Chapter 12: Negotiation
Capital ships remained in orbit rather than descending to the surface, relying instead on Thunderhawk gunships for short-range transport between near-orbital space and the atmosphere.
There was another method of deployment, more straightforward and considerably more violent: the drop pod.
Launched directly from orbit, these one-way assault craft plummeted planetward like meteors, designed not for baseline humans but for the superhuman physiology of the Adeptus Astartes.
Curious about the experience, Omega chose a drop pod over the Thunderhawk.
He soon found himself transformed into a blazing meteor streaking through the sky. Inside the pod, he endured searing heat and violent shaking as it fell tens of thousands of meters.
The experience left him momentarily speechless. 'Is this really how a galactic empire should land on a planet?'
BOOM!
The drop pod struck the surface with explosive force, cratering the ground.
As smoke and dust cleared, the pod's hatches blew open with a metallic clang. Omega emerged, surveying the smoke-filled landscape and the distant city where the fires of war still burned.
Holding his bolter, he regarded the steaming drop pod with dry amusement. "Barely any shock absorption at all. Brutally efficient design."
'But really, isn't this too...barbaric? Surely they can develop something more elegant and efficient, worthy of a Galactic Empire.'
Astartes were transhuman, their enhanced physiology capable of withstanding impacts that would kill lesser beings.
Still, the landing was deeply unpleasant.
After a brief moment to recover, Omega oriented himself, contacted his squad, and moved directly toward the enemy command fortress.
Any alien warriors blocking his path were cut down without exception.
Artillery thunder rolled across the sky, shells and missiles detonated in the distance, raising pillars of smoke and dust. The battlefield sprawled across millions of square kilometers, and every alien base and fortress established during their occupation would need to be eliminated.
An hour later, a massive fortification appeared within a deep canyon. The structure bristled with defensive turrets mounted along its walls.
Fortunately, heavy weapons emplacements and alien troops moved in and out of the main entrance; the failure of the void battle had forced the surface forces to consolidate their defensive positions.
Seeing this, Omega activated his Observer's gift.
With bolter and power sword in hand, he simply walked forward across the open plain. Clad in full power armor, he should have been immediately visible, yet every alien seemed to overlook his presence involuntarily.
Just like that, He walked through the main gate without a fight.
Soon after, fierce fighting erupted in the fortress's core. Important alien commanders died. The arsenal ignited in a chain of explosions.
Amid the smoke and chaos, the fortress gates stood open, and the rest of the Alpha Legion warriors stormed in as reinforcements. Under the eyes of tens of thousands of elite alien troops, Omega had moved like a ghost, transparent, nonexistent.
Having neutralized the defensive forces, the Alpha Legion squad cleared the entire fortress in under an hour.
Subsequently, Omega led his squad by Thunderhawk to the next fortress, then the next bunker, employing the same tactics repeatedly.
As long as a gate stood open, Omega could infiltrate and eliminate key targets. When fortresses sheltered behind energy shields, they requested orbital missile bombardment to deplete the defensive power.
Once the shields weakened, Omega resumed infiltration operations. All Space Marines of the Alpha Legion possessed the Observer's gift to mask their presence, though the Primarch's ability far exceeded that of his sons.
Each Legion drew from its Primarch's gene-seed, and the abilities derived from that genetic legacy reflected its progenitor's nature.
A week later, every major stronghold and fortress held by the Rangdan on Balsavor had been eliminated.
A month later, through the combined operations of the Alpha Legion and the Imperial Army, the Rangdan forces and their slave soldiers were eradicated entirely.
The planet, after months of war and destruction, finally returned to peace.
Alpharius also noted that Balsavor possessed advanced technology, a dense population, and skilled personnel, including Dr. Hermo, who could even repair power armor.
He immediately decided that the world would be an Alpha Legion recruitment planet.
The Legion's mortal auxiliary forces, the Imperial Army regiments attached to the Twentieth, had suffered significant casualties and would rapidly replenish troops and equipment from Balsavor's resources.
Within the core city, in an elegant building over a thousand meters tall, the Governor's office occupied one of the hundreds of floors.
The chamber was brightly lit and magnificently appointed, yet the atmosphere remained tense.
The striking, beautiful Miss Isha regarded the towering figures in power armor and the Tech-Priest of the Mechanicus with his extensively augmented mechanical body.
None of the Imperial military negotiators revealed their faces, lending them an aura of mystery and menace.
Omega, armored and imposing, stood before the corpulent Governor and handed the data-slate compiled by the Tech-Priest to Isha.
She scanned through the documents briefly, then looked up at Omega's expressionless helmet. Her delicate features tightened slightly before she passed the slate to her father for review.
The Alpha Legion's demands were straightforward: the planet would provide extensive resources to support interstellar warfare—manpower, materials, and technology.
The Governor hesitated upon seeing the requisition for full-scale weapons production. The Imperial fleet had saved his world, but if Balsavor were to become a long-term logistics hub for the Alpha Legion, its resources might prove insufficient.
Seeing her father's concern, Isha stepped forward with natural elegance.
She sensed that Omega, the masked Space Marine, was the decision-maker.
"Honored warrior," she began diplomatically, "even if Balsavor exhausted all its resources, sustaining the Alpha Legion through extended interstellar campaigns would prove difficult. War consumes vast quantities of material."
"We do not know how long the Imperium's wars will last, a hundred years? A thousand? The millions of humans on this planet require substantial resources just to survive."
Omega found her reasoning sound. "Indeed. Magos, I assume this isn't the first time such circumstances have arisen. Surely this planet isn't expected to bear the Legion's entire resource burden alone?"
The Tech-Priest behind him—his body almost entirely mechanized, four servo-arms extending from his back—rotated his bionic optical sensors with a soft whir.
He regarded Isha's beauty with complete indifference, his voice emerging as a cold, synthesized monotone.
"Correct. However, such logistical arrangements are military classified information that civilians need not concern themselves with. This planet's technology is highly advanced. Full cooperation with the Legion's requirements is achievable. Do not concern yourself, the Mechanicus will provide assistance."
Hearing that no room for negotiation existed, Miss Isha turned her attention back to Omega. He seemed more amenable to reason, but the Primarch remained silent.
Eventually, Miss Isha, through long and careful negotiation, secured an agreement: without disrupting the planet's civil order, Balsavor would provide its full industrial capacity as a logistics base for the Alpha Legion.
Omega considered the terms and agreed.
The Tech-Priest was visibly displeased that the planetary government had negotiated for concessions rather than accepting the Emperor's Great Crusade unconditionally and with gratitude.
However, since Omega led these negotiations, the Magos did not object. Though some displeasure remained, the Imperial fleet had saved this world, after all, the locals should have been grateful and compliant without reservation.
After both parties finalized the documents, Miss Isha pointedly ignored the mechanical Magos.
She personally invited Omega, a Space Marine who felt more human than many she knew, to tour the vast gardens, a gesture of goodwill befitting his status.
Omega, standing two and a half meters tall in full power armor, followed the elegant lady of the Governor's house through gardens that showcased technological artistry at its finest.
Within an enormous aquarium larger than any from his previous life, various marine creatures swam in choreographed patterns, creating scenes of magnificent beauty, as though the ocean itself had been brought into the building.
Lady Isha smiled as she guided him, constantly observing his reactions.
When they reached a perfectly maintained ecological terrarium containing a small forest and graceful animals, Omega paused in genuine surprise.
[End of Chapter]