Chapter 223: Nostalgia for the Past
"Krik is hiding something. He disappeared from Martian records for over a century. He didn't even react when another Magos usurped his manufactorum," Archmagos Cawl stated during an internal meeting of the Dawnbreakers. "This planet is important to him."
Contrary to Fabricator-General Krik's expectations, the Dawnlight Fleet did not rush to send its troops to win glory. Instead, they restrained themselves and held a discussion. Their goal was to establish a channel of communication with the human forces on the surface and to understand the planet's situation.
And Krik had not recognized the Mechanicus fleet accompanying the Dawnlight. Cawl was a low-key individual. Although he despised the extravagant and complex decorations of the current era, he had still made adaptive modifications to his own fleet, perfectly matching the mainstream appearance of the Imperial Navy. His Ark Mechanicus, meanwhile, was simply parked at Macragge, alongside the Honour of Macragge, guarded by a clone-body.
Although he had been traveling with the Primarchs recently, he was a man who disliked trouble and did not want his colleagues to know what he was up to. He usually shuttled back and forth between the Dawnlight and the Silent Vow, participating in various research projects as a consultant.
"What are the human forces on the surface like? Are they Imperial?" Karna asked.
"No. An Imperial force would not have such a difficult time adapting to this extreme environment," Romulus shook his head. Although the level of civilization and technology varied greatly among Imperial worlds, the baseline infrastructure technology was generally consistent. The Imperium's infrastructure tech was esoteric; inherited from the Age of Expansion, it was robust, and fortunately, untainted by Chaos. It could even ignore the violent activity of tectonic plates and forcibly construct human colonies on lava flows.
Aside from a few extreme death worlds, like Catachan or Fenris—places so inhospitable they hardly seemed like planets—there were few environments that could escape humanity's conquest. If this were an Imperial force, they would not be using mobile cities to chase fertile plains. They would use structures that reached deep into the planet's crust to anchor the entire continental plate.
The Imperium never had to worry about its raw power. If necessary, a single planet could not stand against a Fabricator-General of the Adeptus Mechanicus. So this Fabricator-General's actions were highly questionable. This planet was important, so important that he himself had wasted nearly a century here. And the small size of his Mechanicus force indicated that he did not want anyone, not even his own people, to know too much about this planet's secrets.
So who had sent the distress signal?
He looked up at the report Drakus had handed him and smiled meaningfully. "There are a lot of volunteers for this fight."
The representatives of the Ecclesiarchy, including the Black Templars, and the various Imperial armed forces of the current era, were all eager to go down and slaughter the heretics.
Led by the Dark Angels, Carcharodons Chapter Master Tyberos and Ultramarines Sergeant Titus established a beachhead on the surface. The mechanized forces did not deploy immediately, but waited in their Stormbirds for new orders. This was only a temporary staging area. Due to the planet's violent environmental shifts, they could not stay in one place for long.
"WAAAGH!"
Just as the Fabricator-General had said, no sooner had they landed than Tyberos and his men were met with a warm welcome from the Orks. The roar was like a signal. A writhing green tide suddenly rose on the horizon. The tactical display in Titus's helmet was instantly flooded with red dots. He instinctively tightened his grip on the hilt of his power sword.
The roar of guns and explosions was ceaseless. Atop a moving Gargant, a sea of Orks bellowed at the newly landed force. They were eager for a fight. The dense formation of Stormbirds still circled high above, but not a single one opened its bay doors.
The fortifications of the temporary base were being assembled by the tech-teams, the adamantium plates clanging together. The figures of the Ultramarines were phantoms in the dust storm as they silently established interlocking fields of fire.
When the silhouette of a Gargant emerged from the dust storm, a thin layer of frost formed on Tyberos's respirator. The howling sand then immediately blasted the frost from his faceplate. The rusted steel behemoth spewed black smoke, the roar of its grinding gears drowning out even the sound of the Stormbirds' engines.
Suddenly, the shriek of an orbital strike tore through the sky. The first Gargant was turned into a shower of scrap metal in a blinding white light. But this did not deter the Orks' attack. The Carcharodons' heavy weapons teams had just set up their melta-cannons on a high point when more towering war engines emerged from the dust storm. The Orks on this planet were strong. Even large war engines like Gargants were common.
"Elder," Titus said, looking back at the giant mobile city, now just a silhouette in the distance, "why do we not first capture one of the mobile cities?" The planet's environment was too hostile. Their temporary base would have to be abandoned within twenty-four Terran hours. And the Dark Angels were always willing to answer his questions, as long as he used the proper form of address.
"Lord Romulus has ordered us to first communicate, then decide," Zahariel replied in a low voice.
Sometimes, he didn't understand the fanatical attitude of these younger generations. They were too eager, as if they had already confirmed the other party were xenos-lovers and were ready to annihilate them. It was one thing to not negotiate with xenos, but what was the meaning of not negotiating with a branch of humanity?
During the Great Crusade, the Interex had initially collected Chaos artifacts, but it hadn't led to a fight. After communicating, they had learned that the Interex was collecting the artifacts to prevent Chaos contamination. Although the negotiations had eventually failed and a major battle had been fought after the artifacts were stolen, it was still proof that the Imperium of Man did not just attack every human branch on sight.
The Imperium had a million worlds. The Great Crusade had only lasted two hundred years. There were many branches of humanity with their own strange ways. If they had to fight every single one, the crusade would never have ended. Zahariel also thought it was unnecessary. It was just the word of a Magos. There was no need to start a fight on sight. It was better to get the full story first.
And— he looked up at the dense formation of Gargants in the distance, and the fully-armed Ork troops, who were not wearing a random assortment of scrap metal. These Orks were on par with the warbands of the Great Crusade era. Without support from space, Zahariel wasn't even sure they could handle these Orks. To be able to push the Orks to this extent, one could only imagine how powerful the surface-dwelling humans were.
"The Firewing has made contact," Arthur said, raising a hand after Romulus had paused the agenda. The hololithic image in the center of the hall switched to a battlefield recording: a squad of the Wardens of Steel was in a standoff with several silver-grey figures in the wilderness. The figures were clad in silver combat suits, their silhouettes clearly human. Their gauss weapons were at the ready, but they had not fired.
"The other party has shown no hostile intent," Arthur continued, "and after making contact with the Wardens of Steel squad in the wilderness, they have expressed a desire to negotiate. I believe we can negotiate."
Arthur had no intention of fighting. Even if they could win, there was no need to be a pawn for Fabricator-General Krik. The Magos had told the truth, but he had also hidden a great deal. What they needed now was a full debrief.
"Alright, then. Let's have a vote," Romulus nodded and looked around. "All those who refuse to communicate, please raise your hand."
Swoosh! The representatives of the Ecclesiarchy and the various Imperial departments all raised their hands. At the same time, they noticed that the Primarchs and all the Chapter representatives, except for the Black Templars, remained motionless, a look of surprise on their faces. The lords had never shown a moment's hesitation in annihilating xenos before. And they should not lose the initiative. Who knew how cunning these xenos were?
"Please lower your hands," Drakus said at the opportune moment.
The representatives, confused, lowered their hands.
"All those in favour of communication, please raise your hand."
Swoosh! Swoosh! The four Dawnbreakers, Cawl, and the many 30k-era veteran representatives all raised their hands. A good thing Ramesses and Master Arthur saved a bunch of old-timers.
"Very good. The majority rules," Romulus said with a smile, signaling for everyone to be at ease. "Drakus, you will be in charge of organizing a delegation and preparing for the communication.
"Yes, my Lord."
"Arthur, you will command the troops. Take Ramesses with you. Prioritize dealing with the Orks in the plains."
"Acknowledged."
"Karna, you will accompany the delegation and be in charge of the communication."
"No problem."
"Everyone else," Romulus said, looking around the hall, "return to your posts and await orders."
I have a mouth, I can speak. I have eyes, I can see for myself. I have ears, I can listen. And I have a brain, I can think calmly. You want to cause trouble for me? You think I am like an extremist, reactive beast that will bare its fangs and bite at the slightest difference in my own kind? I will not give you the satisfaction.
"Yes, my Lord!" everyone replied, and then left, a hint of confusion in their eyes.
The crowd quickly dispersed. When the last figure had disappeared down the corridor, only Romulus and Archmagos Cawl remained in the hall.
Romulus looked up and met Cawl's gaze. In the mechanical eyes, he saw a deep nostalgia.
Yes, war had certainly happened. Necessary, violent conquest had certainly existed. No one would deny it. History had recorded it all. However, for every world or civilization that had resisted and refused their offer of friendship, for every xenos race that had attacked human civilization, there were countless worlds that had cheered at the sight of the Expeditionary Fleets appearing in their skies.
Although the Expeditionary Fleets had set out from Terra with armies and guns, their journey was not for the purpose of destruction. It was to find the "lost" branches of humanity, to rebuild the human civilization that had been destroyed by the Age of Strife and the Old Night.
This period, which would later be known as the 'Great Crusade,' was, for the most part—not actually that bloody.
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