They had made a significant mistake, Adama thought. It was not catastrophic, but one that still required thorough review after this.

They would have to learn how to better pull their punches after this. The enemy had been far less effective than they had expected.

Firepower from the fleet of a supposedly galactic empire was barely denting the shields, despite some of the more exotic nature of the weapons thrown at them. The Galacticas weathered unidentified disintegration beams and localized gravity wells with far more ease than they had prepared for, the amalgamation of the Nexus’ natural and metanatural advances absorbing or turning away the worst of the effects. Shield maintenance currently kept up with the persistent storm of barrage, so the secondary and tertiary generators remained idle.

Several intrusive invasive codes tried worming their way into Adama and his three AI siblings. The writhing, hyper-adaptive, multi-layered encryption was impressive, but as the Mechanicum’s digital tech were mostly grounded in natural laws with only a touch of mostly dormant Type-H metaphysics, the malware and virus payloads barely got through the initial layers of digital defenses.

The Nexus’ standard ECM pinned down the wireless tendrils and infected them with their own, more robust viruses. Corruptive memetic loops forged from four different metanatural dimensions latched onto the attacking codes and pulled them apart. Like a ball of lava rolling through a tangled underbrush, the electronic infection worked its way back to the source of the attack, blasting through logic bombs, encryption wells and infohazard without consequence or care. The machine cultists involved in the cyber attack and their work stations were fully compromised, giving the AIs a dangerous measure of control.

Which was why one of the large, ‘Ark Mechanicus’ class ships was now floating idly in space with a dust trail of the dead and dying as the depressurization it was going through forcefully vomited its atmosphere out its many bays and vents. After shutting down its ghoul of an AI, full command of the ship was easy enough to manage, even with the more primitive analog controls. There were enough mindless cyborgs and subverted cultists left to run the ship, as inefficient as they were.

Adama’s digital sentience felt the stirrings of pride at such a well executed capture. Maybe he’d put in a request to have the massive chunk of metal be kept as a trophy once the researchers were done with it.

“Targets locked. Firing sequence calculated. Commencing attack run… Now.”

He coordinated another volley of torpedoes with Caprica into another spire-topped battleship. Volleys of white lasers and plasma bolts dropped the shields and gouged out holes in the hull just in time to expose the critical areas to the swarm of warheads. A string of emptiness bloomed, and clean spherical voids were created in the battleship as the targeted modules were violently teleported to Earth’s upper exosphere for collection later.

Hopefully the growing number of salvage wouldn’t affect the sky too much. Adama and some of his siblings liked watching the day-night cycle through a variety of sensor arrays on their breaks.

“Confirming, all targeted sections have been removed,” Caprica reported as her batteries powered up. “Clearing the remains.” Another burst of conventional weapons tore apart the eviscerated vessel.

The smaller ships were swatted without a thought, they had little to offer as research material as scans had already indicated that the more desirable exotic tech were housed in the larger ships. Adama’s flat prow bulldozed through a destroyer at full speed, his shield flaring prettily as the lesser craft broke apart in a series of explosions.

Point defense white lasers shot out to pick out stray ordnance, while a small Sentinel swarm was sent out to drag in the debris and unlucky humans that still lived. The former would be fed into the crushers to feed the fabricators, while the latter would be teleported to Blacksite Tleilax. They didn’t really need any more mundane prisoners, but Adama was sure his elder siblings would appreciate more test subjects for their many research projects.

Elsewhere, Thrace’s shields were fully ablaze as her Galactica hounded after a fleeing battleship, ignoring the desperate fire from its cruiser and frigate escorts. Her bow weapons fired once she got within close range, allowing for an effective barrage that tore out the engines and gutted its core. With the hunt over, her broadside batteries lit up, and the smaller ships around her died.

Thanks to her recklessness, Thrace had the lowest shield integrity at that point among the four of them, an impressive 89.22%.

While the damage the AI ships inflicted was significant, the Imperium still had plenty of ships left in their fleet, and they were quickly reorganizing. More capital ships were throwing shells and beams and bolts from a greater, safer distance, while destroyers and frigates did their best as screens.

Adama didn’t mind allowing the Imperium their space. They’d achieved their objectives already after all. Every Mechanicum target had been neutralized, and the Imperial formation was severely rattled.

Now all that was needed was for his brother and sisters to take care of the enemy’s vanguard, and then Sev would have his visit to the big golden ship.

*****

It was interesting, to be so outnumbered and yet so severely undergunned. Their simulations had not taken that into account. Neither did the training factor in the potential for a lesser degree of defeating the enemy, other than rendering them into space dust.

At least there were plenty enough enemy vessels to practice on.

As the second oldest, Tigh coordinated the defense line against the invaders. The gestalt non-sentience of the destroyers were shared between them to be used as appropriate. Optimally, each Galactica would have command over its own swarm of escort ships, but these trespassers hadn’t allowed for such basic necessities.

“Primary: Contain the enemy from reaching Tupile’s zone of engagement,” the AI repeated to his brothers and sisters. “Secondaries: Disable the ships tagged as Beta. Tertiaries: Have targets of Secondary-Beta be gathered in close formation to allow for optimal salvaging after incapacitation.”

“Tactical objectives received,” Roslin, Baltar, Valerie and Tyrol replied after a few milliseconds.

“Begin operations.”

They’d do their best to minimize damage to these Legionnes ships. Eva had detailed how familiar Sev was with them, and that he might have a fondness for them. Considering how they hadn’t been chucked into Blacksite Tleilax after that second meeting, Tigh could believe it.

But Sev hadn’t mentioned anything about their continued existence in his strategic outline, which meant that their capture would be a bonus to potentially bolster the young AIs in the eyes of their creator.

Taking a book out of the invaders, spreads of Electro-Metanatural Disruption torpedoes were launched, far beyond the recorded range of the Imperial ships. Then, fighter-sized Disco torpedoes followed after, the minimal automated guidance ensuring that they remained far behind the EMD volley. The five Galactica battlecruisers and their escorts followed behind at a sedate pace, spreading out to cover their designated sectors.

As this would be their first real engagement, Tigh and his siblings had their sensors recording live for future review. Which meant that they all saw the moment the EMD warheads detonated, creating a prismatic curtain of non-color drawn from four metaphysical dimensions. Sensors picked up the metanatural shockwave as expected, though the Nexus ships were fully immune to the electronic infection that came with it.

It seemed that the Imperial ships were not, however, as readings showed a huge swathe of the frontmost vanguard being victims to power fluctuations and possible internal detonations. Most of the ships still had their shields on, albeit in a much weaker and unstable state. The engines on a few sputtered or sent them drifting off course.

The Imperium vanguard slowed, but did not stop, but that wasn’t the point.

If their engines and shields were susceptible to the EMD, so would their sensors.

The Disco torpedoes sped up, the robotic intelligence recognizing the opportunity that had presented itself. With opposing tracking and point defense ineffective at best, each guided projectile wove a path into the most optimal positions before they went off. The white laser emitters all over each torpedo flashed out in rapid pulses, turning each into a brilliant light show that lasted a whole of two seconds before the warheads detonated harmlessly in the void.

Except for one, which had punctured a frigate before it went off, the white laser beams shredding the vessel before the ensuing detonation tore it apart.

The beams of light had done its job of further disabling the enemy shields and even causing some significant hull damage on the Imperials. In the simulations, the next stage would have the Galacticas rush to take out priority targets before the enemy recovered in the next six seconds.

In real space, it seemed that the technology of the Imperium would take a significantly longer time for that. The electronic disease still plagued their ships, severely crippling their effectiveness. This Imperium of Man seemed to really be blind to the metaphysical sciences as Eva had predicted.

Which was a wonder considering how they wielded Type-H ‘Immaterium’ energies. Tigh found it reckless and utterly suicidal, like trying to use a rad gun without the proper safeties and shieldings.

“Enemy advance blunted,” the AI sent to the others, “Commencing Secondary-Beta. Maintain checks on the other objectives.”

They entered the fray like raptors swooping down on helpless prey. Virtually unopposed, the Galacticas took precise shots that destroyed or teleported their enemies’ engines. Kobol Spools were utilized to teleport the battlecruisers into the midst of dense formations to hasten the task.

As they neared the active core of the fleet, the task of incapacitation was left to the destroyers. Tigh signaled to Adama, and his oldest brother replied in kind. Adama and the other three AIs relinked to the main tactical channel, and the nine capital ships began to converge on the rest of the Imperial fleet, the remaining trespassers that held little value to Sev or the Nexus other than the psychic monstrosity that was the so-called Emperor of Mankind.

“Updating sensor readings. Marking out targets for capture.” Agathon updated the fleet-wide tacticals, and Tigh was glad to see very little marked ships.

“Do we pursue if they somehow flee?” Baltar queried for clarification, to which a summary vote answered with a unanimous ‘Yes’.

“They’ve had plenty of chances already. Other than the last Secondary-Beta target, no minimum restraint is required.”

Ignoring the ineffective enemy fire, the nine Galacticas primed their weapons and closed in.

*****

Angron strode towards the bridge as the ship around him shuddered. Thankfully there was no follow up to the rumbling explosion earlier. The lights flickered maddeningly, while life support coughed through the vents. The ship-wide vox hissed and shrieked randomly, and cogitator stations sparked and smoked as their logic engines ran a million tasks, and then none at all, and then a million more. Everything from dataslates to servitors to the entire ship itself was in a state of electronic convulsion, and the primarch had to tear apart the doors in his way that were either jammed or constantly opening and closing.

The scene on the bridge was no less chaotic. The servitors and crew stations were either smoldering wrecks or flickering constantly. The bridge view ports were partially blocked by blast doors that were juddering halfway down. The dreadnought chassis of Legion Master Lhorke was slumped awkwardly against the command throne, the walker frame convulsing slightly.

As Angron took in the view, Kharn saw his primarch’s arrival and stood at attention, and like the other legionnaires he had encountered on the way, his power armor half discarded. And like the others before, blood trailed from his nose and eyes. The other Marines in the bridge were mostly in similar states, Captain Delvarus kicking away his boots with a snarl before snapping to a salute. A quick glance found that the backpacks on the discarded armors were either trailing smoke or utterly dead, which meant that their power armor were nothing but dead weight.

“Report,” the primarch uttered, slipping naturally into the role of commander. As reluctant as he was to lead, his legion, his sons needed him now.

There were no signs of even a hint of protest coming from the gathered captains. It was the mortal Lottara Sarin, captain of this very ship, that answered him. “Whatever they hit us with, the Conqueror’s effectively dead in space. Any void shields we had left are down and out of commission, and our weapon batteries and wings are just as useless.” She nodded over to sparking mounds of metal and red cloth. “Also got to the tech-priests. Had to put them down before they caused more collateral damage.”

Kharn stepped in without missing a beat. Angron noticed how his sons seemed sharper, less enraged than before. Had the phenomena also affected their Butcher’s Nails implants? “Since ship-wide communications is down, let alone fleet-wide, we’ve resorted to using the librarians to reorganize the crew.”

At the mention, the Lectio Primus, Vorias offered a tired nod to his primarch. His was the only one without blood on his face. “We’ve established contact with the librarians spread across our fleet, as well as those from the other legions, Sire. As far as we can tell, the Nexus weapon systems crippled the entire vanguard. Primarch Magn-”

The Head Librarian was interrupted as another explosion shook the bridge. Then a shadow loomed across the bridge viewports still open to the void. A Nexus destroyer came into view, roaring past the Conqueror. Out in space, Angron spied blooms of light in the distance, probably more explosions occurring all around them.

Vorias closed his eyes tightly for a moment, and then gave a heavy sigh as he looked at Angron. “They’ve taken out our engines, and it seems that they’ve been doing the same to the other ships across the Legions.”

Angron frowned. Once again the Nexus had claimed utter victory, and once more they preferred the option of capturing rather than simple massacre. The primarch did not know whether this time would be another act of mercy on their part.

He gave a pointed look at his captains, and they understood the unvoiced question.

“The Nails have stopped…working, Sire,” Vorias answered for them. “There’s been cases of debilitation, but it’s in a minority so far. However…” The librarian’s features became grave, as did those of the other legionnaires. “There is a risk of prolonged inactivity of the implants leading to fatal withdrawal. Though with the power fluctuations we’re experiencing, the Apothecaries are not able to fully confirm this.”

Angron took in the significance of the words, and then turned to Kharn. “Does it…hurt?”

“No more than a tickle, Sire,” his equerry replied curtly.

The primarch frowned, and then reached out to lay one hand on the captain. He immediately felt it - a tingling spike at the back of his neck, gnawing, writhing, but nothing more than a nuisance, especially to a Space Marine. Far from the throbbing pain of the Nails’ usual self. It’d be considered a relief, even.

He withdrew his hand, ignoring the stunned look Kharn gave him, and then focused his attention to his Chief Librarian. “Can you communicate with Magnus directly? I would like t-”

A sudden silence fell on not only the bridge, but the whole ship. All at once, the cogitators stations finally shut down, servitors similarly dropped into limp heaps, the vox speakers stopped shrieking and hissing, and the life support circulated in smooth silence. Even Lhorke suddenly regained control of his chassis and shot up to his feet.

There was no time to marvel at the change as a feminine, almost emotionless voice took over the vox speakers, hailing the Conqueror and other crippled Legion ships.

“To the Legiones Astartes, we will be boarding your ships. Stand down and do not get in our way. You will then be processed as prisoners of war with all the rights that come with it. Or stand against us, and your ship reactors will be overloaded.”

The speaker paused for a moment to let the threat sink in, before adding, “Sev seems to regard your subspecies positively, but your continued survival is only a secondary priority to the Nexus Unity. We will begin boarding in 300 of your Imperium standard seconds. Make your time.”

Silence followed for several long seconds after the speaker finished, after which Angron snapped back to Vorias. “I need to speak with Magnus. Now.”