In the midst of Srunak's faux feast, a shadow descended over the dead ship, covering it in darkness and obscuring the sinister planet. This shadow was not a planet or an asteroid; its shape was long and sleek with two wide prongs at its front in a silent embrace and a pyramidal structure at its back girded with rows of pale green light. Seeing the familiar color, Srunak realized this was a Necron ship, though what dynasty it belonged to he could not tell. No markings of a dynasty were present except for the universal Ankh. He watched, Ork blood dripping from his fingers and misshapen legs that were forcing him to bend over even more than before, as the ship drew closer and its arms reached out to grasp the vessel. The ship trembled as the prongs latched on. Sruank fled the bridge, regardless of what dynasty this was, it was likely one with little tolerance for his deviance, and he needed to hide. He went into a side chamber on the right filled boxes of junk. Positioning himself between two boxes and putting more on top, he concealed himself as best he could and lay still while watching through a small crack for anyone who boarded the vessel.
Far off there was a sizzling sound, a crash, and skittering of metal feet. He recognized the sounds, they were Spyders. In just a few minutes, he saw a faint glow from the bridge, and the black shape of one of them passed in and out of his vision as it scurried about the room, chittering as it went. It approached one of the dead Orks and, strangely, picked it up in its mandibles. It went to another corpse and picked it up as well. A second entered his field of vision, and it picked up more corpses in the same manner. Before he could observe it more, his vision darkened. He peered closer out of the crack to see why, and bright green light flooded his vision. Falling back he scrambled to his feet, but the Spyder was instantly upon him. Its mandibles locked onto his ribs and held him in place, while two of its limbs started to secure his arms and legs. He fought to free himself, but the Spyder chittered again and another one entered the room to help capture him. With the second Spyder's aid, Srunak was secured firmly within the first one's mandibles, his head forced into staring at its featureless eyes. The Spyders chittered again and skittered back to the bridge. The second Spyder began collecting more corpses, while the one holding Srunak went back into the depths of the ship holding its new prisoner. Due to his position, he could see little of where he was going other than the occasional faint outlines of pipes and other metalwork about the ship.
The Spyder made a sharp turn, and he saw a doorway that glowed red with melting steel, and the ship's aesthetic suddenly changed from rust and shoddiness to organized and refined with dim green light to illuminate it. The machine turned again and went down a long hall that gradually widened and was populated with Scarabs crawling on the floor, walls, and ceiling attending to various tasks. The hall gave way to a wider area that was filled with even more Spyders and Scarabs, some active and moving, while others lay still, their eyes tenebrous. In the center was a large trapdoor that began to slide open. The Spyder stopped in front, still forcing Srunak to face it, and obscuring the trapdoor from his view. Out of the corner of his eye he saw more Spyders marching in, each one carrying rotting Ork corpses. He was going to be locked away again! He struggled with all his might, but the Spyder held firm, then suddenly released its grip, and he fell into the pit below. The walls were stained with the blood of countless aliens, and the Ork corpses splattered on the floor to join him. The trapdoor slid shut, leaving him in darkness. Once again, he was a prisoner. He still knew he served a dynasty, but perhaps this was it? Was he being brought back to a tomb world to be studied? He was baffled the Spyders did not kill him outright, for he still wore many skins from his time on the other ship. Regardless of their allegiance, it was certain they were taking him to the ominous gray planet. Perhaps he had a chance at redemption, perhaps not, but those events would come in due time. Now he felt the hunger, the longing, and he set to work.