After reaching high orbit, Spark immediately went into action.
The strike cruiser shook with barely contained force, the air thick with the static from its void shields and the throb of its packed lance cannons.
Lothar replaced Soshyan in charge of the command throne on the bridge, surrounded by a holographic screen and data readings.
The explosion-proof wall of the observation port has been lowered, and the space behind now shows the monitoring screen and observation monitor occupying the center of the Dark Bridge.
Lothar looked at the crew at work.
Generally speaking, Space Marines rarely pay attention to their mortal servants, and even less really notice their activities. This is not out of arrogance, but because of the huge physical and psychological gap that makes it difficult for supermen to pay attention. to the thin humans scurrying back and forth around them. Those who control the bridge are the most privileged of the thousands of servants who serve the warship, and their experience and expertise provide them with better rations and cabins.
Even so, they are useless and fragile creatures, their gray-white robes hanging loosely from their thin bodies, making them look gaunt.
In a vain attempt to imitate their masters, all had their heads shaved, and some added tattoos of sky eagles on their faces and arms.
Lothar watched as they worked in the communications posts and auspicious structures, monitoring engine output and preparing coordinated fires.
Everything is in silence.
At this height, no matter how hard he tried, Lothar found that he could not tell any of them apart, old or young, male or female.
They were the property of the order, and they were bound to serve on the ship, whether voluntarily or by force, for the rest of their lives.
This is the cruel and cold side of the human empire.
Choice is a luxury for most people.
"Chapter Master."
Lothar turned on the long-range communicator and communicated with Soshyan, who had arrived at the torpedo launch bay.
"We are catching up to the transport ship. The ID scan and keel markings confirm that it is undoubtedly the New Pharos. What are your orders?"
"Did you signal to her?"
"Yes, but she didn't respond. The close-range auspicious detection only detected very few signs of life. About twenty minutes ago, a landing ship was thrown out by her. The target was the orbital station. I think your guess has been confirmed. ”
"It seems that those traitors have already had their fun. The place above is nothing more than a morgue now."
"Indeed, but they might be able to provide us with information before landing, such as the identities of the traitors."
Lothar looked at the surveillance screen.
Even without zooming in, New Pharos can be clearly identified, its spinning green and white sphere contrasting with its mottled, unflattering form.
What happened to her crew? What now occupied her deck and space in the darkness?
"Chapter Commander, we still have twenty seconds before we can enter the launch range."
"You control it."
After waiting quietly for twenty seconds, he felt a shock when the attack torpedo surrounding Soshyan was launched.
Behind him, Team 1 stood motionless, fully armored and armed, automatic stabilizers and magnetic locks keeping them steady as the torpedoes fired toward the side of the New Pharos.
The Starfire had reached a very close distance from the opponent, close enough to ensure that no matter what defense system it had, it could not lock them when the Astral Knight's jumping torpedoes ripped open the narrow void between the two.
Before the proximity alarm sounded and the inside of the narrow metal cabin was filled with fierce red light, less than fifteen seconds had passed on the time display on Soshyan's face mask.
"Get ready to enter the cabin!"
Soshyan ordered, setting the stabilizer to maximum power.
Just when the armor was locked, he felt the thrust of the brake rocket suppress a rapid collision. At the moment of the impact, he grunted.
Power armor absorbs strong changes in gravity, a force that is enough to tear a mortal into pieces.
The torpedo seemed to pause for a moment, and then fresh shocks shot through the deck beneath Soshyan's feet as the heat from its head burned through the New Pharos's outer hull.
Soshyan took off the power sword from his waist.
He could feel the desire of the first team behind him to fight. They had waited too long.
But Soshyan found himself praying that there were not too many traitors left alive on the ship, nothing to complicate the killing. Not only could the current Astral Knights not accept defeat, they could not even accept larger losses.
Then Soshyan pushed his worries aside and concentrated.
He is no longer an ordinary warrior.
Soon, the broken metal plate was exploded by the landing torpedo with a dull explosion, and then the harsh sound of automatic explosions came.
The flashing light inside the torpedo changed from red to green. Soshyan was moving before the ramp was lowered. The roar of the power sword's disintegration stance corresponded to the deathly silence, while outside was the screaming darkness.
The next second, Soshyan's automatic senses captured deformed, unnatural shapes, torn apart by the torpedo penetration explosion, and scattered fragments throughout the corridor, making the scene even more distorted.
His sensors detected the unmistakable, repulsive stench of the Warp.
This is a group of highly tainted followers of Chaos, possibly a renegade crew from a previous ship.
Their pale bodies were covered with blasphemous symbols, their open mouths were densely packed with fangs, and they rushed towards these angels of death armed with various primitive weapons.
"Destroy them."
Behind Soshyan, the First Squad swarmed forward and quickly dispatched the first Chaos Cultists that sprang towards them from the darkness, the Space Marines not even using bolters but tearing them apart with chainsaws and fists. of minced flesh and black pus and blood.
Soshiyan trampled on their twisted corpses, and the traitors bared their fangs with hatred.
The deformed fear will destroy the sanity of most mortals. The blood-sucking fangs and newly grown appendages twist and try to catch the silver-gray armor.
But they are still as fragile as paper to the Space Marines.
Soshyan easily cut them open with his sword, causing pieces of black filth to spatter on his armor.
Farzad rushed down the corridor, the anger of his two battle axes filling the enclosed space, and the screaming fragments mixed with blood raindrops towards him, making him look dark red.
The second team quickly emerged from the landing bay, and they protected the flanks of the first team, the deflagration guns buzzing with energy overload as they vaporized the Chaos cultists further down the corridor into exploding flames and ash.
After the last Chaos follower died wailing under Soshyan's fist, he moved forward and saw an open passage hatch.
He sidled through it, looking for new enemies.
Automated sensors revealed to him the slaughterhouse he had stepped into. What had once been the ship's chapel was flooded with blood and hanging body parts. The crazy slaughterhouse was filled with squirming hunched, cloaked creatures, cultists worshiping Sosh. He flinched away at Yang's appearance.
Without hesitation, Soshyan swung his sword forward and tore apart their twisted limbs.
In order to escape from him, the cultists tried their best to catch and beat each other, but it was of no use in front of the silver-armored giant.
He soon had these people join the slaughterhouse they once created.
"No other crew members were found."
When Farzad came to report, Soshyan stood there breathing heavily, internal organs dripping from his ancient armor.
He struggled to control himself, the urge to continue killing out of rage.
At the same time, he received a second battle report on his visor, from the second tactical team that sneaked into the engine room of the ship.
"There are no survivors."
Ustad described everything he saw.
"There is no sign of the traitor. The engine room is currently under control."
However, Soshyan's attention was attracted by a huge symbol on the church wall. His intuition told him that this symbol was closely related to the identity of the traitor, so he intercepted it and sent it to Lothar on the bridge.
"Losa, did you receive the picture I saw?"
"Copy that, Chapter Master."
"What's this."
On the bridge of the Starfire, Lothar stood on the command platform, staring at the picture sent by Soshyan in his visor.
"Chapter Commander, it seems that all your guesses are correct. We have indeed encountered a traitor."
On the wall stained red by dripping blood, a brass symbol flashed with evil light.
"This is the symbol of the Chaos God Khorne. We encountered a Khorne warband."
