13th Black Crusade - In the Teeth of the Storm: And so, a shrunken fleet of battered vessels and weary souls left Cadia's orbit, and set course for the system's edge. The Eye of Terror, no longer contained, spilled from its ancient bounds, a crimson trail of roiling flame bleeding through the Cadian Gate and into the galaxy.There was no jubilation aboard the fleet, no sense of victory, despite the odds endured. Too many had perished before Greyfax issued her evacuation order, and even then a bare fraction of Cadia's surviving outposts had heard the desperate Vox-cast. At the 13th Black Crusade's inception, Cadia had been a world of some 850 million souls. Scarce 3 million now sought salvation from Abaddon's forces. The legend of Cadia might yet one day endure on another, distant world, but now its bloodlines teetered on the brink.From the outset, Warp travel was decreed unwise, the starships' Navigators unable to see safe routes through the Immaterium. With the fall of the pylons, the navigable corridor of the Cadian Gate was collapsing in upon itself -- there was no surer way to embrace oblivion than risk those turbulent tides. So it was that the fleet's Plasma Drives were pushed up to -- and sometimes beyond -- their limits.Once more under Tor Garadon's command, Phalanx took the lead, the threat of its guns driving Traitor Cruisers from the evacuation's path. Behind came the battle-scarred vessels of the Imperial Navy, and those few civilian voidcraft that had survived Cadia's fall. Last came the Mechanicus vessels of Belisarius Cawl. The Adepts of Mars had come late to the Cadian war zone, and their ships were the least damaged as a consequence. As the evacuee fleet crawled beyond the horizon of Cadia's gravity well, this changed.Inured to the dangers of travel within the Eye of Terror's corona, Abaddon's most opportunistic captains now swarmed in relentless pursuit. The void blazed with light as waves of corsairs braved the Adeptus Mechanicus broadsides to claim prizes amongst the retreating fleet. All perished, their atoms scattered across the collapsing Cadian Gate by the unfaltering fire of Cawl's fleet, but few without leaving their mark.Twenty solar hours into the retreat, the Dictator-class Cruiser Hand of Satarael was crippled by enemy fire, to the loss of all hands and ten thousand souls. In the next ten solar hours, two Frigates and a Light Cruiser met the same fate. Cawl bore the losses stoically, interpreting them as penance for his hubris on Cadia, and exhorted his Servitor-crews to further effort.Forty solar hours into the retreat, the Plasma Drives failed on the agri-hauler, Pride of St. Cerephos. Faced with the choice of risking the whole fleet for the sake of those crammed like a slaughter-herd into the hauler's hold, Garadon took aboard what sparse transport craft escaped the wreck, but reluctantly abandoned the Pride to the enemy. The captains of the Emperor's Wrath and Dominus Victor, appalled at Garadon's pragmatism, defied his orders and went to the Pride's aid.Their choice proved noble, but foolish. Scarce half of the Cadian soldiers aboard the Pride of St. Cerephoshad had been taken aboard the two Battleships when the leading edge of the Black Fleet caught up with them. Emperor's Wrath died without ever disengaging its docking beams, torn apart by a Traitor's broadside. Dominus Victor broke away, fires blazing all along its starboard flank but its Plasma Drives roaring at full force. With fortune and perseverance, it might even have regained the safety of Cawl's rearguard, had not its captain been slain during the fight. In panic, his subordinate ordered an emergency Warp jump, even knowing the dangers such a course presented. What heading he ordered was a mystery, for Dominus Victor never emerged from the Immaterium, the panic of those within a delicacy for thirsting Slaanesh. Thus another quarter million fell to the Black Fleet's guns -- a tenth of whom had perished through naught save misguided compassion.The red orb of Cadia was barely a pinprick of light against the void. Scarce a solar day had passed, and it was already succumbing to the Eye of Terror's baleful influence. It would make a fine Daemon World, Abaddon decided, if the tectonic forces he'd set loose did not see it destroyed first. It mattered little either way. After ten millennia of preparation, the Crimson Path was now ready for him to tread. The only question was whether it would bring him to Terra before it split the galaxy asunder. Again, it mattered little either way.He turned from the viewport as the strategium's doors rumbled open. Zaraphiston advanced across the rusted deck, the clawed foot of his Warp-stave clicking against the decaying mesh. "My Lord Abaddon, why do we not pursue?"Abaddon frowned, leaning forward on the obsidian table that stood between them. A bold question -- too bold for obsequious Zaraphiston. "The Loyalists are beaten. Let the curs of the ﬂeet snap at their heels. They are worth no more than that."The Chaos Sorcerer crossed to the viewport, his eyes settling upon the red orb of Cadia, transfixed upon the Crimson Path. "But one vessel carries something precious."Abaddon sneered. "There is nothing of any value aboard Phalanx."Zaraphiston's third eye blinked. His lips curled into a knowing smile. "I do not speak of Phalanx. The Ark Mechanicus. The relic that lies within its stasis hold."Unease prickled at Abaddon's thoughts. "What have you seen? What have the auguries told you?"Zaraphiston spoke a name. One Abaddon had put from his thoughts long ago. It seemed impossible, but such words had as much currency now as they had when Horus first set foot on Davin.Lost to sudden rage, the Despoiler brought his fist down on the table, shattering it into two. Zaraphiston stepped back, his smile fading.In an effort to avoid further losses, Garadon slowed Phalanx's pace so as not to place unnecessary strain on vessels already overburdened. The least space-worthy vessels were brought aboard Phalanx's foredeck hangars, their hatches sealed tight to prevent the curious or treacherous entering the battle-fortress proper. Having almost lost Phalanx to invasion solar weeks earlier, Garadon refused to take any chances with it now -- especially as the fury of its guns was the only thing keeping Abaddon's capital ships at a respectful distance.Still the losses mounted -- fatigue now as deadly a foe as the corsairs of Abaddon's fleet. Sleep was but a memory, banished by the chems consumed with rations during the long hours at battle-quarters. Two solar days after Dominus Victor's disappearance, mistakes by a weary gunnery crew aboard the Toxra Clavius saw the Destroyer's superstructure blown apart, setting the voidship adrift. Within solar hours of that disaster, a Primaris Psyker aboard Hades XII succumbed to the whispers in his waking dreams. The emergent Keeper of Secrets rampaged across three decks before the Whiteshields of the Cadian 79th Regiment -- by now as veteran in thought and deed as any of their comrades -- brought it down with unrelenting las-fire. Even after the daemon was purged, Garadon ordered Hades XII quarantined from the rest of the fleet. That status remained until Cawl's Ark Mechanicus, acting under Katarinya Greyfax's orders, blasted the Destroyer to twisted scrap to prevent any possibility of the heresy within infecting others.One hundred and twelve solar hours into the retreat, at the very moment that the Daemon World once known as Cadia finally succumbed to its fiery death-throes, the evacuation fleet approached the outer orbit of Klaisus, Kasr Holn's icy moon. Phalanx's Navigators at last pronounced the tides of the Warp clear enough to attempt travel. Of the twenty-nine voidships that had left Cadia, sixteen remained, bearing just over two and a half million souls between them.It was in that hour that the capital ships of the Black Fleet lost their apparent fear of Phalanx's guns. They dropped out of Warp transit just inside weapons range -- ten of the Black Fleet's mightiest vessels, the Vengeful Spirit at their head. A mix of Grand Cruisers and Battleships, they drove hard for the evacuation fleet's Adeptus Mechanicus rearguard, eschewing the oblique advance favoured by captains seeking to minimise their losses. Abaddon had come, and hell rode upon his heels.Panicked comm-bursts crackled across Phalanx's strategium, cut off one by one as the vessels of the evacuee fleet slipped into the relative safety of the Warp. Cruisers, heavy transports, freighters, mining scows -- all departed the Cadian System for the last time, grateful to have escaped Cadia's doom, but fearful of the future that lay ahead. Garadon had time for a single heartfelt curse before Phalanx followed, its countdown too far advanced for safe interruption. With the yawning and creaking of strained metal, the mighty battle-fortress let slip the anchors of realspace and plunged into the Immaterium. Cawl's fleet, their departure deliberately staggered to guard against any vessel being left stranded, was alone.The first shells burst amongst Cawl's formation. Fired at such extreme range, accuracy was impossible. Thus, it was only the most damnable ill-fortune that saw one shell explode against the Ark Mechanicus' aft shields. The detonation knocked two of the vessel's Plasma Drives out of alignment -- far worse, it crippled the Iron Revenant's Gellar Fields. For Cawl, and all aboard his ship, there could be no escape into the Warp.Consumed with fear at the prospect of losing his sacred cargo, Cawl brought the Iron Revenant about to an evasion heading. As their flagship sought to make its escape, the remainder of the Adeptus Mechanicus fleet swung around into blockade formation, their captains accepting without question the sacrifice required of them. The last surviving interceptors boiled from their hangers. The first salvoes roared silently away into the void, raking the oncoming Cruisers. Of all Cawl's fleet, only the Ark Mechanicus could match one of Abaddon's vessels broadside to broadside -- and even then the Iron Revenant's weaponry was but a pale shadow of the Vengeful Spirit's -- but the directness of the Chaos Warfleet's approach offered initial fire superiority.Salvo after salvo pounded the Traitor vessels, overloading shields and buckling armour. Servitor crews laboured with mechanical efficiency, loading and firing without trace of the fatigue that plagued unaugmented crews. Explosions flared in the ever-closing gap between the two fleets as the outnumbered interceptors clashed with Heldrakes and Hell Talons. Prow Lances flared, and liquefied adamantium ran like tears across the armoured flanks of the Adeptus Mechanicus warships. The Sanctus Malefic -- prow reduced to a torn and pock-marked ruin by torpedo salvoes, and its strategium crew dead -- peeled away on the whim of jammed rudders. But even had twice the vessels barred Abaddon's path, there would have been no halting that advance.The captain of Strokkor's Fist -- his Auspex arrays blinded by shells -- lost his taste for a headlong assault, and gave orders for his Grand Cruiser to instead trade extreme-range volleys. Apocalyptia and the Vengeful Spirit, battered but hale, reached Cawl's picket line of Cruisers. The first Chaos broadsides thundered. Caught between the two, Arcses Phobos melted like ice before the flame, its shields and armour boiling into space moments before a destabilised Plasma Reactor consumed the vessel from within. Xanthos and Everos Mondas endured the first raking salvoes, only to perish in the teeth of the Chaos Cruisers that came behind.Cerebos died snarling, trading broadsides with a Grand Cruiser twice its size before one last salvo broke its back. Stellaris Mons, its targeting systems obliterated by cannon fire, set collision course for its tormentor, the detonation of its Plasma Reactor shattering the Chaos Battleship's drive section, leaving it drifting amongst the debris. Alpha Scion, its interceptor screen shredded by the Black Fleet's fighters, was swarmed by assault boats. As its captain ordered a last valiant stand, Black Legion boarding parties ripped through the Cruiser's breaching bulkheads, and slaughtered the bridge crew. One by one, the ships of the Adeptus Mechanicus fleet went dark, or detonated in a flare of plasma.The sacrifices were not in vain. Every moment bought was a moment in which the Iron Revenant's damaged Gellar Fields could be repaired. But the Ark Mechanicus quickly lost ground before the Vengeful Spirit, which alone of the Traitor fleet had ignored the blockade and come full-burn after its fleeing prize. Now, Abaddon secured the Battleship's prow guns from firing, not wanting their ferocious recall to slow the pace of pursuit. Little by little, the Battleship closed with its prey.Recognising the inevitability that the Vengeful Spirit would soon overtake his injured Ark, Cawl pushed the systems beyond maximum tolerance. Super-heated steam roared from cracked coolant pipes. Klaxons sounded across the drive decks and pressure manifolds exceeded safety thresholds. It made little difference. Whatever additional acceleration the Archmagos coaxed from the Iron Revenant's damaged engines, it was never enough -- the Vengeful Spirit was closing too fast. In a matter of solar minutes the Battleship would draw level, and the broadsides would begin. Again and again, Cawl processed the probabilities of survival. Each time, the calculations returned vanishing and distant odds.Curiosity had led Cawl to Cadia. Pride had held him there. Now the Iron Revenant would be lost, and its precious cargo alongside. He had failed."Increase drive threshold seventeen percent." The strategium shuddered as the Iron Revenant's crew enacted Cawl's orders.Greyfax needed no telepathy to know that Cawl understood the futility of his command. The Iron Revenant was doomed. But she would never have known of his secret had she not peered into his mind. An obligation, a sense of duty not yet fulflled, drove the Archmagos -- an imperative so closely guarded she could only see its shape, not its detail."We cannot outrun this fate," intoned Celestine.Marshal Amalrich stirred, his low growl carrying a warning. "Would you have us offer our necks to the Despoiler without a fight?"The false saint turned from the viewport. "I beheld this in a dream. A river of blood amongst the stars. The harder we struggle, the more certain our fate. We must find another way."Greyfax felt the old anger rise at those words. "There is no salvation to be found in your heresy. If ..."She fell silent at Cawl's impatient gesture. "Necessity considers all answers, however improbable their provenance.""She is a Heretic!" Greyfax interjected.Greyfax fell silent. She reminded herself that Cawl's artificial span far predated the Inquisition from which her authority sprang. She couldn't take his obedience for granted."A bold accusation," hissed Cawl, "for one whose blood seethes with Necron artifice. Do not deny it. I perceive the nanomachines writhing beneath your skin."At once, Greyfax felt the mood in the strategium shift. Amalrich's expression darkened with fresh suspicion, reminding her of the Black Templars' unpredictable zeal. "I remain uncorrupted."Cawl observed her thoughtfully. "So you say. I can even free you from their grasp. But for that, we must first survive." He shifted his attention to Celestine. "What else did your vision show? What must we do?"The saint indicated Klaisus on the viewscreen. "We will find salvation within the ice. And then our crusade will begin anew."Amalrich nodded. "Your crusade, lady. But we will follow while our strength remains."Disgusted, Greyfax turned away. The Celestinian Crusade? The very thought of it made her skin crawl.So the Iron Revenant set course for Klaisus, the ice moon, under Celestine's direction. Stressed Plasma Drives brought the Ark Mechanicus around on a new bearing, the motion affording the Iron Revenant one furious, unanswered broadside at the pursuing Vengeful Spirit. The Black Fleet Battleship, taken unawares by the sudden change of course, had no opportunity to evade the swarm of torpedoes that sped like rippy-fish towards its prow. Shields collapsed, armour crumpled. The prow cannons were blasted free of their mountings, and the colossal, eight-pointed star that served as the Vengeful Spirit's figurehead was reduced to mangled scrap. But that Battleship had survived the Siege of the Emperor's Palace -- it had borne wounds far greater than any the Iron Revenant could inflict. It would not go so quietly.Whatever salvation awaited the Iron Revenant on Klaisus, Celestine's guidance now put the ship within range of the Vengeful Spirit's main guns. Abandoning the head-on course, Abaddon closed obliquely, his starboard batteries blazing as they gnawed at the Ark Mechanicus' hull. Unable to outpace the Battleship, the Iron Revenant did the only thing it could: it endured, meeting the Vengeful Spirit's fury with its own.The two warships pounded at one another for over a solar hour, the pale disc of Klaisus growing ever larger. The Iron Revenant's Macrocannons crashed back on their bearings, unseated by enemy fire. Torpedo tubes spat their last. Hundreds perished in every broadside, their bodies thickening the Ark Mechanicus' causeways, or expelled by violent decompression to bob along the mangled outer hull.Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, Traitors flooded to their assault claws along passageways crushed by the Iron Revenant's broadsides. The Despoiler meant to claim his prize for himself, or else see it burn to nothing in Klaisus' thin atmosphere. As the Battleship shuddered with one final broadside, silencing the Iron Revenant's last interceptor batteries, the Dreadclaws screamed across the void.As the garbled reports of boarding parties reached the Iron Revenant's strategium, Cawl knew the ship was lost. But it had served its purpose. The duelling vessels were now deep in Klaisus' orbit, and the relative shelter of the moon's swirling blizzards was but solar minutes away. Ceding command of the dying Ark to the crew, Cawl headed deeper into the ship, and began the process of unsealing the stasis vault.As the Adepta Sororitas made for the undamaged portside hangars, Marshal Amalrich declared his Battle-Brothers would ensure the Iron Revenant died fighting. Greyfax argued against this course. To her mind, Cawl was already half-under Celestine's spell, and the Inquisitor wanted allies of her own close to hand. Still, Amalrich was resistant -- the Marshal's pride chafed from the long retreat, and only the presentation of the Inquisitorial Seal bent him to Greyfax's will.So it was that a flight of transports spiralled planetwards, bearing their weary cargo. They used the dying Iron Revenant as cover against the Vengeful Spirit, and the last of the doomed Ark's fightercraft as escort. As Iron Revenant at last began to break apart, and the first Heldrakes screamed in pursuit, the fleeing convoy vanished into the howling snow-storms.