Chapter 245: Preparing to Depart
The Inquisitor, in the end, said nothing. Unlike the operations that left traces in public records, the wars in which the Wardens of Steel participated were of such a sensitive nature that secrecy was the most basic principle.
Trazyn could only leave in disappointment. He began to wander among the monasteries of the various Chapter representatives, looking for a new opportunity to pry a few stories from the mouths of these silent warriors. After all, history should not only have heroes who stood in the light. The legends in the shadows were also worthy of being told.
He had considered using certain... less-than-conventional means. But those four Primarchs were too powerful, and greatly limited the flexibility of his historical collection measures. The only thing he knew for sure was that a large number of Astartes had returned with Arthur.
After leaving the reception hall, Trazyn stood in the shadows of the cloister, his metal fingers gently stroking his chin, observing the passing Chapter representatives—the solemnity of the Black Templars, the coldness of the Deathwatch, the eagerness of the Crimson Fists, the sharpness of the Executioners... Their armour was pristine, without a scratch, and they bore no marks of long campaigning. They were clearly not the ones who had returned from the war with Arthur.
Just then, a squad caught his eye. It was a battered force. Their crimson armour was covered in cracks, the golden trim peeling away at the battle-damaged areas. Every scar spoke of a brutal struggle.
"Greetings, may I ask—"
In a burst of excitement, Trazyn straightened his robes. He hadn't even approached them when he saw the leading Chapter Master walk up to him. This proactive gesture made him smile. But as the man drew closer, the smile froze on his face. Oh, the Lamenters?
Trazyn instantly lost interest. It was best to stay away from that unlucky Chapter. Not even the four could withstand their bad luck.
"..."
His greeting was left unfinished as he turned and walked away.
Malakim Phoros raised a hand from a distance, intending to return the greeting, but all he saw was the back of the hastily departing Magos. He looked down at his own battle-scarred pauldron, and as if understanding something, a bitter smile touched his lips, which eventually turned into a soft sigh.
The Carcharodons' Chief Librarian, Te Kahurangi, who was accompanying him, watched the Magos's near-fleeing retreat and immediately understood. But he still asked in a normal tone, "What's wrong?"
"...It's nothing," Phoros's gaze turned to his warriors. They had been surrounded by enthusiastic mortals and were patiently answering their curious questions. His expression softened, and he said to the clearly uncomfortable Te Kahurangi, "Thank you for your company. I can find my own way to the sanctum."
"My apologies, it's just that..." Te Kahurangi trailed off, but both of them knew.
The Lamenters' bad luck, after being observed by Ramesses and verified by the Aeldari advisors, was finally confirmed to be a kind of "exchange" in the warp. What exactly had happened during their "Cursed Founding" was long lost in the mists of history. The only thing that was certain was that their bloodline had, at the cost of unimaginable misfortune, gained a suppression of the Red Thirst, and had even, through some strange mutation, possessed an extraordinary conscience, which made the Black Rage extremely rare. This had once led the Mechanicus Magi of the time to mistakenly believe they had overcome the Blood Angels' curse. It was only after systematic research that those in the know truly understood what the Lamenters' bad luck meant.
And as one of the most powerful precognitive psykers in the Imperium, second only to Ezekiel and Tigurius, Te Kahurangi's discomfort was now written all over his face. Psykers were truly afraid of these guys. For a psyker, using their abilities was already like having to make a test roll every time you acted, which was already a killer. Now the Lamenters had come and given him a "roll twice and take the lower" debuff. It was simply fatal.
He didn't even know how the Lamenters' Librarians survived. Te Kahurangi had been extremely cautious ever since he had entered the star system. He hadn't dared to use a single psychic premonition.
"Yes, I understand," Phoros nodded slightly. He said nothing more and turned to leave, his crimson cloak swaying gently behind him.
These days, garrisoned in the Dawnlight Sector, had perhaps been the most comfortable time for the Lamenters Chapter since its founding. Although misfortune still followed them like a shadow, and the Chapter still frequently encountered fatal threats, with battle-brothers constantly falling on the battlefield and familiar faces disappearing one after another, here, someone understood them.
Their battle-brothers no longer looked at them with strange eyes, but had instead analyzed the curse that plagued their Chapter with a rigorous attitude, and had even, at necessary moments, utilized this strange ability. The Primarchs, moreover, had always stood behind them, firmly supporting the Lamenters' ideal path.
"What's wrong?" Pedro Kantor, now the Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists, asked, seeing his old friend, with whom he had been through the Dawn Crusade, looking like he had just survived a disaster. The previous Chapter Master had challenged Pedro to an honour duel, lost, and was now happily serving as the First Company Captain, carrying the Crusade's sacred standard. He had almost managed to make off with the sacred gauntlets that had been won during the Dawn Crusade as well. This time, Pedro had come to the Dawnlight Sector and had just visited Barabas Dantioch with his own Ancient, and was now being kicked out.
"Nothing. Just感慨 that the Lamenters are still the Lamenters. Although their equipment has changed, their style and their bad luck are still the same," Te Kahurangi couldn't help but sigh. "The last time we saw them was three years ago, on the edge of the Ghoul Stars. We had caught a medium-sized Hive Fleet. The Black Templars, the Mortifactors, the Iron Knights, and the Lamenters had all responded. Those guys are really unlucky."
The Chief Librarian sighed, as if exasperated by the Lamenters' bad luck. "It was supposed to be a joint operation. Because the Lamenters' fleet and equipment were good enough, the other Chapters had assigned them to defend a rear-echelon star system, so that if any of the other Chapters encountered the main Hive Fleet, they could get support the fastest. Then, for some reason, the main Hive Fleet chose to take a detour. So they ran straight into them. And we were supposed to be providing support, but for some reason, our fleet's warp-engines had a series of problems, which delayed our arrival by three months. If not for their good equipment, they would have been wiped out."
Pedro's mouth twitched. Although Te Kahurangi's account sounded plausible, his reason still told him that to attribute such a complex battlefield variable entirely to a single Chapter's "bad luck" was a bit too rash.
But Te Kahurangi had already seen through Pedro's thoughts. "Do you know why all the Chapters have a sanctum on Dawnstar, and why the Lamenters are using the identity of the Crimson Paladins, one of the Primarch's own guard units?"
"Aren't they Lord Karna's honour guard?" Pedro couldn't help but frown, a hint of confusion in his eyes.
To be honest, as a son of Dorn, Pedro had always been quite jealous. His gaze unconsciously drifted to the other side of the hall, where several members of the Angels Encarmine, selected from the Flesh Tearers Chapter, were in conversation with a mortal official. Their radiant aura was a world away from their previous "let's all die with the world" state. The Angels are one thing. But even Guilliman and the Lion, who were nowhere to be found during the Siege of Terra, have their counterparts. Even... Magnus, that traitor! Why not our gene-father?!
Pedro's fist unconsciously clenched, the servos of his power armour protesting softly. It wasn't that these four Primarchs were bad. They treated all of them with equal care. It was just... so infuriatingly jealous. Especially the Ultramarines! If not for the good relationship between the Crimson Fists and the Ultramarines, he would have been cursing them like his other Second Founding brothers. They got to reap the fruits of victory in 30k, and now they have two Primarchs in 40k. They get all the good things!
The Carcharodons, who had never really cared about the "father or not" issue, didn't have this problem. Four Primarchs, not their real father, but better than their real father. Since they had followed the Dawnbreakers, they had never been short on food or clothing.
Faced with the indignant Pedro, Te Kahurangi waited a moment. As the star-ring slowly rotated in its orbit, through the huge observation window, a blue planet was gradually revealed—that was Pierdra, located between Dawnstar and the forge world of Mars Secundus. Mars Secundus was the planet that had been created in the likeness of Mars in the Pioneer system, and had now been converted into a forge world by the Archmagos. Its production capacity was secondary; with A.I. assistance, it could be maintained at a very high efficiency. Its main purpose was to train qualified technicians for the sector.
"You recognize that planet, right?"
"Of course," Pedro nodded. Although he didn't know much about the reason why Pierdra had now become an ocean world, he would never mistake the Eternal Torch that stood on the planet's surface. It was the sacred flame lit to commemorate humanity's victory in war.
"Five years ago, the Primarchs planned to move this planet into the system and have the Lamenters handle the local population transfer. And during the transfer, they ran into a Deathskulls Ork Warlord who had also taken over a space hulk in the warp."
"?" Pedro couldn't help but frown.
"At that time, the entire Pioneer system was sealed off. It took the Primarchs more than half a month to end the incident," Te Kahurangi explained.
Pedro's expression froze.
"Of course, the result was a good one," Te Kahurangi shrugged. "After all, if not for the Lamenters' bad luck running into this Ork Warlord, and the Primarchs dealing with the incident, then to let such a space hulk that could randomly enter and exit the warp into the Dawnlight Sector... the losses would have been immeasurable."
He then looked at Pedro and said seriously, "So you know why I'm afraid of the Lamenters. They are good men, and excellent warriors. You can see from the Primarchs' attitude that these warriors are the ones who best fit their values. But if your own luck isn't strong enough, you have to be careful when traveling with them."
Te Kahurangi looked at their retreating backs. The Primarchs were now on a long journey to the Eye of Terror. The warp influence there was strong. With the Primarchs' cautious nature of not adding to their own difficulties, they probably wouldn't take them. The Dawnlight Sector was the Primarchs' personal domain. Now that they were short on a rapid reaction force, they probably wouldn't let them stay here either. Most likely, they would be sent to some warzone to provide support.
Good news: you will be supported by an extremely generous, wealthy, and powerful Chapter.
Bad news: the Lamenters are coming. Get ready for a real war!
Thinking of this, Te Kahurangi couldn't help but smile. He wondered which unlucky soul was about to get unlucky.
"So what are the Carcharodons doing here? It's not their supply period, is it?"
After settling the retired Cadians, Romulus took a quiet walk around the starport before coming to the First Imperium Starport. This place was completely off-limits to the outside world. Especially the part controlled by the Wardens of Steel. The secret research and military activities conducted there were all strictly confidential. Unauthorized personnel were forbidden.
Faced with Arthur, who smelled of blood, Romulus was at first at a loss. He raised a hand and rubbed his temples, then asked, "By the way, why did you approve so much supplies for them? The personnel coordination on my end is very time-consuming."
'It's been twenty years,' Arthur thought, looking up at the flashing hololithic projections, constantly receiving reports. A complex emotion flickered in his eyes. He unconsciously tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, and then synced all the information.
Arthur's range of activity within the sector was large, even larger than Karna's. So aside from reporting his safety to his companions through Ramesses, he could only report his activities in person after they were over. He then said in a low voice, "We have to leave. The Lamenters can't stay."
From an emotional standpoint, they all liked the Lamenters. But from a rational standpoint, for the stability of the sector, the Lamenters absolutely could not stay in the Dawnlight Sector. In the past ten years, the Lamenters had been stationed on the northernmost watch-fortress world of the Dawnlight Sector. It was a place that was constantly shrouded in a purple aurora, influenced by the warp, and was a hotbed for various incursion incidents.
The usual stuff, like Tyranids and Orks, was a given. Not long after the Lamenters had been stationed there, a Necron dynasty, hidden in a pocket dimension, had awakened on the watch-fortress. He had asked Trazyn about it and found it was a world under the Sautekh Dynasty. Imotekh the Stormlord was a member of this dynasty. Most of them were still stuck in the War in Heaven era, all of them battle-maniacs. And with their exceptional combat prowess, they were one of the most dangerous Necron factions for humanity. And the result was obvious. A big fight.
Similar incidents were not uncommon, but with the Dawnlight Sector government's reaction time, and Arthur often personally handling the clean-up, everything was still within a controllable range. It could be said that they had made an exceptional contribution to the prosperity and stability of the other regions of the Dawnlight Sector. As long as you kept an eye on the Lamenters, something was bound to happen.
Back when they were moving Pierdra, Ramesses had a feeling something bad was going to happen, but he could never pinpoint the source. So, in a flash of inspiration, he had suddenly thought of having the Lamenters garrison Pierdra and evacuate the personnel first. And sure enough, after the population transfer was complete, when Archmagos Cawl was moving the planet, they had run into the Deathskulls. The opposition was unusually tough. Orks from a space hulk are a different breed. Fortunately, the hulk had crashed into the planet. He didn't even want to think about what would have happened if they had actually gotten into the sector.
"So you're planning—" Romulus pointed to the Carcharodons' monastery outside the window.
"Yes. The Ghoul Stars are a complex situation. Imperial power there is weak. And the Carcharodons can be trusted," Arthur nodded. To put it bluntly, the Maelstrom, Baal, and Macragge were too important. It wasn't good to bring disaster to them. It was better to throw them into the Ghoul Stars. At the very least, the losses from the large-scale melee caused by their bad luck would be much smaller. And conversely, if someone was carrying the burden, it meant that other regions would have an easier time.
"That's true. It's right to give them more. Give them two more years of production from Mars Secundus as well. I'll write a note later," Romulus said, sincerely approving of Arthur's decision. He had thought this would be a difficult matter. To say it out loud would easily hurt their feelings. He had been planning to have Karna use his charm on them. He hadn't expected Arthur to have already made the arrangements.
"Good," Arthur said, his face still a mask, and nodded again. To create an atmosphere of equality in front of the Dark Angels, to satisfy the vanity of these Astartes, the two of them had gone to great lengths.
With that, Arthur turned to leave, to see the old warriors.
"Wait!"
Arthur turned, surprised. "Speak."
Romulus looked at the report, at the string of familiar names, and was taken aback. "What's with this Azrael? And this Belial, and this Sammael—" It can't be them, can it?! He didn't speak, but pointed at the report, his meaning clear.
"It is," Arthur nodded.
"No, this..." Romulus looked at the report in his hand, about the difficulty of infiltrating the Dark Angels' Inner Circle and the need for more resources. He then looked at the names of the "Broken Wing" brothers that the Wardens of Steel had developed.
Azrael, who had taken over as the Dark Angels' Chapter Master in the early 900s.M41.
Belial, who had joined the Dark Angels at almost the same time as Azrael, and was a rival.
Sammael, the future Grand Master of the Ravenwing of the Dark Angels, the one who, in the original timeline, had used a stasis bomb on the White Scars, a First Founding Chapter, to keep a secret.
Romulus's gaze went back and forth between Arthur and the file several times.
You call this 'difficulty infiltrating'?
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