Uriel raced to the bridge, hearing the desperate vox-traffic travelling between the ships of the fleet, dismayed at the sheer carnage unleashed. His armour was blackened and his leg flared painfully as he ran. The tyranid creatures were all dead and the damaged areas of the ship were finally secured.
He couldn't believe what the Mortifactors had done. Breaking the battle line and charging forward to engage the hive ship at close quarters was about as far from the teachings of the primarch as it was possible to get.
He mounted the steps to the bridge three at a time, sheathing his bloodied sword and sprinting through the arched entrance to the command bridge. Lord Admiral Tiberius turned as he entered, his face set in a mask of controlled fury.
'Uriel, thank the Emperor,' said the master of the Vae Victus.
'The boarders are repelled,' reported Uriel, staring in horror at the viewing bay as the Mortifactors' ship was slowly engulfed by the tyranid craft. Its bombardment cannon continued to fire, even as it was slowly being taken apart.
'What have they done?' he whispered.
Tiberius shook his head, words failing the ancient admiral. Then the battered shape of a Sword class frigate hove into view, trailing blazing plumes of venting plasma and golden streamers of sparks and freezing oxygen.
'Guilliman's blood, look!' shouted Philotas, as the prow of the Mariatus swung around and ploughed straight into the heart of the creature attacking the Mortis Probati.
The hull of the Imperial vessel buckled as it struck the hardened carapace of the tyranid creature, but its forward momentum could not be denied and it cracked through the flesh of the beast, spewing its bodily fluids all across the hull of the Space Marine vessel. It thrashed in its death agonies, releasing the strike cruiser and tumbled away with the Mariatus embedded deep within its body.
As valiant as the sacrifice of the Mariatus had been, there were tyranid ships aplenty to finish off the Mortis Probati, but before any could react to its unexpected survival, she unleashed a final shot from her bombardment cannon that struck a knotted growth tucked away at the rear of the hive ship. Bright liquid spurted from the wound like an enormous geyser and a visible shudder ran the length of the hive ship as the main synapse link to its attendant bio-ships was severed.
Kryptman saw the great wound spew the hive ship's lifeblood into space and the listless drifting of the drone ships that surrounded it. His eyes flickered from bio-ship to bio-ship as he saw them pause in their relentless attack.
'Their connection to the hive mind is severed!' yelled Kryptman, spinning to face de Corte so quickly he almost fell. 'We must attack before it is restored! Immediately!'
Admiral Bregant de Corte nodded to Lieutenant Viert, who still stood between him and Jaemar. 'Mister Viert, order all ships forward. Let's close and finish this beast.'
While the tyranid ships drifted in confusion, the captains of the Sword of Retribution, the Luxor, the Yermetov and the Argus all closed as quickly as possible, their gun decks loading and firing as fast as their crew chiefs could whip their gun gangs. The Vae Victus and Arx Praetora squadron swooped in and tore the underside of the tyranid vessel apart in a flurry of well-aimed fire. Fusillade after fusillade of explosive shells and lasblasts hammered the tyranid ship, pulverising vast sections of its carapace and spraying jets of ichor in all directions.
Feeder tentacles vainly attempted to swat away the attacking craft, but their swipes were drunken and uncoordinated. The smaller organisms protecting the hive ship threw off their lethargy, returning to their basic, instinctual desires, but by then it was too late. The Imperial ships were in textbook positions to deliver the deathblow to nearly every one of the drone ships. As though on range practice at Bakka, the Sword of Retribution bracketed one tyranid ship after another, annihilating them with powerful broadsides.
The battered Mortis Probati limped towards the listing hive ship and, in respect to her crew's reckless heroism, every other ship in the fleet hung back, allowing Captain Gaiseric to take the killing shot.
Fluid and fleshy entrails drifted from the mortally wounded beast, its alien lifeblood pumping into space from ruptured arteries and ruined organs. Those tentacles that had not been blasted off twitched spasmodically, and through a great rent. In its upper carapace a vast, pulsing organ could be seen, labouring to keep the beast alive.
A single shell from the strike cruiser's bombardment cannon punched through the tough, fleshy outer layer of the hive ship's heart and detonated within its massive ventricle chambers. The explosion blasted the organ to shredded tissue and with a final, juddering spasm, the hive ship died.
Admiral de Corte breathed a sigh of relief and his bridge crew cheered as they watched the death of the hive ship, its massive heart utterly destroyed by the Mortifactors. De Corte knew he should be furious with Captain Gaiseric for breaking the battle line, but could not deny the fact that his actions had been key to the tyranids' defeat. They went against everything taught at the naval academies, but de Corte knew that the truly great captains were the ones who could sometimes break all the teachings and still emerge victorious.
He didn't yet know if Captain Gaiseric fell into that category, or whether he had just been hugely lucky. Publicly, he would espouse the former, but privately, he suspected the latter. Had it not been for the valiant, but ultimately wasteful sacrifice of Captain Payne's ship, then the corpses of the Mortifactors would even now be joining the listing body of the hive ship. Watching the massive vessel haemorrhaging into the darkness, he mouthed a short prayer to the battle spirits that invested his ship, thanking them for their faithful service in this fight.
'Make a note, Mister Viert,' said de Corte. 'Commission a new victory seal to be added to our glorious ship's honour banner.'
'Aye sir, and perhaps a service of thanks?'
'Yes, a service of thanks to be held in the ship's chapels at vespers for all crew. Thank you, Mister Viert.'
The admiral linked his hands behind his back and returned to his command lectern as Inquisitor Kryptman shuffled along the nave to join him.
'A great victory,' said the admiral, loud enough to be heard by his entire bridge crew.
Kryptman nodded. 'A victory, yes. It remains to be seen whether it is a great one.'
The admiral leaned in close to Kryptman and whispered, 'You and I both know that this engagement has cost us dearly, but it will avail us nothing if we allow our crews to know how costly. I would appreciate your support in this matter.'
Kryptman looked ready to snap back at de Corte, but nodded curtly. 'You are correct, Admiral de Corte. Morale is crucial at this point.'
De Corte accepted Kryptman's acquiescence gracefully and began issuing the orders that would see his fleet disengage from Barbarus Prime and fall back to the orbital docks of Chordelis.
For the viewing bay was filled with a multitude of tyranid creatures rising from their feeding: a collection of hive ships and drones that dwarfed the group they had just destroyed. The Battle of Barbarus had been won, but in the face of such a vast fleet, it would be folly to fight again without first regrouping and rearming.
This had been a great victory, but it was just the tip of the iceberg. The real battles were yet to come.