. Dr. Shina rushed over to his station, looking at the readings herself.

"Well, guessss." Renphi ordered.

"I honestly don't know sir. A...black hole maybe?"

"What?!" The Jedi hissed.

"No." Dr. Shina corrected.

"It's not a singularity...it's a...a…" She stuttered, eyes shooting between the reedings on her screen, and the growing, rippling pool of purple and black energy.

"What isss it Doctor, tell me." Renphi insisted.

"It's a gate…" She said, uttering the words with an open sense of awe.

"Well, miss." The Clone beside her said.

"Your gate is opening pretty wide. Diameter of the anomaly is 1 kilometer and growing."

"Inform the fleet." Renphi ordered.

"Have them form up around usss and back off. We don't want to come off asss anymore hossstile than we have to."

"Are you insane?" Dr. Shina said suddenly, spinning to face the jedi.

"If we can get the drop on them, then we should! Even with the fleet we have here, the Armada, it still might not be enough! We have to use every advantage-"

"Doctor, I apprecciate your adviccce, but thisss isss my command. I will not fire on anyone without a more defined reassssson, and by assssembling ourssselves into an overtly hosstile formation, we give sssstrangersss an escussse to attack firssst."

Dr. Shina grit her teeth, but nodded. She knew she wouldn't get anywhere arguing with him, so she watched as the fleet began to reassemble itself, as the visible, writhing distortion grew larger and larger.

"Something is emerging from the anomaly." The clone at the sensors reported.

"How big? How many?" Asked Renphi.

But there was no need to answer, and the clone didn't bother, too stupified by what was transpiring before them. From the pulsating sphere of unnatural, swirling light, a single, unthinkably enormous ship slid out of the breach. It was like nothing Dr. Shina had ever seen before, and she briefly wondered if she were looking at some kind of space station, and not any kind of ship classification. But as its city sized engines belched flames and roared to life, she felt, to her horror, a realization gripping her. This was no stationary construct, but some kind of truly gargantuan starship!

"By the force…" The clone beside her breathed.

Dr. Shina looked down at the console, and then back up at the unnaturally bloated craft.

"12 Kilometers long, 3 kilometers high, and 2.5 wide." She reported in place of the clone.

"And it's damaged." She added.

"Confirm that!" Renphi ordered the clone.

The trooper did as he was bid, looking down over his screens and tapping on his controls.

"She's right sir, it's venting atmosphere around several of its decks, power fluctuations are being detected all across its structure...no shields detected. And it seems to be making its way towards Pzob."

"Isss it going to attempt a landing?" Renphi asked.

"I don't...Sir, one of the ships of the fleet is not obeying the muster at our lines!" The clone reported.

"What? Who?" Renphi asked.

"It's the...the Bellejore sir!"

"Captain Kraken? Hail him!"

There was a pause then, and Dr. Shina took the opportunity to look at the sensor suite again. Sure enough, there was Captain Kraken's Venator, far out of line with the rest of the fleet, on a clear intercept course with the outsider ship. From the looks of it, he had been moving towards it from the very moment it appeared.

"Well? Isss he resssponding?"

"No sir!"

"Interference? Jamming?" Renphi posited.

"Not from what it looks like sir. Contact with the rest of the fleet is operating normally. It almost looks like he's just-"

"Ignoring usss." Renphi growled.

"Order the nearessst shipsss to tractor beam hisss venator. Drag him back here!"

"I'm sorry General, but it looks like he is out of range. Should we pursue it?"

"No! He'sss on an intercccept courssse with the ship. If we give chassse after him, it will look like an attack."

"Then what Sir? What do we do?" Asked the clone.

Dr. Shina knew that it was impossible to see a Trandoshan sweat, after all, they had no sweat glands. Yet at that moment, she figured Renphi was the closest to sweating of any of his species. For several moments he simply stood, arms crossed, face stiff, frozen in place.

"Sir?"

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Captain Kraken had his orders, and he was good at following them. And not just because he was the best damn venator helmsman in the entire GAR. Not just because he could thread a hyperspace jump through in a zygerrian slave collar. Not just because the enemy capital ship was so stupidly large.

Captain Kraken was a good soldier. All the clones on the Bellejore were good soldiers. They knew what the Republic expected of them, what the Supreme chancellor ordered from them. They knew why they were made. To be good soldiers.

"Good soldiers follow orders."

He activated the special jump setting on the Bellejore, disabling the hyperdrive inhibitor safety. The Captain waited until the massive ship completely swallowed up all the front facing view ports, until there was no possible way that he could proceed forward in any direction and not slam directly into the nearly unimaginable hulk of thrust and metal. And with a blank, satisfied smile, Captain Kraken, loyal Clone commander of the Galactic Republic, activated his ship's hyperdrive, and was no more.