The Horus Heresy, but I’m a Loyalist
Chapter 368

Boarding to seize control of the brain

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"Short-range Torpedoes, load!"

The order echoed across the weapons deck of the Unyielding Truth. Amid the roar of machinery and the whine of the Servo System, silver-white projectiles sixty meters long traveled along conveyor belts into cold launch tubes.

Their warheads were pointed, their Shells reflecting the dim lights aboard the ship like newly grown fangs in a behemoth's maw.

The attending Adeptus Mechanicus Sage rapidly chanted a brief activation prayer in binary, withered fingers tracing the final blessing runes across the cold projectiles.

"Fire!"

Fifty trails of ghostly blue exhaust flared simultaneously along the Unyielding Truth's flank, briefly illuminating the floating metal wreckage and frozen blood mist around it.

The Torpedoes left the warship at tremendous initial velocity, then switched to their own propulsion. Trailing long, brilliant wakes, they plunged into the chaotic space ahead like fifty silver swords hurled by an invisible hand.

Rather than following straight paths, they deftly threaded through the burning ship wreckage strewn across the battlefield.

Massive engine sections, broken armor plates, shattered turrets, and even the twisted skeletons of entire warships formed this forest of death.

The Torpedoes' navigation systems flickered faintly as they continually adjusted their orientation, clearing obstacles by mere fractions of an inch and hurtling unerringly toward the enormous target hanging in the distance like a star.

"Enemy interception fire! From the Construct's surface!"

As the warning sounded, countless tiny, pore-like gun emplacements lit up across the surface of the monstrous Construct.

The beams fired by those emplacements struck their targets with precision.

Silent explosions blossomed in the vacuum, orange-red fireballs erupting one after another along the Torpedoes' flight paths.

Expanding, superheated plasma and jets of metal swept through everything around them. The already fragile wreckage was torn apart again, becoming an even finer, deadlier storm.

Sometimes, a single Torpedo's

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