Rogier set out with the Azure Celestial Pool and the Strike Cruiser Silent Fire, sailing inward toward the heart of the Galaxy along the border between Segmentum Pacificus and Segmentum Obscurus.
He reached a remote human colony and no longer wanted to leave.
Snow stretched as far as the eye could see. This world had 389 days in a year, and 341 of them were blanketed in white.
The permanently frozen ground at the poles and the endless snowy mountains filled Rogier with delight.
This world was not a planet, but a planet's moon. Gravitational forces caused frequent tectonic activity. Although it was not as violent as Fenris, it still qualified as a perfectly decent home for the Space Wolves.
Commonly known as Space Wolves frolicking-in-the-snow syndrome.
Not leaving. I'll find some way to drag things out and stay here a little longer.
Rogier led the Wolf Cub recruits in dawdling here for quite some time. They painstakingly searched every inch of ground, and the tiny settlement, which held nothing but the frozen remains of mortals, had already been turned upside down countless times.
Of course, they found no booze. The mortals had drunk it all before freezing to death.
So they went to the hangars and vehicle bays, trying to find some alcohol.
Yes, they ignored the Machine Spirits' protests and had themselves a good drinking session.
There was little to see outside. Perhaps life existed beneath the thick snow, waiting for the crucial forty-odd days each year when it could become active, but it was winter now. Everything outside was silent save for the sound of wind and snow scraping against the walls.
In this harsh environment, the drunken Wolf Cubs seemed to awaken some innate talent, suddenly gaining senses far sharper than before.
And wouldn't you know