As one of the Captain's arms snapped, he didn't surrender. Instead, he gritted his teeth against the pain and reached with his other hand for the Laser Pistol lying on the ground.
"This is Imperial territory. You have no—"
Peter saw that the Captain was still bleeding heavily and trying to fight back. He couldn't end the man's suffering; all he could do was make it worse. The people present were senior officers of an Imperial merchant fleet, not natives of some savage world who could be cowed by a single beheading.
Peter took off his helmet and pressed his tongue against the Butcher Gland, forcing venom from it. This modified organ beneath a Space Marine's tongue made his saliva highly corrosive, helping him digest tough food and melt chains.
Peter held a thick glob of saliva in his mouth. The Captain before him struggled to hold his gun in his left hand, laboriously raising the Laser Pistol to fire.
But with a single spit, Peter sent his saliva straight into the man's face.
The Captain, who hadn't made a sound even when his arm was broken, now screamed in agony as if a bucket of sulfuric acid had been poured over his head. His cries shook the entire bridge, as though the walls themselves echoed his despair. The screams hammered at the hearts of every mortal present, warning them what resistance would bring.
For two whole minutes, they listened. The Captain screamed for two minutes as he died slowly. Only when the saliva dissolved his skull and destroyed his brain did his cries gradually fade.
Looking at the brave man before him, Peter gave a quiet sigh that no one else could hear, then changed his tone.
"Anyone else unwilling to surrender can step forward now."
He swept his gaze across the remaining crew. It seemed no one else would resist.
Peter put his helmet back on and opened the internal comms.
"Freddy, how's your squad doing?"
A reply came through his helmet.
"We met slight resistance. The engine room is secured. No casualties."
"Good. What about Anthony?"
Anthony's voice came through as well, but the great distance between the ships made it faint and distorted.
"The ship is under control. No casualties."
It seemed this had been a simple boarding action, and Peter couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. After all, Peter was a Space Marine who had fought in the defense of Terra. Back then, they had faced many excellent mortal soldiers: fearless, well-equipped men. Countless of his brothers had been killed by those very mortals they had looked down on.
Space Marines weren't invincible. They never had been. Mortals could kill a Space Marine if they were well-trained and brave enough, armed with the right weapons and backed by even a little sound strategy.
Sometimes, all it took was a bit of luck: an artillery crew fired a Petrifying Lizard Cannon, and the shell happened to hit a Space Marine in the face; an Astartes happened to step on a Melt Bomb laid by sappers.
Fortunately, the soldiers on these two merchant ships had none of that. It had been an easy fight.
After that, there wasn't much else to it. Some Sailors from the Blackrock went aboard the other two ships to put down any possible resistance, while some of the flagship's crew came over to take charge of them.
Once everything was arranged, it was time to inspect the spoils. Peter and his brothers went to the storeroom to see what the two ships had brought them.
The mortal First Mate beside them unlocked the storeroom with a key. The group entered one of the armed freighter's main holds.
The hold was dim and stuffy. When the lights came on, rows of lamps lit up in sequence, revealing the vast quantity of cargo inside.
The towering racks aboard the ship held Adamantium and Plasteel, hundreds of barrels of Oxygen Phosphorus Gel and Rocket Propellant, crates of Self-Sharpening Diamond Warheads, and already-cut Monomolecular Blades.
Anthony pried open a metal case nearby. Inside were countless neatly packed, cut rubies.
He picked up a ruby about the size of his little finger and examined it closely.
"High-purity ruby crystals, already cut for use in focusing Laser Gun energy. There are about two thousand in this case—enough to make two thousand Laser Guns. Captain, it looks like we've taken a freighter carrying cargo for some industrial world or Forge World."
Peter accepted the manifest a mortal handed him and glanced over it.
"And that's not all we've seen. There are vast reserves of Promethium, chemical propellants, Prometheus Fuel, Composite Plastic Steel, precision electronic components, large quantities of smelted Fine Steel, chemicals...and even some gold."
Peter analyzed the list as he read.
"The cargo on these two ships is all raw material for weapons and equipment, bound for an industrial world. And..."
When he saw the destination, Peter paused. Then a bitter smile tugged at his lips.
"This cargo is all meant for Apate Howard."
Hearing something odd in the Captain's tone, Anthony asked, "What's wrong, Captain? Is this Apate Howard a big deal?"
Peter nodded and replied unhurriedly.
"He's the head of a small Rogue Trader family. By Rogue Trader standards, he's only moderately powerful at best. But that's beside the point. He's the person we're supposed to trade with on this trip."
Anthony couldn't help but stare.
"So we robbed the person we were supposed to trade Gene-seed with?"
Peter nodded but didn't panic, continuing, "That's right. We robbed him. But it doesn't really matter. No one aboard managed to escape, and neither ship has an Astropath. We have both ships under control, so the news can't get out. He won't find out."
"Besides, we're a Chaos Warband. There's no reason to spit out what we've already swallowed. We just have to make sure they don't discover us. When we meet him, we'll hide these two ships far away. Plenty of ships enter the Warp each year and never come back."
Though things had gone a little awry, Peter felt the raid had been a great success. His brothers had suffered no casualties, and they had seized a vast quantity of raw materials for weapons and equipment. They couldn't use the materials as they were, but even on the black market they'd fetch a hefty sum. Better yet, they could haul them back to their Homeworld, start up the production lines, and make their own weapons.
After they finished inspecting the spoils, the three ships formed a fleet. Captain Barnabas joked that if they kept raiding like this, the War Band would soon have more and more merchant ships—until he, the Lord of Fleets, became the lord of a merchant fleet.
On the whole, though, it was a good thing. At least the War Band had more ships now, and armed merchant ships still had some firepower.
Now, with the Blackrock leading the way, the three ships entered the Warp once more. Their destination this time was the location of the Rogue Trader dynasty's flagship.
Before you continue