Chapter 172: Astral Claws |
The massive fleet swiftly divided upon entering the Ultramar Segmentum.
Some needed to gather information across various sectors, some had to reinforce neighboring planets, while others were dispatched to vulnerable points in the defensive line, serving as supplementary forces to guard against any Tyranid Swarm incursions.
The Wings of Dawn did not disperse.
Taking heed of the lessons from the Primarchs and a series of historical precedents, splitting the core faction was by no means a good idea in this universe.
Even Fulgrim and Ferrus, who had a relationship so close they practically shared a single pair of trousers, turned on each other under the influence of Chaos. Naturally, the Transmigrators remained vigilant against any such potential corruption.
And the best way to prevent such influence was, naturally, to avoid exposing any weaknesses.
For instance, as things stood now, they could privately seek each other out for any issue, cross-check any doubts in a timely manner, and occasionally retreat to their private space to chat and envision the future.
Everyone was highly satisfied and well-adapted to this arrangement, with no desire to change such a comfortable atmosphere.
Unless the situation deteriorated to a point where separation was absolutely mandatory, the four of them had no interest in testing the limits of their friendship; instead, they chose to safeguard it.
Acting as the command center, they needed to lead the scattered Expeditionary Fleet—which followed them like a school of fish trailing a whale—driving from north to south to reclaim the eastern territories of the Ultramar Segmentum. This would compress the Hive Fleet's operational space and force the enemy into a decisive battle.
Anyone familiar with the Tyranid Swarm knew how rapidly they could replenish their numbers. If the enemy were truly allowed to consume the hundreds of planets in the eastern sector, there was no telling how massively the swarm would inflate.
Fortunately, the Imperium held the naval advantage. As long as they did not make any foolish blunders, systematically eradicating the swarm on each planet was only a matter of time.
——
One month later, 744.M41-1002
Karna entered the office with dark circles under his eyes, greeting Romulus, who had been sitting at the desk for who knew how long:
"Good morning. How is the situation?"
He had been pushing himself to the point of exhaustion lately. With their fleet expanding, he constantly had to make public appearances among the citizens and monitor their living conditions. While seeing their lives improve brought him joy, the fatigue was incredibly real.
He honestly could not fathom how his companion could function like a machine for years on end, enduring ever-increasing workloads without showing a hint of strain.
A rare smile tugged at the corners of Romulus's mouth, his face still bearing the flush of abundant energy beneath the overhead lights.
"Excellent. Before our arrival, the Maelstrom formation led by the Astral Claws, with assistance from the Mortifactors Chapter, had already established a support network for the surrounding sectors. Refugees are currently being collected and distributed here, which allows us to deduce the disaster conditions on the various planets."
Karna leaned closer to the report, making a show of inspecting it carefully.
"Indeed."
His innate sharpness had already grasped the full picture. Karna nodded and replied:
"As expected of Huron, always arriving exactly when needed. Capable individuals truly cannot be suppressed, no matter where they are."
Romulus offered a sound of agreement.
"This makes our work much easier to roll out. By the way, have the prisoners been sent to the Cat's Nest?"
Another batch of Alphas had arrived on the ship, but before Arthur could collect them, they were intercepted by a Space Wolves squad that had participated in the Damocles Gulf campaign.
The Space Wolves still maintained their original Legion structure.
Aside from the Great Hunts—where the vast majority of the Chapter's strength would gather every few decades under the Great Wolf's command for a concentrated strike against a specific target—the Wolves were scattered across the galaxy, much like the Black Templars. It was quite easy to spot them within an Expeditionary Fleet.
It was not strange at all for the Damocles Expeditionary Force to have this bunch tagging along.
"They have already been stuffed into a shuttle and hauled away. Additionally, the Space Wolves' interrogation of the Alphas has come to an end."
Romulus looked slightly surprised by the response and asked:
"Did they talk?"
The Wolf-Pups would not easily give up their prey, especially when facing the Dark Angels and Ultramarines.
One was considered a frenemy and rival, while the other elicited a pure, physiological disgust stemming from Roboute Guilliman.
"No, they were beaten so badly it triggered their sus-an membranes. We just managed to resuscitate them. The Dark Angels marched straight over, cursed them out, and demanded the prisoners be handed over to the Ravenwing immediately so the professionals could handle it. They even sent a Deathwing to knock all those Wolf-Pups flat."
Karna chuckled as he recalled the dozen or so Space Wolves squatting and sulking like a pack of defeated golden retrievers.
Makes sense.
Romulus nodded.
"So where are they now? Did they go back?"
"They went back, but they were beaten into boneless chicken tenders. Arthur had to run over and personally perform the Primaris surgery just to save their lives."
The surrounding Invincible Iron Guard kept their faces perfectly stiff.
For some reason, their instincts told them it was incredibly difficult to keep a straight face when hearing such words come out of Karna's mouth.
Just as Karna finished speaking, Rameses walked into the office.
"Reports, reports, hurry up! By the way, what are you guys talking about?"
He reached out, asking Romulus for the unfiled reports, then noticed the expressions on their faces and asked curiously.
Dracus glanced at Romulus, who was busy exchanging data, and stiffly repeated what Karna had just said.
Rameses burst into laughter, his hearty voice instantly dispelling the silence in the office.
"Ah, how could you leave me out of something so fun?"
He looked disappointed, then proceeded to have the Aeldari within The Enclave start transmitting messages.
The Aeldari's psychic communication methods were far more reliable than those of Astropaths, though hardware remained an issue. Currently, only Space Marine Librarians and dual-discipline psykers specializing in biomancy and divination could learn it.
But it was ultimately far more effective.
Although there was still some latency, the Expeditionary Fleet finally no longer had to rely on a high-latency first-person operating system to compete against the Hive Mind's zero-latency, full-map overhead view on the Star Map.
"Right, do you want me to have the Wolves stir up a bit more trouble? I heard from Arthur that as the number of Alphas on his end grows, they have started focusing their efforts on infiltrating the upper echelons and Apothecary ranks, and their work enthusiasm is not very high anymore."
Karna suggested.
"That works."
Romulus nodded. By letting those Wolves loose on the Silent Vow to engage in a bit of emotional exchange, those Alphas would naturally come running toward the Dawnlight.
The Invincible Iron Guard deeply agreed.
It was worth noting that the development rights for the Northern Gulf Sector were currently in the hands of the Wings of Dawn. After all, they were the only ones who knew the stable Warp Routes. As the Expeditionary Fleet continued its campaign, administrative affairs would only pile up over time.
The Sons of Dorn and the Dark Angels were completely unreliable, leaving them with no choice but to squeeze dry the labor of the Alphariuses.
When the time came, they could hand out buckets of blue and gold paint. A quick coat, and they could join the Wings of Expansion. Continuing to linger around the Dark Angels sounded suspiciously like a death wish to end up in a Dreadnought.
Aside from the very few Alphariuses who explicitly knew what they were doing and remained loyal to humanity, the Dark Angels harbored zero goodwill toward the other Alphas. Even if they were untainted by Chaos, they were still guaranteed to be tormented.
"I will go make the arrangements. This will definitely be entertaining."
Rameses was full of enthusiasm.
"Go ahead."
Romulus agreed.
"Just do not forget to send out the message first."
"Got it."
Rameses waved his hand.
"Then I will be taking my leave as well. Still have to go show my face."
Karna rubbed his face. The look of a man suffering a nervous breakdown from brutal overtime vanished, instantly replaced by a radiant glow of vitality.
"Alright, thank you for your hard work."
Karna waved and disappeared at the end of the corridor.
Even though Romulus's system interface and Rameses's Warp Enclave meant the four of them theoretically had no need for these offline interactions, none of them displayed any impatience with the routine.
It was a habit.
A habit they had maintained ever since they first met.
Romulus noted the system prompt in his field of vision, then opened an Astropathic communication channel.
"Connect to Calth."
——
Calth.
As a vital industrial Planet within the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, Calth was imbued with extraordinary significance during the Word Bearers' invasion ten thousand years ago.
At that time, the Word Bearers entered Calth's orbit under the guise of joint military exercises. They then launched a sudden attack, obliterating the Ultramarines' fleet and blockading the planet.
The Ultramarines mounted a stubborn resistance on the ground, but the Word Bearers utilized Warp sorcery and Daemons for support, turning the war into a horrific bloodbath. Some Ultramarines were forced to retreat into underground facilities to continue the fight. While the war did not last long, it inflicted exceedingly severe trauma upon the Ultramarines.
Although Calth had since been rebuilt, for ten thousand years, the Ultramarines had never forgotten the humiliation suffered there.
To serve as a warning of past lessons, and out of a need to protect Calth, the planet's planetary defense system was forged to be as impenetrable as iron. Five planetary fortresses hovered in the outer orbit as the core, making this location a peerless military stronghold.
——
In The Void, several Stormbirds and a massive number of heavy transport craft entered the Starfort's orbit.
They wove through the dense transport fleets choking the space outside the port, heading straight for the fortress-monastery that served as the garrison for the Maelstrom joint forces.
Above the monastery, the battle standards of the Astral Claws, Mantis Warriors, and Lamenters fluttered against the artificial winds.
Meanwhile, inside the Stormbird, Romulus and the others received a transmission from the Astral Claws:
"Inquisitor Aglaia, the Chapter Master has agreed to meet with you. We will conduct the reception ceremony in Sector A21."
The tone of the Astartes over the comms was somewhat stiff, harboring an instinctual repulsion toward Inquisitors as a whole.
Aglaia did not mind the hostile tone. At this moment, she was far more concerned with news of her private estate.
The agri-world Asteria had lost contact shortly after transmitting its initial distress signal, and that planet was located near Calth.
"Acknowledged. I only hope to proceed with the handover swiftly."
"Understood."
The other party abruptly cut the transmission, acting highly discourteous.
"..."
Which genius from the Maelstrom had stirred up this mess for her?
Aglaia was quite perplexed, though not overly anxious.
She looked up.
At this moment, aside from her and the Inquisition Guard, four figures with distinctly different auras sat motionless within the quiet cabin.
They were the Transmigrators, who had decided to tag along for this meeting just to take a look.
Sensing her gaze, Arthur gave the Inquisitor a slight nod. He was here to catch Alphas.
As a distribution hub, a single glance at the ships clogging Calth's various Starports was enough to prove that this place had no shortage of Alphas, nor the Fallen Angels who had flocked here upon hearing the news.
Karna and Rameses merely waved with cheerful smiles. The two of them were purely here to join the fun, using their free time to gawk at a famous figure of the Warhammer universe.
Romulus, meanwhile, kept his head down, still revising documents. To him, any place was a functional office.
Just what kind of person was this Lufgt Huron to actually warrant the attention of these four esteemed lords?
Aglaia's face reflected her confusion, an expression she wore until the Stormbird landed and the hatch opened.
"Lord Huron is waiting for you."
Seeing that the Inquisitor did not immediately step forward after leaving the cabin, but instead seemed to be waiting for something, the Astartes officer responsible for receiving her stiffly urged her on.
He truly harbored a deep dislike for Inquisitors, especially after his original Chapter had suffered heavy casualties during a Crusade of Penance. After completing the crusade, his Chapter Master had traveled to Terra to seek justice, only to disappear completely.
These fiends who threw their weight around using borrowed authority were genuinely repulsive in their actions.
This bitter sentiment lasted only until four towering figures stepped out of the cabin, accompanied by a relentless stream of heavy vehicles and assorted weaponry offloading from the transport ship.
For a moment, the Astartes officer fell into absolute silence.
"Greetings. How should I address you?"
Aglaia tilted her head up slightly, her voice carrying an impeccable degree of politeness.
"Andal Skarran."
The Astartes officer replied quickly.
Aglaia's eyes glinted with a hint of thought as she swiftly scanned his file in her mind. Unsurprisingly, she managed to pluck a thread of discord from her intelligence network.
Fragments of memory flashed by like data streams, ultimately locking onto a marginalized piece of intelligence: the Tiger Claws Chapter, a Crusade of Penance, and a successor Chapter built upon the gene-seed tithes of the Astral Claws.
The corners of her lips tightened almost imperceptibly for a brief second.
This Chapter Master Huron truly had enormous gall.
Harboring members of a successor Chapter assigned to a Crusade of Penance was something that could be ignored if kept under the radar. But if brought under scrutiny, no one short of a First Founding Chapter could ever shield them from the fallout.
"Ah, greetings, warrior of the Astral Claws."
The Inquisitor smiled, deliberately emphasizing her words.
Andal Skarran instantly broke into a cold sweat. He even began calculating whether he could permanently silence this Inquisitor right under the noses of those four imposing lords who instilled such instinctual awe within him.
Two could play at the game of intimidation.
Aglaia genuinely needed assistance and would not be stingy with her rewards, but that did not mean she was a pushover.
"These four lords are the leaders of the Expeditionary Fleet. Please ask Chapter Master Huron to come and welcome them."
Seeing that her intimidation had hit its mark, Aglaia did not press the issue, speaking with crisp authority.
However, to her surprise, the moment her words faded, a Space Marine clad in Terminator Power Armor strode forward.
Heavy boot soles met the adamantium deck, emitting deep, resounding thuds.
The surface of this Terminator Power Armor—passed down since the Chapter's founding—was etched with ancient battle scars and scriptures. Its massive pauldrons obscured half the wearer's field of vision, making his frame look preternaturally robust.
As he removed his helmet, the subtle shift in cabin airflow scattered the machine-oil-scented sweat from his brow.
A rugged, slightly swarthy face was revealed. Beneath a heavy brow, his eyes gleamed like quenched blades—calm, yet radiating a razor-sharp edge.
"I am Lufgt Huron."
His voice was deep and resonant, textured like the gravelly aftermath of countless battlefield roars.
"Welcome, Lord Romulus, Lord Arthur."
As he spoke, a restrained arc pulled at the corners of his mouth. The overhead spotlights threw his facial features into stark relief. The smile was not overly enthusiastic, but it carried an undeniable certainty—as if every variable was already well within his absolute control.
Such profound confidence naturally instilled a sense of instinctive favor among those around him.
Finally, Huron lowered his gaze to the Inquisitor, who stood far below his towering height.
His eyelids half-drooped as he cast a look from the deep shadows of his prominent brow ridge. It was a gaze that maintained courtesy, yet bore the unmistakable weight of a condescending appraisal.
"Welcome to you as well, Inquisitor Aglaia."