Week Five
The White Maw, a Tyrant-class cruiser, drifted through the chaotic and turbulent warp like a lone fish diving into the deep abyss.
You opened your pitch-black eyes, revealing the sharp fangs within your mouth.
Slowly, you rose from the fluid-filled medical tank, still feeling the lingering pain of your severe wounds, which had yet to fully heal. You suspected that this was due to the way you had arrived.
This powerful Astartes body was not originally yours. It belonged to someone else—Padraic of the Space Sharks.
From Captain Shavon, you had gathered more information about the ongoing war.
Though the Home Fleet had suffered considerable losses, the Carcharodons had survived through sheer resilience.
The flagship of Ashen Claws, Malevolent Talon, had personally led their entire fleet in support of the Space Sharks.
In the process, you unexpectedly learned the true reason behind their aid—Chief Librarian Tī Kahurangi had secretly sent an encrypted astropathic message without the knowledge of the Ashen Claws.
The deal was simple: if the Ashen Claws provided fleet support, the Crimson Scar would return Hunger and Thirst.
Clearly, you had underestimated the obsession of Nehart, the Ashen Claws' Chapter Master, with those twin lightning claws.
However, when you questioned Captain Shavon about whether Chapter Master Tyberus would truly return the weapons, all you received was his silent, piercing gaze.
"The Chief Librarian has no authority to make such decisions… Padraic, if it were you, would you return them?" Shavon asked, his expression impassive.
You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head slightly.
You knew that the Crimson Scar would rather challenge Nehart to a duel to the death than simply hand over such prized weapons.
After all, in the unspoken traditions of the Carcharodons—what is taken belongs to the one who seized it.
Week Six
The White Maw once again emerged from the warp, its Gellar Field stabilizing.
However, in the next instant, deafening alarms blared across the ship.
You powered up your barely-repaired Terminator armor and rushed to the bridge.
There, you found Captain Shavon, already commanding the entire company in preparation for battle.
And then came the bad news.
The White Maw had not arrived at the correct coordinates as guided by the astropaths.
Instead, the warp's chaotic currents had thrown you dangerously close to a retreating Tyranid Hive Fleet.
Shipboard sensors quickly confirmed the worst—it was Kraken's remnants, the same Hive Fleet that the Space Sharks' Home Fleet had just driven from the Imperium's borders.
In the cold, empty void, massive bio-ships—living kraken-like behemoths—slowly opened their cavernous maws.
From within, countless Tyranid sirens and vanguard drones swarmed into the blackness of space, charging madly at the White Maw.
A relentless barrage of bio-plasma and corrosive acid spewed toward the ship's void shields, erupting into terrifying waves of multicolored energy.
More hangars aboard the bio-ships yawned open, unleashing wave after wave of fighter-drones and escort organisms, forming a living defensive perimeter around their vulnerable capital ships.
The White Maw immediately returned fire.
Weapon arrays along the flanks lit up with deadly brilliance.
Alternating salvos of plasma and laser weaponry tore into the incoming Tyranid forces, striking down sirens and vanguard drones attempting to board.
Yet, for a lone Tyrant-class cruiser, its firepower was but a drop in the ocean against an entire Hive Fleet.
Even though the enemy had recently suffered losses, the White Maw was already teetering on the brink of destruction.
Captain Shavon swiftly ordered the company to prepare for boarding actions.
You stood motionless, your gaze sweeping over your towering battle-brothers.
A resolute glint flashed in your black eyes.
"Captain! What is the most powerful weapon aboard this cruiser?" you demanded, your voice grim.
Shavon calmly slung a bolter onto his Terminator armor's belt and met your gaze.
"Padraic, don't hesitate. The fate of Third Company is decided here—win, and we live; lose, and we die. It's that simple." He grasped a chainsword, his dark eyes steady and unreadable.
"Captain, do you trust me?" You took a deep breath and blinked.
"You are my battle-brother. You are part of Third Company—part of the Chapter. What exactly are you planning?" Shavon's sharp instincts caught on to your intentions.
"One more time, Captain—does this ship have any weapon capable of truly threatening the Hive Fleet? If not, then we fight to the last drop of blood!" You stepped closer to him.
"The armory contains three relic-grade Cyclone torpedoes. The ship itself has an ancient Nova Cannon… but firing it will drain our void shields, meaning we can only fire once." Shavon locked eyes with you.
"Captain, I request permission to take one of the Cyclone torpedoes and execute a solo boarding maneuver. I will buy White Maw the time it needs to re-enter the warp!" Your decision was immediate and unwavering.
Shavon refused outright.
You were forced to invoke the Emperor's blessings and the Void Father's favor to prove your resolve.
"Captain, if the moment is right, I will return from the void… We will meet again!" You saluted in the manner of your Chapter.
Shavon was silent for a long time, then finally gave his approval.
Under his command, a white-haired Techmarine retrieved the three Cyclone torpedoes from the armory.
You programmed two of them with timed detonation settings, while the last was entrusted to Shavon for remote activation.
As the ship rocked violently under continued bombardment, its hull groaning under the assault, you rejected any offers from your battle-brothers to join you.
Your plan was to pilot a Thunderhawk gunship alone for the boarding assault.
However, as you reached the hangar, you found all thirteen remaining Thunderhawks powered up and ready.
A group of mortal auxilia pilots stood before you.
They had volunteered for what was undoubtedly a one-way mission.
"Milord, we've heard the tales—you once slew a Void Kraken single-handedly… To fight alongside you would be our greatest honor!"
Their bright, determined smiles left you speechless.
With a solemn expression, you turned to the gathered warriors of Third Company and saluted them in the manner of the Chapter.
Then, raising your armored fist, you returned a salute in the style of the Imperial Navy to the mortal pilots.
At that moment, at the prow of the White Maw, the ancient Nova Cannon finished charging—its deadly energy coiling within, ready to be unleashed.