The Slaver ship was a labyrinth of rooms and corridors that favored the defender.

“Is it better to be feared or respected? I say, is it too much to ask for both?—Lord Admiral Zaccarius Rath, hero of the Ganzona Rift

* * *

On 6 973 744.M41, the battle barge Emperor’s Fury, patrolling the outer planets of the Dozarian System, registered an energy spike indicating that a void ship had left the Warp and entered Real Space at the system’s Mandeville Point. 

The ship’s captain, Veteran Sergeant Guibert Allard, took notice of the new arrival and noted, after 30 minutes, the failure of the ship to broadcast its arrival and provide Imperial registry codes as mandated by the Navis Imperialis.

Emperor’s Fury was relatively close to this mysterious ship—only 540 million kiometers away—and Allard ordered an intercept course.

“Make no effort to communicate. I want that ship to move in-system. When if finally notices us, I want to be too close for it to run away.”

The battle barge  quickly adjusted its heading and accelerated in the direction of this mysterious newcomer to the system.

For a time, the mystery ship appeared unaware that the battle barge was racing towards it—until 17 hours later when the Emperor’s Fury came within 20 million kilometers and began to arm its weapons.

That’s when the newcomer abruptly changed its heading and attempted to accelerate away, on a heading back to the Mandeville Point where it could jump out of the system.

Smugglers, pirates, or ne’er-do-wells—they cannot escape, Allard thought as he sat in his command chair. He ordered the gunnery master to target the ship’s engines. One barrage was all it took to vaporize two propulsion nozzles and leave the ship helpless, moving solely on its momentum.

“Tell me what we’ve caught,” Allard called out.

A junior officer supervising the auspex arrays replied instantly. “Reliance-class light freighter. Out of production for at least three millennia. Small ship. Minimal weaponry. Sensors indicate a few score lifeforms aboard. A half-faded name can be made out on the bow: Dirge Aeterna.”

Allard signaled to his executive officer to approach. “Order Brothers Durand and Talon to ready their squads for a boarding action.”

The Space Marines advance steadily through the ship. They are nigh-impossible to stop.

* * *

“Durand. Contact. Thirty meters to my front.”

Veteran Sergeant Oudart Durand acknowledged the report. “Take note. Heretical heraldry on corridor bulkheads has been identified as associated with the Balar Slavers. Advance and sanction without mercy.”

The Balar Slavers had long been a scourge of the Corvus Cluster. A pirate band that operated across several sectors, the Slavers were infamous for raiding isolated planets in search of innocent civilians who could be sold to xenos, traitors, and disreputable planetary governors and manufactorum officials needing cheap labor to meet their Imperial tithes.

“Addendum: There may be prisoners aboard. Do not sanction individuals in restraints, but show extreme caution. It is possible slavers will attempt to hide themselves amidst such prisoners.”

Over the comms-net, the sound of boltguns firing could be heard.

Brother-Sergeant Bertran Talon, leading a small squad down a parallel corridor, reported again. “Durand, armed gunmen at hatch of forward cargo bay. Am engaged.”

Durand acknowledged and led his squad forward at a fast pace.  A second hatch to the cargo bay was only 20 meters away, and as he approached, he could see figures lurking in the shadows of cargo crates and storage barrels.

“Multiple targets. Brother Gerard, move forward with your slab shield. Brother Rogier, behind Gerard. Prepare grenade.”

The unknown gunmen opened fire, unleashing a a wall of fire that slammed into Gerard’s shield. To the Astartes, the sound of autogun shells hitting was reminiscent of the sound of  heavy rain. He ignored it and fired back with his shotgun.

To Durand’s right, Brother Drouet fired short bursts from his boltgun. Fifteen meters away, a gunman’s head disappeared in a bloody miasma, then a masked gunman was thrown back as another bolt round tore open his chest.

Brother Rogier threw his grenade. It landed amidst a group of four men, and its explosion shredded flesh, muscle, and bone.

Durand picked up speed. , his armored  boots thunderous against the ship’s deck as he outdistanced the rest of his squad. Ahead, a gunmen with a gas mask and a glowing power maul was frantically firing his autopistol at the approaching Space Marine.

It was a pointless effort. Encased in terminator armor, the veteran sergeant was neigh-unstoppable, and when the gunman raised his maul to strike, Durand plunged his lightning claw deep into the man’s chest, lifted him off the floor, and tossed him aside. Before he fell to the deck,the Durand already was killing his next victim.

* * *

The corridors of the ship were thick with Slavers, an infamous band of pirates that has tormented the Corvus Cluster for centuries.

Sergeant Talon also was in the thick of it. The Slavers fought desperately, firing at point-blank range, swinging rifle butts and combat blades at the two-and-a-half-meter-tall Astartes, but their efforts were no match for the genetically engineered strength and speed of the Space Marine and his accompanying brothers.

Wielding a sword, Talon cut one man in half, crushed another’s skull with his gauntlet, and crushed the chest of a third gunman with a vicious kick. His brothers were close by, slaughtering men with blade and boltgun, sometimes using both weapons simultaneously.

The Slavers broke. Those in the rear turned and ran, leaving those closer to the advancing Astartes to die, even those that attempted to escape. Everyone within three meters of the Space Marines was killed before he could take a single step back.

Click here to read the conclusion of this adventure.

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The Corvus Cluster is a Warhammer 40K blog documenting our gaming adventures in the fantastical sci-fi universe of Games Workshop.