Warhammer: Striving to Be a Grinding Man

Chapter 163 The Cross-Section of the Spirit Bone (Part 1)

In orbit around Chogris, the Black Pearl had been waiting for weeks. White Scar's reconnaissance ships patrolled the darkness of the outer reaches of the system, covering every potential network exit. Waiting, static lurking, rotating shifts—everything operated in silence.

After Cohen relayed Garros's assessment to White Scar, Kublai Khan issued a brief order: the psionic links of White Scar's reconnaissance ships would be simultaneously connected to the Black Pearl's astronomical array. Several of White Scar's reconnaissance ships had already dispersed into the darkness of the outer reaches of the system, continuously patrolling areas with a high probability of network exits. The reconnaissance ships' mission was not to hold any particular point, but to cover as many potential coordinates as possible, regardless of the direction the network extended from, and to detect its traces as soon as possible.

After receiving Khan's permission, the Black Pearl did not remain in the Chogris orbit but instead headed towards its pre-designated infiltration position on the outer edge of the system. Marcus stood at the tactical console for a long time; the coordinates were scattered across a sparse grid on the projection, each node marked with a different "probability level," like a game of chess where the opponent's move order was unpredictable. In the third week, based on the latest patrol tracks of the three reconnaissance ships, he adjusted the Black Pearl's infiltration position westward three times, each adjustment being on a minute scale. After the final adjustment, the Black Pearl's coordinates were precisely at the edge of the intersection sector of multiple high-probability regions, allowing it to enter the network in the shortest possible time, regardless of where the network exits were located.

The Shadow Field activated at full power the instant it arrived—the stealth array reverse-engineered from the Dark Eldar frigate suppressed the Black Pearl's thermal signature, electromagnetic radiation, and radar cross-section to below background noise. The engines remained in a low-power, readily activating state, the hull remained static in the vacuum, all sensors were shut down, and only the communication link indicator light glowed a dim green.

During this period, the ship's alert level was gradually increased, with shifts implemented. The eight Caesartus assault boats had completed basic calibration, and each boat's side hatches were etched with serial numbers, from CGV-01 to CGV-08. The core protocols for Starfortress carbines had been pre-loaded. The 16th Regiment began escalating to battalion-level combat readiness rotations. Kara was sometimes on the maintenance platform, sometimes not. She rested between shifts, waiting like Cohen.

Marcus stared at the tactical projection on the bridge. "The Black Pearl is in position. The White Scar reconnaissance ship's psionic link is connected. Now we just wait."

Hunting requires patience. Cohen possessed patience. White Scars were hunters by nature; patience was their instinct. A week, a month—in the second month, when everything was ready, the Storm Prophets simultaneously opened their eyes deep within Quanzhou Fortress.

They sat in the ancient stone chamber at the very bottom of the fortress. The walls were etched with psionic runes accumulated over millennia by the White Scars, each engraving shimmering faintly with the pulse of the warp. The eldest Storm Prophet raised his head in the darkness, his psionic senses piercing the veil between reality and the warp—he saw not the surface of Chogris, but a tearing spatial structure, the outline of the net tunnel's exit coalescing.

The first exit had begun to open several days ago, but its energy signature was so faint it was like a sigh, leading the Storm Prophet to classify it as a "reconnaissance passage," unworthy of deployment. Now, however, a second rift is forming, its energy fluctuations several times stronger than the first. This is a main passage.

He tapped a rhythm on his knee, and a hoarse Chogris dialect squeezed out of his throat: "The prey is here."

The psionic pulse traveled along the White Scar's psionic network and merged into the reconnaissance ships' psionic links. Seconds later, in the darkness of the outer reaches of the galaxy, the sensors on the three reconnaissance ships almost simultaneously detected the anomaly: the spatial distortion index spiked by several orders of magnitude. Without hesitation, the scouts quickly compared the coordinates with the Storm Prophet's perception pulse, confirming the consistency of the dual sources, and then simultaneously pushed the final coordinates to all responding units within the galaxy via the psionic links.

The Black Pearl's communications panel received the coordinate data in less than ten seconds. Marcus's voice came from the bridge, brief and steady: "Coordinates confirmed. Target locked. Engines at full power."

Cohen spent most of his waiting time in the private workshop. When the coordinate confirmation signal came, the tactical information panel on the side of the workshop door turned from green to red. He stood up and walked out of the workshop.

The hangar was different now. Kara emerged from the shadows of the maintenance platform, clad in dark gold, finely crafted armor. The composite plates of terracotta and adamantite gleamed with a somber sheen in the cold light, and an old burn mark from the Battle of Invernus marked the edge of her shoulder armor. A bomb pistol and a chainsaw sword hung at her waist, and her helmet was tucked under her arm. She walked toward the first boat, its hatch sliding open to reveal the Stormtrooper vanguard already in position. Kara stopped at the hatch, checked the syringe pouch on her belt—a resistance syringe containing a pale blue liquid was ready—and then stepped through the hatch.

The ship's technical priest crouched at the side hatch of CGV-01, holding a red-hot consecration iron, pressing a binary rune along the armor seam at the edge of the hatch. The holy oil hissed and evaporated on the scorching metal surface, blue smoke rising in the dim hangar before being swept away by the circulating air. He closed his toolbox, output a short pulse into the communication channel—"Order complete," the machine spirit confirmed—then stepped back, turned, and walked towards the next ship.

The 16th Regiment is assembling towards the hangar and upper deck, with dark gold power armor forming a continuous line in the ranks, and deep red robes covering the armor.

The "Chagatai Pride" received the signal on its pre-cruise trajectory. Inside the combat barge's bridge, the indicator lights switched from standby green to combat red in less than a second. The first mate on duty pressed the shipwide broadcast button, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement: "All personnel in position! Netway exit coordinates confirmed! Company, assemble on deck!"

Inside the hangar of the combat barge, the White Scar soldiers of the garrison were already lined up. They wore MKIV power armor, modified from captured White Scar suits, with lightweight ceramic plates added to the outer layer. At the very front of the formation, twelve Hades-type Terminator armors stood silently, the White Scar Chapter insignia on their adamantite shells gleaming with a dark silver luster under the searchlights.

Units in the White Scar garrison fleet capable of immediate response activated from their respective positions. Three escort ships simultaneously ignited from different lurking coordinates on the outer edge of the system, their thruster exhausts leaving three parallel blue streaks in the darkness, fanning out towards the network exit. The "Chagatai Pride" shifted at full speed from its pre-cruise trajectory, its plasma engine output shifting from cruise to combat mode within seconds.

The Black Pearl's conventional engines were pushed directly from cruising to their maximum power. The thrusters left a steady blue trail in the vacuum. The Shadow Field maintained full power operation at high speed. Marcus's chosen ambush position was now precisely in the flank sector of the network exit direction. The Black Pearl covered the distance from that position to the exit coordinates at a speed far exceeding that of other Imperial ships of its class—its acceleration curve traced an almost vertical ascent on the instrument panel, the cooling system operating at full power, expelling excess heat from the radiator grilles on the hull's back, leaving a dark red thermal contrail in the vacuum.

Twenty minutes later, the sensor officer's voice came through, calm and normal: "Coordinates are approaching. The network exit is fully deployed."

""

A blue-white energy rift unfolded at the coordinates, and the fibers of space curled outwards from the edge of the rift, like a curtain being pushed open from the inside.

Three Nightscythe-class corvettes filed out, maintaining formation spacing at the edge of the energy barrier, waiting for the main force to complete its passage before commencing maneuvers. Immediately afterward, the bow of a Dark Eldar Torture-class cruiser emerged from the crack. The shadow field generators on its hull showed no signs of activation, all the weapon hatches on its sides were tightly closed, and the gun barrels did not extend from their mounts. Its captain could only look forward; behind him was a closing energy wall, and to the sides were still unstable sensor views.

The Black Pearl arrived first, its hull cutting diagonally into the Torture-class cruiser's blind spot at near-body distance. Three Whitescar frigates followed closely behind, simultaneously attacking the Nightscythe-class frigate from three directions, torpedoes and laser cannon fire crisscrossing and cutting through the vacuum. The energy shockwaves from the network exit continued to tear at the spatial structure; the Dark Eldar's sensors pulsed violently in distortion, and chaotic hissing erupted from the communication channels. They attempted to reorganize their formation, but the brief dizziness after the crossing slowed their coordination.

Marcus's right mechanical eye was locked onto the tactical projection. His hand fell on the communication key for the boarding command: "Launch the boat."

"Engine Prophet, preheat the ramming system! If that ship starts its engines, I'll nail it here."

The hangar hatch of the Black Pearl flipped outwards. Eight Caesartus assault boats slid off the catapult tracks, their thruster exhausts bursting into eight parallel blue streaks in the vacuum. They cut directly into the dive arc from the catapult angle, noses slightly down, inserting themselves into the chaotic gaps at the exit of the net tunnel with maximum acceleration.

Kara was already standing behind the hatch when the first hot-melt drill bit of the boat lit up on the side armor of the Torture-class cruiser.

Behind her, the Stormtroopers' vanguard, strapped into their seats in the dimly lit cabin, had the tactical displays on their helmet visors glowing a faint green light. Pale blue resistance injections had already been injected into their circulatory systems through the port on the side of their neck armor. Pupils dilated and contracted briefly, their reaction speed pushed to the biological limit.

Her short, shrill voice burst through the communication channel: "We've crashed! The breach is open! Charge with me!"

The hatch exploded open. Kara was the first to burst from the hull, her dark gold-plated armor flashing coldly in the emergency lights of the passageway. Her boots landed on the Torture-class cruiser's passageway floor. A boltgun was sheathed, and the first shot pierced the Dark Eldar sentry at the end of the passageway. The Stormstrike team followed closely behind, pouring in simultaneously through eight gaps. Boltgun bursts exploded in the narrow passageway, and the Dark Eldar had no time to mount an effective counterattack in the initial seconds.

At the crossroads, Kara paused briefly. She felt something pressing down from the darkness above and to her left—not a sound, but a subtle shift in airflow as it was sliced ​​through. As she turned, a thin, dark purple beam grazed the edge of her shoulder armor, leaving a charred hole in the wall behind her. Without looking up, the two Stormtroopers behind her simultaneously raised their guns within fractions of a second, firing two molten beams into the shadows. With the sound of dripping molten metal, a twisted figure plummeted from the height.

After securing the breach, the engineering team pulled a portable flaring device from the stern of the assault boat and deployed thermoelectric cutting claws along the edge of the breach, enlarging the breach large enough to accommodate docking with the Black Pearl's boarding passage. The entire flaring process took less than two minutes.

Kara, from the side of the bunker inside the gap, said into the communication channel, "We can make contact."

The Black Pearl slowly decelerated, its hull approaching the Torture-class cruiser at a precise side angle. The boarding ramp extended from the Black Pearl's side, its docking rings engaging and locking with the flared edge of the breach. The ramp was now open.

The Stormstrike Force's follow-up forces poured in through the boarding tunnel, deploying behind the bridgehead position established by Kara. Heavy explosive teams, thermal assault teams, and communications jamming teams dispersed in the tunnel according to pre-arranged groups. Immediately afterward, dozens of Starfortress mechs entered through the same tunnel; each step of their over four-meter-tall steel hulls caused a short, metallic tremor in the tunnel floor. The 16th Regiment's advance battalion began to pour in, clad in dark gold CMC-120 power armor and deep red robes, with servo skulls hovering behind them.

The gap transformed from a fragile breach into a functional forward outpost.

Cohen's Stormbird completed its final system self-check in the shadows of the Black Pearl's hangar. The specially installed Shadow Field activated at full power, reducing signal signature to its limit. As he boarded, the hatch closed behind him, and the cockpit dashboard lit up with a dark green standby light.

The Stormbird silently slid out of the hangar hatch on the side of the Black Pearl facing away from the enemy ship, its thruster exhaust flames almost invisible.

The Black Pearl released a cluster of thermal decoy flares and a directional electromagnetic interference pulse into the gap between the two ships. The decoy flares exploded at the edge of the enemy ship's sensors, creating a false thermal signal. The Stormbird glided out from the shadows where the two ships were close together and cut into the direction of the net exit along a separate low arc.

The main force of the Stormstrike Team was deploying inside the ship. Kara's voice came through the communication channel, more steady than before: "Our main force is launching an assault, targeting the enemy bridge, maintaining continuous suppression along the passageway. The 16th Regiment is establishing depth support."

Cohen didn't answer. The outline of the network portal gradually became clearer ahead. A broadcast from the psionic network came through the communicator: something was still crawling out of the network portal's exit.

It was fully exposed to the vacuum as the Dark Eldar fleet was still passing through the exit. It was a massive archway, high enough to allow cruisers to pass through, and much wider than the entrance to a typical Imperial shipyard. It wasn't an energy projection—Cohen had confirmed this as they approached—it was a physical structure shaped from spirit bones, anchored in the real universe. Starlight fell on its pale surface, giving it a sheen like solidified moonlight, as if white flames were burning. It was open, its information now in its complete state. Within the gate, ripples of void rippled like water.

As the Stormbird approached the top of the arch, it slowed and hovered, its thruster exhaust plumes almost invisible. The hatch opened, and Cohen's boots landed on the surface of the spirit bone. The field extended outward the instant he stepped onto the spirit bone, covering every inch of the material at the point of contact.

The decomposition command has been issued.

The information about the spirit bone unfolded at the atomic level, flooding his consciousness—its material was somewhere between bone and stone, its molecular arrangement unlike any material known to the Empire, with extremely fine psionic energy conduits embedded between each lattice layer. The temperature was lower than the surrounding vacuum, as if some living material was continuously drawing heat from its environment. Its internal structure was extremely ancient, predating the Empire's existence, and psionic energy surged within those conduits.

His consciousness continued scanning the information flow. The network gates had to be closed before the second ship passed. And the data he needed was being stripped away and archived layer by layer.