Boarding Action

Kaiser Whitefang sat in the boarding torpedo's transport compartment, sharpening the Frost Axe in his hands.

On either side of him sat a Wolf Priest in black power armor and a wolf-skull helmet, and another figure draped in Fenrisian wolf pelts, holding a ritual staff wrapped in countless animal bones.

The Space Wolves' Librarians—the Rune Priests' style.

"Haven't you found that fleeting calm within the turbulence yet? We've been waiting for three hours. If this keeps up, I'm starting to wonder whether anyone on that ship is still alive."

"Don't rush, White Fang. I thought Fenris's icy seas had taught you to be a patient hunter."

Wodhaus Ice Wolf pulled out the Fenrisian Mead hanging at his waist and took a fierce swig. "This isn't simple work. I need to drink more before I can find an opening in this chaos and launch us out. The distance is short, and there aren't any damned asteroids or ship wreckage blocking our way, but it's still dangerous. The slightest mistake or carelessness could see our poor little boarding torpedo swallowed by the Warp, and us becoming a feast for the Dark Gods. By the way, do you have any more alcohol?"

Wodhaus Ice Wolf drained his Fenrisian Mead in several gulps and raised his brows at Kaiser Whitefang.

"Are you dreaming? I'm not giving you my drink." Kaiser Whitefang shielded his mead flask with one hand and glared at him dangerously. No one was taking a Space Wolf's drink—not even Leman Russ... Well, perhaps Leman Russ could take it, since Kaiser Whitefang could not beat him.

"Hm?" Wodhaus Ice Wolf's expression abruptly changed as he was still joking around. He closed his eyes and carefully sensed the movements of the Warp winds. Seeing Ice Wolf turn serious, Kaiser Whitefang stopped speaking and ceased sharpening his axe.

This mission had originally been intended as live-combat training for the Blood Claw pups who had just passed their rites. This old wolf was leading them, while Priest Bennett Wolf Claw beside him was responsible for recovering Gene-seed and supervising the Blood Claws' combat performance.

The hunting pack had even brought along a squad of Grey Hunters—the equivalent of a standard Astartes Chapter tactical squad—to deal with unexpected incidents during the journey. That cautious decision had ultimately proved useful. Who could have anticipated that a damned Chaos traitor would infiltrate the ship and open a Warp rift inside it?

After using his prestige to stop the impulsive Blood Claw pups, White Fang, Ice Wolf, and Wolf Claw swiftly decided that the three of them would lead half a Grey Hunter squad in a boarding torpedo straight into the lower decks of the Flame, eliminate the daemons, and shut down the ritual.

"Now! Launch!" Wodhaus Ice Wolf opened his eyes and slammed a fist onto the ignition button at his side. As the torpedo's engines roared to life, Ice Wolf drew upon all his psychic power to envelop the entire torpedo. White lightning erupted from his body, crackling through the transport compartment.

"AAAAARGH!" The instant the torpedo fully entered the Warp, sweat poured from Ice Wolf's forehead as though someone had dumped an entire bucket of water over his head. The whole torpedo was caught between the crushing pressure of Ice Wolf's psychic power and the Warp's power, groaning and creaking under unbearable strain.

Only after the torpedo crashed into the Flame's bubble-like Gellar Field two seconds later did Ice Wolf drop to one knee as though drained of all strength, gasping heavily. The powerful arm that always gripped his staff now trembled like that of an ordinary man tossed onto Fenris's ice fields and frozen half to death.

Seeing Ice Wolf in that state, Kaiser Whitefang knew his task was complete. If it had not been for that prophecy, he would not have left the Chapter's fortress to train recruits with them.

"The prophecy. The first condition has come true: collapse from exhausted strength." Ice Wolf told White Fang of his dire state in a trembling voice.

"Then next comes the second condition of the prophecy. Honestly, do prophecies really have to wait until they happen before you can tell us?" White Fang picked up his axe and kicked open the jammed boarding torpedo hatch. Wolf Priest Bennett Wolf Claw helped the Grey Hunters free themselves from their restraint seats. To cross the Warp as quickly as possible, the torpedo had endured too great an impact when it struck the Flame; even its Adamantium-and-Ceramite hull was severely warped and damaged.

"They are watching us. I must safeguard every part of the prophecy."

"All right, all right. I don't understand you priests' business. I just hope this prophecy is really worth it."

White Fang sighed, drank half his Fenrisian Mead, and placed the rest before Ice Wolf. Leaving the compartment, he looked across the Flame's lower deck, which had become gloomy and dark due to power loss and Warp corruption, then put on the helmet he had been carrying at his waist.

As the built-in Auspex and scanners activated, the surrounding darkness became clear and distinct. Though fighting in darkness was no challenge for Space Marines, an old wolf had to make thorough preparations if he wished to complete his hunt.

"Looks like we have some companions joining us."

The daemons, sensing the souls of the Space Wolf Space Marines, surged in from every direction. There were so many that the Auspex displayed nothing but massive patches of red. The Grey Hunters swiftly formed a combat formation behind Wolf Priest Bennett Wolf Claw, their Bolters and Heavy Bolters trained vigilantly on where enemies might appear.

These warriors had grown from Blood Claw recruits into Grey Hunters, becoming the backbone of the Space Wolves. Through long years of battle and hunting, they had shed the recklessness and impulsiveness unique to Blood Claw pups, replacing them with the cunning and calm of a hunting wolf pack.

Every one of them was a deadly hunter, capable of pushing the weapons in their hands to their utmost limits.

They were masters of close combat, able to tear apart their enemies in wolfish fury. Even daemons could be destroyed by them.

The tide of daemons crashed toward the Space Wolf warriors. Facing such overwhelming numbers, the Grey Hunters immediately switched their Bolters to full-auto fire. Dense barrages joined into a whip of destruction that lashed the arrogant wave, forcibly halting the daemonic assault like Fenrisian sea hunters conquering sea monsters with powerful steel harpoons.

"For The Emperor! For the Primarchs! For Fenris!" Wolf Claw's battle cry boomed loud and fervent through the amplifier built into his helmet.

"For the Allfather's ale!" The Space Wolf warriors answered in unison, destroying every daemon in sight with even greater fervor and battle-lust. As the daemons' numbers rapidly dwindled, the Grey Hunters advanced from their original firing positions, like a wolf pack driving panicked prey before them.