The Art of Negotiation

The Ultramarines forces regrouped on Calth. Ships remained on high alert around the clock; there was no room for surprise anymore. The entire planet was geared towards war preparations. Military recruitment continued ceaselessly, and enlistment centers were overflowing with both volunteers and those who needed more direct persuasion. The Primarch himself personally oversaw the organization of forces and the training of new units. He assumed the first news of Harlock would reach him in at least a dozen days. Meanwhile, after just eight, a message arrived that caused a stir throughout the staff: the Arcadia had just docked in one of Calth's ports.

"The Arcadia appeared in space two hours ago. Twenty minutes ago, it began docking," a Marine reported.

Roboute didn't quite know how to react. Too fast. In his mind, the thought resonated. Without a word, he pushed away the documents he was working on and headed towards the reconstructed communication station. It now served as a temporary port. Along the way, he could already see the first signs that his mission had indeed been accomplished. Millions of soldiers passed through all control gates, led by guides. He watched as the first Warlord-class Titan descended from the ramp, led by a pirate waving light sticks.

"My Lord!" a familiar voice rang out.

He turned to see Orfeo Cassandar, Legate, commander of the forces on Aramtura. He knelt on one knee before him, offering words of respect to his gene-father. He gave a very brief report to sketch out what had happened to his lord.

"Rise, Legate, you didn't go through all this to kneel," Guilliman said in an authoritative voice. He was filled with pride that his son had managed to survive the attack of two legions and still save so many people.

"My Lord..." He didn't finish before being interrupted.

"I know you have much more to say, but it's time to meet him," Guilliman interjected.

"I will lead you, my Lord. Over the last five days, I've learned the ship's structure. I will take you to the bridge."

Cassandar walked right beside the Primarch, leading his personal escort through the crowd. As they approached the Arcadia, their attention was drawn to a group of pirates standing at the base of the ramp. Dressed in their combat suits, with closed helmets and green visors, they looked like living machines. They had been observing them from a distance. But only when Guilliman came within a few steps did the pirates make a move. Two stepped forward, blocking the passage. One of them reached for his ear, as if receiving an order.

The Ultramarines reacted instantly. Several Astartes in blue armor silently moved in front of the Primarch, forming a living shield between him and the pirates. Soldiers exiting the ship froze. Moments ago, they had been calmly descending the ramp, guided by signals and orders, expecting no obstacles. Now they stood uncertainly, between their own and strangers, unsure whether to retreat, wait, or perhaps... prepare.

"What's the meaning of this, soldier?!" Guilliman asked.

"You do not have permission to enter the ship," the Pirate replied, striking the metal floor with the tip of his axe.

"And yet my soldiers are already on your ship."

"They're leaving already, no need to trouble yourselves. The Captain doesn't want them on deck," the Pirate said, gesturing for Guilliman's soldiers to continue exiting.

"Pirate! Lord Primarch wishes to meet with Captain Harlock, let us pass!" Avenius snarled. He'd gotten to know them a bit and knew that, for the most part, force was the only solution they understood.

"The Captain gave clear orders: soldiers exit, no one enters," he replied, taking his axe in both hands, bearing in mind that even death couldn't touch him.

Seeing the pirates in their suits assume combat stances, the Marines quickly drew their swords and bolters and aimed them. The situation was tense until Guilliman looked up at the ramp. There stood Harlock with his empty gaze.

"Let them leave the ship," I said to the pirate, descending. "I'm waiting for payment."

"Everything's ready, but we need to talk," he replied, looking down. He felt it, that strange presence from me.

I looked him up and down in his armor. "I don't have a chair that big, or enough alcohol for you to drink."

He smiled at the joke. "I don't need one, and I'll stand."

I measured him with my gaze, then nodded for him to follow me. His guard wanted to come with us, but the pirates stood between them. I led the way; people, seeing their lord, opened a path for us. Until we reached the Gate of Saint Peter.

The monumental Gate stood before the two of us. He admired and studied it with his gaze. We stood there in silence, contemplating it. Guilliman felt that if he crossed this gate, his entire life would change again. He'd experienced this once before, and it was when he met the Emperor.

"Your father is a fool," I finally said. "But you didn't come here to hear me insult your father."

"Mind your words, pirate. We may work together, but I will not allow you to insult him!" he said menacingly, though I paid him no mind. "Here are documents about the Eldar."

"I see you know quite a lot about them," I replied, Browse the files. "But it's just the tip of the iceberg."

Guilliman stood gazing at the gate, still deeply contemplating certain moves he wished to make. To ensure the Imperium's survival in some form, the concept of Imperium Secundus was already forming in his mind, and for it to function efficiently, he needed capable individuals. Such as Harlock.

"I have a proposition."

"I'm listening," I replied, stroking Mister Bird, who had flown onto my shoulder.

"Ultramar will provide you with all necessary supplies. In return, I want you to aid our military efforts. You will also receive whatever you desire."

I measured him with my gaze; it sounded strange. "Desire" had negative connotations for me. But this proposition was good for me—a calm harbor in the turbulent waters of the Warp. However, I had to raise the price.

"Ultramar will provide the Arcadia with supplies for a period of fifteen thousand years. It guarantees her neutrality throughout the sector against religious, military, and administrative forces and undertakes not to act against her in any form. In return, the Arcadia will provide support in conflicts, provided she is not conducting her own operations in the given area at that time."

"You ask for a lot. How can I be sure you won't start attacking my ships one day?" he asked suspiciously, considering everything.

"Because you're talking to me, Captain Harlock," I said dryly, with a hint of pride.