The Plan Has Changed, Let's Slaughter Them All!

Romulus narrowed his eyes after finishing the equipment swap for the Mk.II Crusade armor. A series of questions flashed through his mind, and when combined with the words of the Black Templars Chaplain, he seemed to understand exactly what kind of asset required an Archmagos to micromanage the production capacity of a Mechanicus Ark.

He turned his head back.

Hmm—

The four of them exchanged glances, each wearing a meaningful expression, all understanding what was hidden on this ship.

No wonder the Archmagos had to be this cautious.

"Brother Tyberos."

After arguing with the Inquisitor, Marshal Orlando, who had decided to give it one more shot under the Chaplain's persuasion, came knocking.

Although he desperately wanted to shove that damned witch into an Adamantium coffin just like the brothers of the Deathwatch, even the Black Templars could not simply move against an Inquisitor without concrete evidence.

If they were to execute an Inquisitor of the Order of Origin on a baseless pretext, the Imperial worlds passed by this Expeditionary Fleet would likely soon be flooded with rumors highly detrimental to the Chapter.

Eventually, these rumors would become accepted facts under the erosion of time, and within a hundred years, the accountability of the High Lords of Terra and the patrol fleets of the Adeptus Arbites would arrive in droves.

For the vast majority of Astartes Chapters, this would be a devastating blow.

"Speak."

Tyberos spoke coldly, looking down at the Marshal before him.

"Exterminating the Aeldari requires the help of the Carcharodons. The Archmagos has only granted us five minutes of combat time; otherwise, the deal is off."

Head held high, the Marshal maintained his necessary sternness.

Tyberos looked toward Archmagos Cawl, who had not yet departed.

The Archmagos nodded slightly, confirming the veracity of this requirement.

"Furthermore, the use of heavy weapons is prohibited. Every unnecessary explosion could cause significant damage to the assets carried by this vessel."

"What is the number of xenos?"

"Around five hundred. The exact count is unclear."

"What is their distribution?"

"They are located in the aft compartments where the corridors are complex and labyrinthine. Tentative attacks have suffered heavy losses, with a casualty ratio approaching 3:1, and we have no knowledge of the enemy's specific disposition."

Bluntness had its benefits; it stripped away meaningless rhetoric, leaving only the raw, honest situation.

Moreover, Orlando did not seem to mind Tyberos's indifferent attitude. After a moment, he recounted the detailed information they had gathered.

"These conditions are harsh."

Tyberos's intent to refuse was obvious.

Even though the Carcharodons were currently well-supplied with personnel and equipment, and he personally wanted to hack up some xenos—and perhaps capture an Archon to squeeze out clues regarding the Void Glass—he would not disregard casualties to complete an Archmagos's absurd mission.

"My Lord!"

Before Tyberos could turn away, Akia, the Third Company Captain, approached him and relayed the request of the Transmigrators via internal comms.

"..."

After hearing Akia's report, Tyberos looked at the Transmigrators, who were still standing with the Black Templars Chaplain.

Romulus, covered in condensation, raised his thumb and pointed toward the thirty-seven warriors behind him who had already equipped their Las-musket rifles, signaling his confidence.

He had already tested them in the compartment the Shark had allocated to him; they were steady.

Well, that would do.

"Kahurangi."

Tyberos summoned his Chief Librarian.

"Have the First Company send another thirty men."

He used the external broadcast.

"Brother?"

Marshal Orlando looked surprised, not understanding why the other party would mobilize troops to the Ark after clearly indicating a refusal.

"The plan has changed."

Tyberos flexed the lightning claws in his hands, and the Chainfist sparked as its gears engaged.

"I invite Lord Romulus to provide the explanation."

Before Romulus could react, Tyberos ceded the primary position in the conversation.

Tyberos never valued so-called honor; as descendants of the forgotten, honor had never existed for the Space Sharks to begin with.

As for the outer reaches, it was even less important. Most people who attempted to deal with the Carcharodons became very polite the moment they saw him in person.

He knew why Romulus was acting this way, which was exactly why he should let these old fellows take the lead.

Just as Romulus and his men respected his status as Chapter Master to maintain his dignity, a Chapter Master's respect could significantly elevate their standing.

Status was something incredibly useful within the Imperium.

After all, unlike the Carcharodons who had always drifted along the fringes of the Imperium, the objective of Romulus and his party was clearly to return to the Imperium, where they would be met with endless probing and scrutiny from various Imperial factions.

Having the backing of a full Chapter and having none were two entirely different things.

"..."

Romulus approached Cawl naturally, exchanging a glance with Tyberos at his side.

Tyberos gave a slight nod, signaling that he was ceding the lead.

The Sharks maintained their formation in silence, showing no resistance to backing these Ancient Warrior.

Setting aside the other party's generosity, there was the matter of their attitude: even after learning that the Imperium had become a stranger to them, they still intended to fight for humanity.

If not for their oath to the Void Forefather, which drove the Carcharodons to constantly battle the monsters and demons beyond the frontier that threatened Imperial space, they would have long since abandoned their heritage and vanished into the void. Why else would they bother with the Red Tithe from time to time, replenishing their ranks in a way that disgusted both themselves and the Imperium?

That these Ancient Warrior were still willing to return after witnessing the current state of the Imperium was truly loyalty beyond words.

"My lord?"

Now it was everyone present who felt puzzled.

Aside from those venerable ones interred within a Dreadnought, who else could be addressed as "my lord" by a Chapter Master?

When the gaze of Marshal Orlando fell upon those Deathwatch, the questions surfacing in his mind multiplied several times over.

No, wait, did the Deathwatch have this many Imperial Fists?

Sending so many out in a single Kill Team—was Terra no longer being defended?

"The Carcharodons fleet is towing a Strike Cruiser with its hull largely intact but its combat capabilities lost, along with an Orks warship of the same class."

Romulus did not stand on ceremony, stating bluntly to the Archmagos, "I wish to trade them for the ownership of a frigate."

Logically, this was a bad deal; if those two ships were towed to a Forge World and paid for with the Orks warship, one could obtain a brand-new Strike Cruiser within two years. However, Romulus did not believe they could afford to wait in one region for two years.

"Insufficient."

The Archmagos replied decisively.

"Then what if I add that Aeldari cruiser to the deal?"

The Archmagos looked at Romulus with indifference.

Romulus looked at the Archmagos with calm.

There was not a trace of posturing, arrogance, conceit, or religious fanaticism on his face, nor the desperation of someone making a final stand while backed into a corner.

He was calm, as calm as if he were stating a fact, or presenting a conclusion reached after a rigorous analysis of the situation.

It had been a long time since Cawl had seen such an expression...

So long that it seemed like ten thousand years.