Arthur and Rameses exchanged a look.
"No idea."
Rameses turned to Karna.
Karna looked completely lost.
"I only know the Ordo Malleus, Ordo Hereticus, and Ordo Xenos."
Those three dealt with daemons, heretics, and aliens.
"Actually, this Ordo is quite capable. Not on the same level as the big three, but definitely not useless."
Romulus, who was chatting with Aglaea, spoke quietly through their private link.
"Oh? Be specific."
The others grew curious.
"Put simply, their task is to investigate and recover the Imperium's lost history—things long since mythologized—by studying records, conducting field surveys, even bargaining with Warp entities if necessary."
"And then?"
"And then naturally those myths tie back to the Primarchs, including the histories of their homeworlds."
Romulus added emphasis.
"That includes the homeworld of Lion El'Jonson, Caliban."
"Oh."
The three of them immediately understood, and turned wide-eyed stares on Aglaea, as if to say: How are you still alive?
A living member of such an Ordo? Rare indeed.
The very fact the Ordo Originis still existed was miracle enough for the transmigrators.
"?"
Aglaea frowned. She had been trying to read the kill-team captain's character, but now these towering warriors were looking at her strangely.
That look—like seeing a terminal patient walking around cheerfully.
She thought herself healthy enough. Stable biomancy had granted her a long life. Even with her innate precognition, she never touched forbidden lore, never dabbled in daemons. She had simply, dutifully, gathered planetary histories with fleets and macro-cannon fire.
Aglaea believed, sincerely, that she would outlive her increasingly unhinged mentor.
Unless… had these Deathwatch warriors sensed something wrong?
Had her old master cursed her after all?
The young Inquisitor slipped into self-doubt, searching herself for signs. She found nothing. Still, sweat broke across her brow.
I knew it. That old relic must be plotting something in Pierrde.
"Lord Romulus."
Her voice now carried heartfelt respect.
"I hope the Deathwatch will assist me in purging this Ark Mechanicus of the Dark Eldar, in the name of the Inquisition."
Romulus heard her repeat the demand to exterminate the xenos, and instinctively felt trouble behind it.
But before he could probe further, the scrape of metal on chain came from the elevator shaft.
Everyone turned.
Aglaea reluctantly bit back her words.
Clank—
The chain tightened, and the descending lift halted with precision in the chamber below.
On the mechanical platform stood a massive construct.
As it stepped forward, the transmigrators finally understood why this so-called Archmagos was classed as a "behemoth unit" on the tabletop.
To call him Archmagos, steeped in culture, was polite. To them, the thing before their eyes was nothing less than an iron giant.
"Your armor is fine?"
"Relax. Everything's perfect. Aside from La'er the coward still hiding in Cataphractii plate, the rest of your suits are true Cataphractii. I matched the data myself. Even the paint schemes are accurate."
Romulus reassured the group.
"I can teleport with psychic powers now. Why would I wear Cataphractii?"
Rameses muttered defensively about being the odd one out.
"As for the height issue, don't worry. These Primaris-sized bodies are unusual among Astartes, but not rare. Tiberlos is even bigger than us. He can only wear modified Dreadnought armor if he wants Terminator protection."
The others studied the colossal Magos with curiosity. Yet Cawl ignored them entirely, going straight to Tiberlos.
"Cargo."
That was all he said, his mechanical body humming in a resonant frequency.
Tiberlos nodded to Captain Akia of the Third Company. Akia led several Red Sharks to drag a massive black container from a transport.
Thunk!
The Archmagos jammed a mechadendrite straight into the container, violently breaching it.
With the trade begun, those excluded resumed their interrupted conversation, nursing the odd feeling of being ignored.
"Greetings, Canoness. I am Orlando, Marshal of this crusade fleet."
Before the Inquisitor could speak, the Marshal struck his chest in salute to the Sisters.
"Greetings, Lord Marshal. I am Arabella."
Arabella immediately returned the Aquila salute.
"May the Emperor's light shine upon us both."
The Black Templars and the Ecclesiarchy had always shared close bonds, united by their fervent worship of the Emperor as God. They gladly fought alongside the Sisters.
After the brief courtesies, Orlando turned to Romulus.
He did not recall the Deathwatch being wealthy enough to outfit a remote kill-team with Cataphractii suits.
"I do not recall the commander of Watch-Station Eternal Hunt being named Romulus."
He spoke bluntly, his tone stiff as if in accusation.
"They fell during a Chaos ambush while purging Dark Eldar on the edge of Pierrde Sector. You may confirm with Canoness Arabella."
"Apothecary Sifris Gage fought to the very end, allowing us to recover some of the gene-seed."
Romulus answered evenly.
"There were no Black Templars among them."
"Are you still fulfilling the mission to reinforce Pierrde?"
Orlando wisely dropped the subject.
"Of course."
They had come this far already. They would not leave those deaths in vain.
"Then we will travel together."
Orlando nodded, the candles on his armor swaying gently.
"Are the Red Sharks loyal to the Imperium?"
"Of course."
The Marshal then pressed: "Can you persuade the Red Sharks to join us?"
Are all Dorn's sons this blunt?
Romulus marveled at Orlando's lack of tact. Yet he had to admit, at least the Marshal knew enough to avoid the gene-seed topic.
Still, if you want me and Tiberlos to clash, just say it.
To ask a supposed Deathwatch captain to pressure a Chapter Master, in front of everyone, made it impossible for Tiberlos to agree even if he wanted to.
"You may extend your invitation directly to the Red Sharks."
Romulus replied diplomatically.
"Very well."
Orlando nodded solemnly.
The stereotype only deepened.
__________________________________________________________
If you'd like to support my work and unlock 15 advanced chapters, visit:
-> patreon.com/TLAuthor