Steel & Oil: Warhammer 32K

He glossed over Lin's prompting with flattery, then swiftly changed the subject.

"Still, since she has appeared here, it means that my master's conversation with her has already concluded. Allow me to lead you all to the reception hall, to bring you lords to meet my master."

Once more he walked ahead and began to guide them, but Kurande slowed his steps slightly. He leaned close to Lin and murmured, "I don't think what just happened was mere coincidence."

"Mm-hmm." Lin neither confirmed nor denied it. "This steward is indeed a bit too clever. You may probe him a little further."

They said nothing more. Under the steward's guidance, the group arrived before the door of the reception room.

"My lords, it is just here."

He gestured for them to enter, but Kurande was in no hurry. He looked at the steward and said, "Though it is somewhat presumptuous of me, you have done well. I will report your excellence to the planetary governor."

"It is my honour, my lord."

"And so—what is your name?"

Lin noticed the steward grow tense for an instant. He lowered his body still further and answered humbly:

"My name is Ayash, my lord. Ayash."

Kurande nodded, ending the exchange. He, Lin, Maximus Sorn, Issaga, and Lancelot—the five of them—entered the reception room together. The hall's servants drew five chairs out for them, and they sat down facing the planetary governor opposite. The servants withdrew, leaving only the six of them present.

A faint fragrance hung in the conference room. Lin's olfactory apparatus keenly caught the change, and the analysis told it this was an incense with a mild hallucinogenic effect. He looked toward the planetary governor and found that this governor was handsome of face, but his complexion held a ghastly pallor that spoke of a body pushed beyond its limits. He stood to welcome the arriving Astartes, but even that simple act left him slightly short of breath.

"Welcome, angels of the Emperor. I am Egrim Horst of the Horst family, the current planetary governor of Port Sanctus—this incense is a tradition of our family. We take it in so as to better approach the art we hold as our ideal. I beg you lords not to take offence."

This mild hallucinogenic effect indeed had no influence on the Astartes, but the atmosphere did make everyone present uncomfortable. For the sake of this planetary governor's earnest words, Kurande suppressed his inner irritation and asked bluntly, "Does Port Sanctus have any confidence in withstanding the Battle Moon?"

"Regrettably, no. Though the Horst family are the administrators of this planet, after this place was designated to become a fortress world of the Navy, the Horst family essentially lost all real power over the world. For many years, the Horst family has devoted itself to the development of art, hoping to use art to inspire the Emperor's subjects... until the greenskin invasion, when the Imperium fled Port Sanctus in panic, and I unexpectedly regained real power."

"It sounds utterly hopeless here."

Kurande raised an eyebrow. Although this governor was not the wine-sack-and-rice-bag wastrel they had anticipated, he did not believe a governor who had only just grasped real power could organize any defence worth the name. The others also looked toward Lin, as if seeking his opinion.

The plan Lin had formulated was to intercept the Orks' Battle Moon here, but if it truly proved impossible, they could of course return directly to Terra to organize a final line of defence.

Lin paid the others no mind. He leaned his body slightly forward and looked at the unflustered planetary governor: "I deduce that you do not have only this bad news, Governor Egrim."

"Of course. In fact, this news was only just brought by the two Inquisitor lords." Egrim nodded. "The main fleet of the Sol star region is assembling at Terra, and from any day now will come to reinforce Port Sanctus. They plan to wage the final, decisive battle here against the Orks' Battle Moon."

For a moment the Astartes looked at one another in bewilderment.

First they withdrew the entire fleet from Port Sanctus, and now they say they will dispatch the whole grand army to fight the Orks to the death at Port Sanctus... just what nonsensical scheme were the High Lords playing at?

Maximus Sorn was first to object: "Most of Port Sanctus's factories have already shut down; the support they can provide a fleet is extremely limited. To wage an all-or-nothing decisive battle with no logistics? It defies all reason."

"You are quite right, my lord. The Imperial Navy and the priests in charge of the shipyards evacuated Port Sanctus at the first opportunity—even the marshal of the Adeptus Arbites mingled in with the fleeing fleet. Their large-scale evacuation made it impossible to conceal the news of the Orks' imminent arrival, so now it is not only the factories that have shut down—we can no longer even maintain basic order below the mid-hive."

The planetary governor's answer confirmed Sorn's thoughts, and deepened everyone's dissatisfaction with the fickle, ever-changing High Lords.

In a situation like this, it would be better not to reinforce Port Sanctus at all. Simply assemble all the main fleets at Terra, and wait until they return to relieve the Sol System—and there fight a true do-or-die decisive battle of the main force!

"Why not report the situation here back to Terra through the Inquisitors?"

"Regrettably, they came to notify, not to consult. I think nothing we do can change the Imperium's present decision."

Egrim clapped his hands, and servants delivered the documents he had prepared in advance before everyone.

"We think all we can do is to ready Port Sanctus's armaments as best we can, so as to provide the maximum possible support to the arriving fleet."

This sounded like it fell within Lin's purview, but in fact it did not. The documents pointed out that much of Port Sanctus's production resources came from local mining, and these resources were once transported up through the lower hive to the factories of the middle levels. But the news of the Orks' imminent arrival had caused riots in the lower hive—all manner of gangs and cults baring their fangs in this end-of-days atmosphere, turning the lower hive into a den of rampaging demons.

The Adeptus Arbites was already powerless to guarantee the safety of the resource supply lines. Even without the Orks' arrival, the scarcity of resources alone could swiftly drive this planet to ruin.

Lin understood. This planetary governor was clearly trying to use the strength of the Astartes to sweep through the lower hive, reopen resource mining, and restore order on the planet.

No wonder that steward had said they relied all the more on the strength of the Astartes.

As things stood now, they were instead to be made use of by this planetary governor who lacked his own forces, under the banner of acting "for the Imperium."

But this did indeed explain why this planetary governor had not fled at the first sign of danger as the others had—the Imperial military's voluntary withdrawal was truly his chance to reclaim real power.

An ambitious schemer... was he?

Lin looked again at this pallid-faced governor. He was not entirely certain of this conjecture.

"You wish to use our help to re-establish your rule over Port Sanctus." Lin pointed this out, observing the governor for any change.

Egrim's expression remained as usual; he was not ashamed to speak of it: "That is correct, but it is also the course of action most beneficial to the Imperium at present."

Egrim was right.

Since the Imperial fleet's arrival could not be prevented, then they had to arrange as favourable a battlefield as possible for that fleet's decisive battle. The Ultimate Wall had been convened precisely to defend Terra; from whatever angle one considered it, they could hardly refuse this request.

Egrim rose to his feet. Though his body was frail and unsteady, in this moment he seemed unexpectedly forceful: "The Imperial military abandoned Port Sanctus, but I will not! The stubbornness, the resolve, the valour that mankind displays amid catastrophe—these are the very reasons the Imperium still stands unfallen to this day! Together we shall triumph over this near-annihilating baptism, and let mankind walk out of its agony toward evolution!"

He lowered his sweeping hand: "My lords, what say you?"

His speech deeply moved the sons of Dorn. Kurande looked toward Lin, and the inquiring intent in his eyes now turned to approval of this planetary governor: "We ought to do this."

"Of course." Lin did not deny it; he knew that this kind of glory-laden righteous cause was the very thing the Astartes were least able to refuse: "But we will do it on the premise of understanding the situation, according to our own plan, and by our own methods."

The governor nodded, the expression on his face turning into an irrepressible joy.

"That goes without saying. The Astartes Chapters possess military autonomy in themselves. I will have the steward organize the intelligence I currently hold, and provide you lords with all the help I can... Would you lords care to dine with me?"

"No." Kurande stood up; the Imperial Fists had always been swift and decisive. "Where is that intelligence?"

"It still needs a little time to organize."

"Then, please first assign us a garrison site near the lower hive, and send someone with the materials to us afterward. Once we have grasped the situation in the lower hive, we will commence operations."

"Praise be to you! Blades of the Master of Mankind!" The governor's voice rose high, like a movement of an aria. He signalled the steward waiting at the door to enter. "I have long since prepared a garrison site for you. Forgive my frailty—I am unable to see you off in person. But my steward will guide you in my stead. Please rest assured, my lords."

Ayash bowed respectfully, leading Lin's party out of the governor's mansion, and thoughtfully exchanged their conveyance for an ordinary cargo truck that would not draw attention. They travelled through the hive city, and only after about two hours arrived at a garrison site in the mid-hive.

"This was once the garrison of the Astra Militarum legion stationed at Port Sanctus. However, an earlier transfer order from the Astra Militarum's supreme commander, Hays, relocated all the troops here, and there has been no word of them since." Ayash explained: "But the basic facilities here are complete; please use them with confidence. Later I will have the planetary defence force send over the remaining supplies on Port Sanctus. I beg you, angel lords, not to think them too meagre."

Having completed his arrangements, the steward took his leave first, and Lin transmitted the garrison's coordinates to their fleet. Before long, three Thunderhawk gunships came in, and over several trips they completed the transport of personnel and equipment.

The Chapter's brethren began of their own accord to reorganize the camp and construct simple defensive bastions. The key figures of the allied force gathered together in the conference room originally used by the Astra Militarum, and began to discuss the situation that had just unfolded.

"From the moment we 'caught' that Mechanicus Inquisitor attempting to pull his trick, the planetary governor has been trying to make use of us... but cooperating with him is our best choice at present, since the administrative authority of this planet is still in his hands."

Kurande was first to summarize the situation, and the rest deeply agreed.

The Astartes held a transcendent status, but correspondingly, it was very difficult for them to interfere in the Imperium's own administration. Behind the principle that a planetary governor must satisfy the demands of a legitimate Astartes Chapter as far as possible lay the restriction that the Astartes must not kill a planetary governor without cause.

Were such a thing to occur, the Chapter itself would face the Inquisition's most severe scrutiny.

Of course, given the vast scope of the Imperium, such restrictions actually allowed a great deal of room to maneuver. It was only that now they were right under Terra's nose—indeed, there were even Inquisitors present on this very planet. So as long as the planetary governor could provide help for their coming operations, his personal ambition was not something difficult to accept.

"The problem lies with that planetary governor." Lin pondered. "He seems to understand us a little too well."

It was not strange for a governor near Terra to know something of the Astartes Chapters; the key lay in his attitude.

The Imperial Fists, the Exemplary Fists, the Castigators, and the Black Templars. The very gathering of these Chapters together was itself a dangerous signal—a truth that even the trembling, terrified garrison commander earlier had understood. Lin felt it impossible that this planetary governor did not understand it.

Of course, neither he nor the steward had behaved beyond the bounds of what their stations should know. But within the range they were able to exercise, they had performed too perfectly—which instead made them seem suspicious.

Yet it was only suspicion; not one of those present could produce concrete evidence.

On the premise that they must not accuse a planetary governor without cause, they could only place this suspicion within the range of what must be accepted.

Lin looked toward Issaga. The Librarian shook his head, indicating that he had not detected any anomaly within the governor's mansion.

"It seems we can only accept the status quo for now. The coming operation must begin with sweeping the lower hive. If this governor truly has some problem, we should be able to find some trace of it in the situation of the lower hive."

Lin made the decision with finality, and just then the supplies the governor had promised arrived. As the current technical specialist of the allied force, Lin took the lead in inspecting these materials.

Bolt rounds, bolters, and some grenades, along with a few power armour components—and not in great quantity. Lin was no longer the destitute priest of his years on the Azure Star who had wished he could split a single sheet of ceramite into two for use; naturally he looked rather down upon these things.

Yet among this batch of supplies he also saw triglyceride gel and amino-grain porridge. These two items were the Imperium-designated standard diet for Astartes Chapters. But because Chapters often developed their own distinctive food cultures according to their own circumstances, and because during long-distance supply transport weapons and ammunition certainly took priority over such food, this Imperium-designated standard fare was usually the bottom-of-the-crate stuff that no one wanted.

Now that these foods had appeared here, in a sense it proved that even this modest batch of supplies had already emptied the governor's storehouse.

But had he truly emptied his storehouse—or had he deliberately added these two items, to make them believe he had already emptied it?

Lin found it amusing. Still, however small a mosquito, it is still meat; he directed the governor's servants to carry all these supplies into the camp.

These servants seemed weak of body from long lack of sufficient food. One of them even stood unsteadily while carrying a load. His foot twisted beneath him, and he fell against Lin.

As Lin helped this servant up, he paused slightly. Showing nothing, he continued to lift him, but after that found an excuse to take his leave for a time.

He concealed himself in the shadows, then opened the slip of paper that had appeared on his person the moment the servant had fallen.

"Tomorrow night, nine o'clock. Mid-hive. Meet at the Sleepless Eye bar."

At the end of the slip was the insignia of the Inquisition, its ink-paste not yet fully dry.

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