Chapter 209: Restraint, Communication, Consensus |
"During this period, we have intervened in the administrative affairs of the Ultramar Segmentum. On one hand, this was to provide support for the upcoming reconstruction efforts, and on the other, to investigate and address any underlying issues."
The flat voice of the Administratum representative, Amotarion, echoed before the Shrine of the Heroes of Macragge.
The towering monument was engraved with the heroic names of countless Ultramarines, gleaming with a cold metallic luster under the starlight.
A gentle breeze swept past, carrying the distant shouts from the training grounds, yet it failed to dispel the slightly stiff atmosphere between the two men.
"However, upon completing our investigation, we found that the Primarch's wisdom is more than sufficient to handle all manner of thorny issues. The functions our investigative delegation could perform have been entirely replaced, and executed far better—"
Amotarion paused for a moment, then spoke again to the Chapter Master, whose face still bore a trace of pallor and who relied on his armor's built-in life support systems just to remain active.
"But according to Lord Romulus, they will eventually leave. Terra, however, hopes that the wisdom of the four Primarchs can radiate across even more territories."
"Therefore, I wish to recommend Lord Romulus to temporarily govern the affairs of the Greater Ultramar Segmentum. I wonder if you would be interested in this proposal?"
Calgar frowned imperceptibly.
"..."
Calgar took a deep breath, the pump chambers within his chest emitting the mechanical clatter of churning gears.
Ever since the battle that nearly claimed his life, both of his hearts had been completely destroyed. The Apothecaries of the Ultramarines had urgently cultivated replacement organs, barely managing to sustain his life.
When Archmagos Cawl later arrived for an inspection and saw these temporary measures, he was furious, mercilessly reprimanding them for using such unorthodox methods.
Now, the Apothecaries of the Ultramarines had been reassigned to train under the Wings of Dawn. Until they returned from their systematic education, Calgar could only continue relying on this life-support equipment, enduring the sluggish, mechanical drag of every breath.
'Primaris Space Marine surgery,' he pondered.
The thought lingered in his mind, refusing to fade.
The war against the Tyranid Hive Fleet had made him acutely aware that the Ultramarines, and indeed the entire Imperium, were about to face an unprecedented threat.
Yet, whether it was to uphold the legal authority of the Codex Astartes or to placate the conservative factions within the Chapter whose beliefs bordered on religious zealotry, attempting any reforms before Lord Guilliman awakened would be exceedingly difficult.
Not long ago, after bidding farewell to the Expeditionary Fleet, Calgar had proposed the formation of Tyrannic War Veterans during a Chapter council meeting. It would be an elite force dedicated to studying and combating the Tyranid Hive Fleet in preparation for larger-scale invasions in the future.
However, the voices of the conservatives had immediately drowned out his proposal.
Therefore, the popularization of a surgical procedure capable of stably increasing the Combat Power of the Adeptus Astartes was absolutely imperative.
Research into modification surgeries was being conducted secretly by Apothecaries in almost every Space Marine Chapter, but because most of these experiments were somewhat unorthodox or heretical, they were not suitable for public discussion.
And the Primaris Space Marine surgery...
Calgar had reviewed the entire proposal from start to finish and deeply understood its value.
Two sets of enhanced biological organs and a set of mechanical implants used to coordinate the previous twenty-one surgical procedures. This system not only comprehensively improved a warrior's physiological functions, but more importantly, every step of the modification was backed by rigorous scientific evidence, unlike the bizarre tweaks conducted in secret by certain Space Marine Chapters.
Chapters like the Black Templars had already fully integrated it with remarkable results.
With these precedents in place, the resistance within the Chapter should be significantly smaller.
Because of this, Calgar's own organ repair surgery had been delayed time and time again.
He had to be the first among the Ultramarines to undergo the modification, leading by example to dispel the doubts of the conservatives.
Fortunately, the performance of the new Mark X power armor far exceeded previous models. Even though his body had not fully recovered, the armor's enhancement systems could compensate for his weakness.
However, being unable to remove the armor for extended periods still made him extremely uncomfortable.
It had been a very long time since he was last able to step into the hot springs of Macragge.
"My lord?"
Seeing that Calgar seemed a bit distracted, Amotarion asked politely.
"Apologies, Lord Amotarion, but I have no interest in this matter."
Calgar snapped back to reality. After a moment of brief contemplation, he still rejected the Administratum representative's proposal.
He certainly wished that Lord Romulus could stay. Aside from certain cousins shrouded in secrecy, no Space Marine Chapter would ever refuse the presence and guidance of a Primarch.
But Ultramar was ultimately Roboute Guilliman's domain, the soil where the bloodline of the Thirteenth Legion had taken root.
Romulus could control and reform the Sector through certain measures, but if he became bogged down in a territory that already had a master, there was no doubt he would be constrained by countless rules and regulations. Furthermore, there would always be the barrier of Guilliman standing between him and Ultramar.
Putting himself in the other's shoes, Calgar believed this would be completely unacceptable for an ambitious Politician.
Just as Amotarion had said, the wisdom of a Primarch far surpassed that of Mortals, and even that of the Adeptus Astartes.
Since that was the case, what right did Calgar have to make decisions on Romulus's behalf?
"May I know the reason?"
Amotarion's voice carried a hint of inquiry.
"The Gene-Primarch of the Ultramarines still exists in this world, Your Excellency."
Calgar raised his hand, pointing to the mag-lev vehicles parked by the side of the road.
Those streamlined government-issued transport cabs were neatly arranged, their bodies bearing the insignia of the Ultramar Administratum.
"You only need to spend thirteen credits to hail a government cab and travel to the Hera Fortress to bask in his glory, and you do not even need an admission ticket."
Guilliman's existence was not merely a symbol, but the very cornerstone of Ultramar's laws and order.
Even though he now slumbered, his will still flowed through this star system, engraved on every monument, every decree, and within the genes of every warrior.
From beginning to end, Ultramar had always been a territory that belonged to someone.
"I see..."
Amotarion pondered for a moment.
During this period, he had communicated with quite a few Space Marine Chapters, including the Black Templars and the Nemesis Chapter.
He could only say that the results were far from ideal.
The zealots of the Black Templars were rather indifferent to all this. They had already left behind an Expeditionary Fleet and certainly would not leave until the Primarch forced them to.
Meanwhile, the Nemesis Chapter even planned to directly relocate into Ultramar and select a homeworld, because they genuinely believed deep down that the Ultramarines were somewhat unreliable.
The Blood Angels, on the other hand, were far too obedient, insisting on consulting Karna about absolutely everything.
"My lord."
An accompanying Administratum aide whispered a reminder.
"There are thirteen minutes until your next meeting."
Amotarion remained silent for a second, then shook his head.
"Decline it—no, I will personally visit to apologize."
"?"
Several accompanying officials from other departments exchanged bewildered glances, and one of them even instinctively furrowed his brow.
Amotarion noticed their reactions. His gaze swept over Calgar before he calmly explained,
"Since several First Founding Chapters and members of their Second Foundings have declined, there is nothing more to discuss."
"You are all supposedly perceptive individuals. The Adeptus Astartes are extensions of the Primarchs' will, and their status will inevitably rise in the future. We are well aware of the filthy corruption festering in the various Sectors. Do you truly believe those local governors can perform better than the Primarchs?"
In truth, the Administratum's line of reasoning was crystal clear.
First, the Imperium's constitution had been proven perfect over ten thousand years of history. Any attempt to alter it was a betrayal of The Emperor Himself.
Second, taxation.
Beyond those two points, all other matters were merely secondary conveniences.
If an attempt failed, they would let it go. It was nowhere near important enough to risk offending the Primarchs by forcing the issue.
The changes brought by the Primarchs were positive, a fact that even the conservatives could not deny. Therefore, it was crucial to carefully manage the boundaries of their interactions.
Some things could be done, and some things could not.
Only in this way would the Primarchs not be alienated from the Imperium.
Although Amotarion did not know exactly what the Primarchs intended to do by enhancing the Imperium's logistical and military strength.
But since the other party had no intention of marching on Terra to seize power, there was no need for the High Lords to act like startled cats and treat every initiative as a hostile threat.
Politics is the art of compromise.
"Look at Huron, and then look at the four Primarchs. Which side do you think we should place our trust in?"
Ultimately, as entities wielding immense influence, the existence of the Wings of Dawn provided the High Lords of Terra with a great deal of reassurance.
They were loyal, restrained, willing to pay taxes, incredibly capable, and excellent in both combat and governance. They were practically a high-tier combination of Macarius and the hero Malcador.
How could the High Lords treat such beings as enemies before they ever actually made a move against Terra?
If that day came, it would not be something that could be resolved through the kind of political squabbling they were engaging in now.
"Until the authority of the Throne World is truly infringed upon, we have no reason to reject the friendship of the Primarchs. We will not create an enemy out of thin air. Do you understand my meaning?"
His gaze swept over the accompanying officials. The bureaucrats who had previously looked bewildered now lowered their heads one by one, silently expressing their submission.
Amotarion finally looked back at Calgar, offering a bow in the manner of Nobles.
"Thank you for your response, Chapter Master Calgar."
Without any superfluous pleasantries, the Administratum representative turned on his heel and strode away.
His entourage immediately followed, their synchronized footsteps gradually fading into the distance across the plaza.
Calgar stood in place, watching as they boarded a shuttle parked not far away. The roar of its engines soon tore through the tranquil skies of Macragge.
Peace returned to the monument once more. Only the eternal wind brushed against the metallic surface engraved with countless heroic names, letting out a faint, mournful whistle.
Calgar looked up at the statue of Guilliman. The Primarch's majestic figure, wielding a power sword, gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight.
Calgar withdrew his gaze from Guilliman's statue and turned toward a figure standing quietly before the monument.
The black and red power armor exuded a dark, somber sheen under the sun, like congealed blood and the night sky.
That knight had been standing there the entire time, as if he were an intrinsic part of the monument itself.
"It seems he has passed the test?"
Calgar asked.
"Those who fail the test don't get the chance to walk before us."
Arthur tilted his head slightly.
Beside Arthur, a seemingly ordinary Ultramar civil servant maintained a respectful posture, but Calgar knew that it was nothing more than the flawless disguise of a Callidus Assassin.
It was perfectly normal for members of the Officio Assassinorum to slip into the Terran delegation, likely more than just one. After all, an investigative group always needed certain special methods to handle peculiar problems.
Similarly, the authorities on Terra also needed to ensure that the delegation itself did not become a new problem.
This delicate system of checks and balances was precisely the foundation upon which the Imperium had operated for ten thousand years.
The Officio Assassinorum already had an independent channel of communication with the Wings of Dawn. With Aglaia as a witness, both sides had long since reached a general consensus on a series of plans.
To put it bluntly, the purpose of this meeting was to establish a consensus. Neither side's demands were aimed at starting a war.
Anyone truly looking to stir up trouble wasn't worthy of coming before them to pollute their eyes.
Subsequently, Arthur handed a storage casket containing a gene-seed to Calgar.
"My apologies. Due to my identity, I'm afraid I cannot prepare a sufficiently solemn ceremony for him."
This was the final legacy of the Ultramarines Apothecary who had fought one against eight, only falling when Arthur's reinforcements finally arrived.
Arthur had never forgotten to return the gene-seed he left behind.
The breeze across the plaza swept past, rustling up a few fallen leaves that spiraled down between the two men.
Now, only he remained.
"Your very presence allows our deeds to shine with brilliance."
Calgar accepted the casket with the utmost solemnity.
"Sifris did not disgrace his surname, and I swear that the Ultramarines will select the most outstanding warrior to carry on this honored history."
Gage. This surname traced all the way back to the founding of the Ultramarines Legion, to Marius Gage, the Master of the Legion.
He had been the second most powerful figure in Ultramar after Guilliman himself, and also served as the very first Chapter Master of the Ultramarines.
As a Terran-born member, Marius left no descendants on Macragge, but this did not stop the people of Ultramar from changing their own surnames out of reverence for his deeds.
Such a cultural practice was incredibly common among the people of Ultramar.
After all, even Calgar had taken his surname from a close friend who had perished during the Adeptus Astartes trials.
Despite the various exaggerated legends circulating among the populace, the truth was actually much simpler. Calgar was not born a serf as the rumors claimed, nor was his past as thrilling and dramatic as the stories suggested.
"Every warrior who fights for humanity is worthy of respect."
Arthur looked back at the towering monument.
Calgar maintained his solemn posture, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over the several ceremonial longswords displayed beside the monument's base.
These purely handcrafted weapons were meticulously and neatly forged. Only when illuminated by the sunlight did they inadvertently reveal their dazzling splendor, brimming with an understated elegance.
This Primarch was incredibly mysterious. He either lingered in the shadows to watch over the safety of the visiting students, or, after confirming there were no threats on Macragge, spent almost all his remaining time here, silently gazing at the monument.
"Once the discussions with the Administratum conclude, there will be a representative meeting for the Adeptus Astartes."
"Yes."
Calgar nodded, then asked, "And Lord Romulus?"
"I am responsible for military affairs, which proceed in tandem with Romulus's administrative duties."
A flash of realization passed through Calgar's eyes.
'This one is the Warmaster,' he realized.
"Understood!"