Warhammer 40k: Ours Journey

Chapter 37: Change of Plans, Let's Just Kill Them All!

Romulus, having finished re-equipping his Tartaros Terminators, narrowed his eyes. A series of questions flashed through his mind. Combining this with what the Black Templar Chaplain had said, he began to understand what could possibly require an Archmagos to micromanage the production capacity of an entire Ark Mechanicus.

He looked back at his friends.

Hmm—

The four of them exchanged meaningful glances. They all understood what was on this ship.

No wonder the Archmagos was being so careful.

"Brother Tyberos."

After his argument with the Inquisitor, Marshal Orlando, persuaded by his Chaplain to make one last attempt, sought out the Carcharodon leader. Although he desperately wanted to stuff the damned witch into an adamantium coffin, just like the Deathwatch brothers probably did, even the Black Templars couldn't do anything to an Inquisitor without concrete evidence. If they were to execute an Inquisitor of the Ordo Originatus on some trumped-up charge, rumors highly unfavorable to their Chapter would soon spread across every Imperial planet their crusade fleet passed through.

In time, those rumors would become accepted fact. In less than a hundred years, they would be facing censure from the High Lords of Terra and an investigative fleet from the Adeptus Arbites. For most Astartes Chapters, this would be a devastating blow.

"Speak," Tyberos said coldly, looking down at the Marshal before him.

"Cleansing the Eldar requires the aid of the Carcharodons. The Archmagos has given us only five minutes to complete the operation. Otherwise, the deal is off." The Marshal held his head high, maintaining his stern demeanor.

Tyberos glanced at Archmagos Cawl, who had not yet left. The Archmagos gave a slight nod, confirming the truth of the demand.

"Furthermore," Orlando added, "the use of heavy weapons is forbidden. Any unnecessary explosions could cause significant damage to the property contained within this vessel."

"What are the xenos' numbers?"

"Approximately five hundred. The exact number is unknown."

"Their disposition?"

"They are located in the aft section. The corridors are a labyrinth. Our probing attacks suffered heavy losses, with a casualty ratio of nearly three to one. We have no knowledge of the enemy's specific deployments."

There was an advantage to being blunt. It saved time on meaningless rhetoric, and you got the unvarnished truth. Orlando didn't seem to mind Tyberos's cold attitude, and after a moment, he relayed all the detailed information they had.

"The conditions are too harsh," Tyberos said, his refusal clear. Even with the Carcharodons' now-abundant manpower and equipment, and even though he was itching to kill some xenos and maybe capture a Kabalite Archon to interrogate about the Void-stone, he was not about to sacrifice his men to complete some Archmagos's absurd task.

"My Lord!"

Before Tyberos could turn away, his 3rd Company Captain, Akia, approached and relayed the transmigrators' request via their private comms.

"..."

After hearing Akia's report, Tyberos looked over at the transmigrators, who were still standing with the Black Templar Chaplain. Romulus, a condensation trail rising from his heat vents, gave him a thumbs-up and gestured to the thirty-seven warriors behind him, now armed with volkite calivers, as if to say, 'We've got this.' He had already run a test in the hangar the Sharks had allotted him. It was solid.

Hmm, alright then.

"Te Kahurangi," Tyberos called to his Chief Librarian. "Have the First Company send another thirty men." He used his external vox.

"Brother?" Marshal Orlando looked surprised. Why was he mobilizing troops to the Ark after just refusing the mission?

"Change of plans," Tyberos said, flexing the talons on his hands, the chainfist on his other arm sparking as the gears engaged. "Lord Romulus will explain."

Without waiting for a response, he ceded the main position in the conversation. Tyberos had never cared for so-called honor. As descendants of the forgotten, honor was something the Space Sharks never had to begin with. In the void beyond the galaxy, it was even less important. Most people who tried to deal with the Carcharodons became very polite after meeting him in person.

He knew what Romulus was doing, which was exactly why he had to let the "old-timers" take the lead. Just as Romulus and his men had respected his position as a Chapter Master and preserved his authority, a Chapter Master's respect could, in turn, greatly elevate their status.

Status. This was incredibly useful within the Imperium. Unlike the Carcharodons, who had always roamed the fringes, Romulus and his group were clearly planning to return to the Imperium. They would face endless probing and scrutiny from various Imperial factions. Having the backing of an entire Chapter would make all the difference.

"..."

Romulus naturally stepped forward to stand before Cawl, exchanging a glance with Tyberos at his side. Tyberos gave a slight nod, ceding leadership. The Sharks stood quietly in formation, showing no opposition to backing the ancient warriors. It wasn't just because of their hosts' generosity, but also their attitude—to learn of the Imperium's current state and still choose to fight for humanity. If it weren't for their oath to the Void Father, which compelled them to fight the horrors in the outer dark that threatened the Imperium, they would have probably let their heritage die and vanished into the void long ago, instead of periodically collecting their "red tithe" and disgusting both themselves and the Imperium.

These ancient warriors, after witnessing the state of the Imperium, were still willing to return. That was a loyalty beyond words.

"My Lord?"

Now it was everyone else's turn to be confused. Aside from the Honored Ancients interred in Dreadnoughts, who else could command a Chapter Master to call them "Lord"? When Marshal Orlando's gaze fell upon the "Deathwatch" marines, his mind filled with even more questions. Wait, does the Deathwatch have this many Imperial Fists? An entire Kill-team full of them? Did they leave Terra undefended or something?

"The Carcharodon fleet is towing one Strike Cruiser, its main structure intact but its combat capabilities lost, and one Ork vessel of the same class," Romulus said to the Archmagos, getting straight to the point. "I wish to exchange them for the ownership of one frigate."

Logically, this was a terrible deal. If they towed those two ships to a Forge World and paid with the Ork vessel, they could get a brand-new Strike Cruiser in a couple of years. But Romulus knew they couldn't afford to wait in one place for two years.

"Not enough," the Archmagos replied flatly.

"Then what if we add that Eldar cruiser?"

The Archmagos looked at Romulus with cold, mechanical eyes.

Romulus looked back calmly. His face showed no sign of bluffing, arrogance, conceit, or religious fanaticism. There was no desperation of a final gamble. He was completely calm, as if he were stating a simple fact, a conclusion reached after a rigorous analysis of the situation.

It had been a long time since Cawl had seen such an expression... a very long time.

It felt like it had been ten thousand years.