Chapter 208: Restraint, Communication, Consensus
"In recent times, we have intervened in the administrative affairs of the Ultramar Sector, both to provide support for the coming reconstruction and to investigate and address certain issues."
The flat voice of Administratum Representative Hamathelion echoed before the Macragge Hero's Monument. The towering memorial was engraved with the names of countless Ultramarines, its surface gleaming with a cold metallic lustre under the star's light. A gentle breeze carried the sound of shouts from a distant training ground, but it could not dispel the slightly stiff atmosphere between the two men.
"However, after completing our investigation, we have found that the Primarch's wisdom is more than sufficient to handle all manner of difficult affairs. The functions of the investigation team have been completely superseded, and in fact, performed better—"
Hamathelion paused, then turned to the Chapter Master, whose face was still slightly pale and who relied on his armour's internal life-support systems to remain active.
"But according to Lord Romulus's own words, they will eventually depart. Terra, however, hopes that the wisdom of the four Primarchs can radiate to more regions."
"Therefore, I wish to recommend Lord Romulus to act as regent for the affairs of the Greater Ultramar Sector. I wonder if you would be interested?"
Marneus Calgar's brow furrowed imperceptibly. If his influence actually reached Terra, you wouldn't be so pleased.
"..."
Calgar took a deep breath. The pump-chambers in his chest whirred and clicked. Since the battle that had nearly claimed his life, both of his hearts had been destroyed. The Ultramarines' Apothecaries had urgently cultured replacement organs, barely keeping him alive. When Archmagos Cawl had come to inspect him, he had been furious at these temporary measures, unceremoniously rebuking their 'unorthodox' methods.
Now, the Ultramarines' Apothecaries had been seconded to the Dawnbreakers for systematic training. Until they returned, Calgar had to rely on his life-support equipment, enduring the mechanical stiffness with every breath.
The Primaris Space Marine augmentation... the thought was never far from his mind. The war with the Tyranids had made him realize that the Ultramarines, and indeed the entire Imperium, were facing an unprecedented threat. But whether it was to uphold the sanctity of the Codex Astartes or to placate the conservative faction within the Chapter, which had grown almost religious in its fervor, reform before Lord Guilliman's awakening was proving to be extremely difficult.
Not long ago, after bidding farewell to the Crusade Fleet, Calgar had proposed at a Chapter Council the formation of the "Tyrannic War Veterans," an elite unit dedicated to studying and combating the Tyranids to prepare for a larger invasion in the future. However, his proposal had been immediately drowned out by the voices of the conservatives.
Therefore, the widespread implementation of an augmentation that could reliably improve the combat effectiveness of the Astartes was imperative. The Apothecaries of almost every Chapter were secretly conducting research on such augmentations, but most of the experiments were somewhat heretical in nature and not suitable for open discussion.
But the Primaris augmentation... Calgar had reviewed the entire protocol and knew its value. Two enhanced biological organs, and a mechanical implant to coordinate the previous twenty-one. This system not only comprehensively improved a warrior's physiological functions but, more importantly, every step of the augmentation was based on rigorous scientific principles, not the heretical tinkering of some chapters.
The Black Templars and other Chapters had already fully adopted it, with significant results. With these precedents, the resistance within his own Chapter should be much smaller. For this reason, Calgar's own organ repair surgery had been postponed again and again. He had to be the first among the Ultramarines to undergo the augmentation, to lead by example and dispel the doubts of the conservatives.
Fortunately, the new Mark X power armour was far superior to previous models. Even though his body had not fully recovered, the armour's enhancement systems could compensate for his weakness. But being unable to remove his armour for long periods was still deeply uncomfortable. It had been a long time since he had been able to set foot in the hot springs of Macragge.
"My Lord?" Hamathelion asked politely, noticing Calgar seemed distracted.
"My apologies, Lord Hamathelion. I have no interest in such a matter," Calgar said, returning to the present. After a moment's thought, he refused the representative's proposal.
He certainly hoped Lord Romulus would stay. Aside from certain secretive cousins, no Chapter would refuse the presence of a Primarch. But Ultramar was, in the end, Roboute Guilliman's domain, the soil in which the Thirteenth Legion's bloodline was rooted. Romulus could control and reform the sector through certain measures, but if he were to be tied down in a place that already had a master, he would undoubtedly be constrained by all manner of rules and regulations. And between him and Ultramar, there would always be Guilliman.
Putting himself in the other's shoes, Calgar believed this was completely unacceptable for an ambitious statesman. As Hamathelion had said, the wisdom of a Primarch far surpassed that of mortals, and even that of Astartes. In that case, what right did he, Calgar, have to make a decision for Romulus?
"May I know the reason?" Hamathelion's voice held a hint of inquiry.
"The Gene-Primarch of the Ultramarines still exists in this world, my Lord," Calgar said, raising a hand and pointing to the mag-lev vehicles parked by the roadside. The streamlined, government-issue taxis were neatly lined up, bearing the sigil of the Ultramar Administratum. "You need only spend thirteen Thrones on a government-provided taxi to go to the Fortress of Hera and behold his glory. You don't even need a ticket."
Guilliman's existence was not just a symbol; it was the cornerstone of Ultramar's law and order. Even though he now slumbered, his will still flowed through this realm, engraved on every monument, every decree, every warrior's gene-seed. Ultramar had always been, and would always be, a land with a master.
"I see..." Hamathelion mused for a moment. He had spoken with many Chapters during this time, including the Black Templars and the Nemesis Chapter. The results had not been ideal. The zealots of the Black Templars were indifferent; they had already left a crusade fleet behind and would not leave until the Primarchs drove them away. The Nemesis Chapter was even planning to move to Ultramar and choose a new homeworld, because they fundamentally believed the Ultramarines were unreliable. And the Blood Angels were too obedient; they had to ask Karna about everything.
"My Lord," one of Hamathelion's aides whispered. "The next meeting is in thirteen minutes."
Hamathelion was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "Decline it. No, I will go and apologize in person."
"?" The officials from the other departments accompanying him exchanged a confused look. One of them even frowned.
Hamathelion noticed their reaction. He glanced at Calgar, then explained calmly, "After the First Founding Chapters and their Second Founding successors have refused, there is nothing more to be said. You are all men of vision. The Astartes are an extension of the Primarchs' will. Their status will inevitably rise in the future. And we all know the sordid state of affairs in the various sectors. Do you think they can do better than a Primarch?"
The Administratum's thinking was, in fact, very clear. One: The laws of the Imperium have been proven perfect over ten thousand years. Any attempt to change them is a betrayal of the Emperor himself. Two: Pay your taxes. Beyond that, everything else was a matter of convenience. If an attempt failed, so be it. It was not enough to risk offending a Primarch by pushing the issue.
The changes the Primarchs had brought were positive. Even the conservatives could not deny that. So it was even more important to handle the situation with care. Some things could be done, and some things could not. Only in this way would the Primarchs not become alienated from the Imperium. Although Hamathelion did not know what the Primarchs intended to do by strengthening the Imperium's command and control and military strength, since they had no intention of marching on Terra to seize power, the High Lords had no need to act like startled cats and treat every issue as a threat.
Politics is the art of compromise.
"Look at Huron. Now look at the four Primarchs. Which do you think we should trust more?" In the end, between two powerful and influential figures, the existence of the Dawnbreakers was much more reassuring to the High Lords. Loyal, restrained, willing to pay taxes, highly capable, and able to both fight and govern. They were a high-spec combination of a Lord Solar Macharius and a hero like Malcador. To treat such a being as an enemy before they had even made a move on Terra? The resulting conflict would not be something that could be resolved with political wrangling.
"Until the power of the Throneworld is truly threatened, we have no reason to refuse the friendship of the Primarchs. We will not create an enemy for ourselves for no reason. Do you understand my meaning?" His gaze swept over the accompanying officials. The bureaucrats who had looked confused just a moment before now bowed their heads in silent obedience.
Hamathelion finally turned to Calgar and offered a nobleman's bow. "Thank you for your response, Chapter Master Calgar." Without any further pleasantries, the representative of the Administratum turned and left. His entourage immediately followed, their synchronized footsteps fading into the distance.
Calgar stood there, watching them board a shuttle parked nearby. The roar of its engines soon tore through the quiet sky of Macragge. The monument was quiet again, only the eternal wind whispering over the metal surface engraved with countless heroic names.
Calgar looked up at the statue of Guilliman, the Primarch's heroic form, power sword in hand, gleaming in the sun. He then lowered his gaze from the statue to the silent figure standing before the monument. The black and red power armour had a dark lustre in the sunlight, like clotted blood and night. The knight had been standing there the whole time, as if he were a part of the monument itself.
"It seems he has passed the test?" Calgar asked.
"Those who have not passed the test do not get to stand before us," Arthur replied, turning his head slightly.
Beside Arthur, the seemingly ordinary Ultramar civil servant still maintained a respectful posture, but Calgar knew that was just the perfect disguise of a Callidus Assassin. It was perfectly normal for the Terran delegation to have members of the Officio Assassinorum mixed in. In fact, there was more than one. After all, an investigation team always needed special means to deal with special problems. And similarly, the Terran authorities needed to ensure that the investigation team itself did not become a new problem. This delicate balance of power was the very foundation upon which the Imperium had run for ten thousand years.
The Officio Assassinorum already had a separate channel of communication with the Dawnbreakers. Under Aglaia's witness, the two sides had already reached a general consensus on a series of plans. This meeting was, to put it bluntly, for the purpose of reaching a consensus. Neither side was looking for a fight. Anyone who wanted to cause trouble was not worthy of even coming before them and polluting their eyes.
Then, Arthur handed Calgar a stasis-casket containing a set of gene-seed. "My apologies. Due to my... status, I do not believe I can prepare a sufficiently solemn ceremony for him."
This was the final legacy of the Ultramarines Apothecary who had fought eight-to-one until Arthur's reinforcements arrived. Arthur had not forgotten to return the gene-seed he had left behind.
The breeze swept across the plaza, carrying a few fallen leaves that swirled between the two men.
Now, only he remained.
"Your presence itself makes our deeds shine brightly," Calgar said, accepting the casket with reverence. "Severus did not shame his surname. And I will ensure that the Ultramarines will select the finest warrior to carry on this glorious history."
Gage. The surname could be traced back to the founding of the Ultramarines Legion, to Marius Gage, Lord of the Legion. He was second in power in Ultramar only to Guilliman, and also the first Chapter Master of the Ultramarines. As a Terran-born member, Marius had left no descendants on Macragge, but that did not stop the people of Ultramar from changing their own surnames in admiration of his deeds. Such a culture was perfectly normal for the people of Ultramar. After all, even Calgar's own surname was that of a dear friend who had died during the Astartes trials. Despite the exaggerated legends, the truth was much simpler. Calgar was not, as rumour had it, of serf-stock, and that part of his past was not nearly as dramatic as the stories claimed.
"Every warrior who fights for humanity is worthy of respect," Arthur said, his gaze once again turning to the towering monument.
Calgar stood at attention, his eyes inadvertently glancing at the several ceremonial longswords displayed at the base of the monument. These hand-forged weapons were meticulously crafted, their dazzling beauty revealed only when the sun struck them just so, a testament to their understated elegance. This Primarch was a mystery. He would either be in the shadows, watching over the touring students, or, after confirming Macragge was safe, would spend the rest of his time here, silently gazing at the monument.
"After the talks with the Administratum are concluded, there will be a representative meeting of the Astartes," he said.
"Mm," Calgar nodded, then asked, "Lord Romulus?"
"I am responsible for military affairs. My duties run parallel to Romulus's," Arthur replied.
A flicker of understanding crossed Calgar's eyes. This one is the Warmaster.
"Understood!"
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