Tovendis Zone. Black and grey-limestone ships emerged from the light.
On the bridge of the Glory of Light, Wilshire walked to the hololithic strategic table.
"Auspex, maximum power!"
Energy from the Punisher-class reactor was reallocated. The scanning arrays fed back results again and again.
As the entire zone became clearer, viewscreen after viewscreen lit up.
Wilshire looked up at the largest viewscreen, at the magnified scan image.
His target, the Dark Age of Technology ship, the Slaughtersong.
Its form was completely different from Imperial Gothic vessels.
The Slaughtersong had an overall ancient, simple style. Its exterior seemed composed of silver armor and glowing windows.
Wilshire opened his helmet's internal comm and assigned tasks.
"Master of Vox, the Slaughtersong has high cognitive ability. Send a communication request. Attempt to persuade it."
"Librarians, contact Zadkiel immediately. Have him formulate an interception plan and a boarding plan for me and my Honor Guard."
"Tell Winterburn: His First Company is to proceed to the surface of Tovendis and investigate the extent of heretical corruption among the local populace."
Upon receiving the Librarians' report, Zadkiel immediately took action.
The "Lawyer" had already, during the voyage, made the five Company Captains and their adjutants his devout followers.
He was certain he had become a true "Lawyer." After helping Wilshire secure the ship, he would surely receive another bestowal from Lord Nareth.
Through coordination via communication ships and Librarians, Zadkiel's plan was implemented.
Capital ships dispersed around Tovendis, like roadblocks.
One hundred sixteen frigates and destroyers were interspersed among them, ready to initiate interception the moment the target attempted to break away.
Zadkiel's fleet was positioned on the outermost perimeter, orbiting as a final line of defense.
Tovendis had not developed interstellar travel capability. The First Company's fleet reached orbit unopposed.
Shadow-pattern Stormbirds launched from ships like the Sun Shadow, flying silently towards the surface.
On the Glory of Light's bridge, Wilshire stood before the viewport, gazing at the Slaughtersong.
Silvery-white craft, completely different from Imperial designs, launched from the Slaughtersong and made contact with the black communication ships.
Wilshire waited patiently until his helmet comm buzzed.
"My Lord, it took some time to understand... what that ship was expressing."
"It seemed to say..." the Master of Vox's tone was uncertain, "Don't disturb it while it's listening to music."
Wilshire was also momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected such an answer.
'My Lord mentioned in the data-crystal that the Slaughtersong came to this world on its own.'
'He also mentioned that most heretics on this world worship the Chaos God Slaanesh.'
'One aspect of Slaanesh is the god of pleasure and art, a lover of songs... the Slaughtersong... hmm, that seems to fit.'
"Loop any songs you can find," Wilshire thought of the large number of "Bard" under his command.
He immediately ordered his Honor Guard Captain, "Compile a list of all Shadows of Order in the Chapter who are skilled singers."
Finally, he had the Librarians relay a message to Winterburn to verify if Tovendis's Chaos worshippers were connected to songs.
Winterburn's Shadow-pattern Stormbird landed thirty-five kilometers east of the area with the strongest life signals detected by the auspex matrix.
As he stepped off the Stormbird, Winterburn looked around.
In the basin, ancient trees stood tall. A winding river flowed like a silk ribbon.
'A beautiful world.' After this admiring thought, Winterburn grew more alert.
Leaving one adjutant and two squads to guard the craft, he led the remaining Honor Guard forward.
After crossing six hills, a thin, watery mist rose, clinging to the lush trees.
The Shadows of Order marched forward, like discordant elements breaking into a beautiful painting.
"Alert!"
Winterburn shouted loudly. He glimpsed six figures approaching in the distance.
Their movement was bizarre. Wrapped in silk, they walked with a sideways gait, their knees and ankles bent at strange angles, like reptiles.
They moved in this bizarre way, yet with abnormal speed.
Golden light flared in the "Solar High Priest's" eyes. He immediately saw the bodies beneath the silk.
Backward-curving horns. Upright tails. Extended tongues.
Slaanesh daemons.
"Sun Holy Water!"
Having encountered Slaanesh daemons recently, he knew how to deal with them.
Six "Light Suppliants" drew golden bottles from their belts and hurled them with force.
With a crack, the Slaanesh daemons shrieked.
The "Solar High Priest" raised his hand. Golden, illusory flames spontaneously ignited in the air.
The flames radiated the vast, pervasive aura of the sun, pure and sacred.
The contorted bodies of the Slaanesh daemons melted like wax, dripping away, vanishing amidst unwilling howls.
Winterburn led his team onward. His helmet comm received a series of reports with garbled signals.
Some supernatural force was interfering with communications.
As they advanced, he encountered no more Slaanesh daemons. A beautiful melody gradually seeped into his ears.
Reaching the edge of the dense forest, he surveyed the area ahead. He saw purple building roofs covered by a translucent, slime-like creature.
Its surface was gelatinous, covered in countless unblinking eyes.
Like a giant parasite, it occupied the rooftops of a chain of buildings, several hundred meters in diameter.
Its boundaries were fluid, constantly moving and oozing pus.
Six huge tendrils hung from its massive, amorphous body like writhing tentacles. The air filled with an absurd, disgusting shrieking.
Winterburn's gaze followed the tendrils downward. Suddenly, his eyes focused.
Each tendril was coiled around a person. Their bones creaked, slowly shattering under the torment.
Slime corroded their features. Eyes, ears, noses, organs vanished rapidly.
Yet the three men and three women simultaneously displayed expressions of agony and eerie satisfaction, as if enjoying it.
People around them knelt, singing beautiful songs devoutly and fanatically.
The beautiful melody contrasted sharply with the cruel torture.
A flash of anger crossed Winterburn's eyes. 'The people of Tovendis are beyond saving.'
"Attack!"
Bolters roared, blasting the heretics into bloody mist.
Golden light blazed in the "Solar High Priest's" eyes. The sun radiated.
A pure, clear, brilliant light, radiating pure warmth, descended from above.
"Holy Light Summoning" tore a hole dozens of meters wide in the Slaanesh daemon's body.
Countless eyes on its gelatinous body simultaneously fixed on Winterburn.
The "Solar High Priest" felt targeted by a malevolent supernatural entity. His entire body itched.
The tendrils bent, writhing and extending towards him.
Golden light flashed intensely in the "Solar High Priest's" eyes. He chanted in Dunnic: "Fire of Light!"
He raised his archaeotech pistol and fired. Pure light, empowered by "Holy Oath," became a pure golden beam.
CRACK, CRACK, CRACK!
Three tendrils ignited with golden flames, rapidly vanishing in the golden light.
The "Solar High Priest" gripped his thunder hammer. The blue force field rapidly turned gold.
He strode forward, swinging the golden hammer.
CRACK, CRACK, CRACK!
The hammer swung left and right. "Purify" strikes shattered tendril after tendril.
Winterburn pressed on. He saw Chaos worshippers, weapons in hand, charging madly.
He shook his head slightly, watching indifferently as they were torn apart by bolts.
The Shadows of Order advanced. Their black armor grew heavier and heavier, as if coated in slime.
"Converge!"
The "Solar High Priest" commanded. Golden light leaped, covering the area.
The sticky sensation rapidly vanished within the "Sun Aura."
"Sun Holy Water!"
The "Solar High Priest" raised his hand. Dozens of golden droplets materialized from the air. Together with the pre-prepared "Sun Holy Water" hurled by the "Light Suppliants," they rained down on the monster.
The Slaanesh daemon shrieked in agony. Its gelatinous body seemed to melt, rapidly vanishing in the light.
It shriveled to a tenth of its former size.
The "Solar High Priest" sheathed his weapons. He moved his hands. Golden, illusory flames spontaneously ignited in the air.
The flames, radiating the vast, pervasive aura of the sun, densely formed an ocean.
Pure, sacred, they covered the Slaanesh daemon like a net.
Amidst unwilling roars, the daemon rapidly vanished in the "Light of Fire."
Four hours later, the Shadow-pattern Stormbird ascended rapidly. Winterbourne, with more and more information compiled, established a communication link with the Light Lord and began his report.
After hearing Winterbourne's report, that all fifteen detachments had witnessed Slaanesh daemons and their worshipping cultists, Wilshire fell silent for four seconds, then issued the order.
"Erase Tovendis."
"Prepare the flyers. I will lead the two hundred warriors who sing best to the Slaughtersong."
"Maintain speed. Each Stormbird is to play selected songs!"
Black Stormbirds launched from the various ships. The best singers from each Company of the Second Chapter converged in the void.
The Slaughtersong's orbital speed around Tovendis suddenly increased. It streaked like a silver steed across the purple starlight.
Ship after ship, in high synchronous orbit, formed an attack formation.
Thousands of weapons aimed at the planet's surface below: bombardment cannons, energy weapons, kinetic weapons...
The multiple sonic booms from hypersonic missiles drowned out the lingering songs on the surface. A deafening roar rumbled.
Lances pierced the hazy, illusory mist. Vertical, blinding light beams twisted as they struck the surface.
Magma bombs fell from the sky, flattening lush peaks like hammers.
Blinding energy weapons seared trails, tearing through the twilight mist.
The silver-white ship turned. Weapon after weapon swiveled.
The Shadows of Order fleet reallocated energy, maintaining maximum void shield power.
The Slaughtersong did not fire. After one standard hour, it slowed, then turned, approaching the previously avoided Stormbird formation.
Inside the Stormbirds, Wilshire smiled.
His method had worked. As Tovendis's songs gradually subsided, the Slaughtersong was naturally drawn to his song matrix.
"My Lord, the Slaughtersong has extended a flight platform. It seems to be inviting us aboard."
"Land!" Wilshire ordered.
Two standard hours later, Wilshire led his team into the vessel, accompanied by song.
He noted the walls were composed of polished chrome surfaces and fluorescent strips. Every curved wall was smooth and flawless.
The floor was bright silver. The walls were covered in mirror-bright metal.
Every corridor and doorway they passed was rounded. Blank readout screens were everywhere, all emitting uniform light, along with the luminous strips on the ceiling.
Despite its age, its condition was remarkably well-maintained by internal machines, bright, clean, even cleaner than Imperial ships.
Wilshire did not head for the bridge. He proceeded directly, as the Black Emperor had instructed, towards the ship's core.
Passing through two decks, a piercing whoosh suddenly sounded.
SWISH, SWISH, SWISH!
Silvery-white disc-shaped drones, each with two cannons mounted on their sides.
Shiny drones, each with a single cannon slung beneath.
Wilshire raised his hand. Two hundred "Bard" burst into song.
Low melodies, magnetic harmonies echoed through the deck.
The discs and drones dispersed, keeping time with the rhythm. The group advanced unhindered, reaching the ship's core.
Grey-black memory stacks, towering like buildings, surrounded the entire plaza.
Faint light rippled across the surface of each structure. A wide, circular, dim-light stone floor was covered in slender light, forming complex geometric patterns.
Swirling patterns disassembled and reassembled with the ship's thoughts.
Wilshire signaled the music to stop. He called out loudly, "I have a proposal."
As the songs faded, countless craft howled towards them.
Wilshire's expression didn't change. He continued.
"Sign a contract with me. Every moment, you will hear songs sung for you."
After waiting fifteen seconds, he still received no response.
He removed his helmet, recalling the Viking war songs sung in his birthplace, the Morvus Hive on Terra.
"Vikings set out for foreign shores, the men of the North depart, on the king's ship, warriors stand shoulder to shoulder, ready for battle..."
The passionate war song rang out. The surrounding Shadows of Order stomped their feet in time with the song.
The powerful song thundered, echoing through the ship's core.
As the song ended, the sound lingered in the plaza.
A minute later, as the sound gradually faded, a vox-synthesized voice, carrying a tone of approval, almost like a human speaking, sounded.
"I am willing to sign a contract with you."
The "Notary" produced the prepared parchment. On it was written a contract in Dunnish and Gothic on opposite sides.
[Contract between Wilshire and the Slaughtersong.]
[Obligations: To continuously provide song for the Slaughtersong.]
[Rights: The Slaughtersong will serve the Second Chapter of Shadows of Order, including in void warfare, repelling boarding actions...]
Silver light shone upon the contract. Then, with a rumble, a silvery-white arm extended from a grey building, signing simultaneously with Wilshire.
After the "Notary" signed in acknowledgment, he felt a subtle, yet invisible, connection form between himself and the parchment.
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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