While the Second Legion was hunting delicacies on the Fourth planet of the Wheel of Fire, the Seventh Chapter of the Eleventh Legion arrived at the Catachan system in the Segmentum Ultima.
Sánchez ordered the fleet to conduct a full-scale Auger array sweep of Catachan.
The Auspex Officer, clutching a data slate, reported to the Reaper Lord:
"My lord, scans indicate that 90.47% of Catachan's surface is covered in dense jungle. It is a death world."
Sánchez gazed at the hololithic projection, an emerald sphere like a flawless jewel.
"The densest life signals appear here, seven in total," the officer said, highlighting pale spots across the green globe. "They correspond to plains terrain, likely settlements of the natives."
"How is Catachan's defense?" Sánchez asked.
"My lord, no orbital defense platforms. No ground defense signals either."
The Reaper Lord nodded slightly, then turned to his Chief Apothecary, Mikael.
"The archives of Father note the Catachans can be brought into compliance. I will lead my honor guard to their settlement and speak with their leaders."
Mikael inclined his head. "It is a sound course."
Thus, Sánchez, his honor guard, and a Lexicanum boarded a Stormbird and descended toward the strongest life-sign cluster.
Through the viewing port, Sánchez saw the endless jungle rushing beneath them, an ocean of green stretching to the horizon. The canopy was a solid carpet, mist rising from the sea of leaves. Ancient trees clawed skyward, branches interlocked like a fortress wall.
His gaze grew sharp, he could feel it. The forest itself seemed to hunger.
When the Stormbird reached the landing site, he confirmed no defensive emplacements below and ordered:
"Land."
The honor guard deployed. At his flank, Mesut a Mystery Pryer activated his Eye of Mystery Prying, surveying their surroundings.
"This area has been cleared by fire," he observed, "but vines and lichens grow everywhere. The toxins in these plants corrode stone, and the vines collapse structures."
Sánchez nodded. "Father's records spoke true: the flora destroys settlements, and the fauna hunts in packs, striking human dwellings. The world itself may be a greater foe than its people."
Soon, the natives appeared, tall, broad, muscled like predators. They wore little more than camouflaged vests, their bronze skin painted with natural dyes. Most bore wooden spears, some clutched crude firearms.
Sánchez felt the danger radiating from them. Hunters, every one, no less deadly than the warriors of Jorin.
"Father was right," he murmured. "They are born hunters." Then to his Lexicanum: "Speak with them."
The psyker adjusted the translator, cycling through tongues until the seventeenth aligned with the natives' language.
"People of Catachan, we are not your enemies. We come from Terra, the cradle of mankind. We are your kin."
The message repeated until the tribesmen slowed, listening.
Sánchez removed his wolf-faced helm and stepped forward. "As the broadcast says, we are your brethren. I am of the Shadows of Order, sent by Primarch Nareth to find our lost kindred."
At last, a tattooed giant came forth. "Shadows of Order," he boomed, "we are indeed mankind's kin. Waging war across the galaxy cannot be harsher than surviving this world. We proudly answer your call. I, Lucas, pledge loyalty to Primarch Nareth."
Sánchez removed a gauntlet and extended his hand.
Lucas didn't understand what he said but guessed what he meant from his movements. He held a gun in one hand and stretched out his fist at the black-clad warrior.
Sanchez understood, clenched his right hand, and bumped into Lucas, forearm to forearm.
The Reaper Lord and his warriors followed Lucas back to his tribe.
There Sánchez saw that every man, woman, and child bore arms, even children staggered under the weight of knives or pistols.
'Truly, as Father said, an army in flesh. Even the young are dangerous.'
Lucas announced loudly to his people: "They are our kin, the Shadows of Order. I have sworn fealty to their lord!"
"Prepare food and treat our compatriots."
After listening to Mesut's translation, Sanchez called the track with a communicator.
"Send food and drinks."
From orbit, delicacies were delivered: iron-scaled kraken steaks, seafood from Symphony of the Sea. The Catachans brought their own fare, steamed swamp-duck, cobra stew, and great skewers of black-backed vipers.
Lucas marveled at kraken meat, shocked to hear the beasts grew kilometers long.
The Catachan's opened their mouths wide and swallowed delicious seafood.
The Shadows of Order did not touch the food made of various poisonous snakes, only ate Catachan teals, at least these strange ducks with sharp teeth looked more palatable.
After eating more than a dozen Kraken cutlets in a row, Lucas found that the black-clad warriors had not touched the poisonous snake.
Lucas noticed and urged Sánchez: "Lord, the snakes are our true delicacy."
Understanding the value of custom, Sánchez smiled. "Eat, brothers. Even if your stomachs and livers fail, the Apothecaries' serums will cleanse the venom."
Reluctantly, they tasted.
Mesut, after twelve black-backed vipers, felt his superhuman body waver, fever, chills, cold sweat. He discreetly injected a vial of antidote before regaining composure.
'Catachan's poisonous snake is indeed dangerous, even Astarte's superhuman body can be poisoned.'
Every Astartes at the feast required at least one serum injection before the night ended.
Yet the Catachans were satisfied.
After winning the support of the Catachans, Sanchez returned to pray to the Black Emperor.
With Catachan secured, the Seventh Chapter of the Shadows of Order began full deployment across the death world. The Chief Apothecary led expeditions deep into the lethal jungle.
.....
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