Chapter 25: Carcharodons: Heh heh, here comes the rich boy!
"Lord Karna!"
After wandering for a day, Karna returned to the central transit hub area. As his iron-shod boots stepped into the domain, he was greeted by a harmonious scene.
Space Marines in Tartaros Terminator armor patrolled the perimeter, accompanied by a squad of Cadian soldiers in Void Armour. At the other end of the plaza, an orderly queue had formed in front of the mess hall. At tables of various sizes, Astartes and mortals were enjoying a meal together.
Unlike two weeks ago, the area that had once been a defensive bastion had now been transformed into a mess and recuperation area for the Astra Militarum and the Astartes.
"The usual," Karna said, handing his meal tray to the galley-serf. He began to look around.
Sisters saying grace before their meal. Check.
His friends already chowing down. Check.
Colonel Kovek on mess duty today. Check.
The Tech-Priest... huh? Where'd he go?
Narrowing his eyes, Karna scanned the area and finally found the orange-robed cog-boy on the lower deck, bowing and swinging a censer before a massive Stormbird gunship.
Oh, he's worshipping the Stormbird today?
When this Tech-Priest had learned that they were just giving all this advanced equipment to the Imperial Guard, he had looked like he was about to start spewing sacred unguents. He'd gone on and on about how these things belonged in a stasis-vault, and that it was a waste to give them to these simpletons.
That's just how the Mechanicus was.
Damn it, Karna thought, if we don't spend these points now, are we supposed to just let them rot in our hands after we all get wiped out in the next battle?
After Romulus had firmly rejected his protests, the Tech-Priest had taken to kowtowing before the vehicles every day, praying that their Machine Spirits would change their minds.
Yep, still kowtowing. All seems correct.
"Thank you."
Taking the tray piled high with food, Karna made his way to the Astartes' table. There, his three companions, their armor now painted in the black-and-silver of the Deathwatch, had long since finished their meal.
"Find any good loot today?" Romulus asked as soon as he sat down.
"Nope. Pretty much searched every nook and cranny of this ship. Checked the Ork side too, but their tech isn't advanced enough to unlock anything. The smaller components still require a WAAAGH! field to work, so they're useless to us."
"Well then, we've completed the blueprint collection before the rescue arrives. That's worth celebrating."
"It is worth celebrating," Karna said, grabbing a handful of ceramite powder and sprinkling it on his food. He speared a thick slab of meat with his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. "The fact that we've managed to make corpse starch taste this good is a miracle in itself."
"Thank the Emperor for advanced Imperial technology," Ramesses said, wiping his mouth after finishing his own meal. "Otherwise, I'd rather burn a few more daemons to get some cola and fried chicken."
At that moment, what they were all eating was a famous dish renowned throughout the multiverse of Imperial humanity—
Soylens Viridians!
Also known as corpse starch.
Essentially, it was a highly nutritious substance produced during the processing of promethium, and it was the sole source of food for the vast majority of Imperial citizens. It was almost flavorless on its own and usually took the form of a viscous paste, its appearance varying depending on the additives.
As for how it had been transformed into its current state... let's just say that the humanity capable of sustaining the glorious Imperium also possessed some equally glorious technology.
Nutrient synthesis technology from the grease-monkeys, food texture customization technology found in a fleet admiral's quarters, and an endless supply of corpse starch that could be produced just by processing promethium.
All of this combined to create a nutritionally balanced, aromatic, and delicious meal.
And most importantly, like regular corpse starch, it was cheap and plentiful, enough to sustain the living crew of this ship for a year.
One had to admit, the Imperium's domestic technology was quite impressive. It just wasn't usually applied to the Imperial populace.
"Speaking of which, why are you two always staring at that toilet paper?" Ramesses asked, noticing the other two had started studying the Codex Astartes again after their meal.
"Aside from its restrictions on the Astartes, the Regent's advice is extremely valuable," Arthur replied without looking up. "And we don't know the fine details of this universe. The Codex itself can fill in the gaps in our knowledge. It's necessary to study it."
"It's a step-by-step guide on how to fight a war, how to run a Chapter, even down to which warrior should do what during a battle, with different solutions for different environments. It's very helpful for me in commanding the troops," Romulus added, engrossed in the text.
Say what you will, the Codex Astartes was a top-tier reference book. It covered almost every situation an Astartes might encounter. It was basically a manual for becoming a competent Space Marine. Putting aside the "toilet paper" prejudice and some of its outdated doctrines, the Codex Astartes was a good book. The Regent must have put a lot of effort into writing it.
"The two nerds are out-studying us again," Ramesses complained, seeing how serious they were.
"If they don't study it, you'll have to," Karna said, putting down the ceramite chopsticks he'd bitten a chunk out of. Since arriving here, his brain hadn't grown much, but his teeth had certainly gotten stronger.
"Then I'd rather let the nerds do it," Ramesses immediately conceded.
"Speaking of which," Karna said, deftly changing the subject as he glanced at the table of Sisters who had finished their meal and were now awaiting orders. "Are we just going to let this misunderstanding continue? I feel like the four of us are being treated like living relics."
Ever since they had given out that pile of equipment, the twenty-six Sisters had been shadowing them almost constantly. Except for Karna, whose movements were more independent, the other three would immediately be met with the Sisters' watchful gazes the moment they left a room.
"It's a good thing. Better than them suspecting we're a renegade Chapter," Romulus said. "Since it's an advantage, there's no need to correct it. Arthur and Ramesses, you two just say you're Ultramarines. The rest, you can just improvise. Let them fill in the blanks themselves."
"But if we're just pretending, won't there be slip-ups?" Karna wasn't very confident in his acting skills.
"Why pretend? The gear isn't fake, and the fact that we don't fit in is also real. And how does that saying go? 'All our painstaking imitation...'" Ramesses trailed off, trying to remember.
"'...is not as good as a single moment of a true believer's heartfelt emotion,'" Karna finished for him.
"...'I feel, M3 Earth was better,'" Romulus, still reading his book, added to the meme chain.
"See? I told you there was no need to pretend."
"..." Arthur's expression was hard to read. But it was true. To them, from the M3 millennium, the current Imperium was a pile of crap. And to someone from the M31 millennium, the current Imperium was also a pile of crap. Just look at how melancholy the Regent was when he woke up. It was all the same. No difference.
"My Lord, we have received a communication from an Imperial warship."
Their brief post-meal study session didn't last long. A report from a runner was delivered.
"Code?"
"Verified and authenticated."
"Allegiance?"
"They identify themselves as the Carcharodons."
(End of Chapter)