Chapter 305: The So-Called Bald Heads

... 

Moments later, Chen Ye and Yao En entered a tavern. 

Without the sign hanging outside, no one would guess this was a bar. Public spaces here would never welcome Soulless, but the tavern's elderly owner seemed aware of Yao En's visit; she'd put up the "Closed" sign long before. The only patrons inside were Yao En and Chen Ye. 

"This is the finest I can offer," she said, bringing two bowls of liquor to their table, her hands trembling as she set them down. 

Chen Ye was familiar with the old woman, and they exchanged a few words. Given her age, her hearing was poor, and Chen Ye had to raise his voice just to be heard. During their conversation, Yao En noticed that she addressed Chen Ye as "grandfather."

After she left, Chen Ye looked at Yao En and explained, "She's the great-granddaughter of a sworn brother. She's been maintaining my armor these past few days." 

Yao En nodded in mild astonishment. Since arriving in the lower hive of Beisu One and meeting Chen Ye, Yao En had seen every sign of his connection to the Hive. He'd grown up here before joining the White Scar chapter. Chen Ye knew every corner of this place and even kept in touch with the descendants of his mortal comrades—a rare anecdote for a Space Marine. 

Yet Yao En wasn't here to sightsee, and by now he couldn't help but wonder about the true purpose behind Chen Ye's insistence on meeting him. Neither the Chapter nor the Empire particularly cared about the lives of Hive's lower dwellers, so Chen Ye's reasons for this meeting must be personal.

"I want the people of the Beisu system to live like those of Tyron," Chen Ye said. "That's why I sought you out rather than An Ruida. We know each other—makes things easier." 

"No…no, that's impossible…" Yao En shook his head with a weary smile, trying to dissuade Chen Ye from such an unrealistic vision. As a Custodian, Yao En knew many secrets of the Tyron system, including why its people enjoyed a rare level of autonomy. A certain power stabilized the fabric of reality within the system, making typical supernatural events almost impossible there. 

Why did the Tyron Navy take shore leave instead of rushing to Baal? Because, during and after the Battle of Cadia, some crew members reported hearing whispers, relentless temptations urging them toward corruption. The Beisu system wasn't within this protective field. Here, if people tried to live as Tyronians did—immersing in research and art—there was a real risk of corruption, even from something as innocent as a math problem coincidentally touching on a Chaos god's sacred numbers.

But just as Yao En opened his mouth to voice his caution, he sensed something unusual. 

Chen Ye, apparently, knew more than he let on. "It's not just you who's aware of certain dark truths," Chen Ye murmured. "I know of corruption, of demons, of the protections around the Tyron system." 

Yao En regarded him with increasing curiosity. The man had seemed omniscient even back on Agrippina.

"I think you misunderstand," Chen Ye continued. "I don't want people in the Beisu system to research or create; I want them to eat their fill and live orderly lives." 

"That's reasonable," Yao En replied, nodding. "Naturally. Research shows that those who suffer the most are also the most vulnerable to corruption." 

Chen Ye, visibly satisfied, raised his bowl. "Can you promise me this? That it will be done?"

"I give you my word." Yao En lifted his bowl in return.

Together, they downed their drinks.

"So, when you told An Ruida that you were meeting me, it was just to obtain a promise that was already assured?" Yao En asked, setting down his bowl. 

"No," Chen Ye shook his head. "I seek to bring justice to those who deserve punishment." 

Yao En didn't fully grasp the meaning, and Chen Ye didn't explain further, but he could sense that Chen Ye's true purpose was now coming into focus, with the promise serving merely as reassurance.

After finishing his drink, Chen Ye stood and moved toward the back of the tavern, donning his armor with the help of servo-skulls. The process of putting on or removing a Space Marine's armor was usually a formal one, filled with incense and ritual, but such ceremony was impossible in the lower hive. Chen Ye swiftly dressed himself, threw on an oversized black cloak, strapped two power swords across his back, and slid a bolter into his waistband. Fully equipped, he and Yao En left the tavern.

The owner, aware of his departure, opened the warehouse door, leading Chen Ye to his stored belongings.

"How long before you return?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"It could be decades, or I may never come back," Chen Ye shouted in response. 

"Well... by then it may be my grandson serving you," she chuckled.

Chen Ye felt the urge to say something, but he swallowed his words, offering only a nod. After bidding his farewells, Chen Ye walked to a corner of the warehouse, pulled back a large black cloth, and revealed a sleek, twin-seater motorcycle.

He stroked it as if it were a lover before mounting and gesturing for Yao En to take the rear seat. "Watch those leg guards; don't scratch my bike."

"Your ceramite armor's unscathed, so how could this bike get scratched?"

"Just a heads up, so you don't treat it like any ordinary ride."

Once Yao En was settled, Chen Ye twisted the throttle, and the bike roared out of the warehouse.

...

The motorcycle sped through the depths of the hive. Chen Ye led Yao En from the lower hive to the underhive, passing pools of bubbling green sludge and mountains of scrap. As he accelerated, Chen Ye even found time to glance at the auspex on his handlebar. He wasn't aimlessly racing through the streets; he had a destination in mind.

The closer they drew to their target, the louder the sound of gunfire. When they arrived, Yao En realized they'd come to a battlefield.

Amid the underhive ruins, over two thousand poorly armed individuals were locked in combat with five hundred foes. Both sides were outfitted with mismatched equipment, making it resemble a civil conflict, yet Yao En could distinguish friend from foe instantly.

The five hundred were all bald, with oversized heads.

"Gene-thieves here as well?" Yao En asked in surprise. He recalled seeing a lawyer on a holovid, spouting phrases like "model citizens" and "bald heads"... He'd assumed this was just a local term in the Beisu system for a particular personality trait.

It dawned on Yao En that this was the hive he was familiar with.

The vast disparity in each hive level's way of life was as stark as ever.

In the underhive, people were already clashing with gene-thieves, while the lower, upper, and spire levels of the hive remained blissfully ignorant.