The last Fourth Company warrior still resisting fell amid a volley of bolts and the roar of chainswords. His shattered, power-armoured body crashed against the final alloy blast door leading to the Bridge command room, dark blood winding along the grooves in the deck.
Smoke, Ozone, the acrid stench of molten metal, and the heavy reek of blood mingled, filling the blood-soaked corridor.
The Loyalist Faction's warriors panted heavily. Many had suffered fresh wounds, but the fire in their eyes burned fiercer than ever.
They gathered silently, their gazes fixed on the sealed, heavy blast door that represented ultimate control of the warship.
Behind it lay the heart of the Remembrance of Ashes.
Biberus stood at the front.
He did not pause, nor even glance at the corpse still twitching faintly at his feet.
Turning sideways, he pressed the muzzle of his scavenged plasma pistol against the door's control panel. Its power indicator had turned a dangerous red.
Bang! Sss!
A dazzling blue-white plasma orb instantly melted through the panel's Shell and incinerated the delicate transistor circuitry inside.
The blast door sounded a shrill alarm, its red lights flashing wildly, but stopped abruptly halfway open, jamming on its Orbit and leaving a gap barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through.
It was enough.
Biberus squeezed through first, turning sideways. The plasma pistol hummed with overheating in his hand, a scorching halo still lingering around its muzzle.
His other hand gripped the chainsword he had seized from an enemy, blood still dripping from its teeth.
The Bridge command room opened up before him.
It was an enormous circular chamber arranged in tiers.
Across several rings of control consoles, densely packed instrument panels, Holographic Projection displays, and communications screens flickered with ghostly light, illuminating hundreds of mortals' faces twisted with