Ceremonial Occasion

Fu Qinghai returned to his personal quarters to tidy up; he had almost no personal belongings. He then made a trip to the lower-deck laboratory to collect his DIY handiwork and bid farewell to Master Kunto.

During this time, Fu Qinghai proposed taking a few books left over from the Dark Age of Technology from Master Kunto, but he was flatly refused by the master.

Tch, fine, keep them then. I've already recorded the full text in my brain anyway, Fu Qinghai thought to himself.

Benefiting from the semi-computerized nature of his "Tony Stark Electronic Soul Backup" brain, Fu Qinghai possessed a near-photographic memory whenever he deliberately chose to commit something to mind.

His speed of memorization was comparable to a scan.

The 17% electronic soul state of Tony Stark might be completely inferior to the real Tony Stark in terms of inspiration, talent, and creativity, but it possessed certain computer-specific functional traits that perhaps even Tony Stark himself did not have; scan-like memory speed and database-like retention were among them.

Fu Qinghai had come here primarily to clean, maintain, and repair his beloved MK4 Maximus Power Armor.

These routine maintenance tasks could be performed by any ordinary Space Marine, and as a Techmarine, Fu Qinghai finished them with swift efficiency.

After a fresh coat of paint, the power armor looked brand new, featuring a bone-white primary color scheme with red trim. The helmet had been repaired, and as Fu Qinghai donned it, he stepped onto the Stormbird's cabin with a proud and spirited stride.

Then, he was yanked back down by Ogedei.

Ogedei pulled Fu Qinghai aside, made him half-kneel, and whispered into his ear:

"Qingshan, it's not that I want you to stay on the Sotharan forever; you should come back once you're done."

Fu Qinghai was dumbfounded, thinking, Didn't you tell me to go there in the first place?

"Do you think I didn't want you to go to Mars? That I looked down on you as a recruit and didn't want you to participate in this glorious battle?"

"Uh..." Fu Qinghai wanted to say, Old Ogedei, you've misunderstood me. I'd actually be happier not going to my death.

"How could that be? You are the most talented Techmarine I have ever seen. Of course, I have spent a long time in the White Scars Legion and haven't seen many Techmarines, but you truly amazed me. We will not abandon you."

You flatter me too much; how about you abandon me instead... Fu Qinghai, oh Fu Qinghai, you really did forget the principle of keeping a low profile in the workplace.

"You have another mission on this trip that I didn't tell you about earlier."

"What mission?"

"The ammunition supply on the Dagger has always been insufficient. We only replenished some damage control consumables at Moradigan; we lack heavy weapons and a lot of firepower equipment. Plasma weapons, melta weapons, krak grenades, frag grenades, and so on... and the Ultramarines are famously wealthy."

The look Fu Qinghai gave Ogedei said it all: You don't mean to suggest...

Meeting Fu Qinghai's questioning gaze, Ogedei said bluntly: "That's right, find a way to get some for us. Don't steal; such behavior does not befit the honor of a Chogoris warrior."

"Then how do I get them?"

"You'll find a way. I believe in you; you can do it. You have never let me down."

With a look of utter speechlessness, Fu Qinghai stepped onto the Stormbird's cabin.

Fu Qinghai wanted plasma weapons and melta weapons too. In fact, he knew the technical principles and manufacturing methods for these weapons in his mind, but even the cleverest housewife cannot cook a meal without rice. Master Kunto was a Biologis, and his laboratory contained mostly various living tissue materials. With limited materials and production lines, it was impossible for Fu Qinghai to conjure a plasma cannon out of thin air.

He wasn't an Ork who could turn trash into weapons just by "believing" in it; weapon manufacturing still required adherence to scientific principles.

Soon, the Stormbird arrived at the boarding deck of the Lunar-class cruiser Sotharan.

The cabin opened slowly, and the Ultramarines' honor guard was already lined up on both sides. They were fully armored, holding banners and ceremonial gear, their formation solemn, majestic, and meticulous.

To be able to field an entire honor guard meant there were no shortage of Space Marines on this cruiser.

The Ultramarines still showed sufficient respect to this isolated detachment of the White Scars.

Standing between the two rows of Ultramarines to welcome Fu Qinghai and his party was a Space Marine clad in magnificent, master-crafted power armor.

On his helmet faceplate was a dark gold winged design, and the crest atop his helmet was a dark gold column of horsehair. His shoulder pauldrons featured embossed metal eagles, and he wore a moon-white long cloak behind him.

"Invictarus," Talal whispered in Fu Qinghai's ear.

"What is that?" Fu Qinghai asked in a low voice.

"The personal guard of the Primarch Roboute Guilliman, the honor guard of the XIII Legion. You can compare them to our White Scars' Keshig, but besides their exceptional combat skills, every member of the Invictarus is well-versed in governance and management; they are outstanding leaders. He is wearing Invictarus power armor, which means he once served as a personal guard to Roboute Guilliman or the Four Princesses."

Fu Qinghai understood; the Invictarus were essentially the management trainees of the Ultramarines Legion.

The Golden Keshig were the honor guard of the White Scars Legion and the personal guard of Jaghatai Khan. Unlike the Invictarus, who were all masters of business management, the standard equipment of the Golden Keshig also included a powerful jetbike; they were invincible cavalry as powerful as a storm.

Stepping off the cabin, Fu Qinghai led the way, with Talal and Aaron—clad in Terminator Armor—on his sides. Behind them were several servitors carrying a large crate containing Fu Qinghai's DIY handiwork.

Fu Qinghai was the first to remove his helmet and place it at his side.

The commander opposite also removed his helmet. He was slightly surprised when he saw Fu Qinghai's young face, but he masked it well immediately.

He was a middle-aged man with a resolute face, light golden short-cropped hair, a calm gaze, and pursed lips, looking quite stern.

He opened his arms and said in a clear voice: "Welcome to the Sotharan, warriors of the Khan."

Fu Qinghai bowed his head and saluted with a fist, saying loudly: "I pay my respects to you, honorable Commander."

The Ultramarines placed great emphasis on social etiquette and politeness; they were truly the noble elite from the prosperous Realm of Ultramar. This was the first impression the XIII Legion gave Fu Qinghai.

The lead warrior is so young... This was Fu Qinghai's first impression of the Sotharan's commander.

The Ultramarines' legion symbol was an inverted "Ω," which was why they were also called the "U-Legion" or "Toilet Seats." Because the primary color of their legion paint scheme was deep blue, they also had nicknames like "Smurfs" or "Papa Smurf."

The welcome ceremony was solemn and brief. Soon, the warriors serving as the temporary honor guard returned to their respective posts.

"I am the commander of the Sotharan, Captain, Cestus Vlahos. You may address me as Vlahos."

"Greetings, Commander. Qingshan, that is my name."

"The situation in the Lesser Sector is dire, and the Sotharan is in a state of constant readiness. We are unable to arrange a banquet or celebration for you, so I hope you will not mind a simple welcome ceremony."

Vlahos spoke with great courtesy.

"You are too kind; your ceremony has left us flattered. Our Primarch, Jaghatai Khan, is also a straightforward man who does not stand on ceremony, and I believe we have inherited these virtues of his."

Fu Qinghai's reply was equally watertight.

"I have already communicated fully with Captain Ogedei. Before we reach the edge of the Solar System, we can sail together. For the time being, I hope the three of you will remain on the Sotharan and operate alongside my warriors."

After the pleasantries, Vlahos stated his requirements quite directly.

"I am sorry, Captain Vlahos. During combat, all combat personnel on the Dagger will be under your unified command, but my two colleagues need to return to the Dagger. Only I will remain."

Fu Qinghai kept in mind the instructions Ogedei had given him before departure; the old man had long guessed that the Ultramarines would certainly try to bargain.

The term Fu Qinghai used was "combat personnel." The Sotharan did not know that Master Kunto, a Biologis, was hidden on the Dagger. If Vlahos found out, Master Kunto clearly would not fall under the category of "combat personnel."

"Very well, as you wish." Vlahos shrugged, not pressing the matter.

"My adjutant will lead you on a tour of the Sotharan. Time is tight, so we will not linger here; we set sail shortly."

"Understood."

Talal and Aaron returned to the frigate Dagger, while Fu Qinghai remained behind.

Vlahos's adjutant was a mortal currently undergoing augmentation. His height and build had clearly surpassed those of an ordinary human, though he was not yet as tall as a Space Marine, and his adjutant's uniform fit him rather tightly.

The standard augmentation process for a Space Marine is not an overnight affair; it is the norm for an adjutant like this to undergo modifications while continuing to serve.

The adjutant led Fu Qinghai through spacious corridors, towering domes, an auditorium, and a banquet hall, describing with great passion the murals, banners, and weapons hanging on the walls, explaining which glorious battles of the Ultramarines and which heroic figures they represented.

Fu Qinghai followed the adjutant, bypassing tall, polished marble pillars, and took a keen interest in the oil paintings and reliefs, which featured an Ultramar style entirely different from the Chogoris aesthetic.

Human warships in the Warhammer 40K universe are quite distinctive. Much like the War Titans and Power Armor within it, they are not merely combat vehicles but platforms designed to display the might of the Imperium of Man to their enemies. Unlike the minimalist and practical interior design of spaceships in other sci-fi IPs, the interior decor of Imperium warships is extremely luxurious and ornate.

Warships of the 30K era were essentially palaces equipped with lance batteries, macro-cannons, and plasma drives.

By the 40K era, where religious superstition is rampant, the palaces were simply replaced with cathedrals, yet the essence remained the same.

After the tour of the warship, Fu Qinghai returned to the personal cabin arranged for him by the Sotharan. It followed the same standard as the frigate Dagger: a rest cabin plus a weapon room.

The crate Fu Qinghai had brought was already placed in the weapon room.

Sitting on the bed in the rest cabin, he could faintly feel the low rumble and vibration of the ship's engines coming from deep within the hull. Fu Qinghai knew that because he was a noble and powerful Astartes Monk, he could possess an independent, spacious cabin and appreciate and critique classical Gothic art in exquisite, ornate halls and corridors. However, this massive giant of a ship was not driven or operated by art decorations; within the complex, spiderweb-like pipes of the ship, countless servitors and laborers endured the stifling, cramped environment, working as busily as ants.

Some might ask why, with such advanced future technology, more people are needed to drive a space warship.

This is also a major feature of the Warhammer 40K universe. Simply put, due to the fear of Tzeentch's Greater Daemons and artificial intelligence, the number of personnel on 40K-era warships is even higher, as much ancient technology was lost during the wars.

Fu Qinghai opened the crate he had brought. Aside from his oversized Combi-Bolter, which had been retrofitted with a flamethrower and a drum magazine, a massive object resembling a mechanical octopus tentacle lay inside.

This was, in fact, a multi-functional maintenance integration device Fu Qinghai had tailored for himself. The inspiration came from Master Kunto's modifications to his own body; the Tech-priest had replaced his limbs and even his internal organs with various synthetic synapses and mechanical tentacles, which greatly increased the efficiency of his laboratory work.

Fu Qinghai had long been troubled by the fact that, as a Techmarine, he lacked the specialized Power Armor befitting his status. Consequently, he had dismantled some experimental tools from Master Kunto's lab and, utilizing the knowledge and abilities granted by Tony Stark's electronic soul backup, integrated them into a mechanical arm.

This servo-arm, which integrated a plasma cutter, power claw, welding torch, and precision mechanical tentacles, was also an original component stripped from one of Master Kunto's instruments.

Master Kunto: WTF.

By mounting this servo-arm onto the power pack behind his Power Armor, he could barely fulfill the duties of a battlefield repairman.

Fu Qinghai named it the "Qingshan Type 1.0 Battlefield Multi-functional Servo-arm."

This was a lightweight, foldable, and detachable Power Armor accessory. Fu Qinghai felt it was better than a standard Techmarine servo-arm, as it incorporated the White Scars' tactical philosophy of prioritizing speed. Normal Techmarines are relatively cumbersome on the battlefield, burdened by several servo-arms and massive gear on their backs, often accompanied by a small group of tech-thralls.

Of the other two works Fu Qinghai had brought to the Warhammer 40K universe, the shock lance that had stunned Ogedei was a one-time-use item and remained unnamed, while the Combi-Bolter was considered a high-powered toy with little technical depth, so it also remained unnamed.

This servo-arm was the first work Fu Qinghai had officially named.

Just as Fu Qinghai was carefully inspecting his new creation, a heated argument was unfolding on the bridge of the Sotharan.

An hour ago, the void auspex had detected three transport ships belonging to the Word Bearers. Those three transport ships had also spotted the Sotharan and immediately fled toward the nearest planet, landing on a barren world and hiding within the crevices of mountains and canyons, their whereabouts now unknown.

A Lunar-class cruiser is a standard space warship; its construction and service operations are conducted in a void environment. Although its firepower, armor, and speed far exceed those of the Word Bearers' transport ships, it lacks the capability for atmospheric flight or landing on a planetary surface. Thus, the Sotharan could only watch helplessly as the three transport ships, capable of atmospheric take-off and landing, escaped to the surface to hide.

"This is clearly a trap!" an Ultramarines officer shouted.

"Three transport ships without warship escorts just happened to appear on our route, and now they've made an emergency landing on an uninhabited planet."

"Even this barren planet... let me see what it's called, Planet Roswell VII—it is very likely the battlefield those traitors have prepared for us," someone added.

Another sergeant said with dissatisfaction: "Are you saying we should just watch three Word Bearers ships right under our noses and pretend we don't see them?"

"Have you forgotten Calth? Have you forgotten the civilians who sacrificed their lives on Ultramar?" he demanded loudly.

"But we truly should not fight on a battlefield preset by the enemy."

"What are you suggesting? Orbital bombardment? With only this one cruiser, you want to cover the entire planetary surface?"

"That would still be better than letting our warriors die in vain in an enemy trap!"

"Captain Vlahos, we cannot let hatred cloud our judgment; this is likely a conspiracy."

"Then do you have a better idea?"

Set Vlahos listened to the arguments of his subordinates in silence. His eyes were fixed on the holographic projection of Planet Roswell VII on the table, but his mind was occupied by a phrase that the Primarch Roboute Guilliman often said to his honor guard:

"At all times, maintain your reason; do not let anger cloud your mind."

He took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "Quiet, everyone. Our flight path was not reported to anyone except the Primarch. The enemy could not have predicted it in advance, especially since we changed our destination at the last minute to investigate a merchant ship. The possibility of this being a trap is low."

"Our orbital bombardment coverage cannot blanket the entire planet, but we certainly cannot turn a blind eye to these three ships."

"Look, this area is where the transport ship's beacon vanished. Can the ships that landed on the surface grow legs and run away? No matter how they set up a trap, they cannot move beyond this sector."

Vlahos looked up at his subordinates and said, "Regardless of what is inside those transport ships, even if they are three empty vessels, purely bait, as long as we find and destroy them, will the Word Bearers on this desolate planet walk all the way to Terra?"

His rhetorical question made the officers grin, slightly easing the tense and heated atmosphere from moments ago.

Vlahos then continued, "We will infiltrate this area in squad-sized units via Thunderhawk Gunship, maintaining constant contact with the orbital fleet. Follow-up forces will drop in according to the battlefield situation. Our warships are our advantage; once you find the enemy, if you cannot take them by force, call for orbital strike support immediately. Do not be reckless, understood?"

"Understood!" the squad leaders roared in unison.

"Good. Next, I will assign the area of responsibility for each team and designate the spearhead and reserve forces."

At this point, Seth Vlahos suddenly thought of something and turned to one of the sergeants, saying, "Gult, take that White Scars warrior with you. Your squad will serve as the reserve force, preparing for an orbital drop."

"Understood, sir."

Vlahos said calmly, "If this planet is a trap, then that White Scars frigate that appeared out of nowhere and broke away from the fleet might also be a trap. Whether it is a trap or not, we will know once we test it."