Chapter 163: Damn It, Karma Has Struck |
"Fortunately, the T'au have quite a few allied races. We can find the coordinates of these planets."
Swiping his fingers across the suspended holographic star map, psychic fire twirling around his fingertips like fireflies, Rameses then delivered a piece of news that was neither entirely good nor entirely bad. His voice was calm, yet it carried a subtle, underlying tension, as if he were weighing some invisible cost.
"Are we seriously going to have to rely on a blind draw for every single one?"
Romulus's face looked as if it had been frozen solid; not even his eyebrows twitched.
If they accidentally stumbled straight onto a Kroot world, they could end up completely bogged down.
Any race that had clashed with the Imperium during the Great Crusade era and survived was anything but simple.
"Just burn some Daemons and help me calculate it. We need some time to rest and reorganize anyway."
Rameses continued to initiate the prophecy ritual.
The light of the prophecy ritual spread beneath his feet like flowing mercury, illuminating the side of his face in flickering, shifting shadows.
Arthur did not say much; he merely gave Romulus a slight nod before turning and leaving.
The internal affairs of the fleet were piled up like a mountain, and the Dark Angels' reconciliation rituals were still ongoing—
Baring their fangs, breathing down each other's necks, abandoning their usual silence and cryptic riddles for brutal, bare-knuckle brawls to prove their loyalty to one another.
Once this ritual concluded, he would have to personally receive the Fallen who were continuously arriving at their door.
'I have a feeling I'll be the first member of the Wings of Dawn to officially form a full military force.'
Standing before the balcony, watching the Dark Angels engaging in their ceremonial meditation a short distance away, Arthur looked at the list Zabriel had given him.
The number of Fallen who had responded to the call had already reached five hundred. Once they all gathered, it would be the equivalent of a full Space Marine Chapter.
Then there was the Alpha Legion.
'A Grand Company, numbering roughly between one and two thousand, with nine functioning captains, The Hydra being one of them.'
Arthur narrowed his eyes.
This Alpha Legion splinter faction—which appeared to have fallen to Chaos yet somehow had not—still required careful observation. Their organizational structure was relatively intact, but their internal politics were as tangled and intricate as a spider's web.
Among them were traitors forced to masquerade as loyalists, outright turncoats, those who appeared loyal but were secretly traitors, and... the true, genuine loyalist Alpharius.
They called themselves the Eye of Humanity, operating throughout the central and southern reaches of the Segmentum Ultima. Relying on their formidable intelligence networks and covert infiltration, they had quietly invaded numerous Schola Progenium facilities across the Imperium.
"..."
The Imperium was like a sieve; heretics and Xenos could come and go as they pleased.
These Alpha Legion operatives would disguise themselves as loyalist Space Marine Chapters, traveling to these regions to draft human new recruits or mortal agents to fulfill the grand design of the Sons of the Hydra.
Although, much like the little secrets of the Dark Angels, this so-called grand design was shrouded in utter mystery.
At the very least, Rameses had dug through The Hydra's soul multiple times and confirmed that this grand design was genuinely aimed at the survival of humanity. As for the rest of the details, it was entirely unclear.
As long as they did not turn to Chaos and refrained from committing abhorrent atrocities that crossed the bottom line, the Transmigrators possessed a relatively high tolerance for whether someone was technically a traitor or not.
Besides, among the traitor legions, these ones who had not fallen to corruption were undeniably much sharper and more lucid than those spike-covered, deranged maniacs.
'They are planning to use our hen to lay their eggs.'
Staring at the heraldry on the armor of one of the Dark Angels standing next to The Hydra, Arthur chuckled as he analyzed the hidden meaning.
The Hydra was currently making tentative proposals to the legion regarding a Recruitment Program, showcasing a degree of their control over the Imperial planetary governments in the sector. As long as Arthur gave the nod, a steady stream of qualified new recruits would be funneled directly into the Expeditionary Fleet.
The origin of the gene-seed, however, was another matter entirely.
The Hydra had been keeping a close watch on the Apothecarion formed by the Angels of Redemption, clearly intending to meddle in the Dark Angels' recruitment process.
He had recently been assisting Romulus with administrative affairs and possessed a clear understanding of the Expeditionary Fleet's financial backing and some of its deeper secrets. It was no surprise that he harbored such ambitions.
In this day and age, not even the Imperium itself could easily field a fully mechanized force composed of Stormbirds, Mastodon Super-heavy Transports, and various other super-heavy vehicles.
"This ship is certainly getting livelier by the day."
Watching the Dark Angels scatter after completing their meditation, The Hydra glanced around before finally clutching his documents and stepping into his office. Arthur turned and walked away.
"Bros!"
A few minutes after Arthur's departure, another voice rang out inside the Transmigrators' quarters.
Having finally dealt with the overly clingy Sons of the Angels, Karna, who could at last settle into his own little corner, pushed open the door.
"Your emperor has returned."
"Mhm."
"Yep."
The two still hard at work gave him token waves of their hands, signaling for Karna to go sit in a corner for now.
"What is with the long faces?"
With a wave of his hand, Karna arranged a pile of furniture and leaned in closer.
"We are searching for crucial planets within the T'au Empire, but we are worried about stumbling onto the worlds of their allied Xenos races."
Romulus explained as he looked up. The tip of his pen flew furiously across the parchment without pause, as if he were wielding a broom during a massive spring cleaning.
"Our goal is to secure the Undercurrent Module, then cross the Damocles Gulf to bring the fleet over there to reinforce Ultramar. We absolutely cannot afford to get bogged down."
They had a rough estimate of the T'au's actual combat power. The Vespid and similar races were manageable, but their other allied factions were a chaotic mix of monsters and demons. Heaven only knew what kind of nasty surprises they might have up their sleeves.
"Doesn't the timeline essentially not exist in The Warp?"
Karna plopped down into a seat.
"Theoretically, yes."
Rameses replied, handing a data slate over to Romulus.
"Then just go look up the Bork'an sept world. I remember that planet did not originally belong to the T'au, and there is no way the native inhabitants had weak psychic signatures."
Karna mumbled while gnawing on a chicken wing.
Bork'an. This sept world had once been the homeworld of an alien race known as the Poctroon, the very first alien allies assimilated by the T'au Empire during their early expansion.
However, the miraculous part was that shortly after the T'au began cohabitating with the Poctroon, the natives—who had lived peacefully on their homeworld for countless generations—suddenly went entirely extinct due to a mysterious, inexplicable plague.
Meanwhile, the local T'au just so happened to be completely immune to this exact disease. They remained perfectly unscathed from beginning to end and continued to proliferate across the planet.
This incident was even recorded within the depths of the Black Library.
"..."
Rameses immediately narrowed his lifeless eyes and glared at Romulus.
'Damn it, you led me right into a wild goose chase, overcomplicating a simple problem.'
'My poor Sprites!'
'You have no idea how hard it is to catch high-quality Sprites these days! The environment in The Warp is getting increasingly volatile, and it is becoming harder and harder to reach out for them.'
Lately, Vashtorr had also noticed something was amiss and started cracking down on him. He was even considering finding a new patron.
"Do not look at me, I honestly did not think of that."
Romulus rubbed the space between his eyebrows, a look of profound headache plastered across his face.
"There has just been too much on my plate lately. You know exactly how absurd and convoluted Imperium affairs can be."
"I know, but bro, whatever you do, please do not let them assimilate you."
Rameses sighed and extinguished the flame in his hand, then input the key query terms directly into The Warp.
Within The Enclave, the Daemons began working furiously under the absolute command of the Lord of the Formless and Faceless.
The randomized cullings that struck terror into the hearts of even the Daemons had finally come to an end.
For now, at least.
"Found it."
It was not long before Rameses opened his eyes.
At that exact moment, the planetary coordinates materialized on Romulus's processing terminal.
As long as the Warp signature was somewhat distinct, everything was a breeze.
"Excellent."
Romulus nodded, received the data, and immediately issued a rapid string of orders.
[Coordinates for the Xenos planet have been acquired. All ship Navigators are to immediately begin plotting the course.]
[Final rest and resupply period will last for thirty-nine Terran hours, after which the Expeditionary Fleet will set sail.]
[Begin the countdown, mark!]