The stars gleamed in the distance, no matter where one stood in the cosmos they retained that haughty cold light, as if they disdained any who gazed upon them.
"Have we arrived?"
A creature of black iron and brass, a former Magos who had seen the true potential of the warp, turned towards the source of the question with a whirr of cogs and blurt of scrapcode.
"Logic engines determine location has not changed. Indomitable Wrath's location remains the same. Incoming data: local star cluster too young, aberrations detected in location of celestial bodies. Suggestion: allow for data collection and analysis"
So they had done it, the gods had deemed him worthy after all to carry their standard beyond the eyes of mere mortals. Maximillian Voss was a very happy man, or at least as happy as a devoted could be off the field of battle.
"Comms, give me a status report"
"Sir!" A being that would be considered human at first glance, if not for the fangs jutting from his mouth and a forked tongue, saluted. "No local Imperial transmissions, though we are picking up tight beam laser transmissions. It appears to be some kind of buoy system, if we can get closer to the actual source we can collect more information."
"The Blackest Night's wreckage is completely dead sir, no signals coming out, nor did any lifepods jettison"
Maximillian decided to risk a glance into the Sea of Souls, even for one chosen by the gods it was by no means a safe place. Opening his mind he gazed forth onto what would be a nearly calm warp. While eddies and emotions still ran strong though portions of it, it was by no means the maelstrom that existed mere moments earlier. When he opened the way, there would be no resistance to the gods.
A glance towards the ruins of the Blackest Night gave him a rather curious view he did not expect. A mere handful of xenos souls hiding just beyond the wreckage, interesting, the sensors hadn't detected their vessels at all. Perhaps a guide that the gods had granted them, a way to fresh slaves and sacrifices before the real work had even begun. A quick psychic tag on them would promise that.
Given any other warlord or priest of the warp, it was likely that Kalaheren's existence would have ended right there and then, either in a thunderous broadside or a fierce boarding action. Maximillian Voss was not any mere warlord of chaos, a mere warlord could never have spent decades outsmarting the Inquisition at every turn.
"Give the appearance of powering down the vessel and get whatever repairs that are needed done. Then we'll have a small hunt to conduct."
"I really really think that we should start going now. I really don't want to find out how effective those weapons are"
It was the first time Lisere had heard fear entering the Turian's voice. Normally he managed to keep his fears and doubts firmly in place both from military experience and a harsh life here in the Terminus.
A light started to flash, and for the first time since that monster had emerged, Lisere felt hope.
"Passive scanner is saying they just powered down their ship, looks like they're trying to repair some of that battle damage. Zerlan, I agree with Silea, we need to get out of here before they power back up."
Zerlan gave a slight tilt of the head. In a crew this tightknit, nothing else was needed to convey his agreement. Very slowly, using maneuvering thrusters alone, Kalaheren began a long drift away from the wreck, appearing merely to be a piece of the ship drifting off.
Two weeks later
Location: End of the Road
They'd only landed their ship when a rather angry looking band of Krogans had "arrested" them. Arrest at the End of the Road meant one thing, you forgot to pay Paxton, and when you forgot to pay Paxton you mind end up being served to his Krogans unless you had a really good excuse.
"Let's hear it already"
No one quite knew how the diminutive Volus had gained control of the station, nor how he managed to keep the loyalty of his thugs; people who inquired too much into such matters had accidents, usually near the closest airlock.
Zerlan opened his mouth to speak, a story had already come to mind, one that would allow them to keep their heads but prevent Paxton from claiming the find. Well that was his intention until a certain Asari began to spill everything.
"We found something to pay you with, there's a massive ship out there, no owners, no survivors and it doesn't use mass effect based technology!"
If Paxton could have shown disbelief through the mask of his environmental suit he surely would have. The Krogan guards were on the verge of laughing, or at least making an expression that would pass as humor among the Krogan.
"You really expect me to believe in the stories that old spacers tell themselves? Ghost ships and monsters using technology no one's ever seen? What's next, will you try and sell me space whale oil?"
As Zerlan mentally prepared himself for what was likely to be a long and gruesome death, a human female quickly ran in and whispered something to Paxton. No doubt one his many "consorts" he was famous for collecting.
"I guess I'll have to delay your execution, it just may be that your "ghost ship" decided to come pay us a visit, I do hope they can afford the berthing fees. If not, we can always put it on your tab no? Why don't you come watch her come in, I wouldn't want you running off and fleeing the station now."
The warp spoor of the xenos had been easy to follow, a trail of fear, desperation and greed that the Indomitable Wrath followed like a shark follows blood. The massive structures the xenos used to near instantaneously travel, Relays according to the data pilfered from a buoy, were interesting. There was nothing like them that any race, even the Eldar, had ever employed in the other universe. If they had stayed much longer he might have let the Magos try his hand at deconstructing it to learn exactly how it worked, but the hunt was afoot and the prey had finally gone to ground. A space station, unlike anything he had ever seen in Imperial space or the varied worlds within the Maelstrom. It appeared as a massive cross, with the "arms" appearing to be a mix of berthing stations and gun emplacements.
"This machine as located the biospoor of 1.2 million on the xenos construction. Spoor also includes humans, data unclear on how they came to exist here. Query: Request specimens for experimentation"
Maximillian smiled, not only slaves but with existence of humans there might be future warriors, or at least bullet shields to be claimed on that station.
"Begin target acquisition, merely cripple their ability to shoot back. Also, make sure a few of their shots manage to hit us, I'd like to see what kind of resistance this universe can offer. Summon Brother Geldon to the bridge."
Within a moments a post-human had arrived. Genetically and physically augmented to be a warrior without peer, standing at a little over 7 feet and clad in the thickest of armor, it was a sight to behold. The only thing more dangerous was one who had opened his eyes to the true gods, such an example stood before Maximillian now.
"My lord Archon, what is your will?"
Maximillian paused savoring the view, not many had the allegiance of these warriors and it had taken much sacrifice and bloodshed to convince them to serve a "mere mortal".
"Board the station with your brothers, hunt to your heart's desire, just leave enough to fill the slave holds."
"By your will"
The vessel had gracefully turned its side towards the station, as if performing some ballet.
"We're being targeted, kinetic shields are at full and the mass drivers are loaded. Permission to fire?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes! What are you waiting for?! Don't let them damage my station!"
While normally calm, when presented with a threat against his investments Paxton tended to lose his head, already he was calculating the lost profits from firing the guns and what kind of damage he might have to repair.
Accelerating a metal slug to several thousand kilometers per second, the End of the Road's defenses were more than enough to scare off pirates or even pirate hunters who might come calling. Scare off however, was the key word in this situation. These guns were neither top of the line models, nor were they well maintained, despite all the metal they spat forth none of it was enough to successfully overload the Indomitable Wrath's void shields.
"Sir, they're firing…a broadside?"
The gunner sounded confused as he should, who would fire broadsides in this day and age? What insane man would even consider mounting the ships main guns on the sides of any space faring vessel. The station's kinetic shields screamed as massive shells began to pummel them into submission. Moments later they collapsed, leaving the station wide open.
As Zerlan and his crew slowly crept towards to command room's exit, they could have sworn they smelled Paxton sweating.
"they're launching shuttles towards the station, should we surrender?"
The Volus seemed to wrestle very hard with the idea of giving away wealth to these strange pirates, but gave in, realizing at this moment it was the only solution. In the distance faint sounds could be heard, not unlike that of a drill.
"Unknown vessel, this is Station 1077B: End of the Line, please list your demands"
Silence was the only response. As Paxton's nerves frayed even more, he slowly began to realize that not only was the crew of the Kalaheren missing, so were his bodyguards. He stumbled towards the door, giving the fastest waddle he could towards his personal ship. He was thrown backwards as the door opened, his entire field of vision taken up by was looked like an iron shod leg. Funny, the leg was crushing his chest, but he couldn't feel anything, how odd was his final thought.
Incandescent light burned though the void as lance fire systematically destroyed and disabled the weapons that dotted the space station. While not as effective as his own, the enemy weapons, gathered in sufficient numbers may be enough to bring his ship to an early grave. No matter, the Brotherhood had already landed using boarding torpedoes and Blood Eagle warriors were launching their assault boats. The station was dead, it just hadn't realized it yet.
Sturlok, one of the few remaining station guards who hadn't fled, tried to form the rabble with him into a coherent firing line. Though the enemy was well trained, they didn't have kinetic shielding, making them easy targets to take down whenever they engaged. The real problem was the enemy weapons ignored kinetic shielding. When had man portable laser and energy weapons been developed? And how the hell did pirates get their hands on them?
Lasfire broke his concertation, punching a Batrian to the ground with a crack as air was instantly vaporized along the laser's path.
"Return fire idiots! I'll get us some support from Nurgon's group, hold tight"
"Nurgon, there's a good fight here and they're getting to close to our ticket out of here, we need some support!"
The line stayed silent
A sudden roar filled the air, the kinetic shielding of one of the few humans defending collapsed. A second roar signaled the human's death as he appeared to simply explode after being hit. Other roars were heard, each signaling an imminent death for a defender and resulting in a cheer from the attackers.
Before long, Sturlok was the only one remaining and thus, witnessed those who broke his last ditch defense. They were massive, slightly taller than he was, clad in some kind of motorized or power armor. Skulls and freshly gathered heads dangled from long chains strung at their waists, as the creatures turned towards him, he recognized Nurgon's head dangling from one such chain.
Maximillian was pleasantly pleased as reports began to flood back in. Prisoners had been taken from every major xenos race on the station, causalities were light, and Brother Geldon had indicated great pleasure in fighting a particularly war like xenos, even managing to capture a specimen for the Magos.
A few vessels had managed to escape, but it was no matter, they would spread fear and terror with every passing system. A fear and terror that would rile the placid warp and create the conditions necessary for the ritual to occur. Things were going as planned, though a small feeling at the back of his head made him feel uneasy, as if he was being warned. He needed to meditate, perhaps the Changer of Ways would enlighten him to the nature of this feeling.
Location: Minos Wasteland, Sector Outskirts
The Turian patrol group halted. Their sensors had indicated some energy fluctuations were occurring out here, anything that could threaten Turian economic interest in the sector needed to be dealt with and fast. They never could expected anything like this.
The portal of writhing energy closed, leaving that thing, in its place. With engines at maximum, the Turians did the unexpected, they fled. This had to be reported to the Council, they were not equipped for viable first contact, especially not with that. More importantly, they need to begin preparing the mining corporations for a potential evacuation given that what came through that portal was clearly a warship.
Inquisitor Braeburn stood up, the transition had not been easy. Crewmen law scattered over the deck, the astropaths had all died the instant they entered the xenos portal, and now the logic engines and cogitators were spitting out nonsense about no Imperial signals.
"Where in the name of the Emperor are we?"