Chapter 81: The Broke Space Marine
"Set them up, nice and neat."
"A little to the left... too far! Back a bit."
"Yes, just like that."
Omega, barking orders, directed an apprentice piloting a Sentinel walker to place the exhibits in their proper positions. Before coming to Warhammer, Omega had always had a little dream of opening a shop. It hadn't come true then, but now, he was living the dream in another world.
Looking at the array of weapons and equipment on display, Omega felt that something was missing, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He could only frown and think hard.
Rhea and the others, who had been dragged from their labs to be the "atmosphere group," watched him with a lack of understanding. Flower baskets, carpets, even the placement of each item had to be adjusted by him personally. "Omega, it's fine already. Just let the apprentices handle it. Why do you have to do it yourself?" Aedus advised. In their eyes, Omega was being very unprofessional. Wouldn't it be better to be in the lab, doing experiments?
Omega, his little dream being belittled, said unhappily to the cog-head, "Do you know how many supplies so many people on this ship go through every day? If you're not in charge, you don't know how expensive sacred oils are. I'll just switch your food rations to starch bars!"
Aedus shrugged at the others. They all smiled wryly. They knew this state of Omega all too well. Once he got interested in something, whoever tried to persuade him would get an earful, and he would come up with all sorts of grand arguments to prove he was right. Of course, these grand arguments were just Omega being sophistical. For example, the Cogboy's own material collection and recycling systems could make them completely self-sufficient, with no need to buy anything extra.
"Persuading" Omega in this state was useless. You either had to wait for his interest to wane, or bring out Magos Laust. But Laust had also approved of this shop idea, so no one could stop him.
"Oh, I remember now! Come, come, put a spotlight on each exhibit. I knew something was missing."
While Omega was shouting and directing the apprentices to light the exhibits, Orn, who had been observing from the shadows, decided to go and take a look at Omega's shop. He was about to do something that would tarnish his honor. Tarnish it, then. I'll just chop a few more xenos heads to earn it back, Orn consoled himself.
The moment the Space Marine appeared, he was spotted by a sharp-eyed apprentice. The apprentice, while informing Omega, rushed forward with a warm welcome. Magos Omega had said, whoever makes a sale gets a commission, and the commission can be exchanged for technology.
"Greetings, my lord. Is there anything you need?"
Orn, who was already feeling guilty for just planning to look and touch, was taken aback by the apprentice's enthusiastic greeting. He felt the urge to turn and leave, but the "treasure" he had been dreaming of was right before his eyes, within reach. He couldn't bear to leave.
"Err... just looking, just looking."
"Please, my lord, feel free to say what you like. Our shop welcomes you to try before you buy."
"Good, good. This one..." Orn, in the end, was too ashamed to finish his sentence.
But how could a sharp-eyed apprentice not see what the other party wanted? Ever since the Space Marine had arrived, his eyes had not left the power sword. He tried to take the sword down, but it was too heavy for a mortal. In the process, the tip and blade of the sword scraped against the adamantium display stand, making the Space Marine's eyelids twitch.
"I'll do it! Let me!" Orn couldn't help but shout, grabbing the hilt and lifting the sword.
The apprentice breathed a sigh of relief. He had been afraid of his hand slipping and the power sword falling. To get a work injury before he had even started... Seeing the Space Marine already examining the power sword in his hands, he quickly began his introduction. "My lord, this power sword is a new model, designed and improved by Magos Omega."
"New model?" Orn asked, not seeing any difference.
"Yes, my lord. As a frequent user of power weapons, you should know their shortcomings. And this power sword overcomes those shortcomings."
"Hmm... tell me how."
Orn's thought: Sorry, I'm a rookie. I've never used one. I don't know.
"A conventional power sword consumes a huge amount of energy," the apprentice continued. "Endurance has always been the biggest problem. The more intense the battle, the more frequently the disruption field is activated, and the faster the energy is consumed. Once the power cell is depleted, the divine weapon that can cut through steel like mud immediately becomes an ordinary melee weapon."
The Space Marine was already imagining the scene in his mind: the Chapter Master, after three hundred rounds with a heretic, feigns an opening to lure the enemy in. The heretic takes the bait, but just as the Chapter Master is about to finish him off, the power sword in his hand no longer emits the blue light of the disruption field. It only leaves a scratch on the enemy's armor. The enemy then takes the opportunity to cut the Chapter Master, sword and all, in two.
"No—" Orn growled.
"Hmm? My lord, did I say something wrong? My apologies, I—" the apprentice asked, bewildered.
"No, it's not you. Continue," the Space Marine explained awkwardly. He now wanted to run back and tell the Chapter Master that this weakness could get him killed. But the sword in his hand made him reluctant to leave. Let the Chapter Master be in danger for a little while longer. Just a little while. It's not a big problem, Orn thought.
"This model, improved by Magos Omega, uses a technology he has restored, a wireless power supply technology from humanity's Golden Age. You just need to install a small component on the external interface of your power pack, and you can achieve wireless power supply to this power sword. As long as your power armor's energy is not depleted, this power sword can have an infinite endurance! With this power sword, my lord, all you have to do is turn on the disruption field. The other party will have to think a lot more about how to parry!"
"Good!" Orn also praised. He thought this power sword was great. With it, he could chop xenos on the battlefield however he wanted. If he wanted to chop horizontally, he would chop horizontally. If he wanted to chop vertically, he would chop vertically. He was tired of his chainsword running out of fuel and just being a club. The Chapter's relics were starting to feel a little unworthy of him.
Hearing the Space Marine's praise, the apprentice was already thinking about how Magos Omega would reward him for making the first sale. He couldn't quite imagine it, because Magos Omega was famously generous. His own limited imagination was not enough to fathom the "greatness" of Magos Omega. But the inexperienced apprentice never knew that a Space Marine had no personal property to dispose of. So the possibility of him making a sale had never existed from the very beginning.
Under the apprentice's eager and fiery gaze, the Astartes, who could cut down xenos without batting an eye, now wanted to run away. But he had not yet completed his original goal—to perform a set of sword forms with the power sword. He still couldn't bear to leave.
Honor or the power sword? Orn was hesitating, conflicted, wavering...
"Oh, you like this sword?"
"I do," Orn blurted out, and immediately regretted it. He looked down in the direction of the voice and saw a human cub.
Orn's thought: Whose child is this...
"Magos Omega, you're here," the apprentice said, bowing to Omega.
Awesome, Orn thought, giving the creator of this power sword a mental thumbs-up.
"It's good that you like it. Are you planning on getting one?"
"..." The Space Marine responded with silence.
Omega slapped his forehead. "We haven't officially opened yet, and the price list isn't public. My mistake."
Orn's thought: I can't afford it even if it's public.
"Let me give you a brief overview."
No! I don't have any money! The Space Marine wanted to stop Magos Omega from continuing, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.
"I accept minerals here, materials like adamantium, plasteel, ceramite, and so on."
I don't have any. The Chapter does, but I'm not in charge, the broke Space Marine thought helplessly.
"Technological relics are also acceptable, good or bad. The value of a relic is much higher than that of materials."
Does the chainsword in my hand count as a relic? Several of my seniors have used it. When they got a new one, they gave the old one to me. It's quite old. The young Space Marine touched the chainsword at his waist, which was older than he was, and began to fantasize. Could this chainsword have been passed down from the Great Crusade?
"STCs have the highest value."
"..." The Space Marine remained silent.
Omega knew that his requirements were indeed difficult for an ordinary Space Marine. But this was all just a preamble. What he was about to say was the main point. "I am staying here to help the expeditionary force of the O'nyl war zone fight the xenos. So xenos technological artifacts are also acceptable. But I only accept relatively complete ones. I intend to see if I can find their weaknesses through these xenos artifacts. I will only accept three of each kind. First come, first served. We haven't opened for business yet, so if you have any in your spoils of war, you can take them out."
Ah, why didn't I pick up all the xenos weapons on the battlefield? My power sword! Orn, annoyed, wanted to slap himself. He raised his hand, but the bloodstains on his gauntlet reminded him that he still had a chance. "Wait for me!" the Space Marine said and ran off. He was so fast that the wind he created blew open the hood on Omega's head, revealing a stubborn cowlick. Omega and the apprentice looked at each other. Since the customer had asked them to wait, they would wait.
Orn was running. He no longer cared if this would tarnish his image as a Space Marine. He had to get back to his spoils of war before the reclamation team cleaned them up. When he reached the site where the traitors had been executed, he saw from a distance that someone was already carrying away the traitors' bodies. He had almost missed the power sword again. He shouted anxiously, "Let go of that traitor! Let me do it!"
According to the person in charge of the reclamation team, years later, the sight of this panting Space Marine, with a look of greed and desire on his face, stripping the traitor's body clean, was the psychological trauma of his life.