"Great Wolf, allow me a word."
Storming forward came Krom Dragongaze, Wolf Lord and Dragon Slayer. Logan nodded, giving silent permission to speak. Krom looked around at everyone in the hall, then spoke in a low voice:
"In recent wars, Fenris' wolf packs have suffered the greatest losses in millennia. If we cannot strengthen the pack with new blood in time, we may be annihilated in the next major war due to too few survivors. In the future, the nine founding chapters may become eight."
Before Castaller's Torchbearer fleet arrived, Krom Dragongaze had encountered them fighting with the Drakeslayers Great Company, locked in a losing battle against a tide of green-skinned orks.
It was Ragnar Blackmane, together with his comrades, saved Krom in the nick of time, turning the tide and ridding the planet of orks.
Through such battles, Krom recognized the noble potential in the Primaris—the chance, perhaps, to quickly restore the Space Wolves. He gladly accepted 400 Primaris Marines Space Marines into his force, then returned to Fenris with Lieutenant Castaller.
But Logan's reaction stunned him.
"So this is why you brought outsiders here?" Logan glared, voice thick with anger.
"They saved the Drakeslayers Great Company. Without them, we'd have perished to ork blades!" said Krom, meeting Logan's gaze. "They fought with us. Some fell before my very eyes."
"They share the blood of Russ, eager to learn our traditions. They even clumsily deck their armor in wolf fangs and pelts to please us. Their only 'flaw' is being reared by Cawl and trained for awhile by the Ultramarines. If we accept them, we can teach them our ways and make them true Wolves of the Stars."
"Krom, you twist words," Logan shot back. "They're not Space Wolves, just Ultramarines in wolf's clothing. Why should we let them replace us and turn Wolfenburg into an Ultramarine fortress?"
"Has Magnus' witchery damaged your mind, Wolf Lord? To make such judgments without even glancing at these warriors?" There was grief in Krom's voice. "They're fine warriors of our blood, eager to earn our approval."
"If we refuse them... what becomes of our future? If, in battle, the last true Space Wolf falls with no heir, only those unaccepted by Fenris will inherit the pack's title."
Bowing to the Great Wolf, Krom turned and walked out without looking back.
Other Wolf Lords watched him depart anxiously, then looked at Logan.
Wearily, Logan returned to his seat and waved a hand. "Tell Guilliman, Sons of Fenris has no need of their help. We'll get through on our own."
..
Engir relayed this to Lieutenant Castaller, who now looked troubled. His mission was to hand over Primarch warriors to the Space Wolves—failing to do so felt like treachery.
"I request a meeting," Castaller said over comms.
"Absolutely not. Fenris does not welcome Guilliman's sons. Leave while I'm still patient," Engir snapped back. "We'll accept neither your 'gift' nor hear your honeyed words again."
"I invoke right of petition. Under Imperial law, the Space Wolves have the right to join the Indomitus Crusade and aid in the reconquest of Imperial worlds. Refusal injures the Chapter's reputation."
This stunned Engir, for such rules indeed existed, and all Chapters tacitly upheld them. Refusing a call for aid was tantamount to shaming the pack before the Imperium.
After reporting to Logan, the Great Wolf had to agree.
Thus Castaller was granted entry to Wolfenburg and met Logan, the other wolf lords, and the Rune Priest.
"Here are detailed gene-data—the adopted sons of Russ bear unique gene fragments. If your apothecaries test them, you'll see: these are true sons of Russ."
"Ulrik, check it," Logan instructed.
The apothecary ran the comparative analysis and nodded.
"They're the same. Russ' gene-seed. Very pure."
"How many do you have?" Logan frowned.
"The First Fleet has over 24,000 to 30,000 Primaris Marines Marines, more than 4,000 are sons of Russ."
The Space Wolves had counted themselves at just 700 recently. The newcomers were tens of thousands strong.
"Two thousand sons of Russ have come with me; if desired, they'll serve Fenris. Your warriors, Great Wolf. Also, new tanks, aircraft, warships—and most importantly, forges to make your own warriors."
"Guilliman does all this solely to strengthen the Fenris Wolves. The Imperium needs no dying old wolves—only those strong enough to fight."
The offer tempted the other lords, but the threat of extinction was real.
"Perhaps it merits consideration," one said, glancing at Logan.
"We'll consider it," agreed Castaller. Logan said nothing more, but changed topic.
"Your gifts are generous. Warriors, tanks, ships—take all you want. But this is no gift, no contract. What do you want in return?"
"No payment is required—only certain conditions to prevent mistreatment," said Castaller.
Ulrik chuckled. "Conditions and payment—aren't they the same?"
"These are merely practical points: Cawl's improved seed and transplant tools need to be taught to your apothecaries. Techpriests and specialists come with the kit. Also, you must fight with the Indomitus Crusade. The Imperium faces collapse; the High Lords will do whatever's needed to prevent it."
"So this is Guilliman's aim?" Logan sneered. "To make the Wolves submit. Ten millennia ago he did not have the chance. Now he's succeeded at last."
"Each Chapter retains autonomy," Castaller explained patiently. "Releasing tens of thousands of Marines without strategic guidance would be disastrous."
"So Guilliman doesn't trust me, afraid I might rebel?" Logan scoffed.
The Primarch treats all Chapters equally. If Wolves want special rights, mustn't all others get the same? Fenris matters to the Primarch—hence it's the first target.
If the Space Wolves were defeated, morale would collapse. If they rose again, hope and unity would follow.
"Should I feel honored?" Logan spat sarcastically.
"Wolf Lord, perhaps we shouldn't drive all away like this," Ulrik advised.
"No need for debate. Only 700 true Wolves remain. If they're outnumbered ten-to-one, how can Fenrisian spirit survive?"
"Without that spirit, are Space Wolves still Space Wolves?"
Hrothvyr Runescar stepped up: "If we had no warriors at all, we'd surely perish—the fortress of Fenris would be empty, and none left to witness Russ' return."
"Perhaps extinction is the first condition for our Primarch's return," mused Logan. "When the pack's last day comes, he too will return."
He turned to Castaller and said, firm and clear: "So, Lieutenant, let me be clear. Fenris will absolutely not accept Guilliman's gift."
"Is there nothing that can persuade you?" Castaller asked.
"Hah! If the gene-father descends again to Fenris—perhaps my mind will change."
Castaller sighed and bowed to the Great Wolf. "I'll pass your words to the Primarch."
"Suit yourself," Logan replied. "If that means ruin, the sons of Fenris will accept it."
All watched in silence as Castaller departed.
…
Aboard the Macragge's Honour, in orbit about a planet called Carlton IV.
Ground operations were underway.
Under Datch's command, Primaris Marines Space Marines were hunting down Night Lords—another Legion of traitors. Since the Great Rift, some Night Lords had invaded this system, conquering their worlds through terror and coercing the populace into obedience.
But the Night Lords' tactics, so effective for 10,000 years, failed against Datch:
When scattered, they could not resist; when found, they were surrounded and wiped out by overwhelming force. The Imperial forces claimed the planet without a single casualty.
After clearing the Night Lords, Datch returned to Macragge's Honour via Sadako's videotape.
He located Guilliman on the minimap: a new storyline quest had unlocked.
Key NPCs always gave more quests.
Just then, Guilliman received word from Castaller. His face clouded—the Space Wolves would not receive the Primaris Marines Marines; worse, they saw him as a Legion Destroyer.
But back then, breaking up the Legions was a necessity. How could anyone expect a shattered codex to hold for ten millennia? Even the Golden Throne suffered defects.
"What do you intend to do?" asked Cawl.
"I'll go myself," said Guilliman, determined to persuade the Wolves to accept the Primaris reinforcements.
Just then, Datch stepped out of the projection screen.
Crewmen aboard the Macragge's Honour calmly yielded as he appeared.
Datch teleported straight to Guilliman's side.
"Regent, is there anything I can do to help?"
Guilliman, gloomy, managed a faint smile as a thought struck him:
The Space Wolves distrust him so much, his own visit might fail—but the Nameless One was different, unmatched in power and speed, perhaps able to solve it instantly.
"Would you help convince Logan to accept the Primaris Marines Marines, for Fenris' sake?"
[Mission: Assist Guilliman, persuade Great Wolf Logan to accept the Primaris Marines for Fenris.]
[The Wolves greet Guilliman with a level of suspicion bordering on paranoia; they see the Primaris as Ultramarines in disguise. Assist Guilliman in persuading the Space Wolves. Rewards: 2000 points, 2000 credits, Fame +200, Hypno Panpipe x5.]
"I accept."
Datch accepted the quest, drew Rick's portal gun, locked onto Castaller's coordinates, aimed, and teleported.
"Father, you've truly found the best helper," Guilliman smiled, watching the gate vanish.
With such an ally, defeating Chaos and uniting the galaxy would be only a matter of time.
…
Orbit of Fenris, aboard an Imperial warship.
Lieutenant Castaller stood at attention as the Nameless One materialized—but still, instinctively, saluted. "My Lord Nameless."
Datch spotted a golden exclamation point above Castaller's head, walked over, and opened the info bar to begin mission dialog.
"Lieutenant Castaller, how are things on Fenris? Are they prepared to accept reinforcements?"
"Negotiations have failed completely," Castaller replied, troubled. "The Space Wolves claim they'll only accept the Primarch's gift if either the gene-father returns, or the Emperor descends to Fenris. They've cut communication and refuse all contact. Defense systems are online—if any Imperial ship tries to enter Fenris' atmosphere, it'll be attacked."
"Shhh... This is a tough one!" Datch rubbed his chin.
As things stood, only Guilliman himself could get the Wolves' attention, but bringing him over would take time.
As Datch paced, wondering whether to fetch Guilliman, his gaze fell on a shrine in the corner—a statue of the Emperor. Inspiration struck.
From his inventory, he drew out a Mouse Charm he'd never used.
"Wolf children, did you never dream of being with your father?"
"Then so be it. Today, I'll grant your wish."