As the planet Aisha's Tears was embroiled in continuous warfare and the evacuation operation was underway, far away in the core star systems of Ultramar, the Macragge's Honour and its massive Ultramarines main fleet had already received urgent orders from the front line. All engines were overloaded, and they were tearing through the veil between the Warp and real space at astonishing speed, rushing full-throttle towards the Aisha's Tears system.
Inside the battleship, not everyone was clear about what exactly was happening on the front lines. Eilaas, the Aeldari girl who had lived on an Ultramarines battleship for decades, was currently in her small "boudoir," converted from a defunct parts warehouse. The room was not large, filled with various tools, cables, half-finished mechanical creations, and some shiny trinkets she had collected from who knows where, making it appear somewhat cluttered but full of her personal style.
She didn't know exactly what was happening, but such a large-scale emergency deployment of the entire main fleet, even involving the flagship she was on, made it clear that it was certainly no small matter, nor was it for some friendly visit. A faint sense of unease lingered in her heart, but she quickly dismissed it—after all, if the sky fell, those Warriors in blue power armor would bear the brunt of it.
At this moment, she was sitting cross-legged on the ground, nodding with satisfaction at the prototype of a weapon she had just finished assembling, which looked quite... "wild."
It was a "quad-barreled assault cannon" she had cobbled together from four standard-issue assault cannons, after disassembling, modifying, and reassembling them, and adding her own designed cooling system and ammunition feed.
The thick barrels were arranged side-by-side, full of violent aesthetics, and the firepower was theoretically doubled compared to the Chapter's standard dual-barreled assault cannons!
"Hehe, I really am a genius!" Eilaas clapped her hands, as if dusting off non-existent dirt, a triumphant smile spreading across her small face.
"Next time, if any big, blind demons or bugs dare to intrude again, I'll let them taste the might of Lady Eilaas!"
After admiring her "masterpiece," she yawned, feeling a bit sleepy.
She walked to the corner of the room, where a makeshift "bed"— cobbled together from discarded shock-absorbing materials and unknown animal hides—was placed.
She deftly took off her oil-stained Tech-Sergeant uniform and changed into a... rather special set of pajamas.
These pajamas were a "gift" that Chapter Master Marius Calgar had brought back for her when he returned to Macragge to attend the Five Hundred Worlds Council not long ago.
The pajamas were made of soft blue cotton, with a slightly cartoonish Ultramarines helmet printed on the front, surrounded by the emblem of the Macragge's Honour.
The style was completely at odds with the solemnity of an Astartes Chapter, but Eilaas loved them.
She climbed onto her creaky little bed, picked up a large mirror shard, smoothly polished at the edges, that she had removed from a discarded observation lens, made a few funny faces at herself in the mirror, tidied her short hair, and preened for a bit.
"Hmm, it's me after all, I look good in anything!" She nodded with satisfaction, placed the mirror aside, pulled over a small blanket she had also sewn herself from scraps, adorned with a crooked gear pattern, and covered herself, preparing for a good night's sleep, temporarily shutting out all external disturbances.
When the massive fleet of the Ultramarines main force appeared like a divine armada on the outskirts of the Aisha's Tears system, the battle on the planet's surface was already nearing its end.
Three strike cruisers that had arrived earlier—the Pride of Ultramar, the Indomitable, and the Cleansing Blade—had successfully recovered all ground forces.
Despite the fierce fighting, under efficient command and powerful fire support, although many Warriors from the three companies involved in the operation were wounded, especially the Sanks Squad of the First Company, almost everyone was injured, fortunately, there were no fatalities, which was undoubtedly a blessing in disguise.
Inside the bridge of the Macragge's Honour, the imposing figure of Chapter Master Marius Calgar stood before the massive observation window, gazing at the already ravaged Eldar planet.
He connected to the Pride of Ultramar.
"Cassius, report the situation."
"Chapter Master," Captain Cassius's voice came through, tinged with the fatigue of battle but still steady, "All personnel involved in the operation have been safely withdrawn.
Approximately eight thousand Eldar survivors have been temporarily accommodated on my ship and the strike cruisers of the 2nd and Third Companies.
The target relic has been successfully recovered and is currently sealed within a highest-level stasis field, with stable energy readings."
Calgar listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the armrest of his throne.
A moment later, he made his decision:
"Transfer all those Eldar to the accompanying supply ship 'Bounty'.
Notify Company Commander Orpha, and have his 10th Company be responsible for allocating independent living areas for them on the supply ship, providing the best possible living conditions and food standards we can offer, ensuring their basic survival needs."
He paused, his tone becoming serious:
"As for those Eldar Warriors who can still fight, mainly the Striking Scorpions, you are responsible for bringing all of them to the Macragge's Honour for centralized supervision.
Until their complete harmlessness is confirmed and trust is established, they are not to be mixed with civilians, nor are they to be allowed to move freely on our warships."
Finally, he mentioned the key individual:
"And that Eldar Farseer, Kolesa, I also want to see her.
Bring her along as well."
His gaze once again fell upon the planet outside the observation window, with no mercy in his eyes, only the coldness of a strategist:
"As for Aisha's Tears... this planet has been thoroughly contaminated by the Tyranids, and the traces of Eldar civilization have been largely destroyed; it has no value for salvation.
I authorize the Pride of Ultramar to use Cyclone torpedoes to execute an Exterminatus.
Purify it completely; the Tyranids must not gain even a single unit of biomass from it."
"Understood, Chapter Master!" Captain Cassius unhesitatingly accepted the order.
Soon after, a Cyclone torpedo, armed with a devastating purification warhead, quietly launched from the Pride of Ultramar's launch tube, trailing a pale blue exhaust plume, and accurately struck the planet Aisha's Tears.
There was no earth-shattering explosion, only an invisible energy wave that swept across the entire planet.
When the light dissipated, observation instruments showed that all biological signals on the planet's surface, whether residual Tyranids or any minuscule native life, had completely vanished.
The entire planet was transformed into a silent, vitrified wasteland.
A once beautiful Eldar Craftworld was thus completely erased from the galaxy's star charts.
Within the medical bay of the Pride of Ultramar, the atmosphere was relatively quiet.
Gaius and Dorian, after emergency treatment by the Apothecary and recovery enhanced by their gene-seed, had stable injuries and were in deep recuperative sleep.
They were placed in adjacent medical pods.
In another medical room next to them, Kolesa lay quietly on a medical bed.
She had shed her blood-stained and dusty Farseer robe, changing into a clean, white, loose recovery gown typically used by Astartes Monks, which, despite being resized, still appeared somewhat large on her tall, slender frame.
Intravenous lines were connected to her arm, and nutrient-rich, restorative fluids were slowly being infused into her body, nourishing her nearly depleted form from excessive exertion.
She felt much better than before; at least the feeling of weakness that threatened to make her faint at any moment had significantly lessened.
She lay quietly, her gaze somewhat lost on the soft light of the ceiling, her thoughts in disarray.
Just then, she noticed an Apothecary enter to record data; he wore standard white Power Armor, but one of his shoulder pads was painted blue, symbolizing the Ultramarines, while the other was painted white and bore the emblem of the First Company.
'Humans... truly a strange race,' Kolesa thought silently to herself.
'They belong to the same Chapter, yet why do they distinguish the colors of their armor? Is it to differentiate roles? Or some kind of ritualistic meaning that we cannot comprehend?'
Just then, steady, powerful footsteps and the faint sound of Power Armor components rubbing together came from outside the medical room.
The two First Company Warriors guarding the door seemed to notice something, immediately straightened their bodies, and struck their left chests with a clenched right fist, performing a standard military salute.
The medical room's sliding door opened silently.
Company Commander Cassius and Lieutenant Golden entered, one after the other.
Captain Cassius was still wearing his imposing artificer Power Armor, only his helmet was removed, revealing a weathered, hard-featured middle-aged male face with sharp, eagle-like eyes.
Lieutenant Golden quietly followed behind him.
Captain Cassius's gaze fell upon Kolesa, appraising her complexion, seemingly confirming that she was recovering well.
He pondered for a moment, as if considering how to begin, then tilted his head slightly and, in a volume only they could hear, quietly asked Golden beside him:
"Her name... what was it again?"
A flicker of barely perceptible helplessness crossed Lieutenant Golden's face as he quickly whispered in response: "Kolesa, Captain. Ms. Kolesa."
Captain Cassius showed a hint of understanding, looked back at Kolesa, cleared his throat, and in his usual authoritative yet steady tone, said:
"Ms. Kolesa."
Kolesa turned her gaze to him, quietly awaiting his next words.
"By the Chapter Master's order, once your physical condition allows, you will accompany us to the flagship, the Macragge's Honour.
At that time, you will personally meet our Chapter Master, Lord Marius Calgar, and hand over the holy relic to him, completing our transaction."
He informed her of the arrangements, then mentioned her people:
"As for your people, the civilians, we have already properly settled them on the 'Bounty' supply ship accompanying the fleet.
The logistics company and their Company Commander Orpha will be responsible for providing them with the best supplies and accommodation, ensuring their well-being, until you contact other Eldar Craftworlds, or..."
He paused, his tone softening by an almost imperceptible degree:
"...or, if they wish, they can choose to stay.
After all, an Eldar girl has lived on our warship for several decades now, and it seems... it's no big deal."
Finally, he changed his tone, seemingly trying to force a somewhat "relaxed" expression onto his face, but it looked more like he was conducting some kind of tactical deployment analysis, and said in a half-joking manner:
"Farseer Kolesa, you haven't forgotten... what I told you on the ground, have you?"
He pointed in the direction of the next room:
"My Warriors, in order to protect you and your people, are almost all wounded.
Especially Sergeant Karl, who, to protect you, took a solid blow from that monster's blade to his back, almost costing him his life."
He looked into Kolesa's purple eyes, deliberately drawing out his words:
"As for the price... it's waived."
He paused, seemingly observing Kolesa's reaction, before continuing:
"But, we can't just..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear—we paid a price, we saved you, and while we're not pursuing it, shouldn't you show some appreciation?
Kolesa was momentarily stunned by his sudden, somewhat awkward "bargaining."
She looked at this powerful, seemingly ruthless Astartes Company Commander, who was now speaking in an almost... mercenary way, and for a moment, she couldn't react.
A trace of bewilderment and bitterness appeared on her pale face, and she whispered: "Your Excellency, Captain... I... I have lost my home, my world, everything... I... have nothing to... offer you..."
Her voice carried a barely perceptible tremor, the last dignity and helplessness of one whose nation had fallen.
Lieutenant Golden, standing nearby, watched his Captain's clumsy "joke" and Kolesa's tearful expression, feeling a strange embarrassment.
He couldn't help but gently nudge Captain Cassius's arm with his elbow, signaling him to stop.
Captain Cassius also seemed to realize that his "humor" wasn't very successful.
He stroked the stiff stubble on his chin and grunted dismissively: "Alright, I know.
You rest well and recover quickly.
Someone will inform you about going to the flagship."
With that, he said no more, turned, and left the medical room with Golden, leaving Kolesa alone to reflect on this complex and ineffable first formal negotiation.
Kolesa's recovery speed was remarkably fast, even by the standards of an Astartes Apothecary. This might have been due to her powerful Eldar physique and the highly effective treatment methods provided unreservedly by the Ultramarines, which had some universal applicability even to xenos physiology. After resting in the medical bay for less than one standard day, she already felt the weakness in her body significantly recede. Although her energy was still depleted, her basic mobility was unimpaired.
Lying on the cold medical bed, listening to the eternal, low hum of the warship's engines, and feeling this environment constructed entirely of metal and rationality, an indescribable sense of stuffiness welled up in Kolesa's heart. She longed to move, to breathe the air outside the medical area, which might be equally cold but different.
When the Apothecary responsible for monitoring her vital signs came again to record data, Kolesa gathered her courage and, with a voice that had regained some clarity but still carried a hint of weakness, requested:
"Esteemed Apothecary… I feel much better. I wonder… if I might be permitted… to move around a little nearby? I promise, I will only stay in the corridors near the medical area, I will not wander off, nor will I disturb anyone."
Her tone was one of cautious pleading, and her violet eyes looked at the Apothecary's face, hidden beneath his helmet, though she knew he likely couldn't see her expression.
The Apothecary paused his data pad. His cold optical sensors focused on Kolesa, seemingly scanning and analyzing her physiological data. After a few seconds of silence, he seemed to be requesting permission from a superior through his internal communicator.
After a brief wait, the Apothecary turned his head and replied in a voice devoid of emotion: "Request approved. Activity is restricted to corridors B7 to B12 on this deck, for no more than thirty minutes. You are not to approach any critical facilities, armories, or the bridge area. Any violation will result in immediate return to the medical bay and restriction of movement."
"Thank you for your consideration," Kolesa sighed slightly, expressing her sincere gratitude.
She carefully pulled out the IV tube from her arm, pushed aside the thin blanket covering her, and, with her bare, pale, and elegantly shaped feet, stepped onto the cold metal floor of the medical bay. She was still wearing the oversized white Astartes leisure suit, the soft fabric rubbing against her skin. Her long silver hair, woven like moonlight, was not tied up as it usually was during rituals, but cascaded down her back like a waterfall, almost reaching her waist.
After tidying her attire slightly, although this outfit seemed somewhat peculiar on a human warship, she still tried to maintain the inherent Eldar grace and stepped out of the medical bay.
The two First Company warriors guarding the door had clearly been notified. They merely cast a wary glance at her but did not stop her. However, their very presence was a silent form of surveillance.
Stepping into the internal corridor of the Pride of Ultramar, Kolesa truly felt the grandeur and oppressive nature of human craftsmanship. The corridor was wide and high, spacious enough for several Astartes in Terminator Armor to walk abreast. Overhead were neatly arranged lighting strips emitting a steady white glow, and underfoot was a smoothly polished alloy floor with anti-slip patterns. The walls were thick metal structures, covered with various pipe connections, emergency indicator lights, and communication panels.
The air was filled with a unique scent of a human warship—a strong smell of machine oil, the faint acridity of welded metal, the residual disinfectant odor after the filtration of the circulation system, and an… indescribable "body heat" generated by countless steel components in operation, almost like a living thing. This was utterly different from the Craftworld Aisha's Tears, an environment filled with psychic echoes, natural materials, and elegant artistry, and instead was full of cold, pure utilitarianism and industrial power.
She walked slowly barefoot, feeling the coolness and slight vibrations from the floor as she traversed the steel corridor. Occasionally, human crew members in blue uniforms or junior Tech-Priests hurried past. Upon seeing this barefooted Eldar female with flowing silver hair, wearing ill-fitting clothes, they invariably cast surprised, curious, and even slightly wary glances, but quickly averted their eyes and continued their work. Discipline was etched into every corner of this warship.
As she reached a relatively spacious intersection near section B9, connecting several important compartments, her gaze was drawn to two figures leaning against the wall nearby.
It was Gaius and Dorian.
They clearly didn't need any activity permits here. Gaius's upper body was wrapped in thick white bandages, permeated with a slight medicinal scent, covering the two horrific wounds on his back torn by a Lictor. He wore standard Astartes Monks recuperation trousers, and his golden, slightly long hair was carefully combed back and tied with a simple band, revealing his forehead. On his forehead, a silver service stud gleamed with a cold light under the illumination, and above it, the golden laurel wreath, personally bestowed by Guilliman and symbolizing supreme honor, was still worn squarely and shone brightly, even during his recuperation.
His face had stern and distinct features, a high nose bridge, lips pressed into a firm straight line, and his azure eyes held a hint of post-injury fatigue, yet remained clear and sharp. Despite being in recovery, his body, honed by countless trials, still showed powerful, bulging muscles. His exposed upper body was covered with various scars—traces of laser burns, old wounds from shrapnel, and dense circular marks left by connections to power armor neural ports, like medals recording his long combat career.
Dorian, standing beside him, was even more conspicuous. He was a full head taller than Gaius, his physique as massive as a giant. He wore similar recuperation trousers, but his upper body was encased in a complex metal support frame, clearly used to stabilize and protect the severe abdominal wound inflicted by the Lictor. Even so, his muscles still bulged like bedrock, and his veins coiled like dragons on his arms and chest, seemingly containing explosive power, almost threatening to burst the support frame. His short black hair was shaved extremely short, almost a buzz cut, also revealing a silver service stud and the golden laurel wreath on his forehead, symbolizing valor and sacrifice. His face was rougher, with a square jaw, and his eyes held an undying ferocity and restlessness.
The two seemed to be conversing in low voices. Gaius's tone was calm, seemingly analyzing the details of the previous battle, while Dorian occasionally grumbled, apparently extremely impatient with forced rest.
Kolesa's appearance clearly caught their attention.
Almost simultaneously, Gaius and Dorian stopped talking and turned their gaze to the barefooted Eldar mystic with flowing silver hair, wearing oversized human clothing, who looked somewhat out of place in the steel corridor.
A flicker of imperceptible surprise crossed Gaius's azure eyes, quickly replaced by calm. He merely gave her a fleeting glance before returning his gaze to the front of the corridor, as if she were just an irrelevant moving background. Dorian's reaction was much more direct; he furrowed his thick, dark brows and openly scrutinized Kolesa from head to toe, his eyes filled with the inherent distrust of a xenos and a hint of confusion, "Why is this bean sprout out here?"
But both quickly withdrew their gazes and resumed their low conversation, choosing complete disregard. For an Astartes Monk, as long as this xenos did not violate regulations and posed no threat, her mere existence was not worth excessive attention. A transaction was a transaction, protection was protection, but this did not change her xenos nature.
Kolesa felt the scrutiny in their gazes and the subsequent indifference. She was not surprised, nor did she have any intention of striking up a conversation. She simply stood still for a moment, silently observing these two human warriors with whom her destiny had briefly intertwined.
Looking at Gaius's handsome and resolute profile, at the scars and interfaces on his body that spoke of endless battles, at the service stud and laurel wreath on his forehead symbolizing honor and years; then looking at Dorian's massive body, like an embodiment of war, and his restless aura.
A complex emotion couldn't help but rise in her heart again. These humans, these superhuman warriors known as the "Emperor's Angels of Death," possessed such immense power, such tenacious vitality, and… such a pure and cold will to fight. They could be ruthless for a mission, yet also extend conditional aid for a promise. They were so contradictory, yet so… truly existent.
She gently gathered the oversized clothes on her body, her toes curling slightly on the cold floor, then turned and continued to silently stroll along the permitted route, gradually etching the grandeur and coldness of this human steel behemoth, and those silent yet powerful blue figures, into her weathered memory.
Kolesa leaned against the cold metal railing, looking down at the massive hangar bay several levels below. It was like a tireless steel beehive, with countless figures bustling about.
Mortal crewmen in dark blue uniforms hurried, pushing transport carts laden with parts or ammunition; Tech-Priests in dark red robes, their bodies flashing with indicator lights and the cold glow of mechanical prosthetics, used binary speech to direct servo-skulls and servitors in precise maintenance; and Tech-Sergeants in blue power armor, carrying various toolkits, focused on maintaining the massive Thunderhawk Gunships and Stormraven Gunships.
This scene was starkly different from the elegant, serene, and psychic-light-filled environment of Craftworld Aisha's Tears she remembered.
The interior of the human warship was filled with raw efficiency, pure pragmatism, and a… almost savage, vibrant industrial energy.
Various sounds—the hum of engines, the clang of metal, the tap of tools, muffled commands—interwove into a noisy yet orderly symphony, momentarily dazzling her and making it hard to distinguish the specific duties of the busy figures.
Just as she was immersed in this unfamiliar scene of the human world, an extremely heavy, oppressive sound of footsteps, like muffled thunder, came from the other end of the corridor, interrupting her thoughts.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The sound was not chaotic but perfectly synchronized, each step seeming to fall on the beat of a heartbeat, causing the entire metal corridor to subtly tremble.
Gaius, Dorian, and other injured individuals active in the medical bay seemed accustomed to it, not even looking up, continuing their activities or conversations.
Kolesa turned her head curiously, looking in the direction of the sound.
At the somewhat dim end of the corridor, several incredibly tall, burly figures, like mobile fortresses, were slowly appearing, marching with steady and unstoppable strides!
The two Terminators leading the way were particularly massive; their armor style was different from any model Kolesa had seen before, heavier, with more ancient and imposing lines, filled with the weighty sense of history from ten millennia ago.
Their shoulder pads were huge, like two semicircular door panels, engraved with ancient victory emblems and the Ultramarines' insignia; their helmets were solemn and majestic, as if war machines had stepped out of the river of history.
These were precisely the two Saturnine Terminator warriors who had guarded Captain Cassius like mountains on the ground! Their mere presence, walking there, exuded an aura capable of chilling any foe.
Following closely behind were three warriors clad in Ironclad Pattern Terminator Armor.
Their armor was equally massive, like humanoid battering rams, with huge Storm Shields on their backs, and in their hands, they clutched terrifying Storm Bolters or Assault Cannons, each step taken with the determination to crush all obstacles.
At the end of the squad were three Indomitus Pattern Terminator warriors.
Although slightly smaller than the first two, their armor was still indestructible, and they carried even heavier, seemingly destructive heavy weapons—multi-melta guns or twin-linked lascannons—their cold muzzles appearing ready to spew purifying flames and beams at any moment.
A total of eight Terminator warriors! They formed a small but battlefield-shaking steel torrent, marching through the corridor!
Their massive bodies almost occupied half the width of the corridor, their heads nearly touching the pipes above.
Each contact of their heavy metal boots with the alloy floor produced a deafening "clang" sound, as if they were not walking, but constantly hammering the warship's frame with giant mallets!
Even the air seemed to become thick and heavy as they passed, an invisible, suffocating war-like pressure permeating the space.
Kolesa's slender figure, clad in oversized casual clothes, appeared so tiny and fragile before these eight Terminators.
Her entire body was not even as wide as the heavily armored thigh of any one Terminator warrior.
She instinctively took half a step back, her spine pressed against the cold railing, and looked up, her purple eyes involuntarily revealing admiration and a hint of imperceptible awe.
She curiously observed these peak creations of human craftsmanship and war art, wondering what kind of unyielding combat souls were housed within these cold metal war-suits.
As this Terminator patrol passed by Kolesa, the eight pairs of eyes hidden beneath the heavy helmets almost simultaneously cast their gaze upon her.
The gaze was not hostile, but a pure, condescending scrutiny and curiosity, as if evaluating an unusual object that had suddenly appeared on their predetermined route.
Their gaze lingered on her for a brief moment, and after confirming she posed no threat and was within the allowed activity area, it quickly moved away, continuing to focus on their patrol mission, rumbling past her with their floor-shaking strides.
However, when they passed Gaius, who was leaning against the wall, still wrapped in bandages, the situation was different.
The leading Saturnine Terminator, as well as the Ironclad and Indomitus Terminators behind him, all slightly tilted their majestic heads towards Gaius, making a clear and visible nod of salute.
This was a gesture of recognition and courtesy within an Astartes Chapter, from high-ranking veterans to Sergeants who had performed exceptionally and earned merits.
Although Gaius was not wearing power armor at the moment and was injured, the respect he received was not diminished.
Gaius also felt this salute; he straightened his back, which was slightly hunched due to his injuries, and solemnly returned the nod to the passing Terminators.
There were no words, only the silent respect and recognition shared between warriors.
Kolesa watched all of this silently, observing the terrifyingly imposing Terminator squad gradually move away, their heavy footsteps still echoing in the corridor until they disappeared around another corner.
She continued to gaze in the direction they had vanished, seemingly still savoring the awe-inspiring steel presence.
Just then, a relatively gentle, slightly mechanical female voice came from behind her:
"These are the First Company's Terminators; they are responsible for routine patrols and security alerts in the core areas of the warship."
Kolesa turned around and saw that it was Tech-Sergeant Luna speaking.
Luna was still wearing her standard Tech-Sergeant power armor, complete with tool slots and servo-arm connection points, but her backpack had been replaced with a brand new one, painted in dark blue, though currently only equipped with two basic multi-functional blessed arms, clearly still in the process of recovery.
She was not wearing her helmet, revealing her neatly trimmed, light pink short hair and a face that, compared to other Astartes, appeared quite delicate, even with a hint of feminine softness.
Her gaze was calm and focused, unlike other warriors who held obvious indifference or wariness towards Kolesa.
Luna looked at Kolesa's still-amazed eyes and continued to explain in her calm tone: "Their footsteps can be a bit noisy, especially when they're in a group.
However, you'll get used to it after spending some time on this ship."
Kolesa was somewhat surprised by Luna's initiative to speak, but also a little grateful, as it brought a faint warmth to this cold, steel world.
She nodded gently, indicating understanding.
Luna seemed to recall something and added: "Speaking of which, on our flagship, the Macragge's Honour, there is actually one of… your kind, although she belongs to the Dark Eldar sub-branch."
Upon hearing this, a flicker of surprise and confusion immediately crossed Kolesa's purple eyes.
She widened her eyes slightly and looked at Luna: "You humans… aren't you always known for your… exclusionary policies towards us?
Why would you allow a Dark Eldar to stay on your flagship for so long?"
This indeed exceeded Kolesa's understanding.
In her long life and the Eldar records, the Imperium of Man's attitude towards non-human races was almost always one of vigilance, hostility, and even complete annihilation.
On Luna's calm face, a faint, almost helpless smile seemed to appear; she gently shook her head and said: "It's a long story.
It dates back several decades to a… large-scale cleansing campaign targeting Commorragh, the core world of the Dark Eldar."
Hearing "Commorragh" and "cleansing campaign," Kolesa's gaze suddenly sharpened; she nodded, her tone carrying a hint of gravity:
"I know that battle… your armies, with the force of thunder… almost completely wiped Commorragh… from the galactic map…"
The ferocity and destructiveness of that campaign were widely known even among the various Craftworlds of the Eldar, regarded as a landmark event showcasing the Imperium of Man's ruthless military might.
The Aisha's Tears planet, under the purifying light of cyclonic torpedoes, was transformed into a silent, scorched wasteland, with any remaining Tyranids incinerated.
The Tyranid fleet, having lost its source of biomass on the planet's surface and any clear strategic objective, engaged in a brief but fierce long-range firefight with the well-prepared Ultramarines main fleet.
After this, it seemed to deem further entanglement unprofitable, and the massive, purple shadow composed of bio-ships rapidly retreated from this star system like an ebbing tide, disappearing into the vast Warp lanes.
With the crisis temporarily averted, the immense Ultramarines fleet began post-battle regrouping and assembly.
First Company warriors, along with members of other companies, having completed initial repairs and with their injuries under stable control, began orderly transfers from three forward strike cruisers to the flagship, Macragge's Honour.
This colossal battle carrier would serve as the Chapter's command center and primary rest base going forward.
As the central figures in this special 'transaction,' Witch Kolesa and Bishop Karion, 'escorted' by two Honour Guard warriors clad in Saturnine Terminator armor and exuding a presence as heavy as mountains, passed through layers of heavily guarded passages.
For the first time, they stepped into the innermost core area of this legendary Imperial warship: the Chapter Master's office.
Chapter Master Marius Calgar's office was a small strategic sanctuary.
The space was vast, with a soaring dome.
On one side was a massive observation window, looking out onto the deep starry sky and patrolling ships; the other side was covered with tactical star charts constantly updating data and communication arrays.
The air was filled with a mixture of ozone, ancient parchment, and power armor maintenance oil.
Chapter Master Calgar was not seated behind a desk.
He wore his ornate and majestic Archmagos-pattern power armor, etched with countless commendation insignia, and sat upon the elevated throne at the far end of the room, symbolizing the Chapter's supreme authority.
The deep blue livery of his power armor gleamed with a cold luster under the indoor lights, and the golden decorative lines and the Macragge's Honour emblem shone brightly.
He wore no helmet, revealing a weather-beaten face with features as hard as rock, and eyes as sharp as an eagle's, as if capable of piercing through all illusions.
Behind his throne, like two silent guardians, stood two other Honour Guard warriors, their presence further emphasizing the throne's majesty and inviolability.
And before the massive desk, crafted from a single piece of polished obsidian, Tenth Company Captain Orpha stood, reporting to the Chapter Master:
...Chapter Master, all Aeldari survivors have been settled in a segregated area on the supply ship 'Bounty,' with stable provisions.
Warriors from my company are responsible for external security, and their morale is generally stable.
Additionally, regarding the nutrient paste improvement project, Logistics and the Adeptus Mechanicus have submitted three new formulas, which are currently undergoing final taste and nutritional stability tests, expected to be...
Just then, the two Honour Guard warriors escorting Kolesa and Karion arrived at the office door.
They did not enter, but instead stood like two silent door guardians on either side of the entrance, then simultaneously raised their power-armored arms, making a concise and forceful 'enter' gesture.
Seeing this, Captain Orpha immediately ceased his report and silently retreated to the side, yielding the primary position.
Kolesa and Karion exchanged glances, both seeing the gravity in the other's eyes.
Bishop Karion took a deep breath; although still bandaged and moving somewhat stiffly due to his injuries, he tried to straighten his spine.
Kolesa, meanwhile, adjusted the overly loose white Astartes casual wear she was in, gently tucking her flowing silver hair behind her ears, striving to maintain the last vestiges of dignity of an Aeldari Farseer, and stepped into the oppressive office.
Chapter Master Calgar's sharp gaze swept over the two who had entered, like a tangible force.
He first looked at Bishop Karion, who was covered in bandages yet still striving to stand perfectly straight; there was no sympathy in his eyes, only an objective assessment of a warrior's injuries.
Then, his gaze fell upon Kolesa, lingering for a moment on her ill-fitting casual wear and pale cheeks.
Without any pleasantries or formalities, Chapter Master Calgar spoke directly, his voice deep and authoritative, echoing in the spacious office, every word carrying significant weight:
"Aeldari."
He directly named their race, his tone flat, yet imbued with an undeniable sense of detachment.
"The conflicts, suspicions, and hostilities between us have persisted for tens of thousands of years.
From the distant past until now.
Trust is the most extravagant luxury in this dark galaxy, and neither of us has ever truly possessed it."
His words were like a cold blade, cutting through false pleasantries and directly addressing the cruel historical reality.
"But now," he shifted his tone, his gaze deepening, "the situation is different.
You have lost your home, living as dependents, surviving at the mercy of... your former enemies, now your 'trading partners'."
He leaned forward slightly, his Archmagos power armor emitting a faint metallic rustle, and the oppressive feeling intensified:
"And we both know clearly that beneath this sky, there exists a threat far greater and more deadly than our ancient animosity—the all-consuming Tyranids, and those who seek to drag the real universe into eternal chaos... the Chaos Gods."
He paused, giving them time to digest his words, then continued, his tone still cold:
"I say this not to represent the Imperium, much less the Ultramarines Chapter, in seeking to forge any formal alliance with you.
Such naive and unrealistic ideas would only drag both of us into a deeper mire."
His gaze was like two cold awls, seemingly trying to pierce into the depths of Kolesa and Karion's souls:
"I am merely stating a fact, a reality you must recognize—the Aeldari, no matter how ancient or glorious you once were, are now merely... an insignificant pebble on the path of the Imperium of Man."
His voice was not loud, yet it carried an absolute confidence of controlling destiny:
"If the Imperium needs it, if circumstances demand it, you might temporarily be placed on the negotiating table, as a chess piece.
But if the Imperium no longer needs you, or if you try to become a stumbling block..."
His words deliberately paused here, the unspoken threat, like a cold chill, instantly permeated the entire room, sending a bone-chilling sensation through Kolesa and Karion.
...then, what awaits you is to be kicked aside and plunged into an abyss of eternal damnation."
These words were stark, ruthless, and completely unvarnished, thoroughly clarifying the fundamental stance of the Imperium of Man, or rather, the Ultramarines Chapter, towards the Aeldari—utility determines existence.
Just then, the office's sliding door silently opened again.
An Honour Guard warrior entered, holding a stasis field generator emitting a faint energy fluctuation.
Within its transparent field, the ancient, shield-like human relic floated.
The Honour Guard warrior first nodded solemnly to Chapter Master Calgar on the throne, then walked directly to Kolesa and extended the stasis field generator to her.
Kolesa looked at the artifact before her, which carried so much karma, took a deep breath, and extended her slender, pale arms, which seemed out of place in the surrounding steel environment, carefully, almost reverently, slowly taking the heavy stasis field.
Then, under everyone's gaze, she held the relic and slowly walked towards the elevated throne.
Arriving before the throne, she did not hesitate for a moment, bending her knees and gently kneeling on the cold, hard floor.
She leaned her body slightly forward, straightened her arms, and reverently lifted the relic, which held the stasis field, presenting it high to Marius Calgar, who was seated on the throne.
At this moment, she represented not only herself but also the last dignity of the Aisha's Tears craftworld and her determination to fulfill her promise.
Chapter Master Calgar looked down at the Aeldari witch kneeling at his feet, observing her humble yet resolute posture, his face devoid of any expression.
He slowly raised his power-armored hand, large and powerful, and easily took the stasis field from Kolesa's hands.
He brought the stasis field to his eyes, his gaze sharply scrutinizing the shield-shaped relic within.
It exhibited a dark golden metallic luster throughout, its surface etched with ancient human runes long lost.
Even through the stasis field, one could feel the stable and powerful energy fluctuations contained within.
This Imperial treasure, lost for over ten millennia, after countless twists and turns, even becoming the core of an alien city for a time, now finally returned to humanity, to the hands of the Ultramarines.
The lines on his usually stern and taut face seemed to relax slightly, an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
This was not merely the recovery of a powerful artifact, but also the successful fulfillment of a Chapter mission, an embodiment of his duty to the Primarch and the Imperium.
He examined it carefully for a moment, then handed it to an Honour Guard warrior standing behind the throne, and gravely instructed, "Take it to the Chapter Librarian for the most comprehensive inspection and analysis.
Ensure its stability and attempt to decipher the technology it contains."
"Yes, Chapter Master," the Honour Guard warrior solemnly accepted it, as if holding a sacred artifact, and turned to leave the office.
Calgar then redirected his gaze to Kolesa, who was still kneeling on the ground.
He looked at her bowed head, her flowing silver hair, and her shoulders trembling slightly from weakness and tension, remaining silent for a few seconds before speaking slowly in his characteristic voice, authoritative yet seemingly softened by a trace:
"Rise, Witch."
Kolesa stood up from the cold floor as she was told, a slight ache in her knees, but she still tried to maintain her balance. Bishop Karion also breathed a sigh of relief; although the Chapter Master's words were still cold, at least the transaction was complete, and the holy relic had been successfully handed over, which meant their people were now safe.
Chapter Master Calgar's gaze swept over the two again, returning to practical considerations.
"Regarding your arrangements," he said in a steady tone, as if deploying a routine patrol mission, "the main Ultramarines fleet will primarily conduct routine patrols and deterrence within the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar stellar region for the next three months. This means that you, and your people, will need to follow the fleet and remain in this stellar region for approximately three months."
He noticed the fleeting worry in Kolesa's and Karion's eyes and added, "However, you can rest assured. The Ultramarines keep their word. As long as you abide by the rules and do not engage in any actions that threaten the fleet's safety or violate your promises, we will, as agreed, grant you the highest treatment—within reasonable limits."
He paused slightly, offering a relatively long-term outlook:
"At that time, once the main fleet concludes this round of patrol missions, we will dispatch reliable transport vessels, equipped with necessary navigation and escort, to safely return you to the Aeldari Craftworld you have contacted and that is willing to receive you."
His gaze became a little more serious, falling upon Kolesa and Karion:
"But before then, as core personnel in this transaction, you, Witch Kolesa, and your Striking Scorpionss who are still capable of combat, must remain aboard the Macragge's Honour, under our centralized supervision and protection. This is for the safety of both parties, and we hope you can understand."
However, he changed the subject, saying something that surprised both Kolesa and Karion:
"Or… you could choose to stay."
No particular emotion could be discerned in Chapter Master Calgar's tone, as if he was merely stating an objective option.
"The Ultramarines are not inflexible. For xenos who can prove their worth and are willing to contribute to Ultramar and the Imperium, we will choose to accept them, under strict scrutiny and control."
His gaze seemed to inadvertently sweep over Kolesa's bare feet. Those fair, slender feet, so out of place in the surrounding steel environment, pressing against the cold, hard deck, caused a fleeting, almost imperceptible, and indescribable ripple in his heart, which had long been as unyielding as rock after countless battles. The feeling vanished in an instant, too quickly for him to even ponder.
He suppressed this inexplicable emotion, his gaze returning to Tenth Company Captain Orpha, who stood at attention, his tone regaining its usual authority and unquestionability:
"Orpha."
"Present! Chapter Master!" Orpha immediately straightened his body.
"I do not wish to see our 'guests' walking barefoot on the cold deck again. Make arrangements to prepare suitable boots and clothing for her and those Aeldari children, in accordance with their… living habits," Calgar commanded, placing a slight emphasis on the word "guests."
"Yes! Chapter Master!" Orpha accepted the order without hesitation.
Calgar paused, then added, with a hint of lingering annoyance for the thing that had tormented his taste buds for over two hundred years:
"Also, ensure that those children, and all Aeldari, do not eat our damned standard nutrient paste that fights in your mouth. If the Adeptus Mechanicus' improved new formula has passed testing, prioritize it for them. If it's not ready yet, find a way to procure some natural food from Macragge's civilian supplies."
"Understood! I will attend to it immediately!" Orpha accepted the order again, saluted the Chapter Master, then nodded slightly to Kolesa and Karion, before turning and quickly leaving the office to execute these seemingly trivial, yet subtly benevolent, commands.
Only Calgar, an Honour Guard warrior, Kolesa, and Karion remained in the office for the time being.
Calgar said to the other Honour Guard warrior standing behind the throne, "Go and inform Sergeant Karl Hohn to report here immediately."
"Yes," the Honour Guard warrior responded in a deep voice, departing with heavy steps.
Not long after, the office's sliding door opened again. Gaius Hohn entered. He had changed into a clean, dark blue Astartes Monks' daily uniform. The gruesome wound on his back was hidden by his clothing, but a subtle stiffness in his movements was still discernible. The golden laurel on his forehead and the silver service studs glinted in the light, and his handsome and resolute face showed absolute respect for the Chapter Master.
He walked to the center of the office, his right fist striking his left chest in a standard military salute, his voice clear and steady:
"Chapter Master, you sent for me?"
Calgar looked at the Sergeant, who had performed admirably in the recent mission but was also severely wounded. His gaze rested on him for a moment before he nodded and issued direct instructions:
"Sergeant Karl, Witch Kolesa's temporary quarters have been arranged next to your personal cabin. Her status is special, and she requires close supervision. You will take her there shortly to familiarize her with the environment."
He then looked at Bishop Karion: "As for you, Striking Scorpions, you and your team members will be uniformly housed in a designated area, living with other Striking Scorpions, under the care of specialized personnel. Someone will take you there shortly."
"Yes! Chapter Master!" Gaius Hohn had no objections, accepting the order with crisp efficiency.
"Go," Calgar waved his hand.
Gaius Hohn saluted again, then turned to Kolesa, making a 'please' gesture, his tone calm and even: "Lady Kolesa, please follow me."
Kolesa glanced at Bishop Karion, signaling with her eyes for him to rest assured, then bowed slightly towards the throne as a farewell, before following Gaius Hohn out of the Chapter Master's office.
Leaving the oppressive room and walking through the relatively "normal" battleship corridor, Kolesa looked at the tall, upright figure walking ahead. Even without wearing power armor, Gaius Hohn's height and build far exceeded that of an ordinary human; she had to tilt her head slightly to see his shoulders. She hesitated for a moment, then spoke in her low voice, with the distinctive melodious cadence of the Aeldari:
"Warrior… thank you for saving me on the ground… I will repay this kindness… in my own way."
Gaius Hohn did not stop walking or turn his head, merely replying in his usual calm, emotionless tone:
"Protecting key personnel for the mission and ensuring the smooth progress of the transaction is my duty. Lady Kolesa, you need not be concerned; it is merely part of my responsibilities."
His reply was rational and restrained, attributing his actions entirely to mission requirements, without any hint of seeking credit or expecting a reward.
Hearing this, Kolesa said nothing more, simply following silently behind him.
Gaius Hohn led her through several corridors, eventually arriving at the primary living and resting area for First Company warriors. The atmosphere here was relatively more relaxed than the office area and hangar, though still neat, orderly, and militaristic. Some warriors could be seen resting, maintaining equipment, or conversing in low voices.
They walked towards a relatively concentrated area of common rooms. As they approached the entrance of one of the larger common rooms, they heard a clear, somewhat excited and boastful female voice from inside, along with several deep, questioning male voices.
"…Look here! Look here! Four barrels! I call it 'Eilaas's Storm'! It has much more firepower than that big thing you guys use!" This was Eilaas's voice.
"Uh… little bean sprout, this thing of yours… why does it look like you just welded four assault cannons together?" This was Dorian's rough and puzzled voice; he was clearly still wearing his auxiliary brace, making movement difficult.
"Brother Dorian is right," another more steady voice spoke, belonging to Draxler, "However… Tech-Sergeant Eilaas, with all due respect, modifying and assembling four standard-issue assault cannons in this manner, not to mention structural integrity issues, the recoil it generates would probably… be difficult for even a Terminator to control stably."
"Oh! You guys don't understand! The balancing system and buffer device inside are my own invention! As long as the right method is used, the recoil can be controlled!" Eilaas argued defiantly.
Just then, Gaius Hohn and Kolesa entered the common room.
Eilaas was standing with her hands on her hips, her small face flushed with excitement, about to continue explaining her great invention to these "unappreciative" stoic men. She looked up and happened to see Gaius Hohn entering.
"Lord Gaius! You've come at a perfect time! Come see my new inven—" Her words were cut short as her gaze naturally swept past Gaius Hohn and landed on the figure behind him.
The next second, Eilaas's large, Aeldari-specific eyes instantly widened, her mouth slightly agape, her face filled with incredulous surprise.
She saw… pointed ears? Long silver hair? Purple eyes? A tall, slender figure, with a delicate and beautiful face like a goddess stepped out of Aeldari myths… a… living, adult Aeldari… with similar features to her own?!
Eilaas froze completely, still clutching her precious "quad-assault cannon." She stared intently at Kolesa, her brain seemingly crashing at that moment, completely unable to comprehend why she would see… one of her own kind… in the Ultramarines' common room?
Eilaas's large, Eldar-typical eyes widened, clutching her quad-barreled assault cannon, a paragon of "brutal aesthetics," tightly to her chest. Her small mouth was slightly agape, and she seemed to be paused, staring intently at the figure behind Gaius.
Silver hair, like a waterfall woven from moonlight, cascaded down her back, almost reaching her waist. Pointed ears peeked out from her tresses, outlining the elegant contours unique to the Eldar. Her purple eyes, like the purest amethyst, now held a trace of initial bewilderment and an almost imperceptible weariness. Her skin, so fair it was almost transparent, her delicate features like a work of art, and the white recuperation suit, overly large yet still unable to conceal her slender figure... A living, adult member of her own race, with similar features!
Eilaas's brain almost shut down. She had lived on the Macragge's Honour for decades, long accustomed to being surrounded by Astartes in blue power armor, their presence like steel mountains. She herself was the only anomaly on this massive battleship, the only "pointy-ear." Although the Astartes had long accepted her, and the Company Commanders, even the Chapter Master, were quite indulgent towards her, a subtle, inexpressible loneliness always lurked deep within her—a loneliness of being completely severed from her own racial culture.
Now, suddenly seeing another member of her kind, the impact left her completely at a loss. She just stood there, stunned, completely forgetting the excitement she had felt earlier about showing Gaius her new invention.
The other Astartes in the lounge were also drawn by the sudden silence, their gazes turning towards the doorway.
Dorian was grimacing as he adjusted the auxiliary brace on his abdomen. Seeing Gaius and Kolesa behind him, a flicker of surprise crossed his rugged face, followed by a wide, somewhat mischievous grin. He was always outspoken, and now he couldn't help but tease in his loud voice:
"Hey! Gaius! Not bad! How did you bring her back? Did the Chapter Master see she was pretty and specially awarded her to you as a wife? Hahahahaha!"
As soon as he said that, a burst of suppressed laughter erupted in the lounge. Even the usually steady Draculas, the corner of his mouth hidden beneath his white helmet seemed to twitch slightly. The Astartes Monks were not without a sense of humor, but their humor often carried the bluntness and roughness characteristic of the barracks.
Gaius sighed, raising a hand to his forehead, feeling a deep sense of powerlessness. Brother Dorian was good in every way, except that sometimes, his mouth was really... He subconsciously turned his head slightly, glancing at Kolesa behind him out of the corner of his eye.
The Eldar Warlock had her head slightly bowed, a faint blush uncontrollably rising on her pale cheeks. A flicker of embarrassment and awkwardness passed through her purple eyes, and her slender fingers unconsciously tightened on the oversized fabric of her clothes. She had clearly understood Dorian's joke and was extremely uncomfortable.
Gaius averted his gaze, looking at Dorian, who was still grinning. His tone was calm but carried an undeniable warning: "Dorian, it seems your injuries are recovering well, and you have plenty of energy. If you currently have nothing to do, I wouldn't mind recommending you to Company Commander Orpha to try the new batch of 'special' nutrient paste developed by the Logistics Department. I hear the taste is quite... good."
Dorian's laughter abruptly stopped, his expression instantly freezing as if someone had choked him. He had heard terrifying rumors about that stuff. It was said that the Tech-Priests from the Adeptus Mechanicus in the Logistics Department had somehow acquired a formula and concocted a new type of nutrient paste that not only tasted like poison but was also difficult for even the robust digestive systems of the Astartes to handle. Two Brothers from the Eighth Company, who were said to be able to digest steel, had tried a mouthful and were still recovering in the medical bay. He didn't want to be the next joke lying in a medical pod.
"No! Gaius! I was wrong! I'll shut up!" Dorian quickly waved his hands, his face showing an expression of "I surrender," and he obediently shrank his neck, not daring to joke around anymore.
At this moment, Draculas's steady voice rang out, bringing the conversation back on track: "Brother Gaius, her presence here... is it the Chapter Master's arrangement?"
Gaius nodded, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the lounge, formally announcing the situation: "Yes. Due to Ms. Kolesa's special status, involving previous transactions and potential subsequent matters, the Chapter Master has ordered that she be temporarily placed under the jurisdiction of our First Company for... 'care.'" He slightly emphasized the word "care," and everyone understood its meaning—protection and surveillance coexisting. "Her temporary quarters have been arranged next to my personal cabin."
His gaze once again turned to Dorian, his tone returning to the serious, business-like manner: "Brother Dorian, given your current good recovery and excess energy, the Company Commander has just issued new patrol orders. You are assigned to night patrol. In three standard hours, proceed to the armory to equip Ironclad Pattern Terminator armor and be responsible for patrolling Corridor K-14 and the lower hangar area. Repeat the order."
Dorian's face immediately fell, and he wailed, "Me again? Why does the Company Commander always assign me to patrol? I'm so injured!" He patted the brace on his abdomen, trying to elicit sympathy.
"That's an order," Gaius said calmly, yet with an undeniable tone. "Or would you prefer to try the new flavored nutrient paste?"
Dorian immediately deflated, responding weakly: "...Understood. In three standard hours, equip Terminator armor, patrol K-14 and the lower hangar."
As they spoke, Kolesa finally recovered somewhat from her initial embarrassment. Her gaze passed over Gaius's broad shoulders and landed on the Eldar girl with the peculiar weapon, light pink short hair, and large green eyes. The girl's pale, somewhat dark-toned skin, and the lively expression in her eyes—a mix of curiosity, rebelliousness, and a touch of wildness—immediately confirmed her identity. This must be Eilaas, the Dark Eldar girl Luna had mentioned to her on the Pride of Ultramar, who had lived on a human battleship for a long time.
And Eilaas, after the initial shock and stupor, finally came back to her senses. She saw Kolesa's gaze fall upon her, and a complex, hard-to-read emotion flashed in her green eyes—curiosity, surprise, perhaps even a subtle resonance of being an Eldar in a foreign land, but more than that, a small sense of annoyance and challenge, as if her "territory" had been invaded.
She suddenly made an extremely exaggerated funny face at Kolesa, sticking out her tongue. Then, without waiting for any reaction from Kolesa, she grabbed Brother Draculus's thick, brace-covered arm and yelled, "Come on, come on, Brother Draculus! Don't just stand here watching the show, come with me to test my 'Eilaas Storm'! I'll show you what real firepower looks like!"
With that, regardless of whether Draculas agreed, she pulled him forcefully, like a nimble little rabbit, skipping and jumping through the crowd, quickly running out of the lounge, leaving behind only a receding series of clanging metal parts and her clear, slightly smug humming.
This little interlude eased the atmosphere in the lounge somewhat. Gaius said no more, gesturing for Kolesa to "please follow," and led her away from the public area, towards the quieter cabin corridor where the First Company Astartes resided.
Walking down the relatively secluded corridor, only their regular footsteps echoed. Gaius seemed to think of something and spoke first, his voice still calm, but with a hint more explanation than before:
"Her name is Eilaas. As you can see, she is a Dark Eldar. She has served as a Tech-Sergeant on the Macragge's Honour for decades." He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, "By your Eldar lifespan, she may still be very... young. And her personality is a bit... mischievous. I hope you don't mind."
He glanced at Kolesa and added, "However, though this little one is troublesome, her technical talent is indeed outstanding, and she knows her limits. The Company Commanders, and even the Chapter Master, are quite fond and indulgent of her."
Kolesa listened quietly, nodding slightly in understanding. She could sense this from Eilaas's energetic demeanor and the seemingly helpless yet indulgent attitude of the Astartes around her. For a Dark Eldar to achieve such a position on the flagship of a human Astartes Chapter was a miracle in itself.
The two stopped talking, walking in silence down the brightly lit metal corridor. Soon, Gaius stopped in front of a cabin door marked with a personal identification code. He swiped his authorization wristband across the scanner, and the door slid open silently.
"This is my cabin," Gaius indicated, then pointed to the adjacent door, "This one is your temporary quarters. The internal facilities are basically complete and should meet your daily needs. If you need anything, or encounter any problems, you can contact me through the internal communication system in the room, or simply press the call button by the door, and an Astartes on duty will come."
His instructions were concise and clear, as if he were outlining a tactical mission.
Kolesa looked at the cabin door that was hers, a temporary refuge, and felt a rush of emotions. From the destruction of her home and the displacement of her people, to now being a guest on a human battleship, the future was full of unknowns. She took a deep breath and bowed slightly to Gaius:
"Thank you for your guidance, Sergeant Karl."
Gaius nodded, said nothing more, and turned to walk into his own cabin. Before the door closed, he said one last thing: "Familiarize yourself with the environment and rest well. On a battleship, following the rules is the most important thing."
As Gaius's cabin door closed, Kolesa stood alone in the corridor, facing the door that symbolized temporary settlement, but also surveillance and uncertainty. She reached out and gently pressed her hand against the cold metal door panel, feeling the faint, constant vibration of the battleship's engines beneath it.
This human steel behemoth, this blue world of discipline and power, was the only reliance for her and her people for the foreseeable future.
She took another deep breath and, using the temporary access she had just received, opened her own door.
The cabin door silently closed behind her, cutting off external sounds and gazes. Kolesa stood alone in this small space that was temporarily hers, slowly looking around.
Everything here exuded the typical style of an Astartes Monk—simple, practical, with no superfluous decoration. The cabin was not spacious, but for her alone, it certainly didn't feel cramped. The walls were smooth, unpainted metal, embedded with a few lighting panels that emitted a steady white glow. On one side, a metal table and a chair of the same material were fixed, the tabletop empty. On the other side was a built-in storage cabinet.
Most striking was the bed in the center of the room. It was clearly built to the size standards of an Astartes Monk, appearing overly large for her, like a giant metal platform, covered with neat, gray standard issue bedding.
However, what caught her eye were the items placed on the bed.
Her Warlock's robe, once stained with blood and dust, was now clean, neatly folded, and placed at the foot of the bed. The deep purple fabric seemed to have regained its former luster, with the embroidered Eldar runes faintly visible in the light. Beside it, a set of white clothes was also folded, similar in style to the oversized recuperation suit she had worn before, but clearly modified, the size appearing much more fitted.
Her gaze moved downwards, landing on the floor beside the bed. Two pairs of brand-new black boots, made of tough, sturdy material, were placed side-by-side there, clearly prepared specifically for her.
An indescribable emotion welled up in Kolesa's heart. Was it gratitude? Or was it confusion at receiving such meticulous care while being in an enemy camp? She couldn't say. She walked to the bedside, reached out a hand, and her fingertips gently brushed the clean robe, feeling the familiar touch of the fabric, as if touching a shred of a long-shattered past. Then, she picked up the altered white casual wear.
The clothing's material was soft yet sturdy, carrying a faint, clean scent of human detergent, distinctly different from the natural fragrance emanating from the psychic-infused fabrics of the Aisha's Tears Craftworld she remembered. She shed the overly large "robe" she was wearing and put on the fitted garments. The soft fabric conformed to her skin, and her movements were no longer as cumbersome as before, giving her a long-lost sense of neatness and... dignity.
She tried on a pair of the long boots; they were the perfect size, encasing her slender ankles. Stepping onto the cold metal floor, she finally no longer felt that chill that pierced to her core.
Shortly after she had changed, a rhythmic knock came from outside the cabin door. She opened the door and saw a Chapter servant, dressed in a simple dark blue uniform and with a respectful expression, standing outside. The servant held a metal tray, on which rested a sizable, grayish-brown synthetic bread, a fresh-looking red apple that even carried a faint fruity scent, and a bottle of clear drinking water.
"Madam, this is your meal," the servant said, handing her the tray with a humble tone.
"Thank you," Kolesa said softly, taking the heavy tray.
The servant bowed respectfully and then quietly departed.
Kolesa placed the tray on the cold metal table. She picked up the synthetic bread; its texture was hard and dense. She tentatively took a small bite, and a rough, bland taste with a distinct artificial additive flavor instantly filled her mouth. For her, accustomed to the Eldar's delicate, natural diet, it was hardly a pleasant experience. She forced herself to swallow it, then placed the bread back on the tray.
Her gaze fell upon the apple. It was rosy and plump, a stark contrast to the dull gray bread. She picked up the apple, her fingertips feeling the smooth, cool skin. She took a gentle bite; it was crisp and juicy, with a sweet and sour flavor spreading in her mouth. This was the first taste of "nature" she had experienced since arriving on this human warship. This made her even more certain that the apple was by no means a regular stock item on the warship, and was very likely specially procured from an agri-world, as Chapter Master Calgar had ordered.
She slowly finished the apple, drank a few sips of water, and then left the remaining bread on the table. Just as she was about to get up, her gaze inadvertently swept across the clean metal tabletop. In an inconspicuous corner, she discovered an extremely subtle mark, as if left by a laser etching. It was an electronic signature of a name—Heraclius.
The handwriting was strong and vigorous, with a simplicity and power characteristic of Astartes Monks.
Heraclius... Kolesa silently repeated the name in her mind. Who was this? Was he the previous occupant of this cabin? Where was he now? She knew nothing of it; the name was merely an unfamiliar symbol to her, representing an Astartes Monk on this warship whom she had never met.
She no longer dwelled on it, turning instead to the bed and sitting down. The mattress felt somewhat too firm for her weight. She shifted her body, leaning against the headboard, and looked towards the only small porthole in the cabin.
Through the thick transparent steel, outside was the eternally profound starry sky. And at this moment, this starry sky was not empty. Countless navigation lights and engine exhausts of ships dotted the void like stars, forming a magnificent and grand tableau. Sleek, heavily armed strike cruisers and even larger battle barges patrolled majestically like moving fortresses; numerous transport ships and supply ships shuttled between them like worker bees; and there were many small and agile frigates, like loyal hounds, circling around the core vessels.
And the "Macragge's Honour," where she was, as the flagship and core of the fleet, was surrounded by layers of escort ships in the center, like stars orbiting the moon. Its magnificent hull, illuminated by starlight, exuded unparalleled majesty and a sense of power, as if it were a colossal steel beast lurking in the star sea. Witnessing this scene, Kolesa more deeply realized what a vast and powerful military force she and her people were depending on.
Time quietly passed in the silence; the starlight outside the porthole also seemed to dim somewhat, indicating that the simulated day-night cycle within the warship had entered deep night. Kolesa lay on the bed, which was too wide for her, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The hard mattress beneath her, the smell of oil and metal pervading the air, and the constantly recurring anxious faces of her people and the sight of Aisha's Tears reduced to scorched earth in her mind, all made her restless.
Finally, she sighed softly, got up again, and decided to go to the corridor for some fresh air.
The cabin door slid open; the lights in the corridor outside had already dimmed, making it quiet and deserted. She walked to the edge of the corridor, her hands resting on the metal railing that was almost level with her height, and leaned over to look down.
Below was a deeper deck, with an open view. Every now and then, one could see patrol squads of five warriors marching in synchronized steps. They wore imposing eagle-faced helmets and red cloaks, their ornate power armor gleaming with a cold luster in the dim light, the typical attire of the Ultramarines Honour Guard. Their movements were silent, like ghosts moving through the steel framework of the warship.
And further away, faintly came the familiar "clanging" sound, like muffled thunder hitting the ground. That was the heavy footsteps of patrolling Terminator squads; even through layers of decks, one could still feel the heart-stopping vibration and oppressive force. This sound contrasted sharply with the silent movement of the eagle-faced helmet warriors, together forming the warship's security system in the dead of night.
She just leaned quietly against the railing, looking at the regularly operating steel torrent below, her purple eyes filled with worry and confusion about the future.
"Not resting yet?"
A calm and familiar voice sounded behind her.
Kolesa paused slightly, turned around, and saw Gaius standing behind her at some point. He had changed out of his usual uniform and was once again wearing his dark blue artificer power armor, but without his helmet, revealing his handsome and resolute face. His golden hair was neatly combed, and the laurel wreath and service studs on his forehead were still clear in the dim light of the corridor. The power armor still carried a faint coolness, as if he had just come from a training ground or a maintenance bay.
"Sergeant Karl," Kolesa nodded politely, forcing a somewhat strained smile.
Gaius walked to her side, also casting his gaze down at the patrolling teams, and after a moment of silence, still asked, "Is your injury still bothering you? Or... is the environment here preventing you from sleeping?" His observation was keen, noticing the hidden melancholy in her brows.
Kolesa gently shook her head, her gaze once again directed towards the deep void, her voice carrying a hint of etherealness: "No, the injury is much better. Everything here... is very good. I just..." She paused, her voice a little lower, "I'm just worried about my people, wondering if they are safe now, and I don't know what... our future fate will be."
This was the first time she had expressed such direct worry in front of Gaius.
Upon hearing this, Gaius was silent for a few seconds. He was not a man of comforting words, but looking at this alien woman who had lost her home and whose people's fate was uncertain, he still spoke in his characteristic, steady and reliable tone: "There is no need to worry too much. Since the Chapter Master has made a promise, the Ultramarines will certainly see it through, ensuring the safety and eventual resettlement of your people. In our Ultramar, promises are heavier than mountains."
His words were simple and direct, yet carried a convincing power. Kolesa turned her head to look into his serene, lake-like blue eyes, and could see an unquestionable resolve within them.
"Thank you for your comfort, Sergeant Karl," she said softly, the heaviness in her heart seeming to truly lighten a little.
To change the subject, and out of a hint of curiosity, Kolesa remembered the name in the cabin. She asked, "Sergeant Karl, in the cabin I'm in, there's a name on the tabletop... Heraclius. May I ask, was he the previous occupant of this cabin?"
Gaius nodded, a barely perceptible look of respect on his face: "Yes. Brother Heraclius, he was once our First Company's Company Champion."
"Company Champion?" Kolesa found the term unfamiliar.
"That is an honorary title that only the most valiant and skilled warriors in the Company can earn," Gaius explained, his tone conveying respect for the strong, "Brother Heraclius possessed an extremely high talent in close combat skills; he was the pride of the Company." He paused, then continued, "Not long ago, he was ordered to Holy Terra to meet our Primarch, Lord Roboute Guilliman."
"Roboute Guilliman..." Kolesa knew that name, the demigod who had awakened and returned to reclaim authority over the Imperium of Man.
"Yes." Gaius's eyes showed deep reverence, "According to the Primarch's command, after his audience, Brother Heraclius will remain on Terra to join the Victrix Guard."
"Victrix Guard?" Another term Kolesa didn't understand.
"That is a guard and rapid response force personally assembled by the Primarch, composed of elite Astartes Monks from the Ultramarines Chapter and various successor Chapters," Gaius's tone carried a hint of longing, "To be selected for the Victrix Guard is the highest honor, and it also means he will shoulder even more important responsibilities."
Kolesa listened quietly; although she still didn't fully understand the specific meanings of "Company Champion" and "Victrix Guard," she could sense the power and distinction of the warrior named Heraclius from Gaius's tone and demeanor. She also vaguely understood what an outstanding warrior had once occupied the cabin where she was temporarily residing.
"I see... Thank you for telling me this," Kolesa said softly. Knowing the previous occupant's whereabouts gave her a peculiar sense of connection to the warship's history in this temporary dwelling.
The two fell silent again, standing side by side at the railing, gazing at the patrolling teams operating like precise instruments below, and the vast, boundless star-filled sky outside the porthole, dotted with steel warships.
One was an Eldar psyker, forced to leave her home, her future uncertain.
The other was an Astartes Sergeant, bearing the Chapter's mission and guarding the human territories.
On this colossal steel vessel sailing through the cold void, their destinies briefly intersected, and in this quiet deep night, they had a simple exchange that bridged the gap between their races. The future remained shrouded in mist, but at least at this moment, a faint bridge of "communication" had quietly been built.