The Crimson Tide's next moves seemed to reflect the Primarch's "prophecy." Rather than conquering territory, they took an unconventional approach, carving out a long, narrow path as though they had abandoned supply lines entirely and were heading straight for Terra.
Typical pirate behavior: loot wherever they fought.
The army's first battle took place on an Agri-World. How backward was it? It had almost no space-age technology, including communications capable of reaching across the sub-subsector or a Planetary Void Shield.
Every year, the barbarous natives set aside enough livestock to meet their quota and turned it into specially prepared ham, paying their Imperial Tithe once every five years.
These special, five-year-aged hams were exquisite delicacies. Properly cooked, they could grace the banquets of the rich and powerful. But once they passed six years, they became tough, dry, and difficult to swallow.
Whichever tribe contributed the most food at each collection became the planet's ruler, enjoying the authority granted by the Imperium.
Usually, that meant little. If the other tribes refused to obey, could anyone really expect the Imperium to send the Astra Militarum to beat them into submission?
Ultimately, fists did the talking.
When the Crimson Tide's ships arrived, a fierce tribal battle was raging below.
The reason for the fighting seemed simple enough: should Harlax Pie contain fruit?
Who cared? It was just an excuse anyway.
Information here was so limited that the locals not only had no idea what Astartes were, they did not even recognize Bolters. When the Primaris Warriors emerged from their Drop Pods, the combatants actually began whispering among themselves, mocking these steel giants carrying stubby cannons.
*So big, yet so slow. Aren't they just targets for artillery? Their armor isn't as thick as a tank's, their guns aren't as big, and they don't move as