Chapter 261: The Visitor from the Imperial Fists
The frigate's engines increased output power. The massive hull slowly adjusted its direction, then carved a trail through the void, entering the designated Warp lane and heading toward the Forge World Nexum.
Warp travel was never absolutely safe.
Even on recognized stable routes, the fabric of reality was relatively thin, filled with energy turbulence and psychic whispers unexplainable by conventional physical laws.
The Gellar Field of the frigate carrying Joric endured continuous pressure during the voyage. The steady hum of the field generator was the only background noise inside the ship.
Outside the hull lay twisted, shifting unreal vistas. Colors and forms defied common sense. Occasionally, massive, blurry shadows slid close to the edge of the energy field, triggering brief alerts from the sensor arrays.
Experiencing Warp travel for the first time was an indescribably strange experience for the members of Maine's squad, Valerie, Jackie, and David.
There was no violent shaking or obvious physiological discomfort, yet their senses felt scrambled by invisible hands—their sense of direction became blurry, faint whispers echoed in their ears, and the view outside the portholes was twisted and distorted, as if reality itself was being kneaded by some force.
"Damn, this is dizzier than hitting bad BDs..." Jackie cursed in a low voice, rubbing his temples. "Everything's blurry in front of my eyes, and my ears are buzzing."
Valerie leaned against the bulkhead, closing her eyes to adjust her breathing.
"It's not a physical problem," she said softly. "It's sensory interference. Like... like something is trying to drill into your brain."
She had been a corporate agent and undergone mental stress training, yet at this moment, she had to concentrate her will to resist this invisible erosion.
Maine and Dorio sat leaning against each other. Neither spoke, but their metal joints occasionally clicked due to unconscious bodily tension.
"It's not seasickness," Maine finally spoke, his voice deep. "It's space itself twisting. You gotta steady your mind, don't get carried away by it."
David's face was pale, cold sweat seeping from his forehead.
"I feel... like I'm falling endlessly, but also not..." He was somewhat incoherent. Lucy reached out and gently pressed the back of his hand, whispering, "Don't stare outside. Focus. Listen to my breathing."
Rebecca, on the other hand, was clinging to the porthole, eyes wide, even though there was only a sealed metal grille in front of her.
"Woah... this is flashier than Night City's neon lights!" She turned to shout at Pilar, "Look at that blob, doesn't it look like moving paint?"
Pilar didn't reply, just silently adjusting his cyber-eye parameters, trying to find patterns in the chaotic light and shadow. Kiwi remained silent throughout, focused on maintaining her electronic barriers, as if insulating against some invisible signal interference.
Mower had experienced such a journey once and had a deeper level of modification, so her condition was relatively stable.
She sat quietly in the corner, like a frozen statue.
Despite their senses being plagued, no one lost control.
They all knew clearly that on Joric's ship, any loss of composure could be seen as weak will.
Most of the time, they stayed in their assigned cabins or moved quietly within permitted areas, trying hard to adapt to this journey beyond common sense.
Joric barely left his exclusive cabin during the voyage.
His data interface was directly connected to the ship's systems, continuously monitoring navigation parameters and Warp fluctuations, while allocating some threads to process data packets transmitted from Nexum.
Ignis guarded outside at all times, sensors fully open, maintaining maximum alert.
The seven-standard-day voyage ended amidst the continuous roar of the Warp engines.
With a violent spatial tremor, the frigate successfully exited the Warp, re-anchoring in the material universe.
Forge World Nexum gradually revealed the outline of its massive industrial planet.
The planetary surface was covered with gigantic manufactorums, refineries, and energy arrays. Countless thick smokestacks spewed thick smoke and heat waves into the gray sky, shrouding the entire planet in an eternal industrial twilight.
A towering orbital ring, like a steel python, encircled the planet, densely packed with shipyards, starports, and defense platforms.
Following navigation signals, the frigate slowly approached a completed section of the ring.
A massive starport extension dock guided the frigate into its designated berth.
The docking process was smooth and precise. Accompanied by the hiss of air pressure equalization, the ship completed a hard connection with the starport.
The hatch opened, and Joric's tall, dark red figure appeared at the entrance of the connecting passage.
Behind him stood a solemn Ignis, followed by a squad of strictly selected, well-equipped Secutarii Hoplites.
Maine's squad, Valerie, Jackie, David, Lucy, and Mower followed closely behind, stepping into the interior of the starport.
The spatial scale inside the starport far exceeded convention. The vaulted ceiling soared high enough to ensure even the most massive war titan could pass smoothly without stooping.
The air was saturated with several iconic smells: the scorching scent of high-temperature metal welding, the heavy greasiness of specialized lubricants, and the pungent ozone produced by high-voltage arcs.
Thick energy conduits and dense data cables covered the walls and ceiling, emitting low hums and the hiss of energy flow.
Tech-Priests in deep red or dark brown robes, crew members of various ranks, and maintenance Servitors shuttled orderly through the passages. Their degrees of modification varied, but all followed a strict hierarchical order.
Just as Joric's group stepped onto the starport deck, his optical lenses keenly captured a ship of a distinctly different style docked at a neighboring berth.
It was a Strike Cruiser with rigid lines and sharp angles, painted in the iconic yellow livery of the Imperial Fists Legion.
Its massive hull, heavy armor, and conspicuous weapon arrays all proclaimed the majesty and power of the Imperium's most elite Space Marine Legion.
Etched on the hull were the Imperial Aquila and the emblem of the VII Legion, gleaming with a cold, hard luster under the starport lighting.
Joric's synthesized voice rang out steadily, instructing Ignis to query the docking information and visitor identity of that Imperial Fists Strike Cruiser.
Ignis immediately accessed the starport's internal system. Moments later, she turned to Joric, reporting in her unique voice tinged with slight mechanical resonance: "Lord Sage, confirmed via starport scheduling system. The ship identification code corresponds to the Strike Cruiser 'Unyielding Will,' belonging to the VII Legion, 'Imperial Fists'.
"The visitor is First Captain Sigismund. He represents Primarch Rogal Dorn and is here to conduct formal consultations with Fabricator Locum Volks regarding equipment supply for the newly formed Chapters following the Legion's split."
Ignis reported to Joric, her tone lacking reverence for the Primarch.
This was not strange for the Mechanicus, let alone merely mentioning a Primarch's name.
For Joric, however, the name Sigismund left a deeper impression than even Rogal Dorn.
(End of Chapter)