And the refinery followed behind them, gaining more and more speed as it returned to the Imperial battle line.
Admiral Tiberius suddenly realised what was happening and shouted, 'Philotas, open a channel to Admiral de Corte. Now!'
'Admiral?'
'Hurry, Philotas!' shouted Tiberius, descending from his command pulpit and running to the communications station as Philotas held out the brass headset and hand-vox.
The vox officer nodded as the clipped tones of Admiral de Corte and hissing static crackled from the gold-rimmed speaker on the panel.
'Admiral Tiberius, make this quick, I have pressing concerns just now.'
'Destroy the refinery. Now. The tyranids are pulling it back towards our battle line.'
'What? Are you sure?'
'I'm sure, admiral. Check your auguries if you must, but do it quickly.'
'You must be mistaken, Tiberius. How could the tyranids possibly even have the capacity to understand our intentions?'
'They learn, admiral. I should have known that we could not pull the same trick twice with these beasts. Please, admiral, we don't have time for debate. Destroy it now!'
'I shall have my surveyor officers confirm what you say, but I am unwilling to destroy so potent a weapon on a whim. De Corte out.'
Tiberius handed the headset back to the Space Marine at the vox station and marched back to the plotting table. Quickly he scanned the positioning of the Imperial fleet and felt his skin crawl as he realised the scale of the disaster that could soon befall the Imperial fleet unless they took swift action. Philotas joined the admiral, furiously entering figures into his navigational slate.
'If we move now, we can intercept the refinery, lord admiral,' he said.
'Do it. All ahead full, divert all available power to the auto loaders for the prow cannon. I want to be able to hit that refinery with everything we've got. And contact Captain Gaiseric on the Mortis Probati and get him to join us, we'll need his ship too.'
'Aye, sir. All ahead full,' shouted Philotas, relaying the admiral's order.
Tiberius felt the deck shifting and prayed that they were in time.
'Well?' asked Admiral de Corte, impatiently.
'It would seem Admiral Tiberius is correct,' replied Jex Viert, his voice betraying his anxiety. 'The refinery does appears to be closing with us now.'
Hot fear dumped into Bregant de Corte's system as he realised the ramifications of this new information. He nodded to his flag lieutenant.
'Order the nova cannon to fire!' shouted Jex Viert. 'Signal all ships to open fire. Now, for the Emperor's sake, now!'
No, thought Admiral de Corte, not for the Emperor's, for ours.
Colossal energies hurled the explosive shell from the breech of the nova cannon on the prow of the Argus and sent it streaking on a blazing plume towards the tyranid fleet. Travelling at close to five thousand kilometres per second, the shell closed the gap between the foes in a little under twenty-five seconds. As it closed to within fifteen thousand kilometres, blazing arcs of blue lightning surged outwards from the rippling plates of the creatures that surrounded the muscle beasts dragging the refinery, enveloping the missile's shell. Instantly, the shell exploded in an expanding cloud of burning plasma, its shattered remnants spinning off into space.
The crackling, lightning spitters and the beasts with giant sail-like appendages took up station before the refinery as a flurry of shells and energy blasts slashed towards it. A thick morass of spores and tyranid creatures swarmed forward, exploding and spilling their lifeblood as they absorbed the mass of firepower directed at the refinery. Lance beams cut through spores and burned alien flesh before finally striking the reflective sails of the winged beasts that escorted the lightning spitters. The sails' honeycombed structure dissipated much of the lance beams' strength, rendering them harmless as they scored the structure of the refinery, but failed to penetrate its metal hide.
Starhawk bombers and Fury interceptors surged from the launch bays of the Kharloss Vincennes, attempting to punch a hole through the tyranid screen, but every gap they blasted was soon filled with even more alien beasts. Eventually, the commander of the furies, Captain Owen Morten, pulled his surviving craft back to the carrier to refuel and rearm. Just because a task was impossible was no reason to give up.
No matter how hard the Imperial Navy hit, they could not penetrate the screen of tyranid creatures protecting the refinery and without the drag of friction, its speed increased until it was hurtling towards the Imperial battle line.
'Nothing is getting through!' shouted Philotas.
'Keep firing,' ordered Tiberius, his voice strained.
'Aye, sir.'
Tiberius's jaw muscles bunched in anxiety as he watched the rippling series of explosions bursting before the Vae Victus. Her firepower, normally so fearsome in battle, was availing her nothing as every shell from her bombardment cannon was intercepted by a tyranid creature sent to its death by the alien imperative of the hive mind.
Hundreds of beasts were dying, but they were achieving what the hive mind desired.
Nothing could touch the refinery.
Admiral de Corte gripped the arms of his command chair as the Argus canted to starboard. The massive vessel was slowly moving from the path of the oncoming refinery, but even without asking, he could tell they weren't going to make it. The fleet was scattering from its path as quickly as it could, but even at cruising speed a vessel as vast as a Victory class battleship took time to turn, and even longer from anchor.
Withering salvoes of massed gunnery from the defence monitors and system ships had prevented the approaching kraken from breaking their battle line, but nothing could halt the inexorable approach of the refinery.
'Estimated time to lethal range, Mister Viert?'
'Forty seconds, sir.'
'Get us clear, Philotas,' ordered Tiberius. The closure speeds of the refinery and the Vae Victus was such that, in the time it would take to load and fire another shell from the bombardment cannon, the massive structure would be past them before the shell could arm itself.
Tiberius angled his stance as the prow of the strike cruiser rose and the refinery swiftly vanished from the viewing bay. The admiral could feel the deck shudder beneath him as its hull groaned under the pressure of such violent manoeuvring and the thump of fire from her broadsides and close-in guns as smaller tyranid organisms shearing from the refinery's protective swarm threatened to overwhelm her. Without her complement of Space Marine defenders, Tiberius knew that to allow the tyranids to board the Victus would seal its fate.
'Estimated time to lethal range, Philotas?'
'Twenty seconds, Lord admiral.'
Salvoes of torpedoes exploded amongst the vanguard of the guardian swarm, killing alien organisms in their fiery blasts, but nothing could penetrate the thick mass of creatures forced to give up their existence in service of the hive mind. Less than sixty thousand kilometres separated the fleet from the refinery now. And at its current speed, that meant about ten seconds.
'All hands, abandon ship!' bellowed Admiral de Corte as the proximity alarms of the Argus began blaring. The sacristy bell chimed again and again, warning - as though warning were needed - of the imminent collision of the refinery. He knew it was a wasted breath, none of the ship's lifeboats would be able to get clear of the blast radius of the refinery, but he had to try. Their doom filled the viewing bay, hurtling towards them with awful finality and, in the few seconds left to him, he stood and marched to the centre of the command nave.