"Here Is the Ninth Company of the Imperium of Man's Blood Angels Legion

Ninth Company—"Lamenters"

Not long after.

The shuttle completed its landing in the cruiser's massive hangar, the hydraulic braking system releasing a long, hissing exhaust.

As the hatch slowly opened, Jim Raynor's helmet lenses adjusted automatically. The sight before him made his breathing—and that of Tychus and the accompanying Raynor's Raiders—catch in their throats—

The hangar was far larger than they had imagined, over a hundred meters high and wide enough to accommodate more than a dozen Thunderhawk Gunships, arranged neatly in two columns of five rows.

The enormous dome was supported by crisscrossing alloy beams, its surface covered in rail systems for maintenance arms.

The hangar floor was laid with honeycomb-patterned non-slip metal grating. Dark oil stains and traces of pale blue coolant had congealed in the gaps.

Thousands of intelligent mechanical units were at work, their multi-jointed arms moving with precision and producing rhythmic clicking sounds.

In the maintenance area on the left, three Achilles Land Raiders were undergoing repairs. Their composite armor plates were covered in spiderweb cracks scorched by plasma weapons, and ceramic coatings had peeled away in places, exposing the metal substrate beneath.

On the right, more than a thousand recovered Drop Pods stood in neat rows, their black-gray shells covered in ablation scars left by atmospheric friction.

"Everyone, this way, please."

At that moment, a Synthetic wearing a dark gray uniform approached. The shark-tooth insignia on his chest gleamed with a cold metallic sheen beneath the hangar lights.

The Synthetic's face and body had been designed with advanced biomimicry. At first glance, he was no different from a human; only the occasional stream of data flashing through his pupils revealed his nonhuman nature.

The Synthetic led them through the bustling work area, passing a cluster of Thunderhawk Gunships being loaded with ammunition. Ground crews and