The boarding action began with the first furious roar of a Bolter.
But that was merely the first jarring note in a symphony of death.
As the first wave of loyal warriors found their footing amid smoke and flames, tearing through the traitors' hastily erected Defense Line with gunfire and Chainswords, the real storm had only just begun to pour through the warship's breached hull.
"For Fenris! For the Allfather! Kill every last one of these oath-breaking bastards!"
Like thunder crashing into a steel tomb, Company Captain Beowulf's battle cry drowned out every other sound in the passageway.
He had not entered through a conventional hatch. Instead, he had piloted a Boarding Torpedo straight through an already damaged armour plate on the Sandstorm's flank, brutally smashing his way into a main passageway on the middle decks.
Explosive flames and shattered Metal Shards sprayed in every direction, like bloody fireworks celebrating his arrival.
Before the thick smoke had cleared, a towering figure draped in heavy wolf pelts and radiating bloodlust strode out of the breach. Every step made the metal floor groan beneath his weight.
The massive Power Axe in his hands, Frosthowl, was already active. Its Force Field hummed, ice-blue energy arcing along its blade and illuminating the eyes blazing with fury beneath his Helmet.
Ahead in the passageway, seven or eight traitor Space Marines had only just recovered from the blast and were frantically raising their Bolters and Chainswords.
What greeted them was a cold flash that tore through the air.
Beowulf did not even run. He simply took one great stride, twisted, and swung his axe!
The Power Axe traced a deadly arc, its Force Field parting the air with a piercing shriek.
Of the first two traitors in its path, one tried to raise his sword to