Infinite Metaverse

Chapter 11: The Return Journey

Dragging a half-giant Space Marine while avoiding overly rough terrain to prevent Ogotai from being flung off the makeshift sled meant the return trip took significantly longer than the journey out. By the time Fu Qinghai and his companions arrived, it was already noon on the third day.

The arrival of the trio caused a sensation in the small settlement.

In a community of a few thousand people, where even the smallest gossip became the talk of the town, the return of two seemingly insignificant orphans with a Space Marine—or rather, half a Space Marine—was nothing short of a cosmic event.

Residents dropped whatever they were doing to gather and gawk.

"Isn't that little Locke and Fei? Holy Throne, they've really outdone themselves this time!"

'You think I captured a Space Marine?' Fu Qinghai thought to himself, amused.

"I always knew that kid had potential!"

'Who are you? I don't even know you,' Fu Qinghai muttered internally.

"Make way, everyone, make way," Fu Qinghai called out from the back of the bike, waving at the crowd blocking their path.

Ogotai, sitting in the sled, felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration as the onlookers chattered about him. As a veteran of over two centuries, he had participated in Imperial parades and victory tours, showcasing the might and discipline of the Astartes to the masses. But being dragged around in a rickety sled while being gawked at by a bunch of backwater hive dwellers was a first.

During the Great Crusade, the Imperium had always prioritized its military, with the Astartes serving as the backbone and elite of the Imperial forces. Even a standard Space Marine was a skilled warrior and tactician, capable of commanding small-scale battles. For the average Imperial citizen, a Space Marine was a figure of awe and reverence.

Ogotai, as a company commander, was even higher in the hierarchy. To be reduced to this state was a humbling experience.

Fu Qinghai could sense Ogotai's discomfort and didn't waste time, heading straight for administrator Calvin's villa. The crowd, though curious, kept a respectful distance, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and fascination as they took in Ogotai's battered armour and imposing stature.

When they reached Calvin's villa, the administrator was already outside, having been informed of their arrival. His expression shifted from curiosity to shock as he saw Ogotai in the sled.

"Administrator Calvin," Fu Qinghai began, "this is Ogotai Mangnut, a Space Marine of the Fifth Legion, the White Scars. I rescued him from the starship wreckage."

"Ah... well, that's... good," Calvin stammered, unsure how to respond.

Ogotai, sitting in the sled, spoke in his gravelly voice, "I am Ogotai Mangnut, Company Commander of the Falcon Brotherhood, Fifth Legion, White Scars. I hereby declare Colonial Outpost 17-974 under military jurisdiction. You are to immediately transfer administrative authority to me."

Calvin bowed his head obediently. "It would be my honor, sir."

As the highest-ranking administrative official left behind by the expedition fleet, Calvin had been thrust into a leadership role he wasn't entirely prepared for. Handing over control to Ogotai was a relief.

Fu Qinghai noticed that Calvin seemed more energized and decisive after relinquishing his authority. When Ogotai ordered him to organize a team to salvage resources from the wreckage, Calvin quickly assembled a sizable group.

Before the salvage operation began, Ogotai and Calvin had a private discussion in the villa. Ogotai briefed Calvin on the current state of the Imperium—Horus' betrayal, half the Legions turning traitor, the warp storms ravaging the galaxy, and the White Scars' decision to remain loyal to the Emperor. The news left Calvin reeling.

The implications of Horus' rebellion and the loss of half the Legions were far more devastating than witnessing a battle between two groups of Space Marines. Fortunately, someone capable was now in charge.

Ogotai, however, was unaware of the true nature of the warp storms or their connection to Horus' betrayal. Even many Astartes Librarians, who wielded psychic powers, still viewed the warp as a pure realm, devoid of sentient entities. The existence of the Chaos Gods was not widely known.

Calvin, in turn, briefed Ogotai on the state of the colonial outpost. There wasn't much to report—a few thousand civilians, a starship with limited fuel, and a settlement with minimal defenses. A single orbital strike could wipe them out.

Fu Qinghai was present during this discussion, allowed by Ogotai and tacitly accepted by Calvin. It seemed Ogotai trusted Fu Qinghai, a lower hive orphan, more than Calvin, an Imperial bureaucrat.

This wasn't surprising. While Calvin had chosen to wait and do nothing, Fu Qinghai had taken the initiative to investigate the wreckage and save Ogotai's life. Without Fu Qinghai, Ogotai might not have survived much longer on a diet of corpses.

Fu Qinghai didn't bother explaining the true nature of the warp to Ogotai. Even if he did, why would a Space Marine believe him?

The immediate priority was to establish contact with the White Scars' fleet in orbit.

As Calvin led Ogotai to the colonial ship's communications room, Fu Qinghai's mind buzzed with questions.

'Is there really a White Scars ship in orbit? Why haven't they sent anyone down to investigate? Whose ship crashed here? Why are both the White Scars and the Sons of Horus operating alone, with no reinforcements?'

Ogotai didn't address these questions, and Calvin didn't ask. They focused on the task at hand.

Fu Qinghai watched as Ogotai entered the communications room, now seated in a modified wheelchair. The Space Marine examined the equipment with a troubled expression.

The colonial ship's captain, a man with a thick beard, explained, "This is the farthest-reaching communication device we have. It can send messages to nearby planets, but we haven't received any responses."

Ogotai frowned. The outpost had no astropaths, and long-range communication relied on the warp's stability. That option was off the table.

The civilian communication equipment on the ship had its limits.

Fu Qinghai followed them in, studying the device. This time, the electronic soul in his mind remained silent. Even Tony Stark had his limits.

Ogotai adjusted the broadcast frequency to a military band and leaned into the microphone. "Shortsword, this is Ogotai Mangnut. I am on the planet's surface. Respond if you receive this. I repeat, I am on the planet's surface. Respond if you receive this."

He turned to the captain. "Keep this broadcast on a loop until we return from the wreckage."

The captain nodded. "Understood, sir."

The colonial ship's broadcast could reach orbit, but using a military frequency risked alerting enemy forces. It was a gamble, but Ogotai had no other choice. Fu Qinghai suspected Ogotai had other objectives, or he wouldn't have taken such a risk.

The next day, the colonial outpost's residents set out for the wreckage in a motley assortment of vehicles. Every scrap of metal was valuable on an isolated colony, and a military starship was a treasure trove of resources.

Ogotai needed the ship's military communication equipment and auspex.

Fu Qinghai joined the salvage team.

He had already figured out two things.

First, there was indeed a White Scars ship in orbit—the 'Shortsword'. Otherwise, Ogotai's broadcast would have been pointless.

Second, the crashed frigate belonged to the Sons of Horus, as indicated by the Legion's insignia on the wreckage.

The salvage operation began with the exterior of the ship. The automated defense systems inside had already been disabled by Fu Qinghai, who had pushed Ogotai's wheelchair through the wreckage, taking out the turrets one by one.

The residents worked diligently, knowing that any materials they recovered would benefit the colony. Only weapons and military equipment were to be handed over to Ogotai.

Ogotai, however, grew increasingly concerned as days passed without a response to the broadcast.

"One, two, three, lift! One, two, three, lift!"

The team, aided by servitors and cutting tools, managed to pry open a partially buried hatch, revealing a dark compartment.

One of the workers peeked inside and quickly pulled back. "Sir," he called out to Ogotai, "it looks like a communications room."

Ogotai immediately perked up. "Take me there," he ordered Fu Qinghai.

Fu Qinghai pushed the wheelchair over, and Ogotai hoisted himself up to peer inside. Fu Qinghai followed, turning on a flashlight to illuminate the room.

The compartment was filled with control panels and blackened screens. A body in green uniform lay slumped against the wall.

Ogotai shoved the corpse aside and examined the equipment. This wasn't the bridge, but it had communication capabilities. He pressed a few buttons, but the screens remained dark. "Damn it," he muttered.

"Let me try," Fu Qinghai said, squeezing past Ogotai.

Despite never having seen Imperial communication equipment before, Fu Qinghai worked with surprising confidence. He asked Ogotai for clarification on certain symbols and buttons, then opened the device's casing and began rewiring the internal components.

After a few minutes, Fu Qinghai emerged, covered in dust. "It should be working now," he said, puzzled as the screens remained dark.

'Should be?' Ogotai raised an eyebrow.

Fu Qinghai frowned at the unresponsive device. 'What, even Tony Stark can't fix you?'

Suddenly, he kicked the equipment hard. The casing rattled.

Ogotai blinked in surprise.

With a 'hiss', the screens flickered to life, displaying lines of text.

Fu Qinghai turned to Ogotai. "Is this the famous cogitator?"

"You never cease to amaze me," Ogotai said, his voice filled with admiration. "Is Levant some kind of forge world rivaling Mars? Why have I never heard of it?"

Even an lower hive orphan could repair military-grade communication equipment. Levant must be a terrifying place.

"Talent, just talent," Fu Qinghai replied with a grin.

Time was of the essence, so Ogotai didn't press further. He picked up a headset and began operating the equipment, using the dead crewman's fingerprints and retinal scans to bypass security protocols.

Ogotai pressed a button and leaned into the microphone. "Shortsword, this is Ogotai Mangnut. Respond if you receive this. I repeat, respond if you receive this."

He leaned back against the wall, waiting. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the equipment. Fu Qinghai and Ogotai exchanged glances, the atmosphere growing awkward.

Then, a burst of static broke the silence. "Ogotai!? You're alive?"

Ogotai exhaled in relief, a smile spreading across his face. "Of course, Taral, you idiot. I'm hard to kill."

The voice on the other end sounded urgent. "What's your status? Why are you using a Sons of Horus signal? Where's Chana?"

"My status..." Ogotai glanced down at his missing legs. "Not great. I'm on the 'Griffon'. It crashed on the planet. Chana and the others are dead. I'm the only one left."

There was a pause. "Understood. I'll arrange a landing craft to pick you up."

Ogotai nodded. "Track this signal's location. You'll see the wreckage once you descend to a certain altitude."

"Copy that."

***

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