Chapter 7: Are These Tin Cans Genuine?

Chapter 7: Are These Tin Cans Genuine?

When Romulus entered the chamber, all he saw were chunks of meat scattered across the deck, steadily leaking blood.

Chaos Space Marines.

Judging by the skull decorations and crimson paint on their armor, they were likely a warband dedicated to one of the four Great Ruinous Powers—Khorne.

After efficiently dispatching his foes, Arthur drew his sword from the wall and gently lifted the body of a fallen warrior in black armor. He confirmed the Crimson Fists chapter badge on the pauldron, then carefully inspected the suit of Mark VII Aquila armor, a frown creasing his brow.

The members of this Kill-team aren't Primaris Marines. It seems the Imperial Regent, Guilliman, hasn't woken up yet.

He tilted his head, listening.

Aside from the faint echoes of "Blood for the Blood God!" and the wet chunk of axes biting into flesh, there were no other sounds of combat. That, combined with the bodies of the Deathwatch marines and the Chaos Marines who had just attacked him, all pointed to one conclusion: the resisting forces in this chamber had been neutralized.

"Looks like we were too late," Arthur said. The thick stench of blood assailed his senses, a clear sign of some Warp-born influence, as his armor's self-contained rebreather should have filtered it out completely.

"There's still time," Romulus countered. His gaze fell upon the neck and chest of a fallen loyalist. Two gruesome, gaping holes had been violently gouged into the armor, as if some vital organs had been torn out. "Chaos Space Marines and daemons aren't on the same side. The Traitors won't let the daemons snatch their spoils before they've had their fill."

"...Right," Arthur said, remembering this crucial detail as he gently laid the Deathwatch marine's body down.

As superhuman warriors created through nineteen stages of surgical implantation, every Space Marine carries two precious organs known as the Progenoid Glands, which contain the Chapter's gene-seed. After the eighteenth surgery implants the Biscopea and Sus-an Membrane, the gene-seed matures along with the Marine's body. After five years, the gland in the neck is mature and can be harvested. After ten years, the gland in the chest is ready.

The former is typically harvested at regular intervals to pay the Imperium's gene-seed tithe and to maintain the Chapter's reserves. The latter is usually recovered by an Apothecary after a Space Marine has fallen in battle.

Gene-seed is the very foundation of a Space Marine Chapter. Should it suffer from mutation or be lost in large quantities, it can signal the death of a Chapter, which can only be saved through the aid of its Primogenitor Chapter and the High Lords of Terra.

For Chaos Space Marines, whose bodies are heavily mutated and who have lost the Imperium's logistical support, plundering the gene-seed of loyalist Astartes is one of their few methods of reinforcement.

Likewise, thanks to a certain Big Guy who claimed to despise the Warp but still used a heavy dose of it when creating his Space Marines, gene-seed is a hot commodity among the daemons of the Immaterium, considered an exceptionally rare and potent component in blasphemous rituals.

So, it made sense that the Chaos Space Marines attacking the Gellar Field Generator hadn't destroyed it immediately. A leopard does not share its kill with hyenas. It was even possible that after the fighting was done, they planned to hijack the entire ship and leave the daemons outside to stare in envy.

Drawing upon his knowledge of this universe's grim secrets, Arthur quickly pieced together the situation.

But still—

"Is two of us enough?" Arthur asked, suggesting they should probably wait for the Sisters of Battle. By his calculations, they should arrive within the minute. These power-armored warrior women, enhanced by augmetics and shielded by their own fanatical faith in the Emperor, were ideal allies for Space Marines. His transhuman brain told him that the combat signatures in this chamber alone were from a squad of at least sixteen hostiles. The enemies they faced now were Space Marines, not the slow, pathetic rabble they'd been carving through before.

"Two?" Romulus scoffed. "Who said there are only two of us?"

"?"

Arthur tilted his head in confusion. He glanced back, and from the shadows behind Romulus, a squad of Ultramarines in cobalt-blue armor seemed to simply... grow into existence.

"Hiss... so it actually works. But damn, these souls are expensive," Romulus muttered to himself.

"Huh?"

Arthur stared at the Ultramarines, who looked like they'd been pulled from Romulus's back pocket. He felt his mind reel, as if he were staring into a dizzying galaxy of possibilities.

"I scanned this one and replicated him," Romulus explained, pointing at a fallen loyalist on the ground whose pauldron bore the Omega symbol above a veteran's skull. He then patted the shoulder of one of his newly created marines. "Standard Firstborn Space Marine physique, but the soul was too abstractly expensive and would have required custom programming, so I didn't install one. I'll have to pilot them manually for now, but it'll be enough."

"I'm almost certain we haven't been touched by a Chaos God," Arthur said, shaking his head as he studied the machine-like Ultramarines. His theory that their strange powers were a "blessing" from the Warp was beginning to waver. If a Chaos God could just pop fully-formed Space Marines into existence for their daemons to possess, why would they bother whispering sweet nothings into the ears of the High Lords, coaxing them into launching penitent crusades that served up loyalists on a platter?

Of course, he couldn't rule out the possibility that this was some kind of chaotic subsidy, an investment they hoped would yield a greater return later. Judging by how Tzeentch had manipulated the primarch Magnus, the four masters of the Empyrean certainly didn't lack the capital or the patience for such long-term schemes.

Even a primarch with superhuman intellect could be deceived. Arthur was just a young man raised in the greenhouse of the 3rd Millennium. He didn't trust his own wisdom to discern the truth of this anomaly, and he didn't have the courage to gamble on it.

In short, until they could get out of the Warp and find a Blank to verify whether their powers were tied to the Immaterium, his policy was: doubt, then doubt again.

"Indeed," Romulus nodded, then nudged Arthur forward. "You go up and draw their fire. My boys will have a dozen guns waiting for them."

The confined spaces inside a starship meant that combat was decided by who fired first and whose firepower could overwhelm the enemy before they did the same to you. The side with superior firepower always had the advantage in ship-to-ship boarding actions, which was why it wasn't uncommon for an Astartes to be taken down by a well-placed shot from a mortal.

And with a dozen bolters and meltas providing fire support from behind, crushing a band of supply-deprived heretics would be simple.

"Right. Let's move," Arthur said, shaking his head to focus. He braced his shield and, in a low crouch, began to swiftly clear the chamber.

The Chaos Marine he'd killed wasn't the only one lurking here.

But the heretics, having already won their battle, were not on guard for a force that should not have been there. Many of the Chaos Marines who leapt down to attack Arthur did so with expressions of pure disbelief when they saw the line of blue giants arrayed behind him. Chaos had granted them powerful bodies and keen combat instincts, but those instincts couldn't help them withstand a saturation barrage of bolter fire in a confined space.

Arthur, meanwhile, focused completely on his task, maintaining a perfect defensive posture as he advanced.

They pushed forward until they reached the base of the generator, a slightly more open area.

Here, the sickening stench of blood reached its zenith.

(End of Chapter)