934.M30.
Vessorine System, Antimar Sub-sector. Black ships traveled out from the Warp into realspace.
Escorted by frigates and destroyers, the transport fleet at the center of the formation fanned out.
Aboard the fifty-two whale-like transports, the Shadow of Order's Chirurgeons looked down across the decks.
During the five-week voyage, following the command of their gene-father, they had selected the most exceptional individuals from a constantly mutating population, extracted their biological tissues, and enriched the biological gene bank with their research data.
The "Apothecaries" simultaneously experimented with thousands of drugs and recorded the feedback.
In unison, they pulled down the control levers. As runes flashed, a pale green, minty gas was released onto the decks below.
The crocodilian mutant, its body densely covered with swollen scales and bony plates, was the first to wake.
The fourteen eyes hanging across its face opened one after another.
It stared blankly around, fragmented images flashing through its chaotic mind:
Smokey yellow haze blanketing the shantytown;
The cold laboratory table, the repeated injections of agents into its limbs; the needle piercing its body, the milky white fluid filling every part of it with strength...
....
An uneasy roar shattered the crocodilian mutant's recollection. One by one, the mutants on the deck awoke.
The mutant next to it had severely cracked skin on its ears, like worn-out palm-leaf fans.
Hearing the sharp sound of the female mutant beside him flicking her tongue, the crocodilian mutant swung his fist, smashing it against the eye-covered tongue.
"Scram!" The crocodilian mutant surged to his feet, towering at least three heads taller than any other mutant around.
His massive fists slammed into two mutants, sending them flying dozens of meters into the crowd.
The crocodilian mutant felt an unprecedented pain in his fists. He brought them back to his eyes.
Scales were askew, skin wrinkled and clinging to the bony plates.
A blinding light suddenly flashed through his mind. He remembered the searing brightness that erupted after he picked up that big 'gun.'
He had survived the explosion, but his body had grown weaker.
"Roar, roar, roar..."
The mutants around him gathered. Their mouths and noses fused together, their roars accompanied by drool streaming unceasingly.
A piercing sound suddenly blared. A deep voice emanated from speakers on the wall.
"Mutated humans!"
"In the past, you were treated as pests, driven out of the hives to die. You were turned into monsters in sticky chemical waste and foul industrial exhaust."
"Now, the Monarch of Vostroya, the great Primarch, Lord Nareth, grants you the chance for a new beginning."
The crocodilian mutant heard a familiar name: "Nareth..."
The name spoken from those two unseen, exquisite machines.
The mutants opened their mouths, baring rows of sticky, rotten teeth, and roared loudly.
"Horse shit blessing!"
"To hell with your lord!"
"Bullshit Nareth, tell him to..."
....
The Chirurgeons, hearing the foul language, opened a comm channel and ordered the Vox Master.
"Shift frequency. Switch to the high-range band."
High-frequency sonic waves, based on Nephilim research, blared and echoed across the decks.
Buzz, buzz, buzz...
The distorted bodies convulsed violently. The mutants collapsed, falling helplessly to the decks, prostrate.
Dozens of seconds later, on the decks of the entire ship, the mutants were all curled up together.
The deep voice sounded again: "You will soon be sent to a new world. You will survive in a harsh environment."
"You will receive food, real food. Not the fungi you used to eat, grown in chemical waste and industrial sludge."
"Now, you can begin your experience. Today's food is nutrient paste."
Clanking mechanical sounds echoed. Mechanical arms extended from above.
Thwip, thwip, thwip...
A series of transparent bottles tumbled down with a clatter.
Bang!
A bottle landed in front of the crocodilian mutant, a faint scent wafting from it.
Instinctively, he extended a trembling arm, grabbed the bottle, tore off the lid, and poured the liquid down his throat.
The liquid, along with sand-like crystals, slid down.
Not like sticky syrup.
No bitter, strange rust taste.
No smell of rotten, moldy fungus.
Gulp!
He swallowed, his throat vibrating.
All fourteen eyes widened.
It was delicious.
The fragrance spread. Drooling, the mutants lunged for the bottles filled with nutrient paste.
Fifteen standard hours later, a black transport ship hovered in low orbit above the surface of the Dusk Moon, the natural satellite of Vessorine Prime.
Web-like boarding nets were cast down diagonally. Electric crackles snapped, herding the mutants as they tumbled down rapidly.
Bang!
The crocodilian mutant hit the orange-red surface first. He bounced up instantly, as if thrown onto a scorching hot pan.
The third eye on the right side of his face burst like a rising blister. Pus splattered with a sizzle.
His extra limbs on his back flailed wildly, then drooped limply like a tail.
The scales on his body fell away like dust and debris, revealing his wrinkled form.
The mutant with cracked, fan-like ears and the female mutant with an eye on her tongue crawled up from the scorching surface. They saw the tall mutant unable to straighten his back.
They shrieked and charged towards the scale-shedding mutant from left and right.
"Scram!"
The mutant swung his right fist at the male mutant's cracked ear.
His wrinkled skin rapidly shriveled. In the span of a few breaths, it seemed he had aged over a decade.
His fist smashed into the enlarged ear. With a squelch, pus splattered onto his fist.
The mutant snarled in delight. The newfound disparity in strength made him roar in triumph.
He threw another punch, hitting the bony plates.
Thump, thump, thump...
Bone fragments scattered. His wrinkled, shriveled skin slammed onto the orange-red surface, dim flames flickering to life.
Eyeballs, like glass marbles, rolled out one by one, swiveling to watch the tardy woman.
The woman lunged down, her tongue darting out like a snake's, coiling around the sizzling eyeballs.
"Die!" the male mutant roared, swinging his fist down.
The female mutant rolled to dodge, crashing loudly into a crate that had fallen from the sky.
Bang!
The surface of the crate sprang open, revealing axes and longswords inside.
The female mutant quickly drew a longsword and swung it at the pursuing mutant.
Fifty transport ships spread across the low orbit of the Dusk Moon. They did not land on the orange-red surface, but continuously cast down boarding nets, then retracted them, herding the stunned mutants with electric shocks.
One transport ship, at a higher orbit, dropped crates filled with weapons.
Another transport ship dropped crates with cushioning airbags filled with nutrient paste.
In areas with sparse life signals, it also dropped Attilan Ovigor, green Catachan Devils...
Amid the sound of airbags bursting, as hundreds of Ovigor hit the ground, their thick fur drifted down like disordered willow catkins.
A mutant with rhino horns saw the green four-legged beasts, his eyes lighting up as he lunged.
The Catachan Devil snarled and leaped, its green body blurring into a phantom.
The mutant swung his axe down, slamming it into the orange-red surface.
With a rustle, the green shadow shot onto him. Its crimson maw gaped open, foul, pus-filled blood spraying.
Mutants retrieved weapons from the crates and charged at neighboring mutants, fighting for more food and seizing more weapons.
Blood mixed with mutated pus splattered onto the orange-yellow rocky surface.
Four million of the most severely mutated beings, their mutation-granted powers fading with their decay, became the majority of the first day's dead among the Dusk Moon's initial inhabitants.
As the red star's light bathed the orange-red surface, the mutants howled, surging madly towards the falling crates.
They raised their weapons, charging towards the food promised by the man named Nareth.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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