Chapter 64: Welcome Ceremony |
Stormbird, a vessel used during the Great Crusade for legion landings.
Actually, the Black Templars have them too, but the millennia of crusades have long since exhausted their stockpile. The remaining legends forged in the fires of war have already entered the Hall of Relics.
Now, even setting aside whether it's suitable for current Chapter combat doctrines, just figuring out how to produce a Stormbird-class landing craft has become a problem.
"......"
Metallic sacred hymns echoed through the cabin. This Stormbird, carrying the honor of humanity, was joyfully rumbling with its engine, telling of a journey just begun.
Orlando's knuckles tapped on the cold metal bulkhead, while the war boots of a Perdition Terminator scraped across the plasteel floor’s unfinished burrs, striking tiny sparks.
A simple, undecorated interior space. The polished metal walls reflected the bright lights.
No sacred oils, no skull reliefs—this iron body was as pure as the will of the Emperor himself.
The unmarked honor plates seemed to declare that this vehicle had just rolled off the line.
【Isotope decay rate: 0.0013%, Foundry date runes inactive, No production code...】
Fresh off the line.
"Compared to a Thunderhawk, this feels like the nave of a cathedral."
A certain Inquisitorial guard captain gave a low murmur of admiration, only to be silenced by the mechanical voice of the nearby Tech-Priest: "This is sacred machinery. Not for your idle remarks."
The guard captain quickly shut up.
Aglaea, however, ignored the small episode. From beneath her robe came the low hum of a servo-skull as her focused eyes documented every inch of this historically symbolic space.
Compared to the cramped Thunderhawk, the Stormbird’s cabin was far more spacious—so much so that even after the high-ranking members of the Joint Fleet boarded the same craft, they could still bring along their escorts.
As for safety...
Let’s just say the Stormbird might not be the best fit for the modern Imperium spread across the galaxy.
But there was a reason it could carry wave after wave of Astartes into unfamiliar, dangerous planets during the Great Crusade and hold those tactical positions until the legions were broken up.
Its swift speed allowed it to dodge large-scale weapon locks, and the dual-layer void shields gave everyone an unprecedented sense of safety, rendering even dense firepower gentle and harmless.
As these iron giants tore elegantly through the atmosphere—an elegance unbefitting their bulk—the clash of void shields with the ionosphere sparked violet-red arcs, and incoming heavy fire was swiftly absorbed into the Warp, leaving only dazzling streams of color across the observation windows.
Only when the gravity of Pierde fully grabbed hold of the 1,500-ton behemoth did all passengers feel their bones resisting the force of inertia—
Except for those superhumans who had fused gene-seed into their flesh.
The Astartes stared solemnly ahead, as if beholding history itself.
Four Ancient Warriors sat near the decompression hatch. Their postures varied, but all remained silent, ceramite armor dusted with star-born frost.
The Sisters bowed their heads like pilgrims, still as statues. Only the rose-beads at their chests swayed gently.
Calm.
Awaiting the sharpening of blades. Ready to draw them at the moment the warship descends, to confront the enemies of mankind.
"Imperial code received. Identity preliminarily verified as Imperial hereditary nobility."
Kaul, in charge of the information system, suddenly spoke, his mechanical voice crackling with electricity and breaking the silence.
"They’ve designated a docking port for us. Shall we proceed?"
"Proceed. Instruct them to fully open their airspace. We’ll choose our own landing site."
Romulus replied calmly, using the Stormbird’s visual systems to survey the planet’s surface.
The entire planet of Pierde had a single super-hive city at the equator. The southern hemisphere was completely covered by dense Mechanicus forge factories, while the northern hemisphere was engulfed in thick industrial smog, shaped into a toxic wasteland.
At the top hive, shrines of the Ecclesiarchy and temples of the Mechanicus formed a bridge between these two worlds.
From a terrain perspective, Romulus believed a safe landing at the top hive would be ideal. After all, intel from the Word Bearers indicated the planet was already a chaotic mess, even Chaos forces couldn’t fully control the situation.
If they had to launch a strike from the outskirts of the hive, the intensity would be beyond what this team could handle.
"Agreed. Data link established. Formation will follow preset flight path. Landing zone adjusted to top hive Mechanicus temple. I’ve connected to their internal system."
Kaul quickly operated the console, immediately overriding the site designated by the Imperial noble for the strike team. What he said next made everyone’s expressions turn grim.
"Additionally, traces of the Omnissiah’s sacred code show signs of Chaos corruption. All units, prepare for battle."
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"Those false angels, scorched by heretical beliefs, again."
After cutting the comms, a noblewoman of the Imperium couldn’t help but sigh in pain.
"Such a tragic report. A mere thousand xenos have already inflicted unprecedented losses on the holy subjects of the God-Emperor. I dare not imagine how much more bloodshed this new invasion will bring."
"Be optimistic, sister. The God-Emperor teaches us compassion."
A voice sounded, full of devout warmth and gentleness.
"Whether xenos or human, if they hold a heart of unity, we should embrace them and share this boundless starlit sky."
"My apologies—I misinterpreted the God-Emperor’s sacred will."
The noblewoman quickly stood and apologized to the preacher at her side.
It was a bald woman dressed in a finely woven purple robe.
"You will prepare a welcoming ceremony for them. Bring fruits and vegetables. If they return a smile, we shall coexist. If they return fire, we shall meet it with blades."
The woman said solemnly.
"Thank you for your guidance, Divine Messenger. Praise your mercy, Divine Messenger."
The noblewoman responded with near-fanatical devotion, as if receiving a divine revelation.
"There’s no need to thank or praise me."
The woman spread her arms. As her expression shifted, one could faintly see overlapping bone plates atop her smooth skull.
"Look around."
They stood within a bustling work zone.
"Unity."
People worked closely together. Every report was met with an optimal solution, swiftly and perfectly executed.
"Compassion."
Even the lowest caste from the underhive could participate in meetings and every decision. The nobles around her showed not the slightest trace of disdain.
Food was precisely distributed. People no longer had to suffer the cruel exploitation of heretic cultists.
No one had to starve anymore. No one had to struggle just to survive.
They had gathered here, brought together their strength—not for conquest, but to spread well-being to all. To rescue every fellow soul from the hands of evil.
This was an ideal of the highest order.