After a day of travel, several new red dots appeared on the Purple Crystal's scanner display.
One was a massive transport, accompanied by several strangely shaped ships as sharp as razors.
"Those are..." A Genestealer first officer's expression changed instantly as he looked at the strange ships on the screen.
"Drukhari raiding ships!"
Hearing the term, Lynn instantly recalled what he knew about this race.
The Drukhari were a group that lived by feeding on the suffering of others, seeking thrills in eternal schemes.
Space pirates who did so to avoid being devoured by the evil god they themselves had created, Slaanesh.
Their ships were incredibly fast, their weapons exceptionally cruel. They were a nightmare for almost all humans.
Clearly, that transport was under attack by the Drukhari.
Lynn also recognized the transport's model: Pilgrim-class.
Ships like these usually served as the personal vessels of the Imperium's mid-ranking nobles or merchants.
They often carried vast quantities of supplies, slaves, and untold amounts of Throne Gelt.
The hungry faces aboard his ship and the Purple Crystal's nearly depleted fuel flashed through Lynn's mind.
The corners of his mouth slowly curled into a malicious smile.
"Butcher."
Lynn's voice was frighteningly calm. "Get ready. We're moving closer."
Butcher paused, then broke into a savage grin. "Understood!"
Lynn leaned against the viewport, watching the transport being hunted on the screen, and murmured:
"A fat prize delivered right to our door. It'd be a waste not to take it."
He was no Mr. Nice Guy.
In the Song Offering's luxurious dining room, steaming thick soup bubbled in silver vessels.
The scent of spices mingled with the fatty aroma of roast meat, filling the room.
Kerry Von speared a piece of golden-brown steak with his silver fork and leisurely brought it to his mouth, a self-satisfied smile on his face.
He wore an immaculate Imperial officer's dress uniform, his chest covered in medals.
Most of those medals had been bought and meant little in practical terms, but they were impressive enough to bluff people.
"In three days-no, two at most-we'll reach Brevis Hive World."
Kerry set down his silver fork and wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin, his tone brimming with irrepressible smugness.
"Then I'll be the Planetary Governor of Brevis, its supreme ruler!"
Isolde Kola, sitting opposite him, had little appetite.
She wore a luxurious gown, her blond hair arranged in an elaborate bun. Expensive face cream covered her face, but it could not conceal the irritation in her brow.
She gently stirred the thick soup in her bowl with a spoon, her gaze sweeping over Kerry's handsome face.
Yet her eyes were full of disdain.
"Don't celebrate too soon." Isolde's voice was cool.
"The Warp Storm in this star system still hasn't dissipated, and our navigation system failed ages ago.
"You said the same thing seven days ago. And what happened? We're still going in circles in this damned place."
The smile on Kerry's face stiffened briefly before returning to normal.
He knew his wife looked down on him. She had from the very first day of their marriage.
He was descended from an Astra Militarum major general. It sounded impressive, but his family had actually fallen on hard times, leaving him with nothing but a title.
Apart from a handsome face, he did not even have any decent holdings.
If Isolde's family had not had some connections in Segmentum Obscurus, he would never have become a Planetary Governor in his lifetime.
But Kerry did not care.
He cared only about power.
"The navigation system has been repaired." Kerry raised his glass and took a sip of expensive red wine.
"Otto said we've locked onto Brevis's coordinates. There won't be any mistakes this time."
Otto, sitting beside them, immediately gave a fawning smile.
He was Kerry's adjutant, a fat man with shrewd eyes.
He wore a blue naval uniform, with a perfectly measured smile on his face.
He knew Kerry was an empty suit and that Isolde was the ship's true master.
But he always curried favor with both sides, though he was even more obsequious toward Isolde.
"Rest assured, my lady," Otto said respectfully, setting down his wineglass.
"I inspected the navigation system myself. There's absolutely no chance of anything going wrong.
"The signal from Brevis Hive World is already very clear. We'll arrive tomorrow."
Isolde glanced at him without speaking.
She did not believe a word of Otto's nonsense.
The Song Offering was filled with the wealth she had accumulated over many years.
Vast amounts of Throne Gelt, tens of millions of tonnes of food, and dozens of strong Ogryns.
These were all the assets she would use to establish herself on Brevis.
But when they left the Warp and entered realspace, they had been affected by that Warp Storm.
They had temporarily lost their bearings. A journey that should have taken three days had now stretched to seven, and they had only just found their way.
The thought of it left Isolde agitated.
She put down her spoon, picked up her glass, and drained the red wine in a single gulp.
The expensive liquid slid down her throat, but did nothing to ease her irritation.
"Have the Ogryns and servants aboard been properly settled?"
Isolde looked at Otto, a hint of sternness in her tone.
"Don't let them cause any trouble."
"Rest assured, my lady." Otto hurriedly nodded.
"They're all settled. The Ogryns are locked in the lower cargo hold, with dedicated guards watching them. Nothing will go wrong."
Isolde nodded slightly, apparently satisfied.
Kerry watched her imperious manner in silence.
He set down his wineglass and spoke with feigned casualness:
"By the way, Isolde, once I reach Brevis, I intend to appoint Otto captain of the governor's household guard.
"What do you think?"
Isolde paused, then frowned.
"Otto? He's too slippery. He isn't suited to being guard captain."
Isolde showed no concern whatsoever for Otto's dignity.
"I think he's perfectly suited." Kerry's tone grew firmer.
"He's served me for so many years. He's utterly loyal."
Isolde looked at the affected firmness on Kerry's face and suddenly laughed.
Her smile was beautiful, but her words carried cold mockery:
"Utterly loyal? Kerry, you'd better remember who got you that governorship.
"Without me, you'd still be a down-and-out noble who couldn't even afford enough to eat."
Kerry's face instantly flushed red.
"I'm descended from an Astra Militarum major general!"
Kerry's voice held a trace of pent-up frustration finally finding release.
"I'm the legitimate Planetary Governor! Don't go too far!"
"Too far?" Isolde set down her glass and leisurely wiped the corners of her mouth.
"I'm going too far? Kerry, ask yourself honestly: who gave you that governorship?"
Their argument grew louder and louder. The attendants in the dining room lowered their heads in fright, not daring to make a sound.
Otto sat beside them, the smile on his face growing somewhat stiff.
He knew the couple's differences had long been irreconcilable. They simply had not erupted until now.
Now that they were trapped in this star system, the pressure kept mounting, and those differences naturally came to the surface.
He calculated inwardly that once Kerry reached Brevis and became governor, he would certainly find a way to retaliate against Isolde.
As for himself, he only needed to cling to Kerry's coattails—no, he would still have to see how things went.
After all, Isolde was not a woman to be trifled with either.
Just as Otto was plotting his future, the Song Offering's hull suddenly shook violently.
Immediately afterward, shrill alarms rang throughout the ship.
"Alert! Unidentified ships detected approaching!"
"Port hull under attack! Shield energy down by 30%!"
"Bad news, Captain! It's the Drukhari!"
An attendant's report instantly drained the color from Kerry's face.
The wineglass slipped from his careless grasp and fell to the floor with a clatter, shattering.
"The Drukhari?!" His voice carried a hint of a tremor.