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(6/20)
Harald pulled his Power Axe from the wreckage of the Contemptor Dreadnought, a length of scorched metal cable dangling from its blade. Sticky machine oil and hydraulic fluid ran down the haft and between his fingers.
The massive Dreadnought had had its observation window smashed open and its arm severed before being toppled to the ground. Half the mangled body of a veteran protruded from the ruptured cockpit in its belly.
Harald did not spare it another glance.
Standing on the Dreadnought's wreckage, he shook the slime from his axe blade and turned toward the depths of the corridor.
Behind him gathered the Space Wolves warriors who had just survived the meat grinder in the corridor.
They were drenched in blood. Some had broken helmets that exposed sweat-soaked faces; others had lost half a pauldron to an explosion, leaving fresh, blackened wounds on their exposed skin.
But their eyes remained sharp as blades as they waited for Harald's orders.
"How many do we have left?" Harald asked.
"Just over a hundred who can still fight," a veteran of the Space Wolves Legion replied.
"Enough." Harald grinned. "Follow me. We're going to tear out this ship's heart."
With that, Harald turned and strode deeper into the corridor. The other warriors followed close behind, charging toward the bridge.
The route to the bridge was unexpectedly quiet.
Harald had expected wave after wave of resistance, but only scattered Bolter fire and the lingering sounds of dying echoed through the corridors.
The Sons of Horus Legion clearly still controlled what remained of the warship's command systems. They were concentrating their forces on the bridge rather than wasting them in the passageways.
Occasionally, a squad rushed out from cover along the flanks