Chapter 103 Lysander Captures the Iron-Blooded Ship
Danat Lysander tightened his grip on his weapon, and the soles of his metal boots made a slight sound on the flat ground. They were in this very strange ship. Proceed with caution.
In fact, for him and his team of Titan Explosive Terminators, the application of the word caution in this scenario was almost equivalent to "remember not to connect the twin melt cannons head-on."
So now he is really cautious.
Fortunately, Tiaobang torpedo loyally brought them into the ship in the end - yes, although the demolition melt at the front of the torpedo did not really hit anything, they did get in, It's just that the torpedo hit something invisible after passing through a layer of shields, and then stopped after running out of inertia. They immediately untied themselves from the jumping torpedo and set foot on the road here. ground.
The residual heat in the torpedo's tail nozzle was not extinguished, and the Titan Explosion Terminator team followed closely behind. The muzzles of the bolters or other guns in everyone's hands were raised in all directions vigilantly.
It's too quiet and tidy here, and tasteless.
This is Lysander's first impression.
In the eyes of those who stayed outside the Destiny Steel, this unusually strange silver-white moon-class barge seemed to have nothing special except for being smooth and beautiful. The shell, which was still made of "ordinary alloy, bronze and brass", instantly "engulfed" the torpedo that the company commander and the others were riding on.
And when they discovered that they were trying to pour more and more artillery fire from the entire fleet directly onto the ship, it was clear that the void shield had reached the edge of crumbling, but its last thin layer When the shield was not overloaded, everyone knew that something was wrong.
But all they can do now is to tightly surround this strange ship that is still dragging through the galaxy at cruising speed, at least until they figure out where their first company commander and elite Terminator team are going. Lost.
On the bridge of the Wrathful Storm, the technical officers led by Captain Philip Vian were desperately and desperately sending communication calls to the gang-hopping team led by Lysander.
And Lysander and the others know nothing about the situation outside at the moment.
The most elite Terminator squads of the 1st Company are forming a loose formation across the huge hangar platform they have fallen into. This place would be a perfect location for an ambush, but everything is dark and dark. Quietly, the two battle brothers who were marching through the ascending passage on the left and right wing reported that they found nothing. This strange peace and quiet made the originally trivial uneasiness more obvious.
The main reason why they haven't made any big noise yet is that the doors and passages here are not as narrow as those on ordinary ships. They are made very wide and tall, as if they were originally designed to allow the Terminator or more. The tall being used it, and the alarm was not triggered, so the Terminators did not need to forcibly break out a road.
"What was that that our torpedo passed through just now?" a battle brother asked.
“It looks like it may be some kind of large-scale camouflage position. Even judging from the methods of those betrayers, our understanding at the moment has been modified.”
The first company commander replied calmly, while holding the Fist of Dorne in his hand and turning on its energy field switch. The sacred relic weapon began to glow, "From this moment on, everyone needs to be respectful to anyone and any words. Stay alert to the possibility of being contaminated by Chaos."
The surrounding battle brothers sent confirmation replies one after another.
"There are some extremely perverted, cruel and cunning villains among the Iron Warriors. The worst we can do now is to enter a ship without intelligence. Needless to say, there must be a trap here," Lysander said He also turned on his own sensors.
"But the basic structure of the moon-level construction generally does not change. Turn on the scanning device of your power armor, and set the scanning range to 800 - no, a thousand feet. Everyone constructs a three-dimensional map of the vicinity and The battle map is updated at any time. "
"The place where we just entered the hull should be not far from the turning channel leading to the engine room... What the hell is this? "
In their helmet eyepiece display interface, the extremely complex and densely packed bright lines of the three-dimensional structure of the scanned ship began to extend as the scan began to appear in the sensor scanning range with an eerie degree of complexity and grandeur. It appears that these lines are interconnected and endless, with no boundaries visible.
"How is this possible?! It has been turned on to maximum power! It stands to reason that it can already scan the smallest shell boundary of the Moon-class cruiser!" "Have you seen it."
"Yes, Captain Lysander."
"This must be some kind of cognitive filter. The Iron Warriors here are most likely related to the contamination of those Chaos enemies who control illusions and changes." Empire The Captain of the Fist showed a bloodthirsty and vengeful cold expression under his helmet that he didn't even know he had.
Only revenge.
Only.
“I have a hunch that there may be some of our old acquaintances here.”
Each Imperial Fist's modified ears heard some familiar sound approaching.
It was the slight collision of chains and power armor and the sound of ceramic boots stepping on the metal ground.
Right behind that wall!
Lysander roared angrily, raising the Fist of Dorn with its radiant force field high, ready to deal with anything coming - at this time, he caught something moving in the corner of his eye, and the Space Marine's peripheral vision was extremely Excellent, but he could not make out any outline of the thing that had just passed from the edge of his vision.
But his auspicious device still showed nothing, and the green interface shone calmly.
There are no light spots that represent enemies or very suspicious objects, and there are no light spots that represent low threats. There is only one of him alone——
Wait a minute!
When? !
His combat reflexes developed over hundreds of years of extraordinary service helped him, and the needle-like spikes that silently struck from a tricky blind corner created a glare on the side of the Fist of Dorn. The sparks and decomposition force field defused the offensive and exposed the enemy's position.
The being in the shadow took half a step towards him, letting the faint light fall on him, and the image of the auspicious instrument turned into a dazzling crimson.
The huge terrifying thing, the gleaming skulls on the armor that was closer to silver than the dull black steel gun color before, and the fresh yellow and black striped paint almost immediately reminded Lysander of the original meaning represented by these marks. , created for violence and fighting, not for boasting and display, just as the "people" inside are cold, cruel, hard and practical.
Lysander understood what he saw at the first glance. He would have a hard battle ahead. None of his brothers were by his side. His communication with the Wrathful Storm was still offline. Support may never be available. Not really, but what the Imperial Fists are best at is persisting loyally until the end.
Although he was wearing a helmet, Lysander managed to spit into the ground - a habit he had practiced long ago - and then clenched the Fist of Dorne with both hands, the roar of its power field still heard today. He seemed to be particularly happy about the upcoming battle.
"Come on, you Iron Warrior or Demon."
Gua.
There is a second chapter, currently being coded.
(End of this chapter)