Koz drifted like a ghost through the dimly lit Eldar warship.
Fresh crimson blood dripped from his claws.
When they teleported aboard, they unexpectedly encountered a small Dark Eldar force.
Koz easily slaughtered that force and took the time to savor their despair and screams.
Warriors of the 8th Legion surrounded him, advancing in a stealth formation.
Tax, a Terra veteran implanted with the Empire's first-generation Gene Engine, commanded this team.
They passed through a colossal corridor made of crystal and spirit-bone.
Exaggerated, twisted sculptures towered on either side of the passage.
The air reeked of blood, while unnamed fluids made the deck sticky.
Flayed creatures hung from the ceiling by hooks and chains, writhing in agony.
"Disgusting," one Legion warrior complained. "This warship is practically a slaughterhouse."
"A wretched corruption." Koz sounded faintly pleased. "Just as my father expected, such corrupted creatures should not exist in this galaxy."
"Father, what should we do next?" Tax asked.
The Primarch did not hold command authority over the Legion.
Yet because of their gene-seed,
the Legion warriors generally felt an attachment to their Primarch.
As the commander, Tax also instinctively regarded Koz as their leader.
Koz said, "Kill every enemy on this ship who dares resist."
Tax asked, "Should we take prisoners?"
Koz nodded.
"Of course. Send them to an ice planet to work as slaves growing potatoes."
Tax looked confused.
"Why make them grow potatoes? And on an ice planet, no less?"
Koz froze, stopping where he stood.
"I can't remember the exact details, but something inside me tells me this is important—more important, even, than taking this warship."
"As for why they have to grow potatoes on an ice planet, perhaps it's an acquired taste."
Tax said, "It's a strange reason, but we will carry out your orders."
Koz issued