Warhammer 40k: Ours Journey

Chapter 26: The Old Terran Tradition - We Split Everything Fifty-Fifty

The four of them exchanged surprised glances.

They hadn't expected to run into this famously "destitute" Chapter. Weren't these guys supposed to be operating in the galactic halo? What were they doing back in the Ultima Segmentum? Were they really lucky enough to run into them during a resupply run?

"Now this is interesting," Ramesses chuckled.

He hadn't known beforehand that their rescuers were the Carcharodons. Astropathic communication was more like a game of Pictionary, with both sides trying to decipher abstract images. You were lucky if you could even guess the general meaning.

The Carcharodons, a Chapter of unknown origin. But the transmigrators knew that their lineage could most likely be traced back to the Terran-born Raven Guard exiled by their Primarch, Corvus Corax. They first entered the Imperial record in M32 and had maintained a distant, almost detached relationship with the Imperium ever since.

You could say the Sharks were poor, but they possessed a vast arsenal of Great Crusade-era equipment. Their third company alone had three Contemptor Dreadnoughts. They even had relics like an Inferno-class cruiser and a battle barge that had served since the time of the Great Crusade.

You could say the Sharks were rich, but after every battle, they would strip their enemies of everything down to their loincloths. To conserve their limited resources, the entire Chapter consisted of close-combat specialists who favored the Mark V "Heresy" pattern power armor—a suit that sacrificed performance for durability and compatibility. They were also fond of chain-axes. At first glance, you might mistake them for a Chaos warband.

They were a fleet-based Chapter, constantly roaming the darkness beyond the galaxy's edge, so they had no stable supply lines. Every time they returned to Imperial space, the entire Chapter descended like a pack of starving bandits. They would find a planet and enact a "blood tithe," while also trading whatever STC fragments they'd found in the void with the Adeptus Mechanicus for weapons and ammunition. After they were done, they would disappear back into the void, only to return a century or so later for another resupply.

This Chapter looked down on the current Imperium but remained fiercely loyal. They were said to hold a secret charter, signed by a Primarch, authorizing them to battle the xenos in the darkness beyond the light of the Astronomican and guard the Imperium's frontiers. The High Lords of Terra, in turn, looked down on this unruly Astartes Chapter and basically ignored them, tossing them a remote planet to serve as a homeworld and leaving them to fend for themselves.

The Sharks, in their typical fashion, simply packed up the entire planet's population and resources and took them along.

Due to the lack of supplies during their void campaigns and the absence of a stable recruitment method, the Chapter had been forced to become self-sufficient. As a result, the Carcharodons had always been extremely... "pragmatic."

Given their documented history of thuggish behavior, this meeting was bound to be interesting.

"Patch them through," Romulus said. After waiting for Arabella and Colonel Kovek to join them, he gestured for the runner to accept the communication. After two weeks, both parties had managed to synchronize their comms protocols.

"This is Kill-team Leader Romulus of the Deathwatch," a blunt voice came through the vox, forgoing any pleasantries. The High Gothic, a language that had ceased to be mainstream in the Imperium for millennia, was perfectly clear.

"As per the rules, we will be taking 50% of your ship's materiel as payment for your rescue."

The old Terran tradition: meet and split everything fifty-fifty.

The four of them exchanged subtle glances. They were finally witnessing the infamous greed of the Great Harvesters firsthand. It was reasonable, though. In theory, they were just a remnant force. Fifty percent of their supplies probably wouldn't even cover the fuel costs for the Carcharodons' fleet to get here.

"Whose rules?" Romulus asked with interest, replying in the same ancient tongue. They didn't care much for material goods; after all, they could create them at will. Besides, giving the Carcharodons some supplies wasn't a bad thing. This Chapter wasn't a bunch of degenerates like the Astral Claws. Still, their attitude was terrible. Was this how you spoke to your future benefactors?

The communication line fell silent for a moment. Then, over the sound of heavy metal feet grinding on the deck, another, colder voice came through.

"Our rules!"

"Tyberos?" Romulus asked, taking a guess.

"..."

The line went silent again.

A victorious smile touched Romulus's lips. He had successfully doxxed their leader.

"If you want it," he said, "you'll have to come and take it yourself."

"You already know the rules, Lord of the Shadowed Path."

With that, Romulus cut the communication and turned to Colonel Kovek. "Colonel, open the launch bay's grav-lifts. Put all the spare vehicles out in plain sight. Clear an additional area large enough to accommodate two hundred men. Order the galley-serfs to prepare food, with no need to conserve inventory."

"My Lord, is this for everyone?" Kovek asked instinctively, then realized it was a foolish question.

"Of course, it's for everyone," Romulus said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Just because we fed them once doesn't mean we can't feed them again. Are we really short on that much food?

"Oh, and when the Carcharodon Space Marines arrive, try to maintain a distance from them. Have auto-servers handle the food distribution. If any necessary interaction is required, make sure it is done under the protection of our men."

"If any of them ask about our identities or the details of your operation, you may tell them the truth. It is no great secret..."

"Understood, my Lord." After listening to Romulus's instructions, Kovek went off to arrange the matters with crisp efficiency. Dealing with Romulus was easy; you didn't have to guess his intentions. He laid out every step clearly and didn't bother with any obtuse "obedience tests."

Romulus then turned to Arthur, who had put away his copy of the Codex.

"Arthur, go deal with Ramesses's... projects."

The reason he didn't ask Ramesses himself was that the man's workflow was a chaotic mess of inspiration. He could never remember all the things he was working on. Arthur, on the other hand, who had been keeping a close eye on him, knew exactly what was going on.

"Understood." Arthur nodded and turned swiftly towards the lift leading to the Navigator's Sanctum.

The group had never tried to hide their actions. Or rather, aside from Ramesses and Arthur, their identities weren't anything to be ashamed of. It didn't matter if they were exposed. No one in this era would recognize the legion-era color schemes of the Thousand Sons or the Dark Angels anyway. And what could anyone find out by investigating the Ultramarines and the Blood Angels? Every Chapter had its secrets; they didn't go snooping into each other's business.

While Romulus was still going over the details with the others, Arthur's lift arrived at a zone that was a stark demarcation between light and shadow.

He raised his hand and unlocked a security seal known only to the four of them. A soul-chilling cold washed over him.

This was a Warp-tainted zone, a special area formed by the frequent interaction between realspace and the Immaterium. The divine powers from the Empyrean naturally converged here, like heavy sediment settling in the deepest parts of a river.

After taking a few steps into this environment, Arthur reached out and turned something that resembled a valve.

(End of Chapter)