Although they witnessed many deaths along the way, the two teams finally reunited without any danger.
As for why only so few people were sent, on the one hand, many soldiers had no experience fighting gene stealers, which would only increase casualties.
On the other hand, the internal structure of the hull is small, and the number of people often does not have much advantage. On the contrary, there are many places that are conducive to ambush. It must have at least Terminator-level protection to be able to fight against the ambush of gene stealers.
Throughout the history of the Empire, most war groups have adopted the tactics of elite Terminator squads jumping gangs to deal with the genestealers in the hulk.
Of course, there are successes and failures.
But in general, deploying a Terminator squad is the best tactical plan without directly destroying the hulk.
However, it was not just another team that joined Soshyan, but also another Tech Priest who followed that team, Dietrian.
The two servitors worked diligently without thinking, and their actions were completely obeyed by the signal control board held in Dietrian's skinny hands.
Drills, saws, laser cutters, and plasma burners heat the air around the two bionic slaves as they carve their way through another twisted wall.
The techno-heretic sees it all through his emerald eyes - sculpted into cascading lenses and fixed into sockets in his reshaped face.
Dietrian shaped his body to exacting standards, and the diagrams he devised to construct his physique were closer to art than engineering by the standards of human intellect, having survived centuries with the Astartes. The effort required, one lacks the immortality their genetically forged physiology allows.
He knew that he disturbed humans, he was familiar with the effect of his appearance on ordinary people, and the equations in his mind that simulated the biological thinking patterns did not find the answer to correct this adverse effect, and he was not sure whether it was correct-but He remembered a little.
Fear has its uses when it is harvested by others.
This was a lesson he learned from his interactions with the Night Lords.
After confirming that there was no problem with the work of the two servitors, Dietrian tilted his head towards his principle supervisor, Loken.
Since the other person has a much higher status in the organization than he does, he should show a little respect.
"Priest Lorcan."
As soon as he spoke, the man was obviously frightened, but the servitors continued their work with their heads down.
"What's the matter?"
After realizing that his reaction was a bit embarrassing, Loken coughed twice and then nodded in response.
The corridor they occupied was low, claustrophobic and scary.
The Astartes were busy elsewhere, patrolling nearby chambers.
"Speaking of which, do you know why Chapter Commander Soshiyang took you with him in this dangerous operation? Everyone knows that you are not... keen on fighting."
Loken did not answer immediately. He had a feeling that the other party had some bad intentions in asking this question.
In his eyes, Dietrian was an ugly thing made of black metal, liquid-filled wires, and polished chrome. He was covered with a metal skeleton and its circulatory system, and was hidden in a blood-red suit. Under the thick old robe.
Loken had long believed that one would have to have a perverse sense of humor to reshape one's body into something resembling a bionic replica of some pre-Imperial insect.
But he never failed to share the joke.
At one time, the lenses of Dietrian's glasses were dark red, likely cut from gemstones.
This is by no means a permanent feature, and will often turn green, blue, or clear, revealing the metallic wires behind it and connecting to a brain that is still at least partially human.
"The Chapter Master told me that it was due to my outstanding skills and research on ancient technology."
Loken was proud to say what he believed to be true.
"I believe I can do an approximate analysis."
Dietrian laughed, the buzzing like a communicator slipping from the correct frequency, a hint of mockery in it.
Loken was emboldened by anger, and although the traitor was bound in the shackles of the Astral Knights Chapter, Loken had every right to teach him a lesson, a power given to him by Soshyan.
"Dietrian, you better be careful about what you say next."
"I mean no harm, it's just logical reasoning because you're human."
The skinless creature turned its skull-like smile away and stared at its servitor again.
"Human, no shell, no metal, your blood, heartbeat, sweat and breath - all these biological details will be detected by the predatory alien species on this hulk."
"Dietrian."
Feeling uneasy, Loken turned and looked back at the long corridor they walked through.
"You're talking nonsense again."
"I have studied the Tyranids in depth. Before this operation, I adjusted my stimulation array to be similar to that of a gene stealer. My auditory receptors can receive your breathing, just like the wind in nature, and your heartbeat is like The primitive drum of primitive culture.... If I feel it, Padre Loken, and I assure you I feel it, then you should know that many of the creatures who live in these ruins feel it too."
Loken snorted, trying not to guess that Soshyan's idea of using him as bait was really...
In the distance, bolters suddenly began to roar.
This movement made Loken tremble, and then he saw Soshyan returning here.
"Did an alien appear?"
Loken tried to sound less nervous.
"Some of them are dead now."
Due to the low temperature in the cabin, smoke occasionally came out of the cylindrical engine hood on Soshyan's back from the gap in the exhaust port.
Soshyan glanced at the servitors at work. They had already cut through the bulkhead.
"The passage is open?"
"Already opened."
Nodding, Soshyan chose to move in this way to avoid passages where he could easily be ambushed.
The genestealers on the ship are 100% aware of them. These aliens will ambush on the road they think they must pass, but Soshyan does not go this way.
He chose to break the bulkhead to move to the next area.
"Let's go to the mechanical room and see if we can restore some power. As long as the lights are turned on, the alien threat will be much smaller."
"learn."
At this time, the more violent roar of bolters came from the distance, and in addition to various tactical commands, the communicator was also mixed with the vague curses of the Astartes.
"These things are stunted and frail, almost decrepit looking."
"The alien race of Genestealers on the ship may have existed for hundreds of years. Without prey, they have no power. Although they are old and frail, they are still deadly."
“It’s not a struggle just yet.”
Finally, the chirp of the bolters died away.
The Terminators once again returned to their starting point.
They then passed through the passage opened by the servitor and entered a large room with towering generators and a wall-mounted plasma chamber - a mixture of liquid and gas tumbling deep in the glass chamber, emitting a faint orange light.
