300 basic kits, each including Mk7 Power Armour, a Chainsword, and a Bolter, along with large quantities of ammunition and ten Phobos-pattern Land Raiders.
To Huron, aside from the Power Armour and the Phobos-pattern vehicles, everything else was practically trivial.
After all, the twenty Special Operations Divisions he had formed were each equipped with Bolters, while Palatus's Hive City could already produce Chainswords, Bolters, and bolt shells on its own.
Those things no longer deserved to take up space in his Military Factory production slots.
But to Forlorn, they were like pies falling from the sky, leaving him dizzy with shock.
"Th-this... these really are gifts for us?" Forlorn even stammered.
It could not be helped. For the past several decades, he had racked his brains every day in search of supplies. He had even begged their Parent Chapter and other successor Chapters that did not acknowledge them.
But because of the Inquisition's particular brand of petty vindictiveness, the Ordo Malleus still targeted them at every turn, leaving them with pitifully little support.
The First Captain beside Forlorn found it strange that the list had made his Chapter Master stammer.
He tilted his head and glanced at its contents, then froze where he stood as well.
"Th-this is real?" The First Captain looked at his Chapter Master hesitantly, hoping for a definite answer.
Forlorn instead looked toward Hans, the Astral Claws 2nd company captain. Hans nodded. "We have brought all the gifts. If Chapter Master Forlorn has no objections, we can begin transporting them now."
"Uh... ah... thank you."
Forlorn felt a little embarrassed for a moment. He should have been entertaining the Astral Claws Battle-Brothers first.
Perhaps they had seen how anxious I was.
Forlorn felt ashamed.
Hans contacted the crew aboard the warship, and soon several Avernus Barges began making trips back and forth, transporting the gifts onto the Storm Daughter.
As they watched set after set of smooth, intact, uniformly styled, freshly manufactured, unpainted Mk7 Power Armour, Forlorn and every Lamenter present stared without blinking, afraid that the suits would disappear the instant they looked away.
But when the ten Land Raiders drove out of the Avernus Barges, the Lamenters' attention shifted to them.
As heavy assault vehicles, Land Raiders were in fact no less valuable than Terminators—perhaps even more so.
That much could be seen from the Codex Astartes.
Like Terminators, Land Raiders could theoretically only be used by First Company veterans.
And unlike Terminator armour, which every veteran could wear, the Codex also stipulated that a ten-man squad could use only one Land Raider.
Thus, ordinary Chapters could generally field only ten at a time, though many Chapters did not even possess ten.
Even a Founding Chapter full of good-natured folk like the Salamanders had merely expanded its First Company to twelve squads in order to circumvent that rule, allowing them to use twelve Land Raiders.
Looking at those ten Phobos-pattern Land Raiders, all of identical design and without the slightest trace of use, as if they had just rolled off the production line, Forlorn swallowed hard in a very un-Chapter-Master-like manner.
Though the Phobos-pattern was merely the basic, or standard, model, its value was nearly equivalent to an entire Terminator company. The Lamenters Chapter only had five in total, and only two of those could still move. As for the remaining three, they could only leave matters to fate.
Forlorn touched the Land Raider's armour. A cold, solid sense of reassurance traveled from his fingertips to his mind.
He took a deep breath. "Thank you for Chapter Master Huron's gift. The Lamenters Chapter will never forget this kindness. Should the Astral Claws ever have need of us, the Lamenters will certainly give everything we have."
He had not forgotten that those petty-minded Ordo Malleus bastards were still watching them. The Astral Claws were practically taking a stand for them.
"There is no need to take it so seriously, Chapter Master Forlorn." Hans shook his head. "This equipment is nothing to us. Rather than leaving it in the warehouses to gather dust, it is better to give it to those who need it more."
"Chapter Master Huron is one chosen by the Emperor. He does not wish for the Emperor's warriors to suffer dishonourable losses because they lack guns and ammunition."
Forlorn fell silent.
He recalled the Battle of Slaughterhouse III during the Corinthian Crusade. Back then, they had received no reinforcements and had tried to evacuate the planet's civilians aboard their ships while surrounded by Orks.
But their transport capacity was limited, and the delays dragged on. Many Lamenters succumbed to the Black Rage, and nearly all of their more than two hundred casualties had been incurred there.
The fleet in orbit was gradually destroyed as well, leaving only the Storm Daughter still holding on.
So as not to burden them, the remaining millions of civilians chose to detonate millions of tonnes of explosives, perishing alongside the Orks and buying them time to withdraw.
In the end, the remaining few dozen Lamenters left Slaughterhouse III aboard the Storm Daughter with more than three hundred thousand civilians.
"For those we cherish, we die in glory."
That was the Lamenters Chapter's battle cry, and also their creed.
Now, Forlorn understood the state of mind of those who had gone willingly to their deaths. "We will remember it always."
Hans smiled and shook his head. "Once you reach Badab, you will understand that this truly is nothing."
He then brought up the real matter. "This time, we hope to reach an agreement with your Chapter to form a Raider Fleet together, capture pirate warships, and expand our strength."
"We agree," Forlorn answered directly. "As long as your Chapter can provide basic supplies, we are willing to deploy two Companies, one Strike Cruiser, and two Frigates."
Though Forlorn did not say it outright, Hans understood immediately. He was tacitly giving up his right to a share of the spoils and asking only for basic supplies.
But that was not at all what Chapter Master Huron had tasked him with. If the Chapter Master learned that he had excluded the Lamenters from the post-battle distribution, he would probably fight him to the death.
Hans therefore made up his mind that he had to bring the Lamenters into the post-battle division of spoils. He had no desire to taste the Chapter Master's Iron Fist.
Compared to the warm atmosphere between the Lamenters, the meeting between the Astral Claws and the Mantis Warriors was somewhat gloomy.
Though the Lamenters already seemed poor enough, the Mantis Warriors were actually even poorer.
When Chapter Master Yarrick Sarissa received Carl, the Astral Claws 2nd company captain, he was still wearing mismatched Power Armour.
An Mk7 breastplate, Mk6 leg armour, and an Mk4 helmet.
Not only that, every component was covered in scars. One glance was enough to tell they had endured countless battles.
When Saris claimed that these were inherited holy relics of the Chapter and represented its glory, he felt a little embarrassed.
Though he was not wrong. The patchwork armour he wore had indeed endured more than a thousand years, followed several generations of Chapter elders into battle, and witnessed the Chapter's millennium of glory.
But in the end, it was because the Chapter was so poor that it no longer had any new Power Armour.
Before you continue