When Gaius rushed into the armory at top speed, it was already a scene of tense and orderly pre-battle activity.
The air was thick with the smell of machine oil, the hum of power capacitors charging, and the unique sounds of servo systems activating.
Tech-Priests, accompanied by their servitors, moved between various patterns of Power Armour racks and maintenance stations, using bionic arms to perform final equipment checks on the warriors, reciting binary prayers.
Most striking were the Terminator squads, already fully armed, in the central area of the armory.
They stood like dark blue steel fortresses, their heavy ceramite and plasteel composite armor reflecting a cold gleam under the lights.
The white trim on their shoulder pads, marking them as First Company veterans, and various honorifics silently spoke of their extensive combat experience.
Heavy footsteps echoed on the floor, like the beating of war drums.
Dorian's massive physique was particularly noticeable.
He stood on a specially designed support frame, as Tech-Priests busily assembled the components of his Ironclad Pattern Terminator armor onto him.
His Saturnine Terminator armor had been severely damaged in the last mission and was still undergoing repairs.
"Faster! Even faster!" Dorian's voice, amplified by his helmet's vox-caster, carried an impatient urgency.
His massive hand already gripped the custom-made, terrifyingly large assault cannon, while his other hand held a Thunder Hammer shimmering with dangerous energy arcs—a weapon capable of smashing a main battle tank, yet he wielded it like a toy.
A heavy Storm Shield was magnetically locked to his back.
Seeing Gaius rush in, Dorian's crimson ocular lenses flickered, and he immediately bellowed at an idle Tech-Priest nearby: "You! Go help Sergeant Karl equip his Power Armour! Quickly!"
Without hesitation, the Tech-Priest, accompanied by two servo-skulls, turned to Gaius.
Gaius swiftly moved to his Power Armour rack.
This exquisitely crafted Mark X Power Armour was meticulously maintained, its blue plates gleaming like new, with the white First Company trim on the shoulder pads and his Sergeant's insignia clearly visible.
With the efficient assistance of the Tech-Priest, Gaius donned his armor with the practiced ease of a thousand previous times.
Leg plates locked, torso armor sealed, the power backpack hissed as it connected to its interface, and finally, the iconic helmet with its "pig snout" respirator grille, adorned with a laurel wreath of honor and a multi-functional bionic eye, was secured.
The moment the helmet's ocular lenses glowed an ethereal blue, fully linking with the Power Armour system, Gaius felt his senses instantly expand.
A torrent of data about the surrounding world flooded his mind, only to be swiftly processed and filtered, leaving only the most crucial combat information.
He reached for his "Hawk-eye" sniper rifle, leaning against the weapon rack, checked its magazine and scope, and magnetically attached it to his back.
Then, he gripped the hilt of his "steadfast will" Power Sword.
The familiar feel and subtle energy pulse eradicated the last trace of extraneous thought from his mind, leaving only the absolute calm of a warrior.
His "Airas" Pattern Power Fist on his left arm also emitted a faint, ready glow.
"Are you done? Hurry up!" Dorian was already fully armed, his massive Ironclad Pattern Terminator body nearly blocking half the corridor, impatiently urging the Tech-Priest who had just finished assisting Gaius and was now performing a final check on Luna.
Luna's Tech-Sergeant Power Armour was also fully donned.
She was rapidly connecting various sensing instruments, multi-functional tool arms, and a twin-linked plasma cannon to their designated interfaces.
Her movements were precise and efficient, without any wasted motion.
"Ready," Luna's calm voice emanated from beneath her helmet.
"Go!" Dorian roared, taking heavy strides, like a moving steel fortress, charging first towards the hangar.
Gaius and Luna followed closely, their figures merging into the blue torrent of other Ultramarines heading to the rendezvous point.
On the bridge, the atmosphere had plummeted to freezing point.
On the main screen, the face of Grand Inquisitor Hermann Voss of the Ordo Xenos, contorted with rage, was filled with fanaticism and paranoia.
Chapter Master Marius Calgar stood before the command console, his posture as straight as a pine, his expression as cold as ice, yet still attempting a final effort to avert the tragedy of kin slaying kin.
"Grand Inquisitor Voss!" Calgar's voice, transmitted through the comms channel, carried suppressed fury and a last vestige of reason, "I reiterate! Sheltering Eldar refugees is a matter of humanitarian concern and a special arrangement in the context of combating the Tyranids threat!
All of this has been detailed in reports submitted to the High Lords of Terra and Primarch Guilliman! This is by no means an act of betrayal, but a pragmatic measure in the face of the galaxy's real threats!"
He attempted to steer the Grand Inquisitor's thoughts towards a broader perspective: "Please consider calmly! Such a precise interception at the warp jump point, could it not be a meticulously designed conspiracy by the Chaos Gods, or other enemies seeking to weaken the Imperium's strength?
Their goal is to incite internal strife within the Imperium, to make us fight amongst ourselves! We must not fall into such a clumsy trap!"
Simultaneously, he secretly instructed the comms officer to attempt to establish a priority communication link with Primarch Guilliman.
If they could contact the Primarch, Primarch Guilliman's prestige and grasp of the larger picture might enable him to halt this conflict in time.
However, Grand Inquisitor Voss scoffed at Calgar's explanation.
He waved his withered arm, his fanatical eyes devoid of any rational light: "Evidence? Conspiracy? Calgar, put away your high-sounding excuses!
The Inquisition already possesses irrefutable evidence! You not only harbored xenos, but also attempted to conceal their existence! This is a complete betrayal of the Emperor and the purity of humanity!"
"I'm giving you one last chance, Calgar!" Voss issued his ultimatum, his voice shrill and piercing, "Disarm immediately and surrender! Otherwise, I swear in the Emperor's name, the purifying fire of the Inquisition will immediately descend upon you traitors!"
Calgar's heart sank.
He knew that words could no longer persuade this Inquisitor, whose eyes were blinded by fanatical faith.
He glanced at the comms officer, who shook his head helplessly, indicating that superluminal communications with Terra were experiencing severe interference and a stable connection could not be established in a short time.
Clearly, the Inquisition had come prepared, cutting off his avenue for external mediation.
"Chapter Master! Multiple enemy warships' weapon arrays are showing rapidly increasing energy signatures! They might be about to fire!" The sensor operator shouted a warning.
Calgar's face was ashen.
Up to this point, he still did not wish for a full-scale conflict with Imperial forces, especially units like the Inquisition and the Grey Knights.
That would mean civil war, a massive internal drain on Imperial strength, a situation no farsighted leader wished to see.
He suppressed the urge to order a counterattack, attempting one last delay.
However, his silence and restraint, in the eyes of Grand Inquisitor Voss, were interpreted as weakness and guilt.
"Stubborn fools!" Voss lost his last shred of patience.
His old face, flushed with excitement and cruelty, suddenly waved his hand, issuing an order to his fleet: "Fire! For the Emperor! Purify these traitors!"
The next moment, disaster struck.
The Inquisition fleet, already poised for attack, and those Imperial Navy warships, instantly spewed forth deadly fire!
The roar of macro-cannons, the blinding flashes of lance arrays, the thick smoke gushing from torpedo tubes... countless destructive energy beams and solid projectiles rained down like a furious storm upon the Ultramarines fleet, which, in its attempt to avoid conflict, had not immediately activated its strongest void shields!
"Boom!!!!"
The colossal hull of the Macragge's Honour violently shook, as if struck by an invisible, colossal hammer!
The piercing screech of twisting metal, the roar of explosions, and structural damage alarms instantly filled the entire bridge!
A massive ball of fire and thick smoke erupted from an area on the warship's broadside—a secondary ammunition depot in the mid-section of the warship had detonated!
"Report damage!" Calgar steadied himself, his voice like ice, but the fury within it was like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
"C-7 sector ammunition depot detonated! Internal structure severely damaged, fire spreading! Tech-Priests and damage control teams are already en route to deal with it!" Captain Lilith reported urgently, her voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor.
This glorious flagship had not endured such direct and violent attacks in too long.
Other frigates and transport ships were also hit, and while their damage was not as severe as the flagship's, their formation was disrupted, appearing quite disheveled.
"All warships, immediately activate maximum power void shields! Transport ships, supply ships, small frigates, immediately close ranks with battle barges and Strike Cruisers, seek shelter!" Calgar no longer hesitated, immediately issuing defensive orders, but his directives still showed restraint: "Without my direct order, no unit shall return fire!
Repeat, no return fire!"
He still held a glimmer of hope that the enemy, seeing the Ultramarines' restraint, might realize their mistake and cease their attack.
As the order was given, the surviving Ultramarines warships illuminated with ethereal blue energy barriers.
Their void shield generators operated at full power, deflecting subsequent incoming artillery fire, sending ripples of energy waves through the vacuum of space.
Calgar re-established communication with Voss, his voice hoarse from suppressed rage: "Voss! Stop your attack! You are provoking civil war!
Cease fire immediately! Otherwise, I will consider this a formal declaration of war against the Ultramarines Chapter!
Such consequences will benefit neither of us, nor the entire Imperium!"
However, his response was only a more ferocious barrage from the Inquisition fleet.
Blinding lance beams slammed into the Macragge's Honour's void shield, erupting in dazzling flashes, and the shield's energy readings plummeted rapidly.
Grand Inquisitor Voss watched the Ultramarines fleet, still passively taking hits on the screen, a more fanatical and contemptuous smile spreading across his face.
In his view, their patience was a sign of guilt and cowardice.
"Surrender, Calgar! Look at your pathetic state!" Voss's voice was full of mockery, "Before the true wrath of the Emperor, your pitiful resistance is meaningless!
If you do not disarm now, I will call upon our Grey Knights brothers to intervene!
They will board your ships and utterly purge your xenos-tainted souls!"
He seemed to feel this was not enough, and even directed his insults at the being revered by all Ultramarines:
"As for Guilliman? Hmph! Just an old relic awakened from ten millennia of slumber! What does he know of the current galaxy? Nothing more than a regent who only favors his own sons, better at maintaining the status quo than at innovation!
If he were here, I would question him directly on how he manages his Chapters!
Today, I shall, on behalf of the Emperor, cleanse you traitors who have defiled the glory of the Astartes!"
"Silence!!"
This utterly ignited the long-suppressed, volcanic fury in Calgar's heart!
He could endure his flagship being attacked, he could endure his Chapter being slandered, but he would never tolerate anyone so desecrating their Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, whom they regarded as father and guide!
Calgar slammed his Power Fist onto the armrest of the command console, the sturdy metal instantly deforming!
His eyes blazed, his normally steady and dignified face now filled with the furious rage of a lion!
"While we Ultramarines fought bloody battles across the galaxy for the Emperor and humanity, purging true traitors and xenos threats, you, you fool, who only hides behind the lines playing power games and inciting infighting, were probably still playing in the mud!" Calgar's roar was like thunder, reverberating throughout the bridge, and even reaching Voss through the not-yet-fully-interrupted comms channel, "You dare insult Primarch Guilliman?! You are seeking your own demise!"
Patience had reached its limit.
Reason, at the moment the Primarch was desecrated, was utterly consumed by wrath.
Since retreat only brought further insults and attacks, then only battle could defend the honor of the Ultramarines and the dignity of their Primarch!
Calgar no longer hesitated.
He straightened his body, like an emperor about to deliver a final judgment, and issued a thunderous command to the entire fleet:
"All units, attention! The Inquisition has acted faithlessly, attacked allies, and desecrated the Primarch; their actions are no different from those of traitors!"
"I order! First wave boarding parties, deploy immediately!"
"Target—enemy flagship and main combat vessels!"
"For Ultramar! For Guilliman! Crush them!"
"For Ultramar! For Guilliman!" The entire bridge, and indeed the entire Ultramarines fleet, instantly erupted in a mighty, echoing war cry!
The next moment, the Ultramarines, who had been waiting in hangars and launch tubes for a long time, responded to their Chapter Master's command with action!
The broadsides of the Macragge's Honour and various Strike Cruisers opened up like a beehive with countless launch ports.
Boarding torpedoes, like giant steel spikes, jetted fiery plumes from their sterns, streaking like arrows from a bow, fearlessly launching towards the nearest Inquisition warships!
Simultaneously, a large number of thunderhawk gunships and Stormraven Gunships swarmed out of the hangars, like a protective hive, escorting the deadly torpedoes, launching a desperate charge towards the enemy fleet!
War was inevitable. The loyal fury would be unleashed upon these kinsmen who incited civil war, in the most direct and brutal way.
The boarding torpedoes, like deadly steel spikes, carrying the ignited loyal fury of the Ultramarines, fiercely pierced the armored hull of the Inquisition's flagship, the purifying fire. The violent crash and the shriek of tearing metal became the opening act of this internal slaughter.
The torpedo bay doors burst open under hydraulic pressure, and the blue giants, who had been waiting in ambush, surged out like a broken dam. Five Terminator squads from the First Company, like five red-hot daggers, instantly plunged into the internal passages of the purifying fire.
"For Ultramar! For Primarch Guilliman!" Deafening war cries echoed through the narrow metal corridors, intertwining with the roar of Bolters and the snarl of chainswords.
The resistance they encountered was fierce, but futile. The Inquisition's Stormtroopers, clad in their characteristic black armor, relied on makeshift cover, stubbornly resisting with their melta guns and plasma weapons. Sisters of Battle, in Power Armor with fanatical eyes, also shouted the Emperor's name, unleashing a destructive hail of Bolter fire and flamers.
"Heretics and traitors! Receive the Emperor's purification!" screamed the Sisters of Battle.
"You fools who incited civil war are the ones betraying the Imperium!" the Ultramarines' Terminators roared back with even louder voices. Their Storm Shields steadily blocked incoming fire, while their Assault Cannons and Storm Bolters mercilessly tore apart the black-clad figures and their cover.
Both sides shouted "traitors" at each other, as beliefs clashed violently in the bloody corridors. The only medium of communication was scorching metal and destructive energy.
The heavy Terminator armor demonstrated unparalleled advantages in this close-quarters boarding action. They were like mobile fortresses, raising their massive Storm Shields to the front, clearing a path for their brothers behind them. Following close behind, the Breacher squads from the Third Company and Fourth Company, unrestrainedly poured devastating firepower from their Heavy Bolters, plasma cannons, and melta guns onto any Inquisition forces daring to show their heads. Explosions flashed continuously deep in the corridors, limbs and shattered armor flew everywhere. The Inquisition's resistance seemed so pale and weak in front of the battle-hardened Astartes veterans, its intensity even less than some troublesome space pirates.
The assault torpedo carrying Sanx accurately hit a pre-designated weak point, directly crashing into a large supply distribution area of the purifying fire.
"Boom—!"
The hatch blew open, and Dorian's massive Ironclad Pattern Terminator figure was the first to charge out, like a beast unleashed.
"Kill these scumbags!" Dorian's roar, amplified by his vox-caster, made the entire compartment hum. He held his door-like Storm Shield in his left hand, deflecting sporadic laser beams, while the terrifying Assault Cannon in his right hand spat a long tongue of flame, pulverizing a group of Stormtroopers gathering in the distance, along with their stacked supply crates, into a shower of fragments and blood mist.
Sergeant Karl followed closely, his movements swift and precise. Instead of charging wildly like Dorian, he ghosted to a high vantage point, his "Eagle Eye" sniper rifle steadily propped up. His helmet, fitted with an electronic bionic eye, quickly scanned the battlefield, searching for valuable targets.
"Bang!" A low, deadly shot. A Sister of Battle in the distance, who had just shouldered a multi-melta, instantly lost her helmet and half a shoulder. Her headless corpse swayed, then fell heavily.
"Bang!" Another shot. A Stormtrooper officer attempting to operate an auto-turret had a massive hole blown through his chest.
Sergeant Karl was like a calm harbinger of death, efficiently and silently neutralizing any heavy weapon positions that could threaten the assault team. Under his cover, Dorian and Luna led the other warriors in a steady advance. The sporadic resistance of the Inquisition crumbled before them like paper.
Luna, meanwhile, focused on the technical aspects. She used her multi-functional tool-arm to hack into nearby hatch locks, opening new routes for the team, while precisely targeting enemies attempting to flank them with her twin-linked plasma cannon. Her combat style, like her personality, was calm, efficient, and devoid of any superfluous emotion.
At the same time, the Sword Master squad, personally led by Captain Cassius, acted like a precise surgical knife, bypassing most of the engagement zones and taking a relatively concealed path directly to the heart of the purifying fire—the bridge.
Their advance was incredibly swift; any Inquisition guards daring to obstruct them were quickly cut down by the perfect coordination of the Sword Masters' master-crafted Power Swords and Storm Shields. Captain Cassius himself was unstoppable; each swing of his battle-honed swords invariably brought forth a spray of blood and shattered armor plates.
With almost no significant resistance, Captain Cassius, with his elite Sword Masters, kicked open the heavy door to the bridge.
The scene inside the bridge came into view. Most of the operators huddled in terror behind control consoles, trembling. In the center of the bridge, Grand Inquisitor Hermann Voss, who had been so arrogant on the comms screen earlier, now had a face ashen white, his eyes filled with incredulous fear and panic. He clearly had not expected the Ultramarines' reaction to be so decisive and fierce, nor had he anticipated that the First Company Terminators would reach him so quickly!
"You... how dare you..." Voss stammered, pointing a trembling finger at Captain Cassius, his voice distorted by fear, "This is a declaration of war against the Inquisition! It's a betrayal of the Emperor!"
Captain Cassius ignored his nonsense, his gaze coldly sweeping across the bridge, confirming there was no large-scale ambush. However, just as he was about to order everyone to be brought under control, a powerful and cold psychic ripple, like a tide, spread from the shadowed corner of the bridge.
Six tall figures slowly emerged from the previously empty shadows. They were clad in silver-grey Terminator armor, inscribed with intricate demon-warding runes—these were "Aegis-pattern" Terminators. Their helmet visors glowed with cold blue light, and a faint psychic aura surrounded them, exuding a suffocating pressure. Grey Knights!
The leading Grey Knight stepped forward, his voice, processed by his helmet, was archaic and emotionless, as if reciting an established law:
"Captain Cassius. Immediately order your forces to cease attack, lay down your weapons, and submit to scrutiny. Otherwise, by the authority of the Inquisition, we shall execute 'kill on sight' protocols against your... potential degenerates."
His words carried a condescending, judgmental tone, as if he had unilaterally declared the Ultramarines' guilt.
Captain Cassius faced the formidable pressure of the six Grey Knights without a trace of fear, instead revealing a hint of a mocking sneer. He did not respond to the Grey Knight's threat, but instead raised a hand to his helmet's vox-caster and, with a clear and cold tone, transmitted a precise set of coordinates.
The Grey Knights seemed to realize something, and a barely perceptible disturbance appeared in their psychic emanations.
Dozens of seconds later, just as the tense standoff was almost solidifying into a tangible presence—
"Boom!!! Boom!!! Boom!!!"
Three deafening roars came almost simultaneously from different directions of the bridge! The thick bridge armor plating was violently torn open in three massive holes. Amidst the swirling smoke and dust, three Ultramarines assault torpedoes, like rampaging beasts, fiercely wedged themselves into the bridge's interior!
The torpedo bay doors burst open, and out stepped not ordinary tactical squads, but a uniform array of heavy firepower Terminators, clad in "Indomitus-pattern" Terminator armor! They wielded Assault Cannons, Heavy Plasma Incinerators, miniature Volcano Cannons... these terrifying weapons, capable of vaporizing an entire army in an instant, now had their dark muzzles and barrels aimed directly at the six Grey Knights and the trembling Inquisition crew on the bridge!
The air on the entire bridge seemed to solidify. More than a dozen Indomitus Terminators stood in silence, like dormant volcanoes about to erupt. They needed no roars, no threats; their cold muzzles and the glowing energy within them were the most lethal language. With just one command from Captain Cassius, they could instantly reduce this bridge, and everyone in it, to cosmic dust!
Captain Cassius slowly turned his gaze back to the leading Grey Knight. He raised the Power Sword in his hand, its tip pointing at his opponent, his voice as dark as Nostramo's eternal night:
"Now, I offer you two choices."
"First, immediately take your people and return to your grey warship. This farce, which should never have happened, might still be brought to an end."
"Second..."
His words paused, and the more than a dozen Indomitus Terminators seemed to receive a silent command. The energy charging sounds of all their weapons instantly became sharper and more piercing, like the whisper of death.
"...Kill on sight."
Four cold words, carrying an undeniable finality, struck heavily into the heart of every Grey Knight.
The leading Grey Knight's archaic voice finally showed a hint of fluctuation, with an incredulous question: "Captain Cassius! You... are you truly intent on betraying the Imperium? And becoming an enemy of the Inquisition and the Grey Knights?!"
However, before he could finish his sentence—
"Sss—Boom!!!"
An intensely scorching plasma torrent, like an enraged dragon, roared out from a Heavy Plasma Incinerator mounted on the shoulder of an Indomitus Terminator, directly aimed at the Grey Knight who had spoken!
The attack came too suddenly, too swiftly!
The Grey Knight didn't even have time to complete a full evasive maneuver, only subconsciously boosting his psychic power to the extreme. A thick, translucent psychic shield instantly materialized before him!
"Hum—!!"
The plasma stream violently impacted the psychic shield, erupting in blinding light and a deafening energy shriek! The terrifying heat even warped the surrounding air, and the surfaces of some nearby control consoles instantly melted!
Although the psychic shield barely withstood the deadly blow, the immense impact still sent the Grey Knight reeling backward. A faint scorch mark even appeared on his silver-grey armor. The psychic aura around him flickered violently a few times; clearly, that strike had not been easy for him.
Had he not been constantly maintaining his psychic shield, it was likely that in that very instant, he and his companions behind him would have been completely vaporized!
This shot completely broke the stalemate and demonstrated the Ultramarines' attitude—less talk, either get out or die!
Just as the Grey Knights, enraged and astonished by the sudden attack, their psychic emanations fluctuating violently, seemed ready to fight to the death—
"Thud!!!!"
A colossal crash, heavier and more violent than all the previous assault torpedo impacts, came from the direction of the bridge's main observation window! Immediately after, under the horrified gazes of everyone, the reinforced glass window, capable of withstanding warship secondary battery fire, and the composite armor behind it, were violently smashed open, creating a massive breach as if made of paper!
A figure so massive it was suffocating, accompanied by a shower of flying metal fragments and glass shards, crashed into the bridge like a meteor!
It was an Ultramarines Dreadnought! Painted in deep blue and glorious white, its left shoulder plate bore the prominent First Company insignia and countless rings of battle honors, while its right shoulder plate featured a clenched, iron Power Fist relief, stained with the marks of age—this was the First Company's legendary Dreadnought, the fist of macragge!
"Who is it?! Who dares to attack our flagship! Who dares to insult Primarch Guilliman!!!"
The fist of macragge's Assault Cannon and twin-linked Heavy Flamers were already preheated, emitting a teeth-grinding hum. Its massive Power Fist was clenched, as if ready to smash everything non-human in its sight into pulp at any moment! Its sensor-eyes, scanning the entire bridge, finally locked onto the six Grey Knights and the collapsed Grand Inquisitor Voss, the fury within them almost materializing and erupting.
"Traitors! Receive the wrath of Ultramar! Tear them all apart!!!" The Dreadnought let out an enraged roar. Had Captain Cassius not raised a hand to signal him to stop, he would likely have charged forward and begun the slaughter.
With the arrival of the legendary Dreadnought, the fist of macragge, the balance of power on the bridge shifted overwhelmingly. No matter how powerful the Grey Knights were, facing an enraged ancient Dreadnought, plus more than a dozen heavy firepower Terminators, as well as Captain Cassius and his elite Sword Masters, they had absolutely no chance of victory.
A cold killing intent, like tangible ice, completely froze the bridge of the purifying fire. The Grey Knights' choice seemed to be reduced to just one.
Grand Inquisitor Hermann Voss slumped to the ground, watching helplessly as the Dreadnought, like a giant of steel, crashed into the bridge. Listening to its ancient roar of fury, the last shred of hope in him was utterly shattered, replaced by a hysterical madness and despair.
He struggled to lift his head, his gaunt, old face twisted by extreme fear and malice. With the last remnants of his strength, he stretched out a trembling finger, pointing at Cassius, at the Dreadnought, and at the phantom image of Primarch Guilliman seemingly present in the void, uttering the most venomous and foolish curse of his life:
"You… you dogs of Primarch Guilliman! You are all traitors in disguise, just like him! You are cancers to the Emperor and the Imperium of Man! You…"
"Whump—BOOM!!!"
His words were cut short.
The twin-linked heavy flamers of the fist of macragge, already primed, instantly spewed forth intensely hot, viscous flames like a dragon's breath! These were no ordinary chemical flames, but a destructive torrent of energy mixed with promethium and special catalysts, whose temperature was enough to instantly vaporize the hardest alloys!
Grand Inquisitor Voss's shrill curse was drowned out by the deafening roar of the flamethrower. His entire being, along with the robe symbolizing the Inquisition's authority, was completely consumed and vaporized by the terrifying heat in less than a second, leaving not even a speck of ash, as if he had never existed in this world.
Only the indescribable smell of char that instantly permeated the air, and a small patch of rapidly cooling, slightly reddish metal scorch on the floor, proved that a thorough purification had just taken place here.
A deathly silence fell over the bridge. The already trembling Inquisition crew members were now scared out of their wits, not daring to breathe, fearing that they would be the next to be vaporized. Even the six Grey Knights, their psychic fluctuations visibly stagnated; clearly, the Ultramarines' ruthless, even cruel, method of execution had deeply shocked them.
Captain Cassius watched the spot where Voss had vanished with an impassive face, as if he had merely crushed a noisy insect. He slowly turned his head, his cold gaze, piercing through his helmet's optical lenses, once again fixed on the six Grey Knights.
"Now," Cassius's voice broke the silence, carrying an undeniable authority, "you have seen the consequences of provoking the Ultramarines and insulting Primarch Guilliman."
He raised his hand, pointing to the large hole in the bridge, torn open by the Dreadnought, and beyond it, the deep starry sky and the hovering grey warship.
"The fist of macragge, and my Terminators, will 'escort' you back to your own warship immediately." He emphasized the word "escort," the threat within it unmistakable. "This is your last chance. If you wish to follow in his footsteps, feel free to try."
The massive body of the fist of macragge subtly adjusted its direction, the muzzles of its assault cannon and heavy flamer vaguely pointing at the Grey Knights. Though no words were spoken, the silent pressure was more threatening than any roar. The dozen or so Indomitus Terminator warriors around them also advanced a step, the energy charging sound of their heavy weapons becoming sharp once more.
The leading Grey Knight looked at the scorched mark on the ground, then at the menacing Dreadnought and Terminators. His stern voice finally carried a hint of suppressed anger and an… indescribable frustration:
"Captain Cassius, your actions today will be recorded! The Inquisition and the Grey Knights will not let this matter rest!"
"That is a matter for later," Cassius responded coldly. "Now, choose. To leave with dignity, or to remain here forever, like that fool?"
The Grey Knights were silent for a moment. While powerful, they were not mindless fanatics. In the face of an absolute disparity in strength and the opponent's ruthless attitude, forced resistance would be suicide, and utterly meaningless.
Finally, the leading Grey Knight slowly, and with extreme reluctance, made a gesture. The five Grey Knights behind him also reined in their psychic energy and disengaged from combat.
"We… will depart," he gritted out the words.
"A wise choice," Cassius waved his hand.
Immediately, several Terminators stepped forward, in a "polite" but utterly unrefusable manner, "accompanying" the six Grey Knights towards the breach in the bridge. The fist of macragge also moved its massive body, like a giant beast escorting prisoners, following closely behind to ensure they truly boarded the transport back to their own warship.
On the bridge of the Macragge's Honour, Chapter Master Marius Calgar calmly observed the development of the entire situation through monitors across the battlefield and real-time combat reports from various units.
The battle began suddenly and ended swiftly. Under the elite boarding assault of the Ultramarines, the Inquisition fleet and Imperial Navy, deprived of unified command, were almost unable to organize effective resistance. In less than half an hour, most of the Inquisition's main warships, including the flagship purifying fire, had been taken over by the Ultramarines. Key areas were occupied, resistance was quickly cleared, and control of the warships was being seized one by one.
Commendably, the Ultramarines strictly followed the Chapter Master's orders, and after controlling the situation, did not engage in wanton slaughter. For those Inquisition crew members and Imperial Navy personnel who ceased resistance, they were merely gathered and confined, their lives unharmed. This indicated that, at least in Calgar's and most Ultramarines' minds, this was still a forced internal conflict, not an extermination war against Imperial compatriots; there was still room for reconciliation and resolution.
However, this did not mean that Calgar would be soft-hearted. Upon receiving news from the purifying fire's bridge that Voss had been purified by the Dreadnought and the Grey Knights "escorted" out, Calgar knew it was time to define this brief conflict.
He turned to the communications officer, his face as stern as ancient ice, his voice steady and filled with undeniable authority:
"Broadcast a system-wide message to all Inquisition and Imperial Navy vessels still resisting or observing."
"This is the Macragge's Honour. I am Marius Calgar. I declare in the name of the Ultramarines Chapter Master:"
"The Ordo Xenos's actions have been confirmed to be incited by the whispers of Chaos Gods, aiming to stir up internal strife within the Imperium and weaken humanity's strength. Grand Inquisitor Hermann Voss and his core faction have fallen, beyond redemption!"
"The Ultramarines, upholding their sacred duty to eliminate all enemies of the Emperor, must take decisive measures to eradicate these sources of corruption lurking within the Imperium!"
"All deceived Imperial Navy personnel, please cease your futile resistance immediately. The Ultramarines guarantee your safety!"
"As for Lord Primarch Guilliman…" Calgar paused, a fierce glint in his eyes. "I will personally explain all the circumstances to him! Any who dare to insult the Primarch are our mortal enemies, and we wish to tear them limb from limb with our own hands!"
His words, transmitted through powerful communication arrays, instantly spread throughout the entire combat zone. This declaration directly branded the Ordo Xenos's actions as "Chaos corruption," providing a "just" reason for the Ultramarines' counterattack, while also giving the Imperial Navy a way to save face.
The effect of the broadcast was immediate. Some Imperial Navy warships that had been stubbornly resisting quickly lost their will to fight after hearing Calgar's declaration. They were not die-hard loyalists of the Inquisition, merely following orders. Now that their supreme commander was identified as corrupted by Chaos, and the opposing side promised safety, continuing the fight was meaningless.
Soon, the last sporadic gunshots ceased completely. The entire star system, apart from a few areas with small fires and damage control teams busy, returned to silence. Yet, this silence was permeated with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and an indescribable awkwardness and heaviness.
Calgar looked at the gradually controlled battlefield on the main screen and issued another order:
"Inform the Grey Knights' warship and all Imperial Navy vessels: the Chaos plot has been thwarted, and the fallen have been purged. You are no longer needed here. Return immediately to your true posts, to confront the Imperium's real enemies—xenos, heretics, and Chaos!"
"As for the Inquisition's warships…" Calgar's voice carried a hint of coldness. "Given their corruption and the damage they inflicted upon the Ultramarines, all captured warships are to be confiscated and become the property of my Ultramarines Chapter, to compensate for losses and prevent their further misuse by lawbreakers!"
This order was both an ultimatum and an expulsion for the Grey Knights and Imperial Navy, and at the same time, it unceremoniously appropriated the "legacy" left by the Inquisition. This was both a display of strength and a punishment for the Inquisition.
On the bridge of another Inquisition cruiser, the "Blade of Piety," which had been boarded and controlled, the battle had long since ended. The blue figures of the Ultramarines held all critical points, while disarmed Inquisition Stormtroopers and crew members were dejectedly gathered and confined in a corner.
Dorian's massive Ironclad Pattern Terminator body strutted menacingly before a group of confined Sisters of Battle. He lightly tapped the rosary-adorned helmet of one Sister of Battle with the barrel of his assault cannon, making a "clang, clang" sound, his tone full of mockery and derision:
"Oh, oh, weren't you shouting quite fiercely just now? 'For the Emperor! Purge the Heretic!' Hmm?" Dorian mimicked the Sister of Battle's fanatical tone, exaggeratedly twisting his body. "Why aren't you shouting now? Cat got your tongue? Ha ha ha ha ha!"
The Sister of Battle whose helmet was being tapped glared, but in the face of the absolute disparity in strength and the menacing Ultramarines surrounding them, she could only bite her lip tightly, suppressing tears of humiliation.
Dorian became even more smug. He patted his thick chest plate, making a dull thud: "Look! Look! Your little pistols, your bolter rounds, they're like an itch on me! Ahhh… comfortable! Want to try again?"
His obnoxious demeanor made several nearby Ultramarines involuntarily turn their heads, their shoulders subtly shaking, clearly trying to suppress their laughter. This fellow truly took advantage and then gloated, as if he wanted to stir up trouble.
Kael stood by a control console nearby, assisting Luna with initial system scans. He watched Dorian's "performance" and couldn't help but feel a sense of exasperation and a headache. Didn't this guy fear provoking these Sisters of Battle into another outburst, or that this incident, if it got out, would bring more trouble to the Chapter? Although the Sisters of Battle's previous attacks were indeed hateful, humiliating prisoners like this was ultimately not the act of a gentleman.
Luna, meanwhile, completely ignored Dorian's antics. She focused intently on operating the console, using Tech-Sergeant privileges to attempt to establish a secure connection with the Macragge's Honour's main computer for initial data transfer and warship status assessment. For her, the most important task at hand was to quickly complete the control and conversion of this captured warship, integrating it into the Ultramarines' fleet. This Inquisition cruiser, though its style was at odds with the Ultramarines, possessed acceptable structure and performance. With some modifications, it could easily become a good logistics support vessel or auxiliary combat ship.
Under Luna's efficient operation, the data stream representing the transfer of control of the "Blade of Piety" quietly merged into the Ultramarines' command network. This warship, which had been unleashing artillery fire on the Ultramarines not long ago, was now quietly changing its master.
In the star system, the Grey Knights' grey warship, under the silent "gaze" of countless Ultramarines' weapons, was the first to activate its engines, adjust its course, and silently, with an indescribable humiliation, departed the star system. Subsequently, the "released" Imperial Navy warships also started up, following the Grey Knights' warship away. They would return to their respective garrisons, and everything that happened here today would undoubtedly become an indelible page in their memories, and what kind of ripples it would create within the Imperial high command remained to be seen.
Only the captured black Inquisition warships remained, like venomous snakes with their fangs pulled, silently hovering in place, awaiting their new masters—the Ultramarines—to decide their future fate.
A sudden civil war ended with the Ultramarines' absolute victory and decisive "purification." However, behind this victory lay even more complex internal Imperial conflicts, and a huge, now undeniable secret regarding the Ultramarines' relationship with the Eldar. The storm, perhaps, had only temporarily subsided; greater upheavals were brewing on distant Terra.
In the familiar, yet now exceptionally empty and cold, chamber i-10-a, Kolesa curled up in the corner of the bed like an abandoned cub, her arms tightly wrapped around her knees. Her gaze was unfocused on the closed metal door, but her ears strained to catch any faint sound from outside.
The ship's internal broadcast had long since ceased its combat alert, but the subsequent various deployment orders, the distant, faint tremors of lingering explosions, and the smell of gunpowder that seemed to still linger in the circulating air, all clawed invisibly, repeatedly tearing at her taut nerves.
"Gaius… how is he? Is he injured? The battle was so fierce, and he was in the most dangerous First Company, the main force for boarding attacks…" Countless terrifying thoughts, like venomous snakes, slithered into her mind, making her delicate body tremble slightly.
Her purple eyes were brimming with tears of worry and fear, yet she stubbornly held them back, for she remembered Gaius's promise when he left—he would return safely.
Time agonizingly ticked by, second by second. Every second felt like a century.
Finally, just as she was about to be crushed by her own anxieties, the communicator in the chamber i-10-a sounded with a calm, synthesized electronic voice belonging to the warship:
"All-ship announcement: The main enemy resistance has been neutralized. Battle concluded. All combat units to alternate rest and recuperation as planned. Repeat, battle concluded."
The battle… was over?
Kolesa's head snapped up, the confusion in her eyes instantly replaced by immense hope. It was over! This meant the Ultramarines had control of the situation! This meant… Gaius and his comrades had won!
Immediately after, she heard more detailed, unofficial information—fragments of whispers carried through ventilation ducts or faint leaks from internal Astartes communications: The Inquisition's fleet was controlled, the Grand Inquisitor was "purified," the Grey Knights were "respectfully escorted" out, and the Imperial Navy had withdrawn… These messages were like sweet rain, instantly extinguishing the burning flames of anxiety in her heart.
A tremendous sense of relief almost left her prostrate; her taut body suddenly relaxed, and she slumped onto the bunk.
They were safe… Her people were safe, and the supply ship protected by the Fifth Company should be unharmed. Gaius… he should be safe too.
The massive stone that had been pressing on her heart, making it almost impossible to breathe, finally crashed to the ground. She buried her face deep in the soft pillow and wept silently, this time with tears of joy mingled with lingering fear.
On the bridge of the Inquisition cruiser purifying fire, with the complete handover of control and the completion of system docking, relief Astartes from other companies had arrived.
They disciplinedly took over various posts and escorted the detained Inquisition prisoners in batches to a temporary detention area.
Dorian, still not entirely satisfied, gave another light but firm kick with his massive metal boot to the backside of a Sister of Battle who had glared at him earlier, eliciting a cry of indignant shame from her.
"Hey, move it! Dawdling, do you want to stay for dinner?" Dorian mocked triumphantly, then, under the Sister of Battle's almost fiery gaze, he burst into laughter and turned to call out to Gaius and Luna, "Let's go, let's go! Back to our own warship! This damned place smells like the Inquisition's mold, so unlucky!"
The group boarded a thunderhawk gunship returning to the Macragge's Honour. The gunship's engines roared, disengaging from the purifying fire's docking port, and slid into the cold void, flying towards the magnificent Battle Barge.
Inside the cabin, Dorian plopped into a reinforced seat, his heavy Ironclad Pattern Terminator armor causing the entire gunship to sway slightly. He unlatched his helmet's magnetic lock, tucking it under his arm, revealing a face that, though mostly healed of scars, still showed faint traces of bruises.
He let out a long sigh, as if expelling all the "unlucky mold" he had inhaled on the Inquisition warship.
"Damn it, it's finally done!" Dorian smacked his lips, then, as if remembering something, began to complain bitterly to Gaius, who sat opposite him, and Luna, who remained silent with her helmet on, "You wouldn't believe it! In there, seeing those Inquisitors' sour faces and those Sisters of Battle screaming and yelling, I couldn't help but think of our Captain!"
A look of lingering fear mixed with indignation appeared on his face:
"You wouldn't know, but back in the brig, when the Captain lost his temper, he was far more terrifying than those fanatical Sisters of Battle! The strength, my Emperor, I felt it was heavier than the punch of that Ork Warboss we took down before! Bang, bang, bang, hitting me like the main gun of a leman russ tank!"
He grew more agitated as he spoke, gesturing wildly:
"The worst part is! He actually… he actually held my head in that stainless steel toilet and beat me! Held it in and beat me! Can you imagine?! Me, Dorian, a First Company Terminator Assault Marine, getting beaten in a toilet! If that got out, how would I ever face my brothers again?!"
He touched his few recently repaired front teeth, which still gleamed with an unnatural luster, a look of indignant sorrow on his face: "See? These teeth! They were knocked out by the Captain back then! Three of them! A full three!"
Gaius listened quietly, the corners of his mouth under his faceplate twitching involuntarily. Luna remained unresponsive, as if meditating or processing other information through her helmet's internal data stream.
Dorian seemed much relieved after his complaints, but then he started to sound smug again: "But then again, I certainly vented all the frustration I'd bottled up on those Inquisition guys! I beat them all as if they were the Captain! Heh heh, I almost couldn't hold back. If Chapter Master hadn't forbidden indiscriminate killing, I would have…"
"Dorian," Gaius finally couldn't help but interrupt his boasting, his voice coming through his helmet with a hint of helplessness, "Have you ever considered that not many people knew about the Captain being confined to the brig? With your 'vivid and graphic' promotion, I'm afraid the entire First Company, and even other companies, have probably heard about it now."
Gaius paused, his tone carrying a hint of "kind" reminder: "Once the Captain finishes dealing with this mess and has free hands, if he remembers your loose tongue spreading rumors everywhere… do you think he might find another reason to put you back in the brig, so you can relive those 'good old days'?"
The smug expression on Dorian's face instantly froze. He blinked, seemingly only just realizing the seriousness of the issue. Captain Cassius was not a magnanimous man, especially when it came to matters that undermined his authority… But after only a few seconds, Dorian's thick nerves kicked in again.
He waved a dismissive hand, even with a hint of defiance, and said, "Tch! No fear! No fear! That was in the brig before! Now I'm not afraid of him! Wearing this Ironclad Pattern Terminator, I feel like I could take on an Ork Warboss single-handedly! The Captain? Humph, he's definitely no match for me now! I could easily handle him!"
His blind self-confidence left Gaius utterly speechless. He shook his head, no longer trying to persuade him, and merely said in a half-joking, half-serious tone:
"Alright, Dorian. I hope that's true. I just hope I don't suddenly get a notification one day to go to the brig to collect your corpse, or… to fish you out of a toilet."
"Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey! You jinx!" Dorian glared at Gaius indignantly, but deep in his eyes, a flicker of unease, difficult to detect, seemed to pass. After all, Captain Cassius's established authority was not something an Ironclad Pattern Terminator suit could completely negate.
The thunderhawk gunship smoothly entered the Macragge's Honour's massive hangar, accurately docking in the designated area under the guidance signals. The hatch opened, and the three exited in turn.
Dorian was eager to find a Tech-Priest to help him remove his heavy Ironclad Pattern Terminator armor and perhaps scrounge some food. Luna, meanwhile, headed directly to the Tech-Sergeant's workstation; she needed to submit the preliminary assessment report on the captured warship.
Gaius, however, parted ways with them, striding quickly towards the armory. He needed to divest himself of his battle-worn gear.
The armory was still busy, but the atmosphere had significantly softened. The Astartes silently and efficiently removed their Power Armor, handing it over to Tech-Priests and servitors for maintenance and upkeep. Besides the smell of oil, the air now carried a faint scent of gunpowder mixed with sweat.
Gaius walked to his equipment rack and expertly began to disarm. He first carefully returned his Hawkeye Sniper Rifle and steadfast will Power Sword to their places, then successively removed his helmet, power pack, torso armor, arm gauntlets, leg greaves… When the last plate detached from his body, and he put on his ordinary blue combat uniform once again, a long-lost sense of "mortal" lightness seemed to return somewhat.
But he was not in the mood to appreciate this lightness. A strange, unprecedented urgency compelled him. He almost hastily handed over the equipment maintenance to a Tech-Priest, then impatiently turned and strode, one might even say jogged, towards his own chamber i-10-a.
In the corridor, other Astartes returning from battle looked at Gaius's haste with some surprise, but didn't ask questions. Gaius had no time for others; in his mind, there was only one figure—that silver-haired figure in the chamber i-10-a, surely still worried sick about him.
He finally arrived at the door of chamber i-10-a. With hardly a pause, he placed his hand on the identifier, and the metal door slid open inwards.
The moment the door opened, a figure, like a startled yet incredibly agile bird, with a familiar, faint fragrance, suddenly threw herself into his arms!
It was Kolesa.
She seemed to have been waiting behind the door for this very moment. Her arms tightly embraced Gaius's waist, her face buried deep in his strong and warm chest, her delicate body trembling slightly from excitement and lingering fear.
"Gaius… Gaius…" She looked up, her purple eyes shimmering with tears, filled with endless worry and finally released relief, her voice choked with emotion, urgently looking up at him in his embrace, "You're back… Are you alright? Are you injured? Let me see quickly…"
As she spoke, she reached out to check his body, terrified of finding even the slightest scratch on him.
Gaius's body stiffened slightly at her sudden embrace, full of reliance and concern, but then, an indescribably warm and soft emotion, like spring water breaking through ice, instantly surged through his entire being.
He looked down at the beautiful face in his arms, tear-streaked and etched with concern for his safety, seeing the undisguised affection and worry in her eyes. Gaius felt as if the heart he had built over decades, even centuries, of Astartes life—a heart as hard as ice, almost devoid of personal emotion, forged by an iron will, cold doctrines, and countless bloody battles—was struck by an irresistible warm current at this moment.
"Crack…" He felt as if he could hear the sound of the first clear crack appearing in the ten-thousand-year-old ice deep within his heart. Immediately after, the cracks spread rapidly, the ice layer disintegrated, melted… A warm current, which he had never experienced before, called "being cared for," "being worried about," surged out from that fissure, instantly filling his heart, which was accustomed to solitude and sacrifice.
This feeling… was strange, yet not unwelcome. On the contrary, there was a peculiar, reassuring warmth.
He allowed Kolesa to search and examine him, not stopping her. Only after confirming that he was indeed completely unharmed, without even a single scratch, did Kolesa finally let out a sigh of relief, her entire body seemingly depleted, and softly leaned back into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest, listening to his strong and steady heartbeat, as if it were the most beautiful music in the world.
Gaius extended his arms, and this time, it was no longer the hesitant and comforting embrace of last night, but with a firm yet gentle strength, slowly yet incredibly tightly, he completely drew the slender and soft body in his arms into his broad embrace.
He lowered his head, his chin resting lightly in her fragrant silver hair, and whispered in her ear in an extremely soft voice, one he himself hadn't even noticed, as if afraid of disturbing something:
"I'm fine…"
"Not a single injury."
"I made you worry."
After speaking, he tightened his arms, holding her even more forcefully, as if to knead her into his own body, using his body temperature and presence to dispel all her unease and fear.
Kolesa felt his strong embrace and steady heartbeat, listening to his brief yet powerful comfort, and the last trace of gloom in her heart completely dissipated. She said nothing more, simply leaned quietly in his arms, closing her eyes, enjoying the peace and warmth of this post-catastrophe, found-again tranquility.
Inside the chamber i-10-a, there was silence. Only the intertwined breathing of the two, and the silently flowing warmth, enough to melt steel.
Gaius held Kolesa, feeling the real warmth and dependence in his arms. For the first time, he clearly realized that his heart, which beat like a weapon solely for battle and duty, seemed to truly have the warmth of a "human" because of the Eldar woman in his arms.
The ice had melted. The heart had warmed. The road ahead might still be full of thorns, but at least at this moment, having each other was enough.
The Macragge's Honour, like a wounded but still majestic beast, hung silently in the void at the edge of the Connaris system.
Where the Inquisition's cannon fire had ripped open its port side, countless engineering barges and repair scaffolds clung to it like busy worker ants, and dazzling welding flashes flickered frequently like stars in the darkness.
Tech-Sergeants, Tech-Priests, and thousands of servitors were working around the clock on urgent repairs.
Damaged armor was cut and removed, new prefabricated components were hoisted and welded, and internal broken pipelines and energy conduits were individually checked and repaired.
The air was filled with the scorching heat of molten metal, the pungent smell of welding flux, and the incessant hum of servo motors.
Not only the flagship, but also other frigates damaged in the conflict, and those newly captured Inquisition warships requiring modification, were under the same intense work.
The entire Ultramarines fleet, like a giant briefly angered then quickly regaining its calm and efficiency, was silently licking its wounds and digesting the "spoils" of this conflict, accumulating strength for the next phase of operations.
However, in the innermost area of the Macragge's Honour, within the Chapter Master's office, the atmosphere was starkly different from the bustling exterior, with a heavy silence pervading the air.
Marius Calgar sat alone on a throne of obsidian, his posture still upright, but his brow was clouded with an unyielding gravity.
The holographic communication platform before him glowed with a faint blue light, awaiting connection, the other end linking to Holy Terra, tens of thousands of light-years away—the center of power and faith of the Imperium of Man.
He was waiting for a communication, one that would determine the final outcome of this incident, and perhaps even affect the future destiny of the Chapter.
A communication with the Primarch, Roboute Guilliman.
Although he had made decisive, even forceful, decisions on the battlefield and successfully controlled the situation, facing the Primarch, facing the father and mentor who had given the Thirteenth Legion new life and led them through ten millennia of trials, Calgar's heart was still filled with uncertainty.
He knew how "treasonous" his actions today were in terms of traditional Imperial law.
Attacking the Inquisition, killing a Grand Inquisitor, capturing their warships... any one of these was enough to have a Chapter declared traitors.
Time flowed by in silent waiting, each second seemingly stretched.
Finally, the holographic communication platform's light stabilized, and after a subtle data stream fluctuation, a clear figure slowly coalesced.
It was a giant, also seated on a majestic throne, wearing more ornate yet utilitarian blue power armor, with the symbols of Ultramar and the Imperial Aquila emblazoned on his shoulder pads.
His face possessed both the wisdom of a scholar and the resolve of a warrior, but at this moment, his deep eyes revealed an undeniable, profound, soul-deep weariness.
It was as if the pressure of bearing the entire Imperium's burden was conveyed through those eyes.
Roboute Guilliman, Primarch of the Ultramarines, Lord Regent of the Imperium.
"Marius?" Guilliman's voice came through the faster-than-light communication link, carrying a hint of inquiry from being interrupted, and that lingering weariness.
"This encrypted channel... is there something urgent and important?" He was in the intricate, quagmire-like vortex of power on Terra, and the daily political affairs and overt and covert attacks he faced exhausted even his Primarch body.
Calgar immediately rose from the throne, performing a standard and solemn military salute to the Primarch in the holographic image with utmost reverence.
"Primarch," Calgar's voice was steady, yet carried an obvious solemnity.
He offered no pleasantries or circumlocution, knowing the Primarch's time was precious and that this matter allowed for no embellishment.
He cut directly to the chase, reporting the full sequence of events in the most concise and clear language:
"...Such is the situation, Primarch.
Out of humanitarian considerations and the possibility of future resource exchange with a Craftworld, after the fall of the Ark World of Aethel's Tear, I took in approximately eight thousand Eldar children, temporarily housed in the fleet's supply ships."
He first clarified the "motive" for taking in the Eldar, linking it to strategic interests.
"However, this matter was somehow learned by the Ordo Xenos.
Grand Inquisitor Hermann Voss led a massive fleet and conducted an illegal interception and encirclement when my fleet had just exited the Warp and arrived at the outskirts of the Connaris region."
His tone gradually hardened:
"The other party refused all explanations, rejected communication, and fired upon our forces first, causing substantial damage to the Macragge's Honour and other vessels.
What's more..."
Calgar paused, a glint of severity flashing in his eyes, as if he heard those blasphemous words again:
"Voss, in communication, openly subjected you, Lord Guilliman, to extremely vile and intolerable insults!
He claimed you... were a 'regent with more talent for maintaining than for advancing,' and even... 'biased towards your sons.'"
He did not fully repeat the more offensive words, but the meaning was clear enough.
"Your subordinate... could no longer tolerate it.
Under circumstances of continuous enemy attack, ineffective communication, and blasphemy against the Primarch, I ordered the fleet to counterattack and dispatched boarding parties to seize control of the Inquisition warships."
He concluded by stating the outcome:
"Currently, the conflict has ended.
The Inquisitors directly under the Inquisition have been imprisoned, and their core faction... including Grand Inquisitor Voss himself, has been completely eliminated by our Dreadnoughts during the purification process.
The captured Inquisition warships are currently undergoing modification."
Having reported, Calgar bowed his head slightly, awaiting the final judgment from the other end of the communication, from the being who represented one of the Imperium's highest authorities and was also his genetic father.
He was prepared to face the Primarch's potential wrath and reprimand for his unauthorized use of force and instigation of internal conflict.
After all, regardless of the reason, attacking the Inquisition was an extremely sensitive matter with severe consequences.
In the holographic image, Guilliman listened quietly, his weathered face showing almost no change in expression, only his deep eyes narrowing slightly and flashing with a cold light when he heard about the Inquisition firing first and insulting him.
A suffocating silence lasted for more than ten seconds.
However, Guilliman's reaction after speaking completely surprised Calgar.
There was no expected thunderous rage, no stern questioning; his voice was even calmer than before, but beneath that calm lay a deep sense of helplessness and dissatisfaction with entrenched forces.
"The Ordo Xenos... their modus operandi has remained unchanged for ten millennia, prejudiced and lacking foresight," Guilliman said slowly, his tone carrying a condescending judgment.
"It is a fact that humans and Eldar have had far more disputes than cooperation throughout their long history.
But..."
He changed tack, his gaze sharply fixed on Calgar:
"In this dark age, facing Chaos, Tyranids, and other unknown threats, to remain insular and reject all potential for cooperation is true foolishness.
Limited cooperation, based on common interests and real threats, is not unacceptable."
He affirmed the logic behind Calgar's actions:
"Your decision to take in those Eldar children, whether out of humanitarian concern or, as you said, to reserve bargaining chips for future resource exchange with a Craftworld, was driven by the interests of Ultramar, the Chapter, and, on a broader scale, to enhance humanity's adaptability in the face of greater threats.
Marius, you were not wrong in this matter."
"As for the Inquisition..." Guilliman's lips curved into a grim arc, "They attacked friendly forces first and blasphemed the Lord Regent of the Imperium; their actions themselves crossed the line.
I will personally address the High Lords of Terra and other factions within the Inquisition to explain the situation.
An Inquisitor blinded by fanaticism, who might even instigate civil war, deserved to be purged.
You need not worry too much about this; I will handle it."
His words were filled with unreserved favoritism and support for his son, and at the same time, clearly expressed strong dissatisfaction with the conservative, rigid forces within the Imperium who disregarded the larger picture.
As an "ancient" who had returned from a ten-thousand-year slumber, Guilliman knew more clearly than anyone that for the Imperium to survive now, it must change and break some outdated conventions.
Calgar's hanging heart finally settled due to the Primarch's clear support.
He bowed deeply to Guilliman's image: "Thank you for your understanding and support, Primarch!"
However, Calgar had another matter on his mind, a more private and riskier one.
He hesitated, but recalling the Primarch's open attitude towards human-Eldar cooperation earlier, he ultimately decided to confess honestly.
This was both an act of absolute loyalty to the Primarch and a plea for the most fundamental protection for Dorian and Kolesa.
"Primarch, there is one more thing... I need to report to you," Calgar's voice was slightly lowered, with a hint of imperceptible caution, "This concerns a Sergeant within the Chapter.
He is immensely loyal, has distinguished himself in battle, and is one of Ultramar's finest warriors."
He did not mention Dorian's name, retaining a last buffer.
"In the process of caring for that Eldar Autarch... it seems... a relationship beyond the conventional developed between the two of them."
He tried to use objective terms to describe it:
"And that Eldar Autarch... she even personally stated that she is willing to give up everything to stay by this Sergeant's side, and... is willing to die with him for Ultramar."
After Calgar finished speaking, he held his breath again.
This matter challenged traditional notions even more than taking in Eldar children, and he was not even sure how the Primarch would react.
In the holographic image, Guilliman, always known for his composure and rationality, for the first time showed a clearly visible... stunned expression after hearing these words.
A flicker of disbelief passed through his deep eyes.
An Eldar? And a high-ranking Autarch? Falling in love with one of his Astartes Sergeants?
And pledging to "die together"?
In this dark, cruel, betrayal- and slaughter-filled 41st Millennium, in these years known as the "Indomitus Crusade," it sounded utterly fantastical!
Eldar arrogance was ingrained; they viewed humans as crude, short-lived races, and Astartes Brothers were war machines deliberately stripped of most mundane emotions.
Such a combination, such an emotion... was truly too rare, even... incredible.
Guilliman remained silent for a longer time.
His fingers unconsciously tapped lightly on the armrest of the throne, as if weighing the complex implications.
After a long while, he slowly spoke, his voice carrying a peculiar mix of surprise, contemplation, and even a hint of... ineffable emotion:
"An Eldar Autarch... willing to pledge such an oath for one of my sons..." Guilliman repeated in a low voice, as if confirming the veracity of the statement.
He raised his eyes, his gaze seemingly piercing through the faster-than-light communication barrier, seeing the pair who had crossed the chasm of race and destiny.
"In this dark age, for such... pure emotional connection to be born, regardless of its origin, is itself a... miracle."
His tone contained no hint of reprimand or opposition, but rather a profound calm and... a barely perceptible tolerance.
"I will not separate them," Guilliman made his final decision, his voice clear and firm, "Since they have chosen each other, and that Sergeant is also a loyal and trustworthy son of mine, then they have the right to decide their own... emotional allegiance."
He paused, adding from a more macroscopic perspective:
"Moreover, from a pragmatic point of view, such a relationship might also become a special bridge between us and certain Eldar factions.
Through them, we might be able to attempt to re-establish limited communication and cooperation channels with some relatively rational Craftworlds.
Especially... regarding their knowledge of the Webway."
The Webway, that ancient Eldar creation that allowed safe passage through the Warp, had always been a strategic resource that the Imperium of Man, especially Guilliman, greatly desired to understand and even utilize.
If such a personal relationship could open a breach, its value would be immeasurable.
Calgar's last great burden finally lifted.
He had not expected that the Primarch would not only not oppose it but would also give his approval and support on both emotional and strategic levels.
This undoubtedly provided the most solid guarantee for the future of Dorian and Kolesa.
"I understand, Primarch.
Your will shall be done," Calgar responded respectfully, his heart filled with admiration for the Primarch's wisdom and magnanimity.
Guilliman looked at Calgar, his weary expression seemingly softened by this "unusual" matter, even revealing a very faint, relieved smile.
"Marius," Guilliman's voice softened slightly, "You have done well.
To uphold the interests of Ultramar in a complex situation, protect your sons, and dare to break unnecessary shackles... this is precisely what I wish to see."
He sighed softly, the sigh carrying a longing for his distant sons:
"Here on Terra, affairs are complex, power is intertwined, and it is exhausting.
I miss Macragge, I miss you all.
Should there be similar major matters in the future, you may contact me directly through this encrypted channel."
"Yes, Primarch!" Calgar straightened his posture, responding solemnly.
To receive such trust and closeness from the Primarch was the supreme honor of all Ultramarines.
As the communication was about to end, Guilliman gave his final instruction: "Proceed with the affairs of the Connaris region as planned.
Be cautious in your cooperation with the Hero of Connaris.
Those Eldar children... ensure they are properly settled; perhaps they truly will be useful in the future."
"Understood!"
The holographic image slowly dissipated, and the communication was cut off.
Silence returned to the office. Calgar sat alone on the throne, unmoving for a long time. This communication with the Primarch not only resolved the immediate crisis, but more importantly, he clearly felt the Primarch's expectation for change, and his… tacit approval, even protection, of those small but precious emotions that could still blossom in the dark age.
This made him even more determined in his previous decision. Perhaps, in this desperate galaxy, it was these seemingly small lights, these connections that crossed boundaries, that were the true hope against the endless darkness.
He looked out at the busy repair scene through the viewport, and the gradually clearing planet in the distance, a decision already made in his heart.
After the communication with Primarch Guilliman ended, the biggest stone in Marius Calgar's heart finally fell. The Primarch's clear support and favoritism not only put a temporary end to the conflict with the Inquisition but also filled him with confidence in handling subsequent matters, including the relationship between Gaius and Kolesa.
He immediately connected to the front-line communication in the Connaris region, reaching out to Hero of Connaris Agman, who had long been stationed there awaiting rendezvous, and Captain Cato Sicarius of the 2nd Company, known for his bravery and… a touch of impulsiveness.
In the holographic image, Hero Agman was clad in power armor bearing the unique insignia of the Connaris region, his face composed, his eyes sharp, revealing the competence of a seasoned warrior. Standing beside him, 2nd Company Captain Sicarius was like a drawn sword, his blue power armor adorned with more honor markings, his face showing undisguised battle intent.
"Chapter Master!" both men saluted Calgar in unison.
"Agman, Sicarius," Calgar nodded slightly, getting straight to the point, "The fleet encountered some… unexpected circumstances after reaching the designated jump point. We had a brief conflict with the Ordo Xenos fleet. The situation is currently under control, but 'Macragge's Honour' and some other ships require urgent repairs."
He spoke concisely, without revealing too many details: "Therefore, the original rendezvous time may need to be postponed by approximately twenty-four standard hours."
"The Inquisition?!" Upon hearing this, Captain Sicarius's hawk-like eyes instantly widened, and his voice immediately rose several octaves, filled with incredulous fury, "How dare they run wild in our Ultramar star system?! And attack our fleet?! Are they tired of living?!"
He paced back and forth in the communication image, fuming, the servo systems of his power armor humming with displeasure: "These bureaucrats who only know how to hide in the back and point fingers! Do they know what the front-line warriors are facing?! They even dare to attack their own people! They are simply parasites of the Imperium!"
When he learned from Calgar that the Inquisitor had even openly insulted Primarch Guilliman, Sicarius's rage reached its peak. He slammed his fist against the nearby metal wall with a loud bang:
"Blaspheming the Primarch?! Unforgivable! Chapter Master! Please allow me to immediately lead the 2nd Company straight to Terra! I will drag those Inquisitors hiding in their Hive Cities out of their shells one by one, twist off all their heads, and display them on the walls of Macragge!"
His gritting teeth and eagerness to immediately storm Terra made even Agman, standing nearby, turn his head slightly.
"Sicarius! Calm down!" Calgar sternly admonished, his tone carrying the Chapter Master's authority, "Impulsiveness won't solve the problem! The matter has been dealt with, and the provocateurs have paid the price. Lord Guilliman is also aware of this and will handle the aftermath appropriately."
He appeased Sicarius, who was like a lit Bolter, and issued new orders: "The immediate priority is the defense of the Connaris region. I order that Hero Severus Agman of Connaris and you, Captain Cato Sicarius, jointly take responsibility, immediately lead the 2nd Company and the local Connaris defense forces to conduct preliminary reconnaissance and clearing of the designated patrol areas, ensuring safe passage and eliminating potential threats."
"The main fleet will rendezvous with you as soon as repairs are completed."
Upon hearing that Lord Guilliman was aware and would handle it, Sicarius's anger barely subsided, but he still grumbled indignantly, "Those bastards got off easy…" However, he had no objection to the Chapter Master's order and responded with Agman, chests puffed out:
"Yes! Chapter Master! Mission accomplished!"
The communication ended. Calgar rubbed his temples. Sicarius's bravery was beyond doubt, but his impulsive nature could sometimes be a headache. He hoped Agman's composure could temper it slightly.
On the upper deck of the "Macragge's Honour," in the exclusive lounge for the First Company, the atmosphere was starkly different from the tense repairs and pre-battle deployments outside. Although the decor here was simple and practical, it had a touch more life than the cold corridors and cabins. First Company banners and symbolic honor markings hung on the walls, and several sturdy metal tables and chairs were fixed to the floor. Some Terminator veterans who had completed their shifts or combat missions sat in small groups, conversing in low voices or performing weapon maintenance.
In a relatively quiet corner, Dorian's massive frame almost occupied an entire bench. Luna sat quietly opposite him, holding a data-slate, seemingly performing some kind of calculation or reading. Her light pink short hair was particularly striking under the soft lounge lighting.
"Ah, finally, a moment to breathe." Dorian leaned back casually in his chair, picked up a cup of high-energy nutrient solution specially prepared for him, took a large gulp like beer, and let out a satisfied sigh, "I was suffocated on those Inquisition ships earlier; everywhere had that religious fanatic smell."
Just then, the automatic door of the lounge slid open, and Gaius walked in. Behind him was another figure—it was Kolesa.
She was still wearing the white casual attire of the Ultramarines. The loose clothing could not conceal her slender and graceful figure. Her silver long hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. Her exquisite, art-like face carried a hint of shyness from being new to the place, but more so, a sense of security from Gaius being by her side. Her appearance instantly attracted the gaze of almost all the warriors in the lounge.
After all, an Aeldari female appearing in the First Company's core lounge was an unprecedented event.
Gaius felt the gazes, but his expression was calm. He simply led Kolesa directly to where Dorian and Luna were, then sat down on the empty chairs opposite them. Kolesa also obediently sat on the chair next to him, her hands placed somewhat nervously on her clasped knees.
"Yo! Gaius! And… sister-in-law! You're here!" Dorian saw them and immediately greeted them warmly and loudly. His booming voice instantly broke the quiet of the corner, drawing curious glances from several veterans further away. His address of "sister-in-law" was utterly natural, as if Kolesa had long been one of them.
Luna also looked up from her data-slate at Kolesa. Her usually expressionless face showed an extremely subtle, but definite, smile as she nodded to Kolesa, as a greeting. She seemed unsurprised by Kolesa's appearance.
Kolesa felt much of her nervousness dissipate upon seeing Dorian and Luna's friendly attitude. She also gave them a gentle and grateful smile, responding softly, "Sir Dorian, Miss Luna."
However, just as Kolesa had settled down, a light pink, whirlwind-like figure suddenly darted over from the side with a "whoosh," and without a word, directly pounced into Kolesa's arms, startling her!
It was Airas!
The Dark Eldar girl had somehow slipped into the lounge. Her large green eyes now sparkled, as if she had seen the most precious gem in the world, fixated on Kolesa's face, letting out an astonished "Wow!" sound.
"Pretty big sister! You're really beautiful!" Airas rubbed against Kolesa's embrace like a kitten, completely ignoring Gaius's slightly helpless gaze, "A million times prettier than all the Haemonculi dolls I've seen in Commorragh!"
Kolesa was a little flustered by Airas's sudden enthusiasm, but looking at the girl in her arms, who was like an exquisite doll with clear eyes, she quickly relaxed. A gentle smile, imbued with maternal warmth, appeared on her face as she gently reached out and stroked Airas's soft, light pink short hair. Airas purred contentedly, her eyes narrowing, as if she had truly become a kitten being petted.
Dorian chuckled at this "harmonious" scene, and then his restless booming voice started again. He was clearly a man who couldn't keep a secret and enjoyed knowing all sorts of "inside stories."
"Hey, I say, fellas, and sister-in-law," Dorian lowered his voice, but at his volume, the so-called "lowering" was enough for people at several surrounding tables to hear clearly, a triumphant expression on his face as if sharing top-secret information, "Do you know, just in case, I mean just in case, if you accidentally ended up on a remote, godforsaken planet, where you couldn't call for help from heaven or earth, how could you most quickly get… well, let's say, the 'attention' and 'help' of the Dark Angels Chapter, or even Lion King himself?"
This was a rather tricky and peculiar question. Gaius and Luna both looked thoughtful, then shook their heads, indicating they didn't know. Although they and the Dark Angels both belonged to the loyalist faction, their interactions were not close, and they had limited understanding of that Chapter known for its mystery and conservatism.
Kolesa, while gently holding Airas who was rubbing against her, raised her violet eyes and looked at Dorian curiously, asking softly, "Dark Angels? Lion King?… I'm sorry, Sir Dorian, I don't know much about human… Legions." She didn't know who Lion El'Jonson was.
"Heh! You guys don't know, do you?!" Dorian, seeing that he had successfully piqued everyone's curiosity, became even more smug. He deliberately kept them in suspense, took another gulp of nutrient solution, and then said excitedly:
"The method is simple! All you have to do is find a way to spread the word all over that planet, preferably by loudspeaker—just say, 'Lion El'Jonson is actually a Calibanite Great Cat! All he does is hide in the Rock and sleep all day!'"
As soon as he finished speaking, Gaius and Luna's expressions instantly became a bit strange. A Calibanite Great Cat? If that epithet reached the ears of the Dark Angels… Dorian wasn't done. He continued enthusiastically, "Then, secretly, but in a way they can trace, spread rumors that you have concrete leads on the 'Fallen Angels,' that you know where they are hiding, or even… just say you've already made contact with the Fallen Angels!"
He spread his hands, a "See how smart I am?" expression on his face:
"If nothing goes wrong, I guarantee that before long, the Dark Angels' 'Unforgiving Truth' will Warp directly into the orbit of that planet at the fastest possible speed! That efficiency is much faster than Imperial Post!"
However, he then changed his tone, revealing a schadenfreude-filled, yet somewhat fearful, smile:
"But… whether they're coming to rescue you from your misery, or to 'physically silence' you to ensure their little secrets aren't leaked… that I can't guarantee! Hahahahaha!"
His words were clearly mocking the Dark Angels' globally known extreme sensitivity and almost paranoid secrecy regarding information about the "Fallen Angels." If any Dark Angel heard such words, it would undoubtedly lead to a relentless pursuit.
Gaius shook his head helplessly. He was already used to Dorian's loose tongue and willingness to say anything, but he still reminded him, "Dorian, these words are just for us here; don't spread them around outside." He didn't want Dorian's big mouth to cause the Chapter to incur the wrath of a troublesome opponent like the Dark Angels.
Luna, on the other hand, glanced at Dorian and said flatly, "Your front teeth were just fixed not long ago." The implication was, if he kept talking nonsense, he might lose the rest of his teeth too.
Although Kolesa didn't quite understand what "Fallen Angels" specifically referred to, from Gaius and Luna's reactions and Dorian's playful tone, she could guess that it was definitely an extremely sensitive and dangerous topic. She just found Dorian to be… very interesting, and very… "brave."
Dorian, however, waved his hand dismissively: "Don't worry, don't worry, I know what I'm doing! This is just chatting among ourselves!"
In the lounge, the atmosphere became relaxed due to Dorian's antics. Kolesa held Airas, who was clinging to her, listened to Dorian boast, watched the steady Gaius and the quiet Luna beside her, and felt a strange, warm current of "belonging" quietly flow through her heart, an atmosphere distinctly different from Aeldari society, unique to human Astartes warriors.
Although the future remained unknown, at least at this moment, in this human lounge, she found a rare sense of peace and… a feeling of home.