"Hum—"
Accompanied by an extremely faint, low-frequency hum that caused the deck to vibrate only twice, the New State concluded its second Warp jump. The veil of reality tore open before the bow, and the white starship slid smoothly back into the materium.
On the bridge, Gamma-9 was pressed against the observation window, his single eye wide with shock. He even reached out to pat his stomach.
"I didn't vomit—I actually didn't vomit?"
Gamma-9 looked at his hands in disbelief and let out a joyous laugh. "Hahaha! Praise the Omnissiah! This is a miracle!"
In the past, traveling on Imperial ships during a Warp jump was an experience roughly equivalent to being stuffed into a tumble dryer and then thrown off a cliff. Crew members would suffer intense nausea, splitting headaches, and even terrifying hallucinations of the dead screaming. After every jump, cleaning servitors would spend hours scrubbing vomit off the floors.
But this ship was different. Aside from a slight distortion in vision, Gamma-9 hadn't even felt the ship move.
This was the true value of Golden Age navigation technology. Modern Imperial Navigators relied on a mutated third eye to stare directly into the Astronomican, steering by intuition and experience. Six, however, performed billions of calculations per second to precisely predict every Warp current, threading the needle through the turbulence. It wasn't just stable—it made the path itself feel wider.
Andy sat in the command throne, ignoring Gamma-9's wide-eyed wonder. He checked the mission clock.
It had been only twenty-three hours since the New State took off from Forge Seven. At this rate, they were a full day ahead of schedule.
"Six, what is our current position?" Andy asked.
Six's cool voice rang out: "We are currently positioned directly below the Calixis Sector, on the edge of Port Wander, specifically the outer gravity well of the Ruby II system. We are 20,000 kilometers from 'The Maw'."
Andy nodded and gestured to open the external optical sensors. The bridge's main screen flickered and then brightened. The moment the view outside became clear, every person on the bridge sucked in a sharp breath.
"Hiss—"
The mechadendrites behind Magos Zol went rigid. "This... there are too many people, aren't there?"
"Holy crap," Andy muttered, stunned. "Is this the Spring Festival rush?"
In the void ahead, the space was densely packed with ships. Not dozens, not hundreds—but thousands upon thousands of vessels of every conceivable type, huddled at the edge of the Ruby II system.
There were legitimate Imperial merchant haulers, Adeptus Mechanicus ark-ships, and battered civilian transports that looked like they had barely survived their journey. They looked like a traffic jam on a highway during a holiday, clogging the star system completely. Every ship was jostling in the same direction.
In that direction lay a massive, swirling nebula glowing with an eerie violet light: "The Maw."
It was the only stable Warp route leading to the Koronus Expanse.
On the Imperial charts, this place was a unique entity. The Calixis Sector sat on the edge of the Segmentum Obscurus, marking the boundary of Imperial civilization. Beyond that, crossing the Warp route known as "The Maw," was the Koronus Expanse—the gateway to the Halo Stars where Andy was headed. Beyond that lay the deep void of the Halo Zone.
Normally, only Rogue Traders who valued profit over their lives or criminals wanted by the Imperium would venture there. But now, this place had become a lifeline.
As the Eye of Terror grew more active, Warp storms had begun to ravage the entire sector. Most conventional routes were severed or had become lethally dangerous. Only "The Maw," due to some unknown astronomical phenomenon, remained relatively stable. Consequently, refugees, deserters, and opportunists from across the sector had flooded here.
Everyone wanted to "run." To flee the approaching Black Crusade, the Tyranids, and the Orks. Even if the other side was an unknown wilderness, it was better than staying here to wait for death. In that regard, Andy's mindset was exactly the same as theirs.
"Don't push! Stop pushing!"
The comms channels were a chaotic mess of shouting and cursing.
"This is a ship of the Agripinaa Food Conglomerate! I have priority passage!"
"To hell with your priority! My ship is about to blow! I need to dock at Port Wander for repairs! Move!"
"Move up in the front! Do you want to die?!"
Andy frowned as he listened to the noise. If everyone wanted to flee, they should be charging through. Why was everyone stopped here?
"Zoom in on the front," Andy said, pointing to the head of the fleet. "Let's see what's blocking the road."
Six adjusted the focus. The image zoomed past the jumbled civilian ships and focused on the entrance to The Maw. The moment he saw it, Andy's heart sank.
There was a fleet stationed there. An Imperial Navy fleet, arrayed in a standard battle formation, guns bristling and pointed outward, radiating a cold, murderous intent.
Over a dozen Lunar-class Cruisers, joined by two even larger Dictator-class Cruisers, stood like a wall of iron across the entrance of the trade route. Their hull plating bore the striking white double-headed eagle of the Aquila and a string of High Gothic registry numbers.
"Battlegroup Barteford," Magos Zol's voice turned dry. "The main force of the Calixis Battlefleet. It looks like they've blockaded the route."
Andy watched the flickering void shields and the macro-cannon arrays primed to fire. It wasn't so much a blockade as it was a massive checkpoint. Any ship attempting to force its way through would be instantly turned into space debris.
Furthermore, among the grey Navy warships were several slender vessels painted jet black, devoid of any registry numbers or heraldry. They weren't particularly large—smaller than frigates, even—but the sense of dread they projected was stronger than the Dictator-class Cruisers.
"That's—" Sisyphron peeked from behind Andy, caught one glimpse, and immediately ducked back, his face turning ghostly pale.
"Black Ships."
"Inquisition Black Ships."
The temperature on the bridge seemed to drop to freezing. In the nightmares of the Imperial citizenry, these things were second only to Chaos Daemons in terror. They belonged to the Astra Telepathica and the Inquisition, and their sole mission was to hunt psykers, mutants, and heretics across the galaxy.
If you were dragged onto one of those ships, there were only two outcomes: either you were taken to Holy Terra to be used as fuel for the Emperor, or you were executed on the spot.
"Damn it!" Andy cursed under his breath.
He should have seen this coming. The Calixis Sector had a nickname: "The Inquisition's Back Garden." The famous Inquisitorial fortress, the Tricorn Palace, was located on Scintilla, the sector capital. The density of Inquisitors here was likely higher than the density of rats in an Underhive.
On the eve of a Great Collapse, the Inquisition certainly wasn't sitting idle. They weren't blockading the route to collect tolls; they were screening for Chaos infiltration. With the Warp energy spilling from the Eye of Terror, many refugee ships might be hiding Chaos cultists, or crew members might have been corrupted during their flight.
The Inquisition would never allow such filth to escape into the Koronus Expanse and pollute it as well. Therefore, every ship wishing to pass had to undergo the most rigorous inspection. Cargo, people, and even mental scans by psykers. Only those who received a "Certificate of Purity" signed by the Inquisition were allowed through.
"Now we're in real trouble."
Andy leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the armrest. He turned to look at the holographic model of the New State.
He began to audit his ship's "composition."
First: This was an unregistered ship with no legal identity. While it was once a Rogue Trader vessel, that was centuries-old history; there was a high probability the current Imperial databases had no record of it.
Second: The ship's aesthetics were completely wrong. Imperial Navy ships were clunky, dark, and covered in skulls and purity seals. The New State, after Andy's repairs, was sleek, white, and smooth—looking more like a xenos creation.
Worse still, the interior: The ship housed Six—an "Abominable Intelligence" of maximum heresy. Death sentence.
Next: The ship was packed with prohibited industrial equipment with forged or non-existent serial numbers. Death sentence.
Furthermore: There was a Genestealer locked in the cold storage. Death sentence of death sentences!
The ultimate kicker: The Captain of this ship was a Man of Iron! That wasn't just a death sentence; that was the kind of ultimate heresy that got your name erased from history and your ashes scattered.
Essentially, every screw on the New State screamed "HERESY." It was like a wanted criminal driving a stolen police car filled with drugs and weapons, with a terrorist in the passenger seat, strolling into a police headquarters and asking for directions.
If Andy dared to fly the ship anywhere near that checkpoint, an Inquisitorial psyker only had to glance over, or a Navy surveyor had to scan the hull. The next second, every lance and macro-cannon would be locked onto them.
"Lord Andy, we can't pass," Magos Zol said, slumped in his chair, rubbing his face with a mechanical hand. "Those Black Ships... their scanning arrays can penetrate conventional shielding. Once they find an active Abominable Intelligence on this ship, we are finished."
"Even if we turn tail and run, we can't outrun Navy cruisers."
"Then what do we do?" Gamma-9 asked. "Force our way through?"
"Don't be stupid," Andy snapped. "Those are two Dictators and a squadron of Lunars, plus the Black Ships—who knows what dark tech they have? The New State is repaired, but it only has a single void shield and its weapons are still primitive. Charging a regular military blockade with this loadout is just suicide."
Silence fell over the bridge. Before them was an airtight blockade; to their sides was the vast, empty deep space with no supplies and no routes. They were stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Andy watched a poor ship in the queue. A seemingly ordinary merchant vessel approached the checkpoint and was immediately locked onto by a Black Ship. Without warning, a lance battery on the Black Ship's side fired.
"Zing—"
The merchant ship was sliced in half instantly, the explosion blooming silently in the void. Apparently, the Inquisition had sensed something and performed a summary execution. The scene sent a shiver through everyone on the New State.
Ruthless. That was the Inquisition's way: better to kill a thousand innocents than let one heretic pass. Under such high-pressure "red lines," any clever tricks or disguises were futile.
Andy took a deep breath. Since conventional methods were off the table, he had to think outside the box. If they couldn't go through the front... could they go around? Impossible. The Warp turbulence around Ruby II was too strong; The Maw was the only way.
Which meant—
"Six," Andy turned. "What do you think?"