Old Terra Tradition: Split It Half on Meeting

The group exchanged surprised glances.

They had not expected it to be that famously "poor" Chapter.

And weren't these guys supposed to be operating beyond the frontier? Why had they come back to the Ultima Segmentum? Were they really so lucky as to run into them returning to the Imperium for supplies?

"Now this is interesting."

Ramesses chuckled softly.

He had not known in advance that the Carcharodons Chapter would be coming to rescue them. Astropathic communication transmitted all manner of abstract images; both sides were essentially playing a game of drawing and guessing, like solving riddles. Being able to grasp the general meaning was already cause for thanks.

The Carcharodons' exact origins were unknown, but all Transmigrators knew they could most likely be traced back to the Terran-born Raven Guard exiled by Primarch Corax.

They first entered the Imperium's field of view during the 32nd millennium, and had maintained an ambiguous, distant relationship with the Imperium ever since.

Call the Sharks poor, and they possessed heaps of equipment from the Great Crusade. The 3rd Company alone had three Contemptor Dreadnoughts. They even had relics like a Purgation-class Cruiser, as well as a Battle Barge passed down from the era of the Great Crusade.

Call the Sharks rich, and after every battle they would practically strip even the enemy's underwear away. To conserve their limited resources, the entire Chapter consisted of melee brutes. They wore Mk V Heresy Power Armor, sacrificing performance for service life and compatibility, and were skilled with Chainaxes. At first glance, anyone unfamiliar with them might mistake them for some Chaos warband.

As a fleet-based Chapter that spent all year roaming the darkness beyond the frontier, they had never possessed a stable supply chain. Whenever they returned to Imperial territory, the entire Chapter descended upon a planet like a band of starving raiders entering a village, collecting Blood Tax and trading STCs found in the darkness beyond the frontier to the Adeptus Mechanicus for weapons and ammunition.

Once they had settled those matters, they would head back out to roam the void, only returning again a century or so later to replenish their supplies.

This Chapter looked down on the current Imperium, yet remained loyal. It was said they held a secret order issued by a certain Primarch, commanding them to battle all manner of xenos beyond the frontier, where the Astronomican's light could not reach, and defend the Imperium's borders.

The High Lords, meanwhile, had little regard for such an unruly Astartes Chapter. Their attitude was essentially one of indifference; they had casually tossed the Chapter some remote planet as a homeworld and left them to fend for themselves.

The Sharks were even more extreme. They had simply packed up and taken away all the population and resources from that planet.

Lacking supplies for operations beyond the frontier and without a stable means of recruiting new members, the Chapter had been forced into self-sufficiency. As a result, the Carcharodons had always been extremely "pragmatic."

Judging by the various acts of thuggery recorded in their files, this meeting would probably be quite interesting.

"Patch it through."

After Arabella and Colonel Kovek came close, Romulus raised a hand to signal the vox officer to receive the transmission.

Over the past half month, both sides had already adapted to each other's communication methods.

"Greetings. I am Romulus, commander of a Deathwatch Kill Team."

The other party had no interest in pleasantries and spoke bluntly. High Gothic, no longer the Imperium's mainstream language for several millennia, came through the communication channel.

"By the rules, we will collect fifty percent of the supplies aboard your vessel as payment for rescuing you."

An old Terra tradition: split it half on meeting.

Everyone exchanged subtle looks. At last, they had witnessed the greed of these great harvesters.

Still, it was understandable. In theory, they were merely a group of battered remnants. That fifty percent probably would not even cover the fuel costs for the fleet that had come to retrieve them.

"Whose rules?"

Romulus replied in the same language, sounding interested.

They did not care much for material goods, since such things were readily created at their leisure. Besides, giving the Carcharodons some supplies was no great issue. This Chapter was not full of scum like the Malice Warriors.

But their attitude was truly awful. Was that any way to speak to their future benefactors?

The channel fell briefly silent. Then, amid the echo of some heavy metal object grinding against the ground, another cold voice came through.

"Our rules!"

"Tyberos?"

Romulus asked tentatively.

"..."

The channel fell silent again.

Having successfully identified the other party, Romulus curled his lips into a victorious smile.

"If you want it, come take it yourself."

That was what he said.

"You already know the rules, Lord of Shadows."

Romulus then cut off the communication and instructed Kovek at his side.

"Colonel Kovek, activate the hangar's tractor beams. Place all the available vehicles somewhere conspicuous. Clear an additional area large enough to accommodate two hundred people. Order the kitchen staff to prepare food. There's no need to ration our stores anymore."

"My lord, for everyone?"

Kovek asked instinctively, then immediately realized he had asked a stupid question.

"Of course for everyone."

Romulus spoke as though it were only natural.

Could they not eat a second serving after eating the first? It was only a little food. How could they possibly run short?

"Oh, and after the Carcharodons Chapter's Space Marines arrive, try to maintain some distance from them. Leave food distribution to the automated equipment. If any interaction is necessary, do it under the protection of our people."

"If any of them take the initiative to ask about our identities or your experiences during this operation, just tell them the truth. It is not exactly a secret..."

"Understood, my lord."

After quietly listening to Romulus's instructions, Kovek briskly went off to arrange the site.

Dealing with Romulus was easy, because there was no need to rack one's brains trying to guess what he meant. He arranged every step clearly, and never played games of testing obedience.

Romulus then turned to Arthur, who had already put away the sacred tome.

"Arthur, go deal with Ramesses II's things."

Why not send Ramesses? Because that fellow worked on whatever whim struck him and could not even remember how many projects he had going at once. Arthur, who had kept watch over him all this time, knew everything clearly.

"Understood."

Arthur nodded and swiftly turned toward the lift leading to the Navigator Sanctum.

They had never concealed what they were doing. Or rather, aside from Ramesses and Arthur, their identities had never been anything shameful. It did not matter if they were exposed.

After all, no one now recognized the Legion-era heraldry of the Thousand Sons and Dark Angels. What could anyone possibly uncover by investigating the Ultramarines and Blood Angels?

Every Chapter had its own secrets, so they did not deliberately pry into one another's affairs.

While Romulus was still explaining various details to the others, the elevator entered an area divided between light and darkness, like some sort of boundary.

Arthur raised his hand and unlocked a coded seal known only to the four of them. A chill that made even his soul tremble washed over him.

The Warp Contamination Zone. It was a special region formed through frequent interaction between reality and the Warp. Divine power from the Immaterium would unconsciously gather here, like dragged heavy objects settling deeper and deeper.

After taking several steps through that environment, Arthur reached out and turned something resembling a valve.