Warhammer 40k: Ours Journey

Chapter 21: But We Must Still Do Good

"Huh?"

Looking at Arthur, who had lost all of the quick-wittedness he'd displayed while saving them, Ramesses sighed. He had been just as foolish, doing whatever the Emperor told him to, without considering for a moment that the Emperor didn't see them as people.

He spoke, his voice filled with resignation. "Would we have just left these people to their fate?"

At the edge of the plaza, the red-armored Thousand Sons Librarian asked his three "cousins."

"Of course not," they all replied in unison. Wasn't the whole point of them being here to save people?

"Since we wouldn't, why would the Emperor pass up an opportunity to get free labor? Can we go find him in the Warp and demand payment? Or can we just abandon these people now?"

Ramesses's three questions silenced the other three.

Damn it!

They all looked utterly dejected.

Was it any surprise that a guy who got beaten into the ICU by his four creditors for stiffing them would pull a stunt like this? The self-control it took not to punch him was... admirable.

"This feels... authentic," Romulus said, finally understanding what most of the Primarchs must have felt like when dealing with the Emperor. The sheer audacity of treating you as a pure tool just because you were useful was off the charts. While it was true that compared to Rogal Dorn, the traitor primarchs looked like clowns, there was a reason Horus was able to pull half his brothers into rebellion with him.

"You could say that doing good deeds isn't always rewarded," Karna said, rubbing his forehead.

Getting played by the Emperor had, inevitably, dealt a blow to their morale. They couldn't help but see the Emperor through the lens of a "guardian of humanity." But after seeing him operate like this, that filter had shattered a little. Out of their understanding of this world, the transmigrators' first instinct had been to seek the protection of this guardian god for his people. And out of their own moral conscience, they didn't mind making a contribution.

But to have the very people you wanted to protect shoved into your arms like an unwanted burden... wasn't that a bit heartless?

And—

Listening to the prayers and hymns being offered up to the Emperor behind them, a sense of loss welled up in their hearts, even though they had been prepared for it. A few hours ago, they were just ordinary young men from an ordinary world. It was like if you helped save a group of foreigners, and they just stood there thanking God without acknowledging you. You'd feel sad, too.

They were people. When they made a sacrifice, they couldn't help but hope for some positive feedback.

Even just a 'good job' would have been nice.

"My Lords."

A voice interrupted their collective emo session. After they had all composed themselves, Ramesses waved a hand, dispelling the psychic ward.

"Sister Arabella," Arthur said, narrowing his eyes slightly. He looked at the Canoness, and at Alexei and Kovek standing behind her, a hint of confusion on his face. "Is there something you need?"

"Commissar Alexei and Colonel Kovek wish for an opportunity to speak with you."

What do they want with me at a time like this?

A flicker of doubt crossed his mind, but Arthur quickly agreed. "Of course."

Hearing this, Arabella bowed reverently before stepping aside, giving her place to the two men.

"What can I do for you?" Arthur asked calmly.

"Honored Astartes," Colonel Kovek began, standing in the grand hall that had been cleansed by the Emperor's holy light. He carefully produced a laspistol—old, but still immaculately maintained—and held it up with both hands, trying his best to suppress the excitement in his heart. He had never dreamed that he would escape such a desperate situation, let alone that he would fight alongside such a noble and caring Astartes.

"..." Arthur nodded slightly at the Colonel's gesture, assuming a posture of listening.

"On Cadia," the Colonel began, gently caressing the weapon, his eyes filled with reminiscence, "the first gift any of us receives, when we are old enough to open our eyes, is a weapon from our elders. When our fingers first learn to grip, the beam of light that flies from it saves us from the prying eyes of the heretic and the daemon."

"It witnessed my journey from infant to man. It has witnessed the life of every Cadian as they grew to become a coin in the Emperor's purse. It is a microcosm of Cadia's ability to stand tall against countless Chaotic incursions."

As he spoke, a look of deep affection filled the Colonel's eyes, as if he were trying to commit the shape of the pistol to memory.

"And now, I wish for it to be a gift. A gift that carries my gratitude, and the gratitude of the 2,600 soldiers of the Cadian 43rd, the 'Broken Swords,' for giving us the chance to continue fighting for humanity."

The men who rose to command in the Astra Militarum were not always the best fighters, but they were always the ones who understood people the best. They could see the kindness that the Emperor's Angels constantly showed them. And they were now trying to repay that kindness in their own way.

"I sincerely hope you will accept this gift. May you and your battle-brothers stand as tall and unbroken as Cadia."

Finally, a note of apprehension entered his voice. He feared his actions might offend the Astartes' culture, and in doing so, profane this sacred offering of thanks.

The silence lasted for about ten seconds before Arthur reached out and took the laspistol. It was a common model, likely produced on some unremarkable industrial world.

"Thank you for your gift," Arthur said, feeling the envious stares of his three friends behind him. "I will treasure it."

The three Imperial officers let out a collective sigh of relief.

"But—"

The three of them immediately looked at Arthur, their expressions serious. Whatever the Angel asked, they would accomplish it.

"I was not the only one who aided you," Arthur said, pulling the three figures from behind him forward, including Ramesses, who had psychically disguised his armor's paint scheme.

"Without the support of my battle-brothers, we might have been lost in the tides of the Warp long ago. Without their support, I would not have had the confidence to offer you my aid."

"Just as every victory of yours is built alongside your comrades, if I were to lose them, I would not have been able to witness today's honor."

"Therefore, I hope that we might all receive the blessing of Cadia."

Arthur asked, his voice gentle. "Colonel Kovek, are we worthy?"

"Of course, my Lord," the Colonel replied, his face flushing with excitement. "It would be our honor!"

Carrying the Angels' expectations, Colonel Kovek strode back to the ranks of the Guardsmen.

"So?" Arthur asked, tilting his head to look at his friends as a group of troopers, fresh off the surgical tables, began to square off for a friendly bout of honor-dueling. His free hand, however, continued to toy with the laspistol, which was completely mismatched to the size of his gauntlet.

"Well, doing good deeds isn't always rewarded," Karna said, looking away at the ceiling and shrugging again.

"But we must still do good."

(End of Chapter)