'What are their tactics? How will they attack?'
'I do not know, Uriel. They will test us first, probe us for weakness and learn what they can before committing their main force. We are fortunate to have caught them feeding. We won't have to face their full strength.'
Uriel watched the multitude of organisms advancing on the Vae Victus and gave thanks for that small mercy. For if this was but a fraction of the strength of the tyranids, then their full might was something to be truly dreaded.
Lord Inquisitor Kryptman watched the same scene from the bridge of the Argus, the flagship of Admiral Bregant de Corte and this battlefleet. He watched the enormous creature detach from feeding and rise to challenge them. He had fought the tyranids for almost the entire span of his life and he could remember no emotion save hatred towards them. As he watched the planet below die, he was gratified to note that his hatred burned no less strongly than before.
The approaching hive ship was not the biggest he had ever seen, that honour belonged to the beast at the head of the hive fleet that had engulfed the world of Graia, but it was still a giant, perhaps three kilometres in length.
'Loathsome things,' observed Admiral de Corte.
'Aye,' agreed Kryptman, 'but lethal. They are armed with fearsome symbiote weaponry, sprays of acid, bio-plasma and hordes of warrior organisms that can be ejaculated from the orifices in its stony hide.'
'Our weapons are blessed by the Emperor and we will prevail,' de Corte assured him.
Kryptman nodded and pointed to the mist of spores surrounding the beast. 'Look here, admiral. That veil of spores is so thick it will protect the creature from all but the most determined of attackers.'
'Lord inquisitor,' said Admiral de Corte, his voice betraying the tension the entire bridge crew were feeling. 'I request your permission to commence the attack.'
'Yes…' nodded Kryptman, staring in macabre fascination at the wide tactics table depicting the converging fleets. 'Commence the attack.'
Blank faced logisticians connected directly to the ship's surveyor systems ringed the wide table - gridded with spatial coordinates - using long, flat-headed poles to move scale representations of the various ships of the fleet.
The Admiral nodded curtly and spun on his heel, marching towards his commander's lectern. Bregant de Corte was a tall, wiry man, with gaunt, pinched features and a thin, pencil moustache. His admiral's uniform hung from his emaciated frame and, upon meeting him for the first time, many found it hard to believe that this was the man who had destroyed the Ork raiders of Charadax, who had ended the piracy of Khaarx Bloodaxe and whose masterful strategy had halted the K'Nib from invading the Sulacus Rim.
He stood behind the lectern, pouring himself a glass of amasec from the crystal decanter that always sat there and taking a deep breath. He took a moment to look around his bridge, allowing seconds to pass before issuing his orders. It was important that he not appear intimidated by the alien fleet approaching and his calm demeanour would be a guide for the rest of his crew to follow.
He drained the glass of amasec and said, 'My compliments to you all, and I wish you honour in this glorious battle.'
Jaemar, the ship's commissar, nodded in approval at the admiral's words.
A naval rating, traditionally the youngest man on the ship, approached the admiral. Sweat glistened on his brow as he asked, 'Is the word given, admiral?'
Admiral de Corte replaced the glass on the lectern and said, 'The word is given. Issue all ships with the order to attack. Glo-riam Imperator! '
The two fleets drew closer, though the ranges between them could still be measured in tens of thousands of kilometres. The ships of the Imperial fleet spread out as the attack order filtered through to the various captains and the admiral's plan began to unfold. There appeared to be no strategy evident in the tyranids' approach, the bio-creatures rising to meet their enemy in a homogenous mass.
The Space Marine strike cruisers, together with the rapid strike cruisers of Arx Praetora squadron, advanced before the armoured behemoths of the battleship Argus and the Overlord battlecruiser, Sword of Retribution.
A trio of Sword frigates flew in a picket line before the fleet, supported by two Dauntless light cruisers, the Yermetov and the Luxor. Their fearsome lance arrays were sure to be decisive in the coming engagement and de Corte was taking no chances with their safety.
To either flank of the fleet, two squadrons of Cobra destroyers, Cypria and Hydra, surged ahead of the main fleet, their cavernous torpedo bays loaded with sanctified weapons and their pilots eager to unleash them upon the foe.
The massive hive ship at the centre of the tyranid swarm shuddered as though in the grips of a powerful seizure and expelled millions of spores, trailing glistening birth streamers as they sped away from its toughened hide.
The majestically swooping manta creatures moved as though swimming in a deep ocean, their wide, chitinous wings rippling with the motion of the solar wind. The bladed creatures that flocked around their birth queen swarmed forwards in a wave of seething claws, overcome with the instinctual urge to destroy those who threatened the hive.
The Battle of Barbarus had begun.
'Order the Sword frigates to push forwards,' said Admiral de Corte. 'Those beasts at the head of the fleet are increasing speed. I don't want them in my battle line.'
'Aye, sir,' replied Jex Viert, his senior flag lieutenant, conveying the order to the signals officer.
De Corte studied the observation bay, trying to guess how the tyranids would react to their movements. So far, he did not rate the tactical acumen of the enemy, if such a thing existed in the tyranid fleet, and he allowed himself a tight smile. He watched as the logisticians began moving the Sword frigates forward with their poles.
'These ships that approach us, Lord Kryptman, what can you tell me about them?'
The inquisitor walked stiffly along the nave of the command bridge to stand before the apse of the observation bay. He leaned closer, as though studying the creatures more closely and shook his head slowly.
'They are drone creatures, nothing more, though they are extremely resilient. I call them kraken and the will of the hive mind controls them. Do not allow them to close with you, they are filled with all manner of deadly warrior creatures.'
'I understand. Mister Viert, issue orders that no captain is to allow any alien organisms to approach to within five thousand kilometres of his ship.'
'Five thousand kilometres. Aye, sir.'
Satisfied his order would be obeyed with alacrity, de Corte returned his gaze to the observation bay. One of the larger creatures was detaching itself from the main body of the tyranid fleet, using short flaps of its wide wings to power itself forwards in sporadic spurts of motion.
'Hydra squadron to take up blocking position on the right flank. Order the Sword of Retribution to follow the frigates in. Yermetov and Luxor to escort her.'