03 - Savage Scars Read Free Page B

to you.”
    “Never mind that,” Sarik growled, his hunter’s instinct reasserting itself
over his battle-lust as he scanned the readout. “What’s your status?”
    “Alive,” the comms officer aboard Nova-zero-three replied wryly, causing
Sarik to snort in amusement. “But flight control is compromised and the
machine-spirits are grievously angered.”
    “Then get clear, zero-three,” Sarik ordered, “before the Emperor gets bored
of keeping you around.”
    “Acknowledged,” Nova-three replied. “Will form up on your trajectory.”
    “Negative, zero-three,” Sarik replied. “We’ll catch you up. Out.”
    “Sir?” inquired the helmsman, sensing a change in plans. “Your orders?”
    “Zero-nine by delta, offset three point five, helm,” Sarik ordered. A series
of unfixed readings scrolled across the lectern readout, indicating the
appearance of a potential new contact.
    “Screen the defence platforms?” Conversi Kuro said over his shoulder as he
hauled on the steering levers.
    “Aye,” Sarik replied. “Time?”
    “Five minutes,” the helmsman replied.
    “Nova leader?” Sarik said, opening a vox-channel to the squadron leader.
“What is your status?”
    “Augur readings compiled, Nomad ,” Nova leader replied. “Communing with
fleet now, but I think we have company.”
    “I see it, Nova leader,” said Sarik, as a new augur return flashed on the
lectern’s screen. The Nomad ’s cogitator banks set about analysing the
return, comparing it to vessels the crusade had faced in its previous battles
against the alien tau.
    “Medium displacement, brother-sergeant,” Conversi Loccum reported, his mind
impulse link feeding him the raw information before it even appeared on the
lectern screen. “Cruiser analogue, similar to those faced previously.”
    “Not something we want to face alone, then,” Sarik growled, the warlike side
of his spirit battling with the veteran warrior-leader side. “Nonetheless,” he
continued, “fleet needs those readings. Helm, bring us prow on with the enemy.
Fire control?”
    “Already there, brother-sergeant,” Qaja replied over the internal vox. “Full
yield lance?”
    Sarik grinned savagely, his honour scars twisting into a swirling pattern as
he gripped the lectern with both hands. “Aye, Qaja. And make it count.”
    Addressing the bridge-serf at the shields station, Sarik said, “Nord, forward
banks to maximum. This might hurt…”
    The veteran sergeant had barely completed his remark when a blue pulse filled
the forward vision port. Sarik braced himself, and a moment later, the tau’s
hyper-velocity projectile struck the hastily raised forward screen.
    The entire view from the portal exploded with seething white energies as the
enemy’s attack was dissipated against the Nomad’s forward shield. Sarik
squinted against the fierce illumination, but his pride refused to let him
shield his sight entirely. The frigate shook violently as the projectors
struggled to shunt sufficient power to counter the attack, warning klaxons
sounding as the bridge lights flickered.
    “Report!” Sarik shouted above the banshee wailing of the sirens.
    “Shields holding,” Nord yelled back. “But only just!”
    Sarik’s grip on the lectern redoubled as he imagined his hands strangling the
life from the captain of the alien vessel. If only he could engage his foe
face-to-face. Snarling, Sarik looked to the lectern screen, confirming that the
pathfinders’ squadron leader was finally coming about on a heading that would
take the vessel back towards the fleet. His gaze followed the icon’s projected
course towards the far edge of the screen, where he saw…
    “All stations!” Sarik bellowed. “I want every last ounce of power on the
shields.”
    The frigate’s main systems powered down one by one as the crew enacted
Sarik’s order, the siren dying away to silence as all available power was
diverted to the shield generators. Soon, only the shrill whine of