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Chapter 242: It's Only Been Ten Years
🕑 Added 2025-10-16 10:47:11 +0000 UTCChapter 242: It's Only Been Ten Years
Dawnlight Sector - Pioneer System - Dawnstar - Central Council Chamber.
The giant crystal chandeliers on the dome cast a soft glow, illuminating the four-winged sigil and the ancient map of Earth on the vaulted ceiling with a solemn light.
After a long day of work, Romulus was still in a meeting, communicating through a psychic projection. As the various affairs of the sector had fallen into place, Romulus had been freed from his insane overtime schedule and could now even coordinate the work of other sectors. He was currently in communication with the leaders of the other three development zones, aside from the Ultima Segmentum Joint Exchange Special Zone.
"With the support of multiple forces, we have now completely controlled several key node-worlds within the Maelstrom rift and are establishing a stable reaction mechanism."
"We plan to build a steel ring around the planet's satellite orbits to accommodate more fleet garrisons. Once completed, the Ork, Chaos, and pirate menaces in the sector will also be contained. However, this will require the technical support of the Dawnlight Sector."
"The construction of a stable trade route has brought a valuable development opportunity to the Maelstrom. A large number of Imperial forces from other sectors have poured into the Maelstrom, bringing with them productivity and their own power."
"The strength of the Imperial Guard, including the Imperial Navy, the Inquisition, the Adeptus Arbites, and the Departmento Munitorum in the Maelstrom region is also gradually increasing."
"In response, we have established a comprehensive supply mechanism and have planned more void-docks and fleet anchorages. Although not on the scale of the Dawnlight Sector, we have still maintained a good relationship with these Imperial armed forces."
"Today, the Astral Claws only control 30% of the industrial worlds in the Maelstrom sector, for the more efficient production of wargear to supply the various Imperial armed forces. As for the management of non-key planets, I have either allowed them to self-govern or have handed them over to other Imperial departments for development."
Faced with Huron's report, Romulus nodded with satisfaction.
Any reform is an exchange of interests. Huron had withheld his tithes, giving the Maelstrom a stable environment. Then this environment must also bring convenience to the surrounding Imperial forces. The local powers, having received their benefits, would naturally not say much. Huron's biggest problem in the past was that he was constantly trying to increase the influence of the Astartes, monopolizing trade routes, and marginalizing planetary governors, but he never shared the cake with anyone.
To be honest, Huron was less like his gene-father, Guilliman, and more like Horus in the late Great Crusade, who had gradually lost faith in mortals—believing that humanity was weak and corrupt, and was nothing but a drag on the Great Crusade. And an excellent Astartes could not only perfectly handle the administrative work of a mortal governor, but also did not have to worry about corruption, and did not even need a salary. A proper Astartes-supremacist.
But it had to be said, Huron's operational skills were still there, at least well above the Astartes average. With enough power to support him, he had pacified the Maelstrom in ten years.
An automated servo-skull from the council chamber floated over, its mechanical arm holding a steaming cup of recaff. Romulus took the porcelain cup, the rising steam blurring his vision. He blew gently, dispelling the steam, and looked at the figure of Huron in the projection. In the end, a look of approval appeared on his face. He was pleased that they could guide a person to a better path.
"Well done, Chapter Master Huron."
"It is all thanks to the lords' guidance," the ambitious Chapter Master replied, uncharacteristically, his voice tinged with a rare peace.
It's just like Perturabo's temper improving a lot after he became his own foreman instead of a worker. Now Huron was the officially approved Lord of the Maelstrom. He had achieved his long-sought strategic goal. He had power, and he had money. Even if he couldn't openly declare himself the actual ruler of the Maelstrom, who in the Maelstrom now didn't know that you had to pay a visit to Lord Huron, the Guardian of the Maelstrom, who was in charge of its defense? Don't want supplies? Don't want equipment? Don't want the support of an Astartes Chapter?
Now Huron no longer cared about those empty titles. When he was humble, he was quite convincing.
"As expected. All bad habits are born of poverty," Karna's voice came from the door. He had entered the now-crowded council chamber, a playful smile on his lips. He had clearly overheard the previous conversation.
Ramesses, seeing Romulus still voluntarily working overtime, felt a toothache coming on. The cross-sector communication was occupying his lines. He had to pay for it and maintain the channel. For the Dawnbreakers, it was fine. The sacrifices to ensure the security of the ultra-long-range communication could be replaced directly with soul-energy. But to maintain it... my brain.
Ramesses rubbed his temples. He glanced at the psychic amplifier made of soul-stones beside the hololithic projector. And this was with the Aeldari as operators in the warp. He really didn't know how Malcador had managed to make psychic phone calls to a million worlds of the Imperium at the same time back in the day.
"Trazyn," he said, finding a chair and sitting down, waiting for the report to end. He propped an arm on his hip, his fingertips tapping impatiently on his golden mask. He turned to the green-robed figure who was huddled with Cawl. "Do you Necrons really not have any superluminal communication methods?" He was still after Trazyn's collection.
"What Necrons?" Trazyn slowly withdrew the metal hand he was extending towards Cawl's mechadendrite. The optical lenses on his skull-face zoomed in and out dramatically, like an offended mortal. He didn't answer the question immediately, but instead first made a human-like expression of having one eye bigger than the other. The expression was surprisingly vivid on his living metal face. "Please address me as Fabricator-General Trazyn, of the forge world of Solemnace."
With that, he even gave the gaudy green pontifical robes on his body a self-important shake. The holy symbol on them was the sigil of his Necron dynasty. Cawl's expression under his mechanical mask twitched subtly. To be fair, aside from being a little too green, it really did look the part.
Seeing the other's blatant refusal to even pretend, standing there in red and green with the Archmagos, Ramesses's eye twitched. "Fabricator-General Trazyn," he said, taking a deep breath and repeating with forced patience, "do you have any other superluminal communication technology?"
"No," Trazyn shook his head. Ever since the Silent King had destroyed the command protocols that had allowed the Triarch to control all the Necron dynasties, the Necrons also had to use their Dolmen Gates to hack into the Webway to transmit information for cross-sector communication. It depended on whether there was a Webway gate built by the Old Ones in the area.
The only efficient superluminal method in this universe was through the warp. Even the C'tan, before the Burning One, a rare C'tan who understood warp technology, had hacked the Webway, had to rely on physical superluminal travel.
You see? The warp is noble.
"Ah—" Ramesses leaned back heavily in his chair, the leather creaking in protest. It wasn't that he didn't want to use the Dolmen Gate technology. But before he had wiped out the Necrons, at least the ones who had a bad attitude towards humanity, he didn't dare to promote it. And what was the use of a method that couldn't be promoted? Could it reduce his workload?
He was already having enough trouble keeping the Aeldari from getting into trouble. Did he really think everything was 100% trustworthy? Even the Astartes weren't 100% reliable. Otherwise, Master Arthur wouldn't have had to not come back yet. Did you think you could just throw the Astartes out there and then sit back and enjoy the increased production efficiency, the rise in the sector's strength, and then punch the Imperium and kick Chaos?
The only ones who were 100% safe in this world were the four of them.
"..." And Trazyn understood Ramesses's vigilance towards Necron technology. After all, his race... those who were good at dealing with other races were a very small minority. There were very few who were even sane. Many Necron dynasties had already awakened. The first thing they did was to check if their 'body modules were functioning properly, and to confirm the current time period.' The second thing was to formulate 'the War in Heaven, a battle plan against the Old Ones.'
It was hard to take them seriously.
"Haaa~" Faced with the state of his own race, Trazyn couldn't help but let out a pessimistic sigh. He hadn't paid much attention to other affairs in the past ten years. Instead, he had been rotating through the four 'Primarchs,' making his face known. In the future, a conflict between the majority of the Necron race and humanity was inevitable. This was also why Trazyn had always been cautious in his dealings with the Dawnbreakers. He did not want the 'Primarchs' to see all Necrons, including himself, as enemies.
After all— Trazyn looked out at the dome, at the azure sky. The orbital defense platforms, which had once been hidden among the stars, were now reflecting the rising sun's light into a cold blue-white. The blue sky of Dawnstar was dotted with the signal lights of the orbital platforms, like a river of stars turned upside down.
In the forge-starport, a Dawnlight Sector forge-support vessel was holding its launch ceremony, joining the massive fleet. Compared to Cawl's Ark Mechanicus, this ship was much smaller. It carried enough industrial facilities and personnel to give a planet the production capacity of several industrial worlds in three years. The only drawback was that it was a bit fragile, so it needed a large fleet to escort it.
Watching the navigation lights on the ship's prow slowly light up and trace a long line of light in the sky, joining a dense band of light, countless starships were gathering.
Trazyn couldn't help but sigh softly. It had only been ten years.
