A month has passed since the events on Nuceria. The Ultramarines' fleets, reinforced with thousands of new soldiers, set out in every possible direction to repel the traitors. Harlock and his pirates, meanwhile, patrolled nearby systems and destroyed all enemy forces that appeared within their targeting range. These were usually small forces consisting of a few ships whose task was to destroy a couple of planets or to corrupt and recruit the local population.
The planet IAX, a so-called "garden world," serves as an example of such a planet. These planets are playgrounds for the Imperial nobility. Imperial bureaucrats, members of the Ecclesiarchy, governors, and merchants live on such worlds.
The traitors, upon reaching this planet, did not expect any defense, counting on an easy victory. Instead, they encountered one ship. One ship that, after a short but intense battle, completely destroyed them. Now the wreckage of their vessels orbited lifelessly above the planet. They were unable to withstand the crushing power of the Arcadia's cannons. What's more, the life pods they managed to launch toward the planet were quickly tracked down and destroyed by loyalist soldiers stationed on the surface. No one from this traitor mission survived.
"I hear the XIII is planning something," Trek said, sitting in the canteen with his men.
"What could he be planning? He's in deep trouble; he and his worlds are cut off from the Imperium. His forces have been defeated and his fleet destroyed," a pirate interjected, eating his ration.
"I overheard some Ultramarines soldiers saying he has some great plan, but they didn't know the details. I wonder what he'll come up with."
"Trek, he's not coming up with anything. He's just creating propaganda that he has a plan to motivate his people. We all know that."
"You forgot we're talking about Primarchs. I doubt he'd spread false propaganda. If he did and it turned out to be a lie, Ultramar would fall apart," he said, putting his bread down and clasping his hands. "I think there's something to it."
"You'd better focus on learning how to lead people. I heard you were called to the Captain's office, right?"
"How do you know that?" he asked, frowning suspiciously.
"You probably know 'Wet Hand.' He saw you walking into the Captain's cabin looking upset."
"Now I know who's getting extra training tonight."
They laughed when they heard that Wet Hand would suffer tonight. On the bridge, meanwhile, Grumpy, Silent, and Madam Alexandra were busy with their duties. As the three most important officers on the ship, they had no time for rest. But they did have their private rooms, better food, and generally a better quality of life than the rest of the crew.
"Lord Cornelius, can you tell your men to be more careful with the equipment? The technicians are constantly complaining to me that they have to repair the armor and weapons," Madam Alexandra complained to Silent, like a mother who had just caught her son.
"I'll talk to them, but I don't promise anything," he replied quickly to brush her off. He and Grumpy had learned the hard way that you don't argue with her.
"Thank you, Lord Augustus, can we talk?"
The moment Grumpy heard his name from the other side of the bridge, he felt a shiver down his spine. He quickly buried his head in various reports to pretend he was working hard. Hearing the footsteps getting louder, he closed his eyes, hoping she would just go away.
"Lord Augustus, may I have a moment of your time?" she asked, holding a report in her hands.
He sighed heavily. "Yes?"
In the training rooms, the sound of metal hitting metal could be heard. It was the pirates training. Those who had nothing to do often trained. The training rooms were often places where you could hear rumors or other news. The second such place was the canteen.
"I heard there will be some changes!" a pirate yelled, blocking his partner's axe.
"Changes?!" he asked, pressing his axe against his opponent.
"Silent isn't in charge of the combat inventory anymore! Alexandra is handling that now!" he growled, pushing his opponent away and retreating.
"Oh, I heard about that," he said, lowering his axe and walking over. "They're putting everything on Madam Alexandra's head."
"Apparently, Silent did a bad job with the inventory, but Grumpy also got chewed out by the Captain."
"What? Tell me!" he said quickly, getting out of the ring and sitting on the benches.
Meanwhile, in the captain's cabin, Harlock stood before a huge window, staring calmly into the void. On his desk, the last candles were ending their lives. In a few minutes, they would shed their last tear, ending their lives.
"The war is just beginning," Nibe said, walking around the room and looking at the paintings of Harlock.
"So what?" I asked, turning my gaze to the planet below.
"You should know that you won't always be able to save people."
"And you know that people I don't know don't interest me," I replied coldly. "I have nothing against their deaths. If that planet below us were to crack and kill the 200 billion people on it, I would forget about them the moment I turned around."
"That Eldar, what do you want from him?" she asked after a moment.
"He might have information about the Necrons," I replied, walking away from the window. "The Necrons are an old race, as old as the Eldar. I'm interested in the black obelisks."
"You want to close the 'eye'?"
"No, I couldn't even manage it. That 'four' wouldn't allow me," I said, resting my hand on the desk and looking at Nibe. "That's the first thing. I want to get information on how they travel. They don't travel through the Immaterium, so their engines must be capable of faster-than-light travel."
"Just like the Arcadia," Nibe interjected, admiring a painting of Harlock posing.
"Just like the Arcadia, but worse," I added. "The Arcadia doesn't need to charge or use gates, as you well know."
Nibe smiled and vanished. I sat on my throne and stared at the fire that was about to take its last breath of life: one tear, a second tear, and then darkness.
The Arcadia traveled continuously through one system after another, destroying any enemies it encountered. Its legend had begun to sprout long ago, since the Battle of Calth. News of a lone pirate ship under the command of a Captain who not only fought a daemonic Primarch but survived the encounter, spread like wildfire.
The Word Bearers, in particular, were fascinated by him in the worst sense of the word. For them, Harlock and the Arcadia became more than just an obstacle—they were a personal insult. Over Calth, where they had waged their initial, treacherous crusade, the Arcadia destroyed countless of their ships, thwarting their plans. Later, at Armatura, Harlock again interfered with their key operations, foiling their blasphemous rituals. And finally, the cherry on top: Nuceria. It was there, where they were supposed to slay Guilliman himself and complete the ritual of Angron's transformation into a Daemon Primarch, that the entire operation failed because of this damned pirate. Harlock became their nemesis, a walking, cosmic affront that had to be erased from existence.
For this reason, every ship of Lorgar's children they encountered tried to destroy the Arcadia. It ended very badly for them. When they began the fight, they didn't expect that after a few exchanges, their ship would be good for nothing but scrap. But that wasn't what truly stung them. What stung them was that the pirates were genuinely toying with them. Many times, they had witnessed the Arcadia instantly destroy its enemies. But now, they were playing with them like a cat that catches a mouse and plays with it before eating it.
Such an affront was too great. They tried to ram the ship—or rather, they tried to, just to launch a boarding action. This was another failed idea. The Arcadia is a single ship and has 100% of its power. The enemy ships, alone or in small fleets, did not have all their power. They were only a fraction of the power of the entire legion. The math was and is merciless. When attempting a boarding action, in the best-case scenario, a few hundred traitor marines had to fight a few thousand pirates. The fights were short. Trek, leading his men, mercilessly massacred the enemies. Human soldiers, warped by Chaos, deformed, stripped of their honor and freedom, died under the pirates' axes. Entire ships were cleansed of the power of the Immaterium, of the power of the four beings.
Behind the Arcadia, with the help of towing lines, 13 other cleansed ships were being dragged. When they returned to Macragge, they intended to hand them over to the Ultramarines. Each of these ships had been thoroughly searched so that not even a single mouse was left alive. The XIII Legion had lost many ships, so every one would be useful.
Traveling for the next few months, the crew members adapted to life as pirates. They visited new planets, and many of them invited Harlock to parties to meet their daughters. But Captain Harlock was elusive, even to his own crew members. Very rarely did anyone other than the officers and the bridge crew see the Captain. Rumors began to circulate that he was a ghost of the ship.
But Cornelius quickly debunked them and punished the people who spread them. It was one of the rules: you don't slander Harlock. Yet, the fact that even the people on the bridge saw him only once every few days, or when they had a report for him, created a lot of mystery around him.
"Captain?" Grumpy knocked on the door and then entered to see Harlock in the same position in his chair as he was a few days ago. "In a few minutes, we'll reach Macragge. The Arcadia is fully operational, but our supplies have dwindled, mainly food. Alexandra suggested we create a list of how much each person can eat."
"We're pirates, Augustus," I said, looking at his red prosthetic eye. "We sleep when we want, and we eat as much as we want. If we implemented something like that, the Arcadia would lose its purpose."
"So we can leave whenever we want?" he asked, the thought just occurring to him.
"Yes. In every second, minute, or hour, you can come to me and say you're leaving. That's what freedom is all about."
The conversation with Augustus lasted a few more minutes before Grumpy, now with a better understanding of the circumstances, returned to his command duties.
Upon reaching the system, the Arcadia was greeted by dozens of Ultramarines ships. The entire fleet was preparing for a great counterattack crusade on a scale Harlock had never seen before. After the Battle of Calth, they had been trapped for a long time and couldn't respond to the numerous calls for help that came from all over their domain. But now that they had regained some agency and organized their forces, they were heading everywhere they could to support the loyalists or to take revenge on the traitors.
The Ultramarines forces instantly saw the Arcadia and the ships it was towing. Flying toward the shipyard, they passed the Marines' forces. The loyalists watched in awe as a single ship towed so many others.
I entered the bridge for the first time in a while, which surprised my crew. I'm not surprised. I rarely stay on the bridge unless there's a need. I sat on my throne and connected to the shipyard.
"Lord Avenius, I see you're still alive," I said, seeing a familiar figure.
"Captain Harlock, I can say the same. I see you have a lot of things with you," he said, seeing the towed ships on the monitor.
"It would be a waste to leave them to the mercy of the void. They're empty and cleansed. But check them yourself in your own way," I replied, rubbing my face with my hand.
"Tired?" he asked, surprised by Harlock's reaction.
"No, just a reflex," I said, turning off the hololith and ending the conversation.
"You didn't even say goodbye, Captain," Madam Alexandra said, who was on the bridge at the time.
"There was no need."
Leaving the captured ships in the hands of the shipyard workers, the Arcadia docked in its usual spot. Every time it appeared in port, crowds gathered around it, admiring the unique ship that seemed to mock all the rules of space construction.
As soon as the main ramp hissed down, the pirates slowly began to exit. They carried empty crates that had recently held valuable materials: food, spare parts or specialized repair materials. Among them, with a confident stride, also came out Madam Alexandra, looking for the shipyard quartermaster. Ever since the Arcadia made its agreement with Ultramar, this was her first and most important mission after every docking: to get to the quartermaster as quickly as possible and restock the ship's magazines so they would be ready for the next challenges.
"That woman terrifies me," Grumpy said, watching Alexandra from the bridge.
"I feel bad for that quartermaster," Silent added. "She's going to tear him apart."
"As long as she does it quickly."
"And you two have nothing to do?" I asked, looking at them, still sitting on the throne.
"We've already done our jobs," Grumpy said for both of them.
"So you've already met with the Ultramarines navigator who gave you the new routes we need to check?" I asked, knowing he hadn't fulfilled his duties.
Augustus was stunned. He hadn't forgotten the meeting, but he didn't expect the captain to bring it up now, at this moment.
"I'm on my way to him right now," he said, leaving the bridge.
My gaze fell on Silent. "I'm going to check the cannons from the outside," he said quickly, seeing my look and heading out.
"You're fit to be a captain," Nibe said, appearing beside me.