Isolating the data committed by the Rosetta's main bank augur array, Korvane reviewed the minute immediately preceding the explosion. Luneberg's vessels had closed in on the tau fleet, but their weapons had failed to fire upon their targets, that much was clear. More data scrolled across the screen, until, there! A signal had burst across local space and Luneberg's turrets had detonated.
So too had something deep within his own vessel.
'Sir! A shout came from a rating in the bridge pit. 'Sir, damage control parties report fires on decks seven through nineteen, fore, spreading fast!
'Damn it' he cursed. 'Get me-
Another explosion rocked the Rosetta, the deck plate buckling beneath Korvane's feet. The force threw him bodily against the main console bank, slamming the breath from his lungs and leaving him winded. He collapsed to the floor, rolling over and gasping to draw breath.
As he did so however, his lungs burst in agony as they drew in hot fumes, the stink of burning cables assaulting his senses. Coughing violently, he looked to the open access hatch in the middle of the bridge, from which a fountain of flames was erupting. He staggered to his feet, crossed the deck and hauled shut the metal blast hatch. His hands were burned as they closed on the superheated metal, but he gritted his teeth and slammed the hatch down, the flames spilling around its base for an instant, before they died.
'Damage control! he bellowed, slamming his fist upon the nearest intercom plate, praying it still functioned. 'Damage control to the bridge! He looked around the nightmarish scene. Thick, black smoke choked the space, sparks spitting from consoles and servitors both, while banks of static-filled data-screens provided the only, flickering, source of illumination.
For an instant, the smoke cleared and Korvane caught sight of the scene through the main viewing port. The Rosetta was listing drastically, and was drifting well out of station. She was moving, he saw with stark horror, right across the bows of the tau vessels. They were supposed to be on the same side, but he was filled with the sudden realisation that the alliance might well have been revoked in the light of his father's actions against the aliens. Would they respect the pact he had made with Droon?
His answer came an instant later, as the turrets of the nearest of the tau vessels rotated towards the stricken Rosetta. He saw with a rush of elation that, somehow, his vessel's shields remained raised, and were in fact holding strong at near full capacity. The tau vessel evidently saw this too, for it held fire, not wasting its shots.
Korvane watched in mute fascination as armoured blast doors opened along the tau vessel's flanks. Silhouetted against the pure, blue light that shone forth from within were rows upon rows of armoured figures.
As the distance between the two vessels closed to less than five hundred metres, the figures leapt into sudden movement, blue jets at their backs and ankles bursting into life and propelling them into space.
Korvane stood transfixed, barely noticing the damage control servitor stomping passed him, great jets of fire retardant gas spraying from the extinguisher units that replaced its arms. As the figures closed, he could see that they were some form of heavily armed and armoured suit, evidently built for extra-vehicular activity. What he could see were essentially torsos occupying the suits' central masses, small, head-like blocks perched atop them. The arms were great clamps, intended, he saw immediately, to attach themselves to any available structure, and hang on while the two great weapons mounted under each clamp burned through any but the most resistant hull. Upon the suits' backs were mounted complex manoeuvring jets, smaller clusters of which were also visible at the ankles and shoulders. He had never before seen their like, and two great waves were heading straight for his bridge.
Tracking their inevitable course snapped Korvane out of his shock. Praying that the communications arrays still functioned, he staggered back to the main command lectern, coughing as the powdery spray filling his bridge seared his already damaged lungs. He punched the console, awakening its machine spirit, and scanned the readouts for an open channel. He found one.
'Brielle! he called, knowing that the ship-to-ship channel was open and that his stepsister's vessel was nearby. 'Listen, Brielle, I need you to-
'Brielle? he turned the dial, boosting the signal, and was greeted by an explosion of angry static. 'Brielle, if you can hear this transmission, this is Rosetta, Brielle. This is Korvane. I'm crippled, and I have multiple fast moving class nines inbound on my bridge. If you can hear me, Brielle, I need you to close to point defence range… Brielle?
'Damn it! he cursed, certain that the channel was open and that his stepsister should have been able to hear his transmission, and to reply to it. He looked once more to the viewer, seeing that the tau suits were half way across the gulf between the two vessels.
Just one chance, he thought, activating the intercom plate. 'Torpedo deck, this is your captain. Do you receive? The intercom hissed and howled for a moment, before a voice replied, 'My lord? Yes sir, this is Second Under-Technician Kaerk, sir, the crew chiefs dead sir, but I-
'Chief Kaerk. Korvane replied, promoting the man on the spot for his simple act of answering his master's voice. 'Listen to me carefully Kaerk. What is the status of the torpedo?
'Sir? the voice replied, the noise of a crash sounding before it returned. 'It's in tube one sir, as it always is. Should I-
'Good! replied Korvane, offering a brief but heartfelt prayer of thanks to the God-Emperor of Mankind. 'Do you have fire control?
'Last thing the chief did sir, before he… was awaken the torpedo's spirit… said it looked like it might finally get its day!
Thank the Emperor for the non-commissioned ranks, Korvane thought. 'Listen Kaerk, I want you to launch the torpedo, on a ten second fuse. That's all, do you understand?
'Launch the torpedo sir? Launch «The» torpedo?
'Yes! Now!
'But it's the only one we've-
'Launch it now or Emperor help me I'll- the intercom sputtered, an explosion sounding in the distant torpedo deck and cutting the connection dead.
That's it then, thought Korvane. The torpedo had been his last chance, a last chance that the Rosetta had been hauling around the galaxy for over a decade, and now, he sighed, he would never fire it. He watched as the first of the tau suits closed on the wide viewing port, briefly debating with himself whether to lower the armoured blast shield. Little point, he decided, they'd be through it in seconds, it would only delay the inevitable.
Better to die with his ship, he decided, straightening his jacket and standing proud at the command lectern, as all good captains should.
The first of the tau suits closed on the armoured glass of the viewing port, its mighty clamps attaching themselves to protrusions on the vessel's outer hull. The under-slung weapons fired into life, blinding white light arcing from the short, rectangular barrel of each.
It began to cut, when Korvane felt the Rosetta lurch violently to starboard, causing him to stumble and grab hold of the lectern to maintain his balance. The movement was not that of the vessel suffering another explosion, but something else entirely, something he had not experienced since he had stood upon the deck of his father's vessel and watched in childlike wonder as the Oceanid unleashed upon a xenos vessel a fearsome torpedo attack!
The last torpedo in the Arcadius fleet ploughed through the dense formation of tau attackers, sending them scattering in every direction. Korvane barked the laughter of the insane, the laughter of those who know they have won, even as they welcome death. He locked his gaze with the single lens of the tau suit as it cut through the armoured glass, great gobbets of superheated, liquid material splashing across the metal deck of the bridge.