The Overhauled Hull of the Emperor's Will has largely reverted to the same appearance she had when she first entered the Star Sea to serve the Ultramarines, and on her bridge stands a warrior in a red cloak and blue armor, with short, well-trimmed light brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

After waiting patiently for twenty-four hours, the Ultramarines' ship finally received a guidance signal and began to follow the set course into the interior of the system, heading to the dock on the large orbital platform of Bela Karn.

"Do you think we'll find here the answers we've come across the galaxy to seek? Sicarius. ”

Standing beside him was Techno-Sergeant Hephaestus, who had an unusually tall stature with additional modifications and Techno-backpacks, which were painted Martian red like the rest of his armor to indicate that he was trained there and would pray to Ohm Messiah, his bionic eyes making movements, indicating that the Techno-Sergeant was evaluating and calculating what he saw.

"Whatever is here," replied the second company commander, "I will all get them." I have no doubt about it, Hephaestus. ”

In the view of the porthole, the surface of the planet made of blue ice and red iron of Bella Karn was reflected on the golden eyepiece on the waist of the second captain.

——————————

"Who are you talking about?"

Captain Walter, as was his custom, was about to answer the one in the center of the throne—

Then he was shocked to find that it was the new first company commander who was fearless and asked a very rude question.

"It's the Second Company Commander of the Ultramarines Warband, the Lord of the Watch, the Knight Champion of Macurag, the Grand Duke of Talasalian, the High Lord of Otlama, the Company Commander Cato Sicarius, my lord."

"That's a lot of people." The Iron Lord, who was sitting in the center, did not investigate the gaffe of the first company commander in front of the emperor, but instead let out an exclamation of unknown meaning.

The cyborg captain didn't know why, but agreed.

"This company commander does have many honorary titles."

The Iron King turned his head to the mechanical shell of his half-body on the left-hand side, "I think we should get a few of the officers of our warband, it sounds really ...... to report it at this time."

"—Are you sure, Captain, that it was Cato Sicarius who came here? Espendo's Warrior King? The voice of the Dreadnought, adorned with golden wings, sounded unusually angry and suppressed, and then the faces of the Fourth Primordial seated on the central throne suddenly changed. How many ships did they come, but who else came besides Cato Sicarius? What more information is there? ”

The stream of data quickly passed through Captain Vought's biochemical brain, "Yes, Lord Ishtar, while I don't have the title you mentioned in my database, all other traits and personal verification codes match those of Company Sicarus. By order of the Iron Lord, we asked them for a list of attendees for the declared Dust Washing Feast, led by Company Commander Sicarius himself, a team of technical sergeants, a mechanical priest in the service of the Extreme Warband, the captain of the Imperial's Will, and perhaps the Star Whisperers, and nothing more. ”

The dreadnought of the commander of the first company seemed to have fallen into a moment of contemplation of some kind of data calculation.

The Iron Lord's face was so solemn that the atmosphere on the bridge tightened.

【…… It's over, it's over, it's all over! Pepe! I've forgotten and forgotten that Cato Sicarius might have been a particularly bad guy on that Fogham's side!! 】

[Do you only remember such an important thing now?] 】

[After all, this Foggrim's appearance here is a complete accident!] 】

[In the case that there are already precedents like you and me in this universe, you also suggested that Ma'atra and you hold some kind of summoning ceremony, I have nothing to say about your stupidity, confidence and naivety. 】

[Uh, then my best, most omniscient and capable puppy in the universe, Peturabo, will be able to convince Miho again, right?] 】

[Unfortunately, while I am indeed the best, most knowledgeable, and capable Perturabo here, I know very little about what happened to Cato Sicarius in the universe of the faithful Vogrim. - I distinctly remember his comical voice like a court dwarf, where he would repeatedly shout "I~!" Cato! Sicarius! ”】

[Well, that's really not the same thing, in short, he's a ...... at Meifeng's So let's ...... for now Take him back to the office and talk again? 】

[Correct.] Before Vogrim decides to do anything about it, get him out of here. 】

——————————

The Armory's miners pushed out Danat Lysander's bright yellow painted Terminator armor and began to help him put them on in turn.

These small, but sturdy and powerful servants always covered their faces, hands and feet with hoods from their robes, but they, Lysander suspected of them, were quite useful, and never spoke, at least not once the former company commanders, and the current warband champions, had not heard them talk or pray.

While it was true that Lysander had thought that he might not be able to maintain his equipment or get supplies as he once did on a chaotic ship, he soon realized that he was very wrong.

The armory here can't fault even the most discerning Astarte, everything that can be offered to a Space Marine is here, and there is always a lot of choice list data on the hand-over databoard, and there will always be something that people want to exchange for credit points - how to get this credit point is still secretly researched - from the powerful flying backpack that can send the Terminator into the sky to all kinds of rare and expensive equipment from 10,000 years ago, which gradually makes the brothers who love weapons near and far and all kinds of new armor gadgets gradually lost. In good conscience, Lysander really can't blame them entirely.

Oh, and it's really quiet, so quiet that all communication is displayed on the dashboard, and the notable feature is that there is only one Mechanic Priest who occasionally rushes out and seems, and seems indifferent to visitors.

There are very few piles of binary prayers, incense to appease or anoint holy oil before any equipment is made or delivered, efficient and concise written dialogue is synonymous here (hence Lysander's suspicion that the previous difficulties he has suffered are somewhat unusual), and a large number of nimble machines with a few armory servants are enough to do for everyone's needs.

At first, Lysander wasn't used to such a silent, quick, and efficient process of removing and armouring, but after two rounds he quickly got used to it, and now he even began to feel that the armory was a tranquil place on the Iron Blood, perfect for contemplation or meditation during the armouring process.

A spatula bearing the black fist emblem of the Imperial Fist engraved into Lysander's mind was pushed in front of him.

The tall Astarte closed his eyes.

The sound of the fixing bolt being driven into the fixing hole sounded one after another, and the warning beep and status light that marked the completion of the nail jumped to green.

Danat Lysander opened his eyes and grasped the handle of the Fist of Dorne.

He lifted his boot-clad foot and walked towards the transport elevator that led to the docking bridge of the rail platform.

Wail.

(Slowly lying down in the tomb)

(End of chapter)