The medical bay of the Fist of Iron.
Apart from the white-painted outer walls, this place was almost no different from the other cabins of the Fist of Iron.
But this still could not hide the cold, iron-like atmosphere.
The medical cogitator array that covered the entire wall of the room made a ticking sound.
The Apothecaries of the Iron Hands were more like mechanics than doctors. They operated the machines extending from the iron beds, and complemented the servitors that ran back and forth in the room.
As a legion that preferred steel bionic limbs to flesh and blood, even in the medical bay, the smell of engine oil was still stronger than that of disinfectant.
The Chapter Master of the 413th Expeditionary Fleet, Ulan Cicero, was currently lying on one of the iron beds.
There should definitely not be the sound of metal welding in a medical bay.
He thought, looking up at the ceiling.
In the Great Crusade, the Imperium had a large number of expeditionary fleets to conquer new territories, and it was clear that not every expeditionary fleet could have a Primarch at its helm.
The 413th Expeditionary Fleet was one of them. As a small expeditionary fleet, they were composed of Astartes from the Ultramarines as the backbone of the expedition, supplemented by an emissary group of Thousand Sons Librarians, the Imperial Army, and a Titan Maniple of the Mechanicum.
Most expeditionary fleets were like this, with a certain Astartes legion as the core, and then a hodgepodge of foreign aid from other legions and military forces from various factions of the Imperium.
With such strength, it was no problem to take down some small xenos or pocket empires.
Until they encountered a tough nut like the Gardinerian Empire.
"Cicero, how are you?"
The familiar call of the Thousand Sons Librarian, Amal, came to his ears.
"Still alive," Cicero said with a weak smile, and he looked at the two people following behind Amal. "...And who are these two?"
"The commander of the Emperor's Children, Kasjia Sherlock, and the Second Company Captain, Arcur Tona."
"Speaking of which, if it weren't for these two insisting on a search and rescue, you would very likely have been turned to dust under the artillery fire of Lady Ferris."
"In that case, I must, on behalf of the surviving Ultramarines, express my gratitude and respect to you—"
He struggled to get up, but the iron-grey "treatment" machine attached to his body fastened him back to the bed.
"You know? This bunch of machine-heads even asked me if I wanted to have my hands replaced with mechanical ones like them," Cicero said in a low voice, glancing at the departing Apothecary.
"By the way, Commander Kasjia."
"Tallying it all up, how's our fleet's situation?"
"Very bad."
Kasjia expressed his condolences.
Nearly a thousand Astartes had died in battle, and a third of them had not even had their gene-seed recovered.
The Imperial Army, under the nuclear weapon strike, was even more decimated, and the few who were lucky enough to survive were suffering from extremely severe radiation sickness.
It could be said that after this one battle, the ground forces of the 413th Expeditionary Fleet were almost completely wiped out.
"My fault..."
Cicero, who seemed to have long anticipated this situation, closed his eyes in pain.
"Then how's the war situation now?"
"Next time we fight, I will definitely avenge my brothers."
"It's already over, Cicero," the Thousand Sons Librarian, Amal's, tone was very optimistic. "Soon, on this very warship, we will be accepting the surrender of the Gardinerian lords!"
After visiting the Ultramarines Chapter Master Cicero, the three of them walked side by side in the lifeless ship cabin corridor of the Fist of Iron, heading to The Forge, that is, the Iron Hands' conference room, to accept the surrender of the Gardinerians.
"Wait a minute, friend."
Kasjia called out to the cheerful-looking Thousand Sons Librarian in front.
"Hm?"
"Do you really believe the Gardinerians are here to surrender?"
"...Huh? Yes, of course. What else?"
"Under the absolute artillery fire of Lady Ferris, this bunch of frogs in a well must have been scared out of their wits, and would never dare to provoke the authority of the Primarch and the Imperium again."
Amal was a little baffled by Kasjia's question.
How should I put it? There was a sense of clear-eyed foolishness.
Kasjia had originally thought that a soul from the past like himself was foolish enough.
He hadn't expected to meet a master in the Thousand Sons.
It could only be said that he was very much like his gene-father.
"You saw the rulers of Gardiner during the earlier negotiations, didn't you, Amal?"
"Why did you two break down in the end, and what impression did they leave on you?"
"I still remember that during the negotiations, they all behaved very rationally," Amal said, resting his chin on his hand, lost in thought. "It seemed they were trying their best to avoid the outbreak of war."
"But in the end, war broke out, didn't it? Even though in your eyes they were all peace-loving."
"My friend, I don't know why either."
"Amal, Amal, don't you understand their feigned compliance?"
Gardiner had the well-preserved industrial facilities from the Dark Age of Technology that the Imperium coveted.
Therefore, in the negotiations, the emissary group represented by Amal had tried to be cautious to avoid the outbreak of war.
"But unfortunately, your caution was interpreted by them as weakness. And from then on, they thought they had an opportunity."
"So it's my fault..." Amal's expression was sad as he lowered his head.
"Of course not."
"To be precise, this battle was bound to happen."
"If they could give up power so easily, the High Lord of Gardiner would not have chosen to stir up a storm in the first place."
What truly caused the war was the arrogance and desire for power of the vested interests.
These two things, wrapped around all the Gardinerians, rushed towards destruction with their madness.
And this was exactly what Kasjia had said when he had persuaded Ferris.
"So, bombing the civilian areas is actually meaningless."
For them, from the very beginning, human lives were just bargaining chips to be exchanged for power.
Killing these civilians would have no effect on this world.
"So, this is why Ferris gave up the ground bombardment and accepted the other side's surrender?"
"You're really something, Commander Kasjia. Perhaps your talents are also suited to be a scholar and an orator."
"After the Great Crusade is over, if you are willing, you can come to our Prospero. I will personally introduce you," Amal said with a smile.
"At that time, you must come and taste the wine from my private vineyard. I am confident that it can be compared to the fine wine of your Emperor's Children."
Sigh, Prospero.
Next time for sure.
"Although Ferris did indeed hold back, the crisis is far from over."
The broadcast of the High Lord of Gardiner's ceasefire was being played on all the planets in the system, and the Gardinerians in various parts of the system also chose to cease fire after receiving the news.
After all, not many people were willing to go head-to-head with a fully mechanized legion like the Iron Hands.
Inside and outside the system, there were a large number of symbolic acts of submission happening at the same time.
Peace would soon come to Gardiner.
Almost everyone was hoping so.
But Kasjia did not think so.
"Just as they were not really negotiating with you before, likewise, this time they are most likely not here to really surrender," Kasjia said, and lightly patted Amal's huge pauldron.
"Go back and put on your power armor. Get ready for a fight, brother."
The industrial-style metal corridor, at this moment, came to an end.
Outside The Forge.
In front of the huge conference hall door at the bow of the Fist of Iron, countless Iron Hands Space Marines were waiting outside the door.
As the face of the Iron Hands, their main purpose in being arranged in front was to let these overconfident Gardinerians see what kind of terrifying existence they were up against.
There were three people who came to represent Gardiner in the negotiations.
At the very front was a decaying old man. He was stooped and his posture was old. Judging by the various spots and wrinkles on his face, he seemed to have lived far longer than he should have.
As the High Lord of Gardiner, he represented the entire Gardinerian Empire.
Following behind him was a middle-aged man who had undergone a large amount of biological modification. He was also thin, and there were some tubes flowing with biomass inserted in the back of his head and various parts of his body.
And a young attendant with no distinguishing features.
A strange combination.
The three of them passed through the outer armed guard of several thousand Iron Hands, and felt the machine-like, cold and killing aura of the Iron Hands.
The Gardinerians also valued military parades.
They would line up their own land-based machinery, tanks, and elite soldiers in a parade, to be reviewed by the High Lord, the ruler of Gardiner.
But such a large and neat army of supermen was something they had never even dreamed of.
Not only that, at the back of the line stood several hundred cobalt-blue giants. They seemed to be the opponents they had encountered in the first battle.
Immediately after was a squad of purple-and-gold armored giants, draped in exquisite silk.
The purple-and-gold and blue giants, compared to the previous iron-grey steel giants, seemed more like humans than machines.
But they were still war machines.
This was the first impression the Astartes had left on the Gardinerians.
Efficient, powerful, and ruthless.
And as they walked deeper, an iron-grey giant in front of the huge, black-iron-carved door met them.
"Gabriel Santar, First Captain of the Iron Hands."
He had taken off his helmet and was introducing himself.
This was also the first time they had been able to see the appearance of these giants—his appearance was as uneven as an asteroid, and the right hand that was holding the helmet seemed to have been completely replaced by a bionic machine.
His bright eyes scanned the three of them, and Santar continued to speak, "Next, I will be your guard and will lead you to the forge where the Primarch is."
As he spoke, he stretched out his hand and stopped the young attendant.
Santar remembered Kasjia's earlier warning.
The First Captain seemed to have heard from Arcur that this commander of the Emperor's Children had a powerful ability of foresight.
He could even tell him the details of what was about to happen.
But Santar was still a little skeptical.
"You stay outside. Attendants are not allowed inside."
Santar stopped the attendant.
Seeing this, the two diplomats from Gardiner were stunned, as if they had not expected this move.
The Gorgon of Medusa, Ferris Manus, sat high on the iron throne.
She was waiting here, to hear the surrender plan from the Gardinerians.
At this moment, beside her, there were two guards in the most advanced Terminator armor, guarding her side.
Originally, she had not intended to give the Gardinerians another chance.
[You should not have shown them mercy.]
[Mercy will only be seen as weakness.]
But to show her governance and diplomatic skills to the War Council on Terra, and also because of Kasjia's advice, Ferris Manus had rarely shown them her mercy.
However, Kasjia had also advised that this group of people would not be so docile.
"If you insist, you and Amal can stay."
Ferris showed a casual attitude towards Kasjia's warning.
An assassin?
So what if it's an assassin?
She was very confident in herself.
As one of the Emperor's children, she never thought that she would be inferior to others in any aspect.
If the Gardinerians were really stupid enough to think that they could harm a Primarch with an assassination attempt...
...then let this entire planet be buried with their foolishness.
Clank, clank.
The door from the forge opened, and the two Gardinerian emissaries slowly stepped into this large, steel palace made of countless metals.
And waiting for them in the hall, apart from the Primarch Ferris and her two Terminator personal guards, was also the scarlet sorcerer from the negotiations with the Gardinerians, the Thousand Sons Librarian, Amal.
And a silent, purple-and-gold giant.
The Gardinerians did not know his origin, nor did they know why he was here.
But it had to be said that the bright red helmet on his purple-and-gold armor was indeed very eye-catching.
"High Lord Sicarus," the old man bent down slightly and introduced himself.
"Sorcerer, I know of your psionics," Amal was particularly wary of the other middle-aged man. "I will be watching you, friend. Don't even think of using your sorcery here."
When entering the Fist of Iron, they had all undergone extremely strict security checks to ensure that they would not harm their Primarch on the ship.
But regardless of whether they were carrying weapons or not, the attack methods of a psyker were far more diverse than imagined.
And as a Librarian of the Thousand Sons, Amal would be watching them at all times.
The middle-aged man from Gardiner did not answer.
"Enough."
Ferris impatiently stopped Amal's threat.
"I, Ferris Manus, Primarch of the Tenth Legion, the Iron Hands, am here to await your surrender."
"If it weren't for the guarantee of the commander of my sister legion, your planet would have been burned to the ground, and your civilization would no longer exist."
One after another, obscure High Gothic words were thrown from her mouth.
She was waiting for a reply from the Gardinerians.
"No."
And the High Lord of Gardiner's reply was also very concise.
The pistons on his shoulder rotated at high speed, and the launch bay on his body opened fire.
-------
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