Sharky: Being Good

"Tyberos, please follow me."

Kovek, having regained his footing, let out a sigh of relief. Had Romulus not reminded them to activate the magnetic locks on their Void Armor in advance, the transport troops would currently be out in the void of space fishing for bodies.

Compared to Romulus, these warriors in their grim and somewhat crude armor seemed to care little for honor or etiquette.

He took a deep breath, cast aside those subtle emotions, and refocused his awe for the Emperor, before being escorted by a Mk.II Crusade to the shark and extending the invitation.

"Romulus has prepared a decent welcome ceremony for you."

The Carcharodons, clad in their shabby gear, looked on in confusion as they were ushered by mortals into a banquet hall prepared well in advance.

Within their line of sight, there was not a trace of the disarray one would expect after suffering a crushing defeat, nor did they see the Lone Wolves baring their fangs to defend their meager scraps.

Those rows of neatly standing Indomitus Terminator, and the massive vehicles serving as a backdrop, became a stunning sight within the banquet.

The Carcharodons lowered their heads, looking at the sumptuous dishes on the table, finding them utterly unappealing.

Their burning gazes swept over the equipment in sight, their eyes nearly popping out of their helmets.

Aren't we supposed to be rescuing a group of remnants?

Why does the inside and outside of this ship look like two completely different worlds?

The sharks carefully sized up the Indomitus Terminator standing beside them and those guarding the mortals; their polished paint and ornate decorations stood in stark contrast to the rivets on their own shoulder pads and the paint that had faded to a dull gray over time.

One glance was enough to make it seem as though the Carcharodons who had come to the rescue were the ones in need of aid.

"Want them?"

Romulus asked out of the blue, his thoughts already split into dozens of threads as he conversed with the other Carcharodons, gathering information.

Unfortunately, most of the sharks remained reticent, showing surprise only when the Indomitus Terminator beside them spoke in a tone identical to their own.

They were all waiting for the Void Lord to give the order.

"..."

Tyberos sat heavily in the seat prepared for him, staring blankly at the sumptuous dishes on the table, falling into silence.

To say he didn't want them would be a lie.

But given the rarity of this equipment and these vehicles—honestly, he already regretted letting Akia handle the negotiations at the start.

If these were his own belongings and someone had snatched half of them in the name of a rescue, he would have fought the other party to the death.

To have crossed paths with such a wealthy chapter, one should maintain friendship, perhaps even establish a long-term cooperative relationship, rather than taking a bite and leaving.

"As I just said."

Romulus seemed completely indifferent to the previous offense of the sharks; his gaze fell upon the Lightning Claw of Tyberos, as if hinting at something.

"If you want them, you need to come and take them yourself."

"..."

How does he seem to know that I snatched this Lightning Claw from the Ashen Claws in a duel?

Though his body was encased in power armor modified from a Dreadnought, the shell of Adamantium and Plasteel provided Tyberos with no sense of security at this moment.

Even though the helmet, modified from an Indomitus Terminator, continued to perform its sacred duty of concealing and protecting his deathly pale face, he felt as though his very soul had been laid bare.

Tyberos looked toward Kahurangi, the brain of the chapter, only to find that the Librarian had already removed his helmet and was chatting with a Librarian of the Deathwatch.

Is this the feeling of being bluffed by those psychics who play with prophecies?

Romulus watched Tyberos, who had been thoroughly rattled, and decided not to apply any more pressure.

"Let us duel."

He pointed toward the Stormbird in the lower hangar.

Building a dueling platform was too much trouble, so Romulus simply used the top of a Stormbird as the stage for the duel; the viewing angle happened to be quite good.

"First blood."

This was an ancient dueling ritual, considered concluded the moment the opponent shed their first drop of blood.

Snap—

Several spotlights clicked on, illuminating the wings until they were translucent.

The Black-armored Swordsman, having removed his power pack, stood in the center of the arena and issued an invitation to the sharks present, releasing his suffocating aura without restraint.

The swordsman's stance was flawless, and the thick scent of blood on his body licked at the wings of the Stormbird, causing the young Machine Spirit to tremble with excitement.

"Let us do it in the way you are most familiar with," Romulus said.

"Let our blades do the talking."

The shark pack began to stir uneasily, their burning gazes converging on Arthur, who stood upon the wing, and the Mk.IV Power Armor arranged neatly behind the Stormbird.

Wait, how are you so familiar with this? Is this my chapter or yours?

Tyberos stopped playing the silent statue; the other party clearly understood his chapter's culture well and had given him a graceful way out despite their rocky first meeting.

If he didn't step up now, it would be a grave insult.

He removed his helmet without hesitation and raised his hand to signal the secret code unique to the Carcharodons.

Clatter!

A Carcharodon stood up with lightning speed and leaped down into the arena.

Then, the next second.

Clang!

The shark was sent flying back to the platform at the same rapid speed he had descended, landing flat on his back against the metal floor.

The Apothecary hurried forward to examine him, only to find that the shark's weapon had been severed at its weakest point, while a shallow scratch on his gauntlet oozed bright red blood.

He stood up and gave a slight nod to the Chapter Master.

Aside from the scratch on his hand and his nerves being numbed by the kick, he was fine.

Whoosh!

A master-crafted Chainaxe landed at his feet.

It moved with such speed that his body had not yet had time to react.

"This is an apology."

Arthur lowered his blade and looked up at the watching sharks.

"Perhaps you could increase your numbers slightly?"

Clatter—

Three more stood up.

Sharks did not care for so-called honor; a default duel was a necessary respect for an opponent, but since the other party had issued the challenge, they would not pass up such an advantageous condition.

But their movements were quickly stopped by their battle-brothers.

The battle-brothers tacitly selected the three most dilapidated weapons and solemnly handed them to the three challengers.

Akia, who had originally intended to stand up and win glory for the Chapter, also realized the situation and quickly sat back down to continue gorging himself.

"So this is what sharks are like."

Romulus could not help but sigh; such an interesting scene allowed him to truly witness the core spirit of the sharks.

Be it malice or goodwill, as long as their bottom line was not crossed, the sharks simply chose their attitude based on the external environment. They were never held back by honor, nor did they show preference for any particular behavior, caring only for necessity.

Just like now.

Such people, conversely, were the easiest to change.