Chapter 99 Lysander's Prayer
Compared to the happiness and deliciousness here (?), the Destiny Steel is about to launch a vigorous preparation for the war (?) campaign.
Let’s take a look at the other side of the infinite void.
Before traveling deep into the heart of the Calixis sector, the Sons of Dorn fleet anchored on an Imperial fortress world and replenished their expeditionary force with a reserve of psykers for the last time— — Mainly Astropaths.
Although the chief navigator they brought from Terra, Lord Karova and the chief of the astral choir, Lord Kelshasi, were not very satisfied with the quality of manpower that could be replenished here.
Since the Astropathic Choir's personnel losses exceeded 90% compared to the day of departure due to the recent bad subspace storm and shock wave environment, it has sometimes become normal and sometimes muttered some prophecies that no one can understand. Kael Sasi, who had been awake for many days, even expressed his dissatisfaction to his new team, the first company commander and others during his waking moments, "These astropaths with low power and rough technology! Are they legally registered?! How could you allow this kind of stuff to be sent to the noble Sons of Dorne ship to serve as a messenger of the sacred word? "
This forced Carlois to send additional armed servants of his own? The two of them went over and guarded the door and pipes of Kelsasi's private cabin, lest they wake up one day and find that the choirmaster had turned into a cold corpse.
Of course, the working environment is better than that of astropaths who often have to immerse themselves in a completely unfamiliar subspace, so Carlova, who can barely stay awake, will not directly say this to the new manpower. , but in private, he also expressed tactful dissatisfaction.
Danat Lysander could only express his helplessness in the plight of Master Astropath and Master Navigator.
Compared to some of his less fortunate battle-brothers, the First Captain was a man who had served as a symbol of the wonders of the Ecclesiarchy, and was always considered to be favored by the Emperor and the Primarch within the Chapter. The legendary hero who proved to be more confident in fighting against certain imperial institutions and personnel in a religious and mystical sense.
Even so, he now had to lead his brothers in long and fervent prayers in the ship's sacred chapel: the recent paradoxical atmosphere of the ship and the entire fleet had reached a tight limit that could not be ignored.
The Gothic spire of the chapel towers on the top of the hull of the Wrathful Storm. Its interior is a tall and empty dome with exquisite, slender and transparent windows on the sides - don’t ask why a ship that has gone through many battles has There will be this unreasonable and fragile ceremonial design on the top of the ship. In short, it is standard configuration on the ships of the Imperial Fist. If it is the Black Temple, the size and magnificence of the chapel can be doubled-the distant star. The light looked down at everyone from here, cold and scrutinizing, waiting for an opportunity to take away some lucky or unfortunate sacrifice among them forever.
"My brothers! Sons of Dorne!" Brother Priest shouted in a voice dry from shouting war cries and chanting prayers for a long time, "We are on an expedition! The expedition will never end! We will prove it with physical pain and exhaustion - brandishing our weapons forever to all aliens, heretics and traitors! We will praise the Emperor in never-ending battle!"
"Praise to the Emperor! Praise the Emperor! Praise the Emperor!" His battle-brothers rapped their weapons in response to his words, shouting loudly from their hoarse throats as they saw the First Captain walking up. Coming to a more feverish climax.
"My brothers! My brothers who are bound to me by the noble Dornish blood! And all the others!"
The voice of the First Company Commander is still loud and powerful after centuries of service and a thousand-year journey through subspace. He took another step forward, exposing his entire face to the starlight and the candlelight of the chapel: Danat Lysander wears the iconic yellow Terminator armor of the Imperial Fist. On the back of his head is an iron halo shaped like a skull and a laurel wreath. The inscription on it reads "AND THEY SHALL KNOWNOFEAR". ", a strip of short shaved gray hair extended along the top of his head to the back of his head. The rest of his hair was shaved off to expose his scalp, and neural cables and biological relay interfaces were plugged in. The look on his face was firm and had a pure sense of honor, and the service nails gleaming on his forehead, telling his history of loyal service to the Emperor, which made what he said next even more inspiring. The role of the human heart.
"Everyone! We have done the last full supply in this fortress world. I also know that there are some unnecessary rumors here recently that are quietly damaging our honor." His voice was low. , but it improved again and attracted everyone's attention.
“But what I want to say is that your firm belief should not be shaken by any rumors, just because the sacred mission entrusted to us from the beginning has not yet been completed. Before that, everything is hindering us from completing the mission. When you are worried, you might as well think about the purpose of our trip that I mentioned now. This is the first time in thousands of years that we have learned so clearly about what we are waiting for. News about the remains of the Holy Father! This is such a sacred task that requires us to stay united. We must clench our fists as much as possible before striking! Save them all! Pour upon the heads of our great enemies, the Iron Warriors! Keep your faith! I know this is a noble request, but this is what I ask of you at this moment! Glory to the Emperor and Dorn! Repent! For the saint on the throne and Dorne!”
“Praise the Emperor! Praise Dorne!” The crowd chanted in unison again, and the ceremonial curtains and honorary banners in the chapel were lifted by various disturbing air currents. The corners fluttered slightly, and the servo skulls were flying overhead with lit sacred candles on their heads. Chapter servants holding incense burners appeared from the shadows, spreading the smoke of incense to every Astartes who knelt down to pray devoutly. For monks, it purifies their bodies and minds and gives them blessings.
Lysander himself was also praying to obtain spiritual purification and strength from the Emperor and Rogal Dorn. Thirteen hundred years had passed since these prayers first flowed from the tip of his tongue. Like eating and drinking water - no, he can even integrate them into his every breath as naturally as using his own weapons.
He had a hunch that maybe this time he would usher in a highlight moment of his legendary service career - or it would be an end. Will the legend end? He did not know, but he was certain that every Son of Dorne would fight to the end.
Lysander's prayer ended and he stood up, turned around, and raised his signature weapon, the Fist of Dorne, high towards his warriors.
"Hold your weapons! Prepare to fight!"
In response, the warriors raised their chainswords at him. The new First Company Imperial Fists clanged their fists against their breastplates in salute to their ancient Captain.
The Wrathstorm's weapon arrays, shield generators, engine rooms, and ion reactors were all inspected again. The mechanical priests murmured binary prayers and anointed every gear and piston with holy oil. Officers on the bridge and other The locals yelled or issued orders, and the Chapter servants ran back and forth, everyone praying and grabbing whatever work they could get their hands on for the battle to come.
Gua.
A mediocre (?) transition chapter, mainly to highlight the completely different atmosphere and style of the two sides (transfer)
There is a second chapter, in the code
(End of this chapter)