Victory celebration

Inside Arctic Base, two Chapter Masters and several leading figures from the various Chapters were holding a meeting to divide the spoils-no, a special symposium on the comprehensive, balanced allocation of war trophies and military supplies.

"The Shadow Venom Blade Chapter arrived first in this war and suffered the heaviest losses. We demand to retain all supplies currently in our possession. Does anyone object?"

"Oh, please. Are the supplies you're using now things you captured? Things you produced yourselves? No. The Storm Will Chapter lent them to you. As a force on a penitent crusade, you're not entitled to any supplies from friendly forces. Those are the rules."

The Shadow Blades' Clan Elders had nothing to say. Under the rules, they indeed could not receive any supplies, and the Orks' scrap metal captured in this war was completely unusable. They would gain nothing, despite having sacrificed the lives of sixty-nine warriors.

"The Storm Will Chapter also suffered considerable losses in this war, and we supplied most of the ammunition consumed. We deserve the greatest share of the credit. Any objections?"

"Any objections? Did you kill the Ork warlord? Wasn't that one of my Green Templars?" Evan's achievements were Deika's strongest bargaining chip. He did not care who had contributed the most. As far as everyone on Atris was concerned, Evan had saved them.

Although people had yet to rebuild their homes, business was booming at the printing houses and sculpture workshops. Huge copies of Evan's Divine Retribution Portrait hung everywhere. The Green Templars' Chief Librarian insisted that it was merely an accidental shot taken by an Imperialis Militia battlefield recorder, absolutely not a "deliberately staged photograph."

Every household bought a statue if they had the money, or a picture if they did not, burning incense and worshipping Evan as a true god.

If Evan took a trip into the Warp, he might even come back boasting that he was a great Warp god. Sales of toy lightsabers and mech costumes had skyrocketed along with everything else. Helmet sellers could no longer do any business unless they cut a crack extending down between the eyebrows—or at least painted one on with black dye.

"You may have taken the Ork warlord's head, but we did a great deal against the Gork Dreadnought and the Morkanaut before that. More than half the orbital bombardment came from us."

None of them really wanted to argue. They wanted to get along, but fighting Orks brought little profit and consumed enormous resources.

After finishing a call with Evan's group, Deika made a decision.

"All right, everyone. I have a solution."

Every gaze turned toward Deika.

"We found an unexpected prize: an Aeldari spacecraft, nearly a hundred and fifty meters long."

Everyone's killing intent seemed to flare at once, making the atmosphere in the meeting room unbearably oppressive.

"You all understand the value of a hundred-and-fifty-meter Aeldari spacecraft, don't you? It's damaged, but almost entirely intact. Even selling it to the Adeptus Mechanicus should get you three Strike Cruisers and two frigates without any trouble."

"There's only one Aeldari spacecraft. How do we divide it?" The Clan Chief of the Shadow Venom Blade Chapter, standing at the back and silent until now, finally could not resist speaking. Deika had been far too vague. Just how badly damaged was it?

"First, we add assets of equivalent value to the pool, then divide everything. Since the wealthiest... the Chapter most likely to provide assets of equivalent value is the Storm Will Chapter, I'll assume for now that we include Storm Will's property as well."

"My proposal is that the Shadow Venom Blade Chapter retain all supplies currently in its possession and receive one Battle Barge from the Storm Will Chapter, including the weapons and supplies aboard. The Green Templars will receive one Storm Will Battle Barge, one frigate, and replacements for the supplies we expended in this war. The Storm Will Chapter will provide those assets and receive the Aeldari spacecraft, along with all useful captured Ork equipment."

The Storm Will Chapter Master was deeply displeased, but he had to admit that this was a very fair division. In fact, his Chapter stood to profit considerably. Even if they had to throw in twenty more Leman Russ Tanks, this deal-no, this allocation plan-would still be worth discussing.

"Why do you get an extra Nova-class Frigate?"

"Please remain calm, Clan Chief. You should understand that the Green Templars discovered, excavated, and preserved this find entirely on our own. We could have told you nothing and simply left with the Aeldari spacecraft. Instead, I've brought it forward to preserve the friendship between our three Chapters. I hope this joint campaign will strengthen that friendship, rather than let a dispute over spoils mark the beginning of distrust."

"We agree." Whatever the Shadow Venom Blade Chapter leaders had whispered to one another over their comms, they quickly reached a consensus.

"We agree as well." The Storm Will Chapter had no objections. They merely needed to decide which Battle Barges to hand over, since the three differed in performance.

"Then here's to a successful partnership." The Chapter leaders bumped fists.

"One more thing. Evan was the one who found the Aeldari spacecraft too."

"Well, well. Chapter Master Deika has gained himself another formidable warrior."

"Who would have thought Evan was such a versatile fellow?" With the profits divided, no one begrudged a little goodwill, especially toward someone they already thought highly of.

"Ah, Evan and the others should be here soon. Come on, let's go enjoy the show."

Evan and his battle-brothers returned to the Arctic military stronghold—wasn't this a metropolis?

Colorful flags and balloons covered the walls, neon lights flashed, and all sorts of goods stood on lifting platforms painted in vivid colors. The fortress, previously battered and scarred by bombardment, now pulsed with life.

"Brothers, how about we take our old route?"

"Seconded." "That way should be safer."

If Third Squad entered the city amid all this, the enthusiastic crowd would probably surround them several layers deep. To meet the Chapter Master, they would have to wait for the crowd to surround him too and push him their way.

They climbed the peak they had previously defended and discovered that the area where they had dug their positions had been leveled into a platform. The eight continued onward, leaping over two warehouse roofs to reach the assembly point.

Tristy had been run ragged lately. With the Astartes holding the base, there was no need to worry about defense. Most of the hastily conscripted soldiers had been discharged to rebuild farms and restore food production. All available manpower and resources went into reconstruction, and every military vehicle had been sent to transport building materials.

The men went to machinery factories to rebuild auxiliary equipment, rebuild houses, and grow food.

Tristy wanted to mobilize the women to join this great reconstruction effort as well. Construction began on numerous factories requiring technical skills, but a problem arose.

I worked. I had money. I had nowhere to spend it.

Food was still scarce and issued in fixed rations. Production of other goods had barely begun. People had money, but there was nothing to buy.

The scavenging trade outside was thriving, but the scavengers wanted food, not money. Money was utterly useless to them in the wilderness. It could neither protect them nor feed them.

Tristy slapped his forehead. This was the perfect time to spread the faith! They had just agreed to submit to the Imperium. They ought to show some commitment.

Thus, portraits and statues were produced in huge quantities. One Clan Chief of the Shadow Venom Blade Chapter even gave Tristy the battlefield recordings from his helmet. Countless scenes of warriors holding the line and fighting with unyielding determination were extracted, but sadly, they still proved less popular than Evan. After all, everyone had just endured the most horrific war. Those who had not broken already possessed tremendous strength of will.

People did not want to admire their defenders' tenacity or watch the danger and hardship of battlefields filled with flying flesh. They wanted victory-complete, absolute, total victory. We want a gigantic celebration!!!

Flag and balloon factories opened too, and the people celebrated victory with their own enthusiasm.

Seeing that public sentiment could not be defied, Tristy obtained the Astartes' permission and a promise that they would attend, then announced a massive celebration for October 27. He also decreed that every October 27 thereafter would be a Victory Day holiday.

Deika was making the final adjustments to the Astartes' part in the celebration.

The Space Marines would hold a grand military parade outside the fortress to display their formidable military might. This would effectively deter anyone who still opposed the planet's submission to the Imperium while strengthening humanity's faith in the Emperor.

The Emperor had sent troops to save them from disaster, had he not?

Then a host of performances would enter through the city gates and proceed toward the center: parade floats, circus acrobatics, traditional folk dances, all performing as they moved. They would finally arrive beneath the tallest platform at the very center, which had once been the parade ground. This part had little to do with the Astartes, but they could still watch the show.

Next came speeches and congratulatory addresses from various representatives. Tristy strongly "suggested" that Evan give a speech wearing his damaged armor. He even wanted to keep that suit of Power Armour, which was naturally out of the question. Space Marine Chapters recovered every suit that could still be repaired. With Evan mediating, however, they did leave behind the pauldron that the axe had ruined.

After the speeches came the chance to celebrate with the people. Invited Astartes could join prominent human figures on the temporary viewing platform atop the walls to "discuss" business, or watch the spontaneous performances by the crowds below.

If the Space Marines wished, they could go down as well, but the people might surround them for three days and nights.

Ever since arriving, Evan had been wondering what he should say in his speech.

As a staunch materialist and proletarian warrior, he dearly wanted to deliver an inspiring speech. However, the thought-imprinting organ in this body prevented him from opposing the Emperor.

The thought-imprinting organ, also known as the hymnody, was one of the organs unique to Primaris Space Marines. It greatly strengthened their resistance to the Warp while maintaining their loyalty to the Emperor.

But there were loopholes to exploit. The Emperor was still a living corpse who could neither speak nor move from the Golden Throne. Besides, that farsighted great man held many views Evan agreed with. He could start by making use of those.

Outside the central command headquarters, colorful flags fluttered above a sea of people.

The celebration of victory over the Orks began.

The military parade outside the walls began first. Many Astartes firmly believed that their purpose was to kill enemies on the battlefield, not act as clowns before humans, so numerous warriors had gone out to sweep the planet and hunt down surviving Orks.

There were not quite enough troops left, so many members of the Imperialis Militia were added to the parade.

Twenty Astartes Terminators marched at the front. If an ordinary human colony rebelled, these warriors alone would have been enough to tear every rebel apart.

Behind them marched seven hundred ordinary Space Marines from the three forces, followed by formations of heavy Leman Russ Tanks and Emperor's Blade Tanks.

As the tank formations rolled past, formations of Lightning Strike Fighters and Thunderbolt Heavy Fighters flew overhead.

Bringing up the rear were display vehicles bearing disinfected Ork corpses and various Ork weapons: a convoy showcasing the spoils of war.

Next, military vehicles converted into floats by removing their roofs drove from the city gates toward either side of the platform. Singing and dancing performers and juggling clowns rode aboard them.

Gajie and his comrades stood on the peak they had previously defended, observing everything through binoculars. Most Astartes still disliked being around too many ordinary people. Warriors of the Imperial Fists or Salamanders were somewhat better about it, but those of Chapters such as the White Scars and Night Lords spent their lives prowling around the enemy: scouting, striking, decapitating command structures, creating chaos, and being hunted. Accustomed to such things, they struggled to fit in among these cheerful people.

As for why they had not gone to hunt Orks, naturally, they wanted to watch Evan show off.

Evan took the stage.

Evan walked onto the speaking platform wearing his incomplete Power Armour. Though he carried no twin swords and had no enormous axe lodged in his pauldron, the people below recognized him immediately. Thunderous cheers erupted from the crowd and from viewers gathered before broadcast screens everywhere.

Holding the microphone, Evan quietly waited for the cheering to fade.

"Do not cheer, my fellow humans." The people froze. So did the distant Astartes.

Fellow humans? An angel of the Emperor, a god in the eyes of the locals, was calling humans his fellows?

"Humanity stands on the brink of disaster." Everyone was even more bewildered. Hadn't they just won a war? How were they in danger?

"The leader of the Imperium of Man, the great Emperor, protects humanity from terrible enemies. But he has already devoted all his strength to that task. He has none left to guide us." Gajie silently took the Lasgun off his back. Was this a joke? Saying that here? Was he turning traitor?

"The roars of the Orks echo across every Sector as they slaughter humans without mercy. Traitors who turned to the Warp have struck back against us, inflicting immense losses upon humanity. Echoes of ancient times, the Necrons and Aeldari attack us with weapons far beyond human technology. There are also the rising T'au, the Tyranids in the dark universe, and every kind of xenos. They all seek to devour our territory, consume our flesh, and exterminate humanity. At every moment, humans everywhere are being slaughtered by all manner of horrifying creatures. The whole human world stands on the brink of disaster."

"What should we do? Tell me, brothers and sisters."

The silent audience looked at one another. Some had already covered their faces and begun to weep. They had never known humanity had fallen into such dire straits, let alone expected to hear this despairing truth from an Astartes-the savior they trusted most.

"What is he doing?" The Chapter leaders back at headquarters could not make sense of the situation. "Has Chaos influenced him?"

"Don't panic. Keep listening, and we'll find out," Deika said. Although he did not know what Evan intended, he trusted his boy. At home, he could "educate" him as sternly as necessary; outside, he had to show complete trust.

That was what an old parent did: give his child someone to lean on.

In the crowd, a thirteen-year-old boy suddenly shouted with all his strength, "But don't we still have you?"

"Do you expect me to descend from the sky every time, kill every enemy, and protect you?"

Evan tore off his helmet and hurled it hard against the ground.

"Look carefully. I'm human too. Nothing more than an enhanced human."

The Astartes were already moving to surround the area. Damn it, this looked like Tzeentch's handiwork.

"Let me ask you: why are you still standing here? Why are you still alive and well enough to hold this celebration? Why haven't you become food in those vile Orks' mouths?"

"Was it because we Astartes fought? Of course it was. But could we alone protect so many people? What about the blood and tears of the Imperialis Militia? What about the ordinary workers who supplied us, who took food from their own mouths to feed us? Have you forgotten the warriors who died on the battlefield? You damned cowards!"

A wave of agitation swept through the crowd. "We haven't forgotten!" "We're not cowards!" The wronged audience shouted in protest.

Evan continued, "Not cowards? Then let me ask you this: when I asked what you should do, why didn't a single person answer, 'Kill them all!'"

The Astartes stopped moving. Tch. A false alarm. That had genuinely scared them.

"Let me ask you: how did we win this war? We are Space Marines from other planets. The mighty machines we use come from Mars, from Lucius, from Gryphonne, from countless Forge Worlds across the universe. Our Imperialis Militia come from Segmentum Obscurus, from Segmentum Tempestus, from Ultima Segmentum, from human worlds throughout the universe."

"The strength of humanity from across the universe united into a torrent and utterly crushed the invading Orks!"

"We do not fight alone. Countless humans stand behind us. When we unite our strength, nothing can stand against us."

"The Orks want to slaughter us, and Chaos and those skeletons want to join in. Then we fight."

The crowd below seethed with fury. Hands that had been wiping away tears now became fists raised toward the sky. Evan saw that the people's fighting spirit had been roused, but they still needed confidence.

"Our forebears once destroyed vast Ork empires and drove them in warships to the most desolate reaches of space. Our ancestors defeated the armies of Chaos and beat them back into the Eye of Terror, where they hid, afraid to emerge. We blasted apart the Necrons' pyramids and left them sleeping forever in their own tombs. We shattered Aeldari spacecraft, destroyed the Tyranids' immense fleets, and hunted every xenos that dared appear until there was nowhere left for them to flee."

"Now they dare to return. With our fists and our guns, we will tell them: if we can defeat you once, we can defeat you countless times."

Earth-shaking battle cries were already rising from the crowd below.

Evan felt the moment was right.

"If one person cannot win, what about ten? If ten cannot win, what about a hundred? Countless trillions of our fellow humans stand behind us. If we all stand united,

"we will fight upon the seas,

"we will fight upon the land,

"we will fight in the tunnels underground,

"in space, aboard warships, and in space stations,

"we will fight without ceasing until our enemies are utterly destroyed."

"Humans everywhere, unite! Liberate the entire galaxy!"