Recruit instructor Florisi

In the distance, a mechanical door beneath an Aquila emblem suddenly opened, and hearty laughter rang out from within.

"Hahaha! The greenhorns did well this time. Those Chaos scum never dreamed we'd hollow out an asteroid and hide inside it."

"One lance salvo blew a transport to pieces. Who knows how many Chaos traitors we killed?"

"Eh, who's that idiot standing over there? Oh, another recruit! Brother Risgen did good work."

Evan saw the boisterous warrior at the door leading a group of warriors in scout armour toward him and hurried forward to meet them.

"Hello, recruit. What's your name?"

"Hello, instructor. My name is Evan."

"All right, you're no longer Evan. You're Rookie... hmm, which number was it? Oswan went to the Fifth Company, so his number's free. You'll be Rookie Thirteen."

"Rookie Thirteen?"

"That's right. My name's Florisi Morogan. Call me Instructor Florisi, or Instructor Fro."

"Yes, Instructor Fro." Evan discreetly studied the recruit instructor. Under the Astartes' organizational structure, a Chapter had a thousand men divided into ten companies of a hundred each. The First Company was the veteran company and operated alongside the Chapter Master; the Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth were battle companies; the Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, and Ninth were reserve battle companies; and the Tenth was the recruit company. Florisi was probably the captain of the Tenth Company.

The recruit instructor had already reached Evan. He was about half a metre shorter than Evan, clearly not a Primaris Astartes.

His face, however, bore the marks of a tradition inherited from the Primarch Jaghatai Khan: during a "blooding" ritual, warriors used blades to scar their own bodies. The Green Templars had retained this tradition and repeated the ritual after certain achievements.

The scars on Instructor Fro's face marked him as an elite veteran with over two hundred years of service.

"Fall in, recruit. Go to the back. Follow me, lads. Rookie Nine, go write a combat report. Everyone else, come review the battle with me at the tactical table."

One warrior hurried toward the mechanical door beside the firing range, while the others followed Instructor Fro toward the holographic battlefield projection beneath the Emperor's portrait.

Evan followed at the rear. Suddenly, an Astartes ahead turned around. The recruit, slightly shorter than Evan, gave him a friendly smile and whispered, "Hey, hello. I'm Rookie Nineteen. Welcome to the Tenth Company."

Evan returned the friendly smile, but noticed that Instructor Fro's ears seemed to twitch. Instead of answering, he raised both hands and made a gesture meaning "the Emperor bless you."

"All right, you brats, gather around the holo-table and watch closely. Relax, we won. Thirteen, come stand beside me. Time for your first lesson."

Evan stood beside the instructor, feeling rather awkward. Fortunately, few warriors paid him any attention; everyone was watching the equipment in the middle.

As the holographic projection unfolded, a Chaos Space Marine transport appeared in its centre. Judging by the blasphemous symbols painted across its hull, it probably belonged to followers of Khorne, the god of war and one of the four dark gods of the Warp. There might also have been Space Marines aboard who had defected to Chaos. They were preparing to cross the asteroid belt of the Snark A System.

From Instructor Fro's position, a Fury-class Scout Fighter flew into view. It was a scaled-down version of the Fury-class Attack Craft, made smaller and stripped of weapons for speed, with stealth equipment, a wide-area Auspex radar, and a Precision Targeting Device added.

Its defining feature was speed.

Clearly, Instructor Fro had been leading the recruits on a reconnaissance mission.

The Fury fighter slipped behind a large asteroid. Several warriors in fully sealed scout armour emerged and used specialized heavy equipment to hollow it out, then concealed the fighter inside. After briefly pushing the asteroid, the fighter shut down most of its systems and coasted toward the enemy transport on inertia alone.

The enemy made no response, presumably mistaking it for an ordinary asteroid. Once it closed to a certain distance, the Fury fighter precisely marked the enemy's position.

The observation data on the enemy vessel was transmitted back to the Chapter's mothership. Their Strike Cruiser swiftly moved to the designated position, and its lance batteries fired a salvo, destroying the enemy transport's engines from tens of thousands of kilometres away.

A combat formation of Thunderhawk-class Bombers and Fury-class Attack Craft then bombed the entire enemy vessel into space debris.

It had been a highly successful reconnaissance mission. At least, that was what the recruits thought.

"All right, that was the whole battle. Those who took part, tell me what you think."

"Instructor Fro, I think it was a successful engagement. We destroyed the enemy fleet without suffering any casualties."

"Instructor, although we blasted those Chaos enemies to pieces, we also gained no supplies. From a logistical perspective, we expended quite a lot of ammunition and received nothing in return."

"Twenty-Seven, watch that attitude. Ammunition manufactured by the Imperium exists to be fired at the enemy. It's an honour for those rounds to be fired by us." Before that warrior could finish, another had begun arguing against him.

"Go tell that to the Chapter's Chaplain. Once you run out of ammunition, you'll understand how serious it is."

"If I run out of ammunition, I still have my Chainsword. I still have-"

"Enough. Stop this pointless argument. Tell us what you think, Rookie Thirteen."

Instructor Fro's sudden call startled Evan. "Instructor, I wasn't involved in this battle, so I don't know the details. I have a few questions..."

"Just say it. Speak freely here. You and I are brothers."

"All right, instructor. Forgive my presumption, but I have four questions. First, where did they come from? Second, where were they going? Third, were they delivering cargo or collecting it? Fourth, where were their escorts?"

Clearly, when Evan asked these questions as an observer, many recruits were taken aback.

Instructor Fro had evidently recognized the issue long ago. Looking around, he said, "Thirteen is absolutely right. As scouts, your job isn't merely to gather data on enemy vessels. Identifying their strategic intentions is your basic duty, yet you've let victory go to your heads!"

Instructor Fro's voice boomed, and every recruit instinctively avoided meeting his eyes.

"All of you had better remember this lesson. If anything like this happens again, prepare to stay in the recruit company until you die.

"Now, don't rush to make promises. Listen to my analysis. Judging by the wreckage of the destroyed enemy transport, it was empty and most likely heading out to collect something. They had no escorts, perhaps because they considered the cargo unimportant, or perhaps because they wanted a smaller fleet to travel covertly.

"I favour the latter interpretation. Of course, there's a third possibility: they encountered an enemy, and their escorts went to draw them away. But judging by the debris from the explosion, this was an empty vessel. Empty ships are fast and can usually outrun an enemy, so that explanation is unlikely.

"The enemy was heading toward the system's third terrestrial planet. There's no life anywhere in this system, so they may have established a hidden outpost or armoury there. I've already contacted our battle-brothers in the Third Company. We should have results soon."

At that, all the recruits looked at their instructor with admiration.

During Astartes selection, their subsequent augmentation, and combat, the Chapter's Chaplain had constantly instilled in the recruits the belief that they must fight courageously for the Emperor. This meant that, lacking combat experience, they often focused too much on killing the enemies before them and overlooked important details.

Instructor Fro also looked at Thirteen. Suddenly finding himself watched by so many warriors, Evan felt uneasy.

With secrets to hide, he could not afford to attract too much attention. Evan decided to ease the awkwardness by asking about something everyone knew.

"Instructor Fro, may I ask why we're staying here if there's no life?"

Now it was Instructor Fro's turn to feel awkward—so awkward that he practically wanted the floor to swallow him.

He could hardly say the veterans had been cooped up aboard ship too long and wanted to get off and race around for fun, even if that was precisely the truth.

"Patrolling Segmentum Pacificus is our duty. We just happened across them during a routine inspection. Pure coincidence, coincidence..."

"I see. Routine inspections certainly are important..."

Instructor Fro prepared to say something to break the awkward silence.

"Thirteen, you're a very gifted recruit. I believe that with enough training, you'll become an excellent warrior. Next-"

Instructor Fro's communicator suddenly began beeping. The incoming report indicated that the Third Company had discovered a Chaos warrior armoury on the third terrestrial planet, containing quite a few Melta Bombs and several Chimera armoured vehicles. Naturally, the Chaos Cultists and two Chaos Space Marines guarding it had already been obliterated without a trace.

Evan breathed a sigh of relief. The message had successfully shifted everyone's attention to their "all-knowing" instructor. For now, he still needed to keep a low profile. After all, he had quite a few secrets.

Next, Instructor Fro led the recruits to the Chapter Chaplain's "church." In reality, it was simply a special compartment decorated like a church, with sacred blessings inscribed on its walls and pillars, rows of consecrated vessels, and statues of the Emperor. The scent of fragrant oil filled every corner.

The Chapter's Chaplain primarily helped the battle-brothers preserve their sense of self and guard against the corruption of their minds by the Warp's evil powers.

However, this mission had been led by the battle-hardened veteran Florisi, and his recruits were Primaris Space Marines. Their newly implanted organs, introduced through specialized surgery, gave them considerably greater resistance to the Warp than ordinary Astartes. The Chapter's Chaplain therefore purified the flight crew first and placed the recruits in the second group.

"May the Emperor bless you, Stormseer Anciris." (The White Scars and their successor Chapters customarily called their Chaplains Stormseers. Since they would be operating alongside other Chapters, they would be called Chaplains below.)

"The Emperor watches over you as well."

After the blessings, Instructor Fro took the recruits back to the training ground. Beneath the gaze of the Primarch Jaghatai Khan's portrait, he ordered them to pair off and fight to hone their combat skills.

Everyone was actually quite pleased by Thirteen's arrival. Before he came, pairing off always left one unlucky fellow without a partner.

That lone champion usually faced Instructor Fro himself, or a brother from another battle company making a "guest appearance" during his break. They enjoyed some "friendly sparring," deepening their bonds through bruised and swollen faces—the recruits' faces, naturally.

The White Scars were Space Marines brimming with fighting spirit. They never refused a challenge to single combat, and the pride in the blood of these sons of the steppes would never let them accept defeat in a one-on-one fight.

This training session involved barehanded sparring. As Instructor Fro put it, "In battle, guns break and blades snap. The only weapons you can trust, or rather, your final weapons, are your fists." Evan's opponent was Rookie Five, named Gajie, who was currently studying the newcomer with curiosity.

Gajie was secretly rather pleased. He had been assigned to fight the newcomer largely because his close-combat ability was almost the worst among them. One of the Green Templars' rare snipers, he devoted most of his energy to refining his marksmanship, so his melee skills improved slowly. He usually took a miserable beating during sparring. Today, he would finally be spared that suffering.

"Well, Thirteen, shall we begin?"

"I'm ready, senior."

Being called "senior" certainly made Gajie feel good, but he would not go easy on Yifeng. If the instructor caught him holding back, the punishment would be severe.

Gajie attacked first, sending a fist the size of a sandbag straight at Evan's face. Both possessed superhuman strength and reflexes, but Evan was still a newcomer. He instinctively raised an arm in front of his face. Though he successfully blocked the attack, he also blocked his own vision.

With a thud, Gajie's other fist, which Evan had failed to see, slammed viciously into his waist. Evan grimaced in pain, dropping onto his right knee.

Instructor Fro's voice came from afar. "Thirteen, his chest is wide open. Why aren't you counterattacking?"

Hearing that, Evan had a flash of inspiration. Military enthusiasts always watched a few fighting videos, even if they rarely practised.

Thanks to a Primaris Astartes' formidable physique, his body truly moved at the speed of thought. Countless pieces of "traditional" martial arts knowledge flashed through Evan's mind, and a Primaris warrior's powerful cognitive abilities helped him select a counterattack in an instant.

Pushing off with one foot and adding the rotational force of his waist and abdomen, Evan concentrated his entire body's strength into his elbow. "Wuji: Heart-driving elbow."

Gajie grunted as sharp pain shot through his chest. He twisted slightly to lessen the direct impact and counterattacked with his massive fist, punching straight at Evan's face.

Evan took the worse beating in that exchange, but Gajie was hurled back two body lengths, lost his footing, and fell to the ground.

As the newest recruit, Yifeng had been placed at the very edge. When the others looked over, they happened to see the uninjured half of his face and Gajie being knocked away.

That drew almost everyone's attention on the training ground. Even the instructor looked at Evan in surprise.

"Thirteen, that move of yours was pretty... hmm... pretty sharp."

"I don't know either, instructor. I just reacted instinctively."

Instructor Fro had the typical mindset of a White Scars successor: warriors bearing this Gene-seed had combat instincts etched into their very bones.

"Follow your combat instincts. You have good talent. Continue training."

Across the vast galaxy, countless alien species possessed their own distinctive forms, and Chaos corruption made them even more unpredictable. Space Marines did not fight only humanoid opponents; they could not spend ages training in specialized martial arts for every possible enemy form. The Green Templars Chapter placed greater emphasis on developing combat instincts and seizing openings.

Before Evan could turn his head back, Gajie was already attacking. You've got to be kidding. I'm a "veteran" with a year and a half of training, and you made me suffer like that? How am I supposed to save face if I don't even the score?

Two hours later, Evan finished training with two black eyes and stood at the back of the formation covered in bruises. Gajie was not much better off. Why does this kid fight so dirty? My injuries don't look bad from the outside, so at least I've saved face, but almost all the damage is internal. My stomach's killing me.

Of course, thanks to the Astartes' rapid healing, as long as no limbs were missing, minor injuries healed in roughly the time it took to eat a meal.

"All right, your hand-to-hand skills showed some improvement today. Go eat. Remember my instructions. If you make the same mistakes tomorrow, I'll teach you personally."

Everyone except Evan shuddered.

"All right, dismissed. Go eat."

Although the recycling systems in their Power Armour allowed Astartes to fight for two weeks without food, drink, or sleep, under normal circumstances they still needed to eat, and in considerable quantities.

Besides, recruits could not yet wear Power Armour. (Recruits were implanted with the Black Carapace to improve their control over Power Armour, but it required considerable time to grow. Until it matured, controlling Power Armour was difficult. Wearing it was also a symbol of their entry into full service.)

Everyone scattered in twos and threes, gathering in their own groups. Rookie Nineteen, Orka, who had first shown Evan kindness, approached him. "Hello, new brother. How did training feel?"

"Hello. I feel like my strength is increasing. Or am I imagining it?"

"Haha, all recruits feel that way. Come on, I'll take you to the mess hall."

Gajie joined them too. The Green Templars valued strength and brotherhood, and getting acquainted through a fight was a common way for them to make friends.

Then... they queued for food. Evan did not know what to say. How crowded did this mothership have to be for superhuman warriors like them to need to queue for their meals?

While waiting, Evan learned from his conversation with Gajie and Orka that they were currently on the edge of the Imperium's Segmentum Pacificus.

Contrary to Evan's expectations, this was not Abaddon's—the enemy's—Thirteenth Crusade. It was the Fourteenth.

The four dark gods of the Warp had joined forces with Abaddon, and surging Warp energies poured out of the Eye of Terror, cutting across the galaxy.

On a standard Imperial map, a Warp rift stretched from the upper left-the northwest-all the way to the middle of the right edge, in the east.

Warp energies had severed communications. Without guidance from the Emperor's Astronomican on Terra-the great beacon for Warp travel-even the finest warships dared not cross the Great Rift. In other words, the half of Imperial territory above it on the map had lost contact with humanity's central capital, Terra.

Segmentum Pacificus, where the Green Templars operated, lay in the west, with ninety-nine percent of its territory below the Great Rift. Unfortunately, the Green Templars had accepted a mission to quell rebellions on remote worlds, then fought their way to the far northwest, successfully reaching the roughly one percent of Segmentum Pacificus on the other side of the Great Rift.

This region had only one badly depleted Imperial Fists successor Chapter recovering from its losses-the Storm Will Chapter-and an Iron Hands successor Chapter on a Penitent Crusade that had ended up fighting its way here by chance: the Shadow Venom Blade Chapter.

(A Penitent Crusade was a century-long campaign against the Imperium's most dangerous enemies, undertaken by a Chapter to prove its loyalty after actions suspected of disloyalty to the Imperium. It received no Imperial supplies during that period.)

The region had only one Imperial Forge World and five colony planets loyal to the Imperium. A place previously defended by one depleted Chapter now had three depleted Space Marine Chapters stationed there.

Since it belonged to Segmentum Pacificus-the west of the map-the administrative authorities of neighbouring Segmentum Obscurus, in the north, had no jurisdiction over them.

The five colonies established a provisional Segmentum Pacificus Second Council to handle local affairs. Then... peace, revelry, and extravagant debauchery. Let the music play and the dancing continue! Three Chapters! Round that up, and their defences rivalled humanity's homeworld of Terra. Impregnable, absolutely impregnable.

Another piece of information left Evan dumbfounded: there were no other warships. The entire Chapter had only one Strike Cruiser.

A normal Chapter possessed three or four Battle Barges plus three or four Strike Cruisers. Although wartime shortages of warships were common, theirs was... a little impoverished, wasn't it?

Orka spread his hands. "What can we do? We sons of Jaghatai Khan are always fighting in the dark regions on the galaxy's outermost fringes."

Learning all this left Evan both frightened and reassured. As long as nobody noticed this remote little corner, their tiny fleet would be perfectly safe. But if anyone with intent so much as glanced this way, even three battered Chapters would be unable to stop them. All they could do now was pray.

You can't see me, you can't see me, you can't see me!