Macragge

Since the Age of Strife, the galaxy had never experienced Warp storms on such a scale.

In such extreme conditions, long-range Warp jumps had practically become synonymous with suicide. Navigators struggled to see the light of the Astronomican, and fleets could only travel through realspace at sublight speeds, supplemented by occasional short-range jumps.

After nearly a month, Lox finally arrived at the heart of the Five Hundred Worlds: Macragge.

It was an incomparably prosperous planet, the undisputed center of the eastern galaxy.

Before entering the outer edge of Macragge's star system, the fleet was intercepted by the space fortresses, weapons stations, and cruiser formations scattered throughout the void.

The Weapon Array in the asteroid belt and the armed platforms on the outer planets locked onto their targets at the same time.

"This is Macragge's Honour. I am Roboute Guilliman."

The primarch exchanged communication codes with the frontier defense commander. Only after Guilliman's identity had been repeatedly verified was the fleet permitted to enter the system.

"Even your flagship had to be inspected? Security was this tight?" Lox said.

"It was wartime. I had already sent astropathic messages warning every planet of the approaching enemy. Some had yet to respond due to the Warp storms, but Macragge had long since begun its war preparations," Guilliman replied.

Lox had no comment on Guilliman's method of sending astropathic messages, because he had seen batch after batch of astropaths exhaust their psychic power alive just to transmit them.

By increasing their numbers and draining the astropaths' lives, Guilliman had minimized the impact of the Ruinstorm as much as possible.

Many people died merely to deliver a single message.

It was an exceedingly cruel act, but it was also necessary.

The chaos caused by severed astropathic communications would result in casualties far beyond the deaths of a few astropaths. As lord of the Five Hundred Worlds, Guilliman had no choice but to do this.

Sometimes, after issuing an order, the Lord of Macragge would realize in a daze that he seemed more and more like his father. The Emperor faced the mess of an entire galaxy, and the difficult decisions he had to make were far more numerous.

Under Guilliman's orders, even the flagship needed repeated verification. This eliminated the possibility of the enemy seizing it and using it to infiltrate Macragge.

Within the system, vast numbers of transport ships and troop carriers shuttled back and forth. They brought needed war materiel and armed soldiers from surrounding systems. Under the Ultramarines' coordination, the entire system would become an unbreakable fortress.

War was imminent.

Lox took a deep breath. Over the past month, Guilliman had merely kept him at his side and introduced him to the current state of the galaxy. He had not made any request of Lox.

He understood that this was respect. Just as their unspoken pact stipulated, the primarch would not take it for granted that Lox was his subordinate. Guilliman had extended every courtesy within his power; in a sense, they were nearly equals.

As an adviser, after Guilliman issued the order, Lox could go anywhere he wished aboard the flagship, and all Ultramarines were required to obey his legitimate commands.

"What can I do?"

Guilliman smiled. He had been waiting for Lox to speak first.

He and Lox had not yet formed a close bond. Though his eloquence and the constraints of reality had brought them into cooperation, that cooperation was not unbreakable.

If he acted too forcefully, he might provoke Lox's displeasure.

Through various social maneuvers, the primarch had gradually drawn them closer. In the eyes of the Ultramarines, this mortal was valued by their gene-father even more highly than Chapter Master Marius Gage.

"My Legion suffered devastating losses. I need rapid replacements for manpower, equipment, Titan vehicles, and warships—but you understand. With the Imperium's response speed, those forge worlds are nowhere near capable of meeting my needs!"

Having entirely abandoned the use of artificial intelligence, the Imperium's forge worlds had no choice but to rely on vast amounts of manual labor. The enormous warships that crossed the stars were built piece by piece by Tech-priests, slave laborers, and Servitors.

Even a small lasgun required an STC template to produce its power cell, followed by assembly and the blessings of the Adeptus Mechanicus before it could reach a soldier's hands. As for massive warships and Titans, construction times spanning decades or even centuries were perfectly normal.

The rebels were about to reach his doorstep. Guilliman had no time to wait.

At such a moment, Lox, who possessed an ark ship from the Dark Age of Technology, became an enormous variable in Guilliman's eyes. He yearned to obtain something from Lox that could turn the tide of war.

Human technology had nearly suffered a complete break during the Age of Strife. Even the Adeptus Mechanicus merely excavated the remnants of the past from ruins and relics.

Nearly all powerful creations had been made by humanity's ancestors. Modern humanity could only hope to dig up inheritances that were not completely broken, then patch and repair them.

So how unimaginable would the technology aboard an intact starship from the Dark Age of Technology be?

Guilliman's gaze burned. Lox understood what he wanted.

"I need a planet for a base," Lox said.

"Which one do you want? Name it, and it will be yours immediately." Guilliman activated the holographic projection on the bridge, and every planet in the system appeared in the air.

"Macragge too?"

"Yes, though I would need time to relocate its people." Guilliman did not hesitate in the slightest. There was no trace of jest on his handsome face, and his firm tone was utterly decisive.

Lox laughed soundlessly. Of course, he would not establish his base on Macragge. It was Guilliman's homeworld, the homeland of all Ultramarines. Doing so would undoubtedly earn him everyone's hostility.

His very existence already challenged the Imperium's red lines. What Lox should do was minimize his presence as much as possible.

Sometimes, knowing and seeing were two different things.

"That one, then. The fifth planet in the system's orbit. It will become my production base." The planet Lox pointed at rapidly enlarged.

"Mustafar? It is a death world and a mining world. Are you sure you wish to choose it?"

Guilliman said, "There is no need to trouble yourself over population relocation. I can move the populations of Naboo and Alderaan, leaving you a garden world with a better environment to develop."

"Our pact is closer than that between Terra and Mars. I hope we can be frank with one another. Humanity can no longer endure conflict caused by failures in communication."

Lox nodded. In truth, what he wanted was the planet's mineral wealth. Its population was not within his considerations; his production base would not require much manpower anyway.

"Mustafar suits me well. It also has an asteroid belt and several moons in its orbit. I have a few ideas I need to put into practice."

Seeing Lox's firm attitude, Guilliman abandoned the thought of persuasion. Professional matters should be left to professionals; an outsider giving orders would only create trouble.

"I will have Hill remain at your side. He will serve as liaison between us, and you can relay any needs to me through him. Next, I need to mobilize the strength of the entire Five Hundred Worlds, so I fear I cannot continue accompanying you."

"And those Iron Hands and Raven Guard veterans—I will add an Ultramarines company. They will serve as your guards and be at your disposal."

Guilliman's arrangements were thorough. He reassigned Nykona, Wayland, and the others to Lox's command, even adding an Ultramarines company.

He had issued the order as a primarch. In the absence of the gene-father directly commanding these Astartes, this provided legal grounds for Lox to command those warriors.

Nykona, Wayland, and the others would no longer fight for Lox because of personal ties or mission requirements. Once Guilliman's order had been given, a warrior's duty of obedience required them to obey it wholeheartedly.

After making the arrangements, Guilliman immediately threw himself into tense, busy work. Too many matters required the approval of the Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds.

Lox also took a deep breath. Change always came faster than plans. He had originally intended to rush to Earth before making further plans, but under the current circumstances, he could only remain in the Macragge system.

Besides, Guilliman had placed so much trust in him that Lox could not disappoint his expectations.

He could make use of some of the technological reserves aboard the Red Alert.

"My lord, what are your orders?" Hill, who had been standing nearby, stepped forward. He had listened to their earlier conversation and understood his duties now.

His eyes revealed calmness and resolve, yet he possessed a touch more spirit than the other Ultramarines.

After the Battle of Calth, his achievements had won everyone's recognition, and the primarch had personally promoted him to the rank of company captain.

Of course, this was also related to the lack of command personnel in the Ultramarines Legion after the battle. Large numbers of officers had died, and warriors with proven merit had been promoted directly from the front lines.

"Complete the task entrusted to us by the primarch. We leave for Mustafar immediately."