Aboard the flagship of the Tenth Chapter, Weeping Needle, in its lowest decks.
The Apothecaries of the Shadows of Order habitually situated their laboratories in the deepest parts of their vessels.
Lord Ramsey descended the spiral staircase to the entrance of the laboratory, marked by a spiral sigil. As he stepped inside, the light immediately dimmed.
Unlike the clean, bright labs of other Legions, the Shadows of Order's laboratories had no gleaming walls or bright lights.
The light came entirely from the surrounding silos, illuminating the operating tables where the Apothecaries supervised the Legion's medical servitors in performing surgical augmentations.
The light that did penetrate grew dimmer towards the central experimental table.
Ramsey's eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom.
His prominent nose twitched slightly. As a master of biomancy, recognized even by Hathor Maat, Magister Templi of the Pavoni Cult of the Thousand Sons, as second only to their Primarch in the field, he could clearly sense the blood in the stasis jars and rune-sealed vials.
Ramsey knew that the Apothecaries, blessed by the Black Emperor with miraculous power, developed a preference for blood once they became Barons.
They typically fed on the blood of Fenrisian beasts, such as Krakens, that the Space Wolves supplied. This tradition had begun after the Black Emperor had humbled Russ on Duram.
They also occasionally fed on the flesh of the Salamanders, a testament to the friendship between Lord Vulkan and the Black Emperor.
"Chapter Master," the Chapter's Apothecaries bowed in greeting. Ramsey nodded in acknowledgment, addressing Chief Apothecary Mikael.
"I've captured thirteen Bone Drinker hosts."
Mikael looked at Ramsey, noticing no containers behind him. He understood that Ramsey must have used some strange power granted by the Black Emperor to contain the hosts.
"Prepare the containers."
The Tenth Chapter's Apothecaries moved immediately, inputting a series of runes into the consoles.
With a clanking of chains, mechanical arms lowered silos filled with various colored solutions.
Bang, bang, bang...
The chambers opened, each releasing a different odor from its yellow, green, red, orange, and purple solutions.
"They can leave their hosts briefly," Ramsey stated with certainty, having probed the Bone Drinkers with his biomancy.
"It doesn't matter. They'll sleep soundly." As the "Scarlet Scholar" Mikael spoke, a hazy moonlight began to gather above his head.
The gentle moonlight bathed the thirteen experimental chambers.
In the moonlit glow, Ramsey felt his two hearts slow, the blood in his veins moving more sluggishly.
The "Shepherd's" eyes flickered. His obsidian gaze looked up at the hazy moon.
"Your power is strange. It makes every cell seem to lose its vitality."
"This is a moon phase I observed in the Tek system," the "Scarlet Scholar's" voice drifted from beneath his black hood.
"Moon phase." Ramsey repeated the word, moving to one of the chambers.
He raised his hand. A shadow rose, and an infected host slid silently into the chamber.
Ramsey watched the dense spores, seemingly asleep, clinging to the host body, neither fleeing nor moving.
He then placed the other Bone Drinker hosts into the chambers.
As the chambers closed and began to rise, the moonlight above gradually receded, focusing solely on one of them.
In the other chambers, the Bone Drinkers became active.
Thump, thump, thump...
A dull pounding. In the chamber filled with green solution, runes flickered, and the liquid vanished rapidly.
As the solution was completely absorbed by the host, a grey radiation beam scanned the host.
In the orange chamber, red runes flashed, and the liquid began to boil, sending up a series of bubbles.
...
The Tenth Chapter's "Potions Professors" immediately dispersed to their consoles, examining the experimental data and reporting to the Chief Apothecary.
"Physiology... individual diameter: 1.5 millimeters..."
"The xenos individuals exhibit clear colonial parasitic traits. They instinctively feel a physiological need for biological bone... Each feeding provides enough nutrition to sustain them for 49.2 standard days..."
"The Bone Drinkers must attach themselves to a host. They will die 5.8 hours after being separated from the body..."
Ramsey listened to the Apothecaries' reports until the runes in the twelve chambers fell still.
One "Potions Professor" was the first to make a suggestion: "Catachan barbed thorns?"
The "Scarlet Scholar" Mikael considered for a few seconds. "It's worth a try."
Ramsey watched as the Apothecary who had made the suggestion, and another, walked to the console.
A servo-arm descended onto the chamber bathed in moonlight. With a soft suction, a section of the host's left shoulder, along with a tuft of fluff, was drawn up and slid into a separate, cleansed chamber.
Simultaneously, a spheroid, about two meters in diameter and covered in thick, hair-like leaves, was injected into another chamber.
The chamber spun rapidly. The barbed thorns, as if stimulated, exploded, sending countless needles flying against the chamber's walls, splashing droplets.
The droplets collected at the bottom and were channeled through tubes into the chamber containing the host's flesh.
Drip, drip, drip!
The chemical sap produced by the barbed thorn dripped onto the host's shoulder. The fluff quickly turned black and drifted down.
"Success!" the "Potions Professor" who had made the suggestion exclaimed excitedly.
"No!" Mikael cut him off.
"This would exterminate them. My Lord's command is to acquire them."
"Indeed," Ramsey said. He met the Chief Apothecary's gaze, reading the same thought in each other's obsidian eyes:
The Emperor's command means nothing; the Black Emperor's divine will must be fulfilled.
The Apothecary who had spoken, along with the other "Potions Professors," looked at their Chapter Master, at a face that was a perfect mirror of their gene-father's.
He, too, pulled back from the fleeting joy of success, thinking how to fulfill their father's command.
Suggestion after suggestion was proposed: Catachan millipede paralytic toxin, Nuceria-anesthetic... After one failure after another, only the host's legs remained.
The "Scarlet Scholar" Mikael spoke. "Since the Bone Drinkers are unique and a single agent won't work, we'll use a compound formula."
"Millipeder venom, Nucerian anesthetic... at a 3.3 to 1.1 ratio..."
The "Potions Professors" understood immediately and began preparing the solutions in the specified proportions.
Over a dozen solutions, dark green, beige, grey, were injected into a single chamber.
The chamber pumped and spun, round and round.
When it finally stopped, the mixed solution was black.
A section of the host's right calf was amputated and moved to another chamber.
Drip! Drip! Drip!
The black solution dripped. The trembling spore clusters suddenly stopped. The tufts of fluff sagged.
"Success! The Magos's suggestion worked."
"All praise to my Lord!" Mikael said, his voice devout. He prayed silently.
'Praise my Lord!'
Ramsey, frowning slightly, asked, "We have a capture agent, but will we need to use humans as bait?"
"My Lord would not want to see so many sacrificed."
"Not at all," the "Scarlet Scholar" Mikael said. "We can use Attilan Ovigors, laced with the capture agent."
"Any Bone Drinker within five hundred kilometers will come rushing, like wild dogs smelling bone."
"Excellent." Ramsey smiled. Having witnessed the entire research process, he had complete confidence in their abilities, which far surpassed those of other Legions' Apothecaries and the Mechanicum's Biologis.
....
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