Emperor's Bane

Chapter 920 The Day the War Begins (44)

"you……"

"You betrayed the Empire...and sided with Horus?"

Even now, even though General Asir is a centenarian who has long since lost his ambition, even though his body is no longer agile, his mind is no longer sharp, and even his alcohol tolerance has greatly decreased, his mind is full of half-drunken pain and the roar of artillery fire outside the window: even so, he can still understand the simplest truth.

The man behind him was his chief of staff, Pickman, whom he regarded as his own son.

He was the mastermind behind the rebellion at the port.

"Betray the empire?"

This remark made the chief of staff laugh, but his laughter was drowned out by the increasingly intense sounds of gunfire outside the window.

"It seems that in your subconscious, you still believe that the High Lords and their bastards can represent the entire empire."

Pickman's voice remained calm, serious, and even somewhat gentle, if one ignored the content of his words.

"..."

The admiral paused for a moment: despite the rising waves of gunfire and shouts outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, despite the constant screams and explosions advancing toward worrying locations such as the equipment department and communications towers, and despite the sounds of fierce fighting between the defenders and attackers that could be heard right downstairs.

But the admiral remained calm: once he recovered from his initial panic, nothing could distract him anymore.

He didn't even consider grabbing the gun or asking the guards outside the gate for help.

Because just two or three seconds after the gunshot at three o'clock, the admiral keenly noticed the unusual activity outside the gate: the guards' loud reprimands and the muffled gunshot from a silenced pistol were two sounds that Asier would never mistake. The sounds of falling to the ground and dragging heavy objects were even more chilling, and he looked at Pickman with some displeasure.

Even at this point, the admiral remained convinced that his chief of staff, whom he regarded as his own son, would not do anything to him.

This is true.

"Don't worry, sir."

Pickman even insisted on using honorifics.

“I had them use anesthetics, and the stuff in my gun was also anesthetics.”

"If I could, I wouldn't want anyone to die: after all, this base is also my life's work."

"so what?"

The admiral smiled.

At the same time, he also caught more unusual activity at the port from the corner of his eye.

To his surprise, it appeared that there were far more warships involved in the mutiny than he had imagined.

The most striking thing was that, of the four battleships still docked in the port, apart from his own flagship, the Golden Bloodline, the other three battleships had already raised a huge banner representing the Shadowmoon Wolf Legion on their decks: the same banner had already spread all over the port and square.

"You intend to dedicate your life's work to the Wolf God?"

The admiral looked at the transport planes that were flying low over the port, which also had the Shadow Moon Wolf insignia painted on their undersides to avoid being hit by friendly forces on the ground. Asir watched with a heavy heart as these transport planes flew toward his flagship. Before the hatches even closed, large numbers of armed soldiers poured out.

Seeing this, the admiral could only hope that his first mate, who was staying behind on the flagship, wouldn't do anything foolish.

"This is not just my opinion."

Pickman, standing behind him, seemed to sigh.

Believe it or not: I actually joined later.

"In fact, when I first arrived, when I had just taken over your work, I had already noticed that there were followers of the Wolf God in your port."

"interesting."

The admiral had calmed down, as if the horrific scene of bloodshed outside had nothing to do with him.

At least, he noticed that his headquarters had completely returned to calm. The brief but intense gunfire that had been taking place outside the porch and on the other floors below had all subsided. Judging from the fact that no one had yet kicked down the door to try to rescue him, it seemed that the goddess of victory had not favored the defenders.

“I remember you’ve been working here for over ten years.”

"Sixteen years and two months, sir."

"So, the Wolf God's spies have been operating right under my nose for a full sixteen years?"

"What a complete and utter failure."

With a long sigh, the admiral slowly touched his forehead.

For the first time today, he felt frustrated.

"Perhaps, sir."

Pickman seemed to smile.

"But believe me, it's not your fault: they seem to have sent exceptionally professional people."

"At least it's not entirely your fault."

"The vast majority of people who are willing to join the War Master team are not doing so out of disappointment with you or... any other reason."

"Including my guards?"

The admiral pointed outside the door.

"The firepower just now was definitely abnormal, Pickman. You never bring too many people with you. With just your entourage, you couldn't possibly have taken this place. Tell me, how many of the guards responsible for protecting my headquarters have betrayed my expectations of them?"

"The headquarters has 1,800 guards, divided into four roughly equal guard units."

Pickman shook his head and then uttered three names.

"And these three captains of the guard decided to lead their guards into the operation: the remaining one chose to remain neutral."

"impossible!"

The admiral decisively waved his hand and rejected it.

“That’s my trusted confidant whom I’ve kept by my side for forty years. How could he possibly betray me? Neutrality is betrayal!”

"No, he did not betray you: his only condition for choosing neutrality was that you could not be harmed."

Pickman paused at this point.

"But you may have already forgotten."

"Do you remember the cause of the riot among the sailors at the entire Belus Coronary Base?"

"..."

"That is the truth, Lord Asir. Your captain of the guard's only daughter was killed by a stray bullet in the chaos of the throng while leading her people in a protest against the unfair taxes levied on Holy Terra. The scene was so chaotic that when he rushed back, he couldn't even find all of his daughter's body."

"But...this..."

The admiral's eyes widened.

"How come I didn't know..."

"Of course you don't."

Pickman interrupted him.

“You wouldn’t know, because the captain of the guard kept it all from you from the beginning.”

“He knows you too well. He knows that no matter how much you trust him, you will not avenge him.”

"So he hid everything: he found me."

"..."

"So, did you also secretly sabotage that negotiation, Pickman?"

"indeed so."

The chief of staff nodded.

"Those rioting sailors had much bigger appetites than you see, until I privately approached the smartest among them, introduced them to Warmaster Horus's plans and the New World, and convinced them: if you've ever seen those names, you should have seen them on the promotion list later."

"I never watch this kind of stuff."

"Terra will make the same mistake, won't she?"

The admiral fell silent: even the entire mutiny seemed to have less of a blow to him than the truths Pickman had just revealed.

He moved with incredible difficulty, as if he had aged fifty years in that instant. He no longer tried to walk to the French windows to observe the scene outside, nor did he try to approach the only door he could face. The admiral now resembled an old man of his actual age, panting and collapsing onto the sofa.

After a long time, perhaps several minutes, Asir finally spoke with some difficulty.

Tell me: who else has joined?

"You're asking a question you already know the answer to, aren't you?"

Pickman put away his gun and slowly walked to the admiral's side, still looking honest, reliable, and dutiful: as if all of this was just a crazy illusion, and he was still the chief of staff, the admiral's most trusted man.

"Many oversights are actually traceable: sometimes we can't hide them very well."

"You should have noticed that there hasn't been any news from the sentry worlds on the front lines for a long time."

"You managed to persuade them too?"

"Some people are dissatisfied with Terra's rule, while others willingly join the Warmaster."

Pickman sighed.

"Honestly, if Lemanrus is counting on these outposts to protect his flanks."

"Then he will suffer a great loss."

“Some governors of the Sentinel Worlds had already fallen from their Wolf Gods twenty or thirty years ago, and some of them even had offspring who became Warmasters’ angels.”

"……anything else?"

"Those patrol fleets."

Now that things have come to this, Pickman seems to have no need to keep it a secret any longer.

So, while a large number of premeditated rebels and a small number of panicked defenders were fighting each other in the streets and squares that had been reduced to ruins, and vying for control of the fleets in the port, the theoretical supreme leaders of both sides were actually in a room where no one could disturb them. They calmly watched the mountains of corpses and seas of blood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, and talked as usual, as if none of this existed.

Pickman was unusually talkative compared to usual.

"We have won over five of the eight battleships to support us and one to remain neutral. More than half of the cruiser commanders are willing to stand with us. As for the smaller ships, they are of no concern: they will use these specially arranged cruise opportunities to secretly deal with those who are not obedient during the sorties."

"With this fleet, we will be able to suppress Fenris's airspace directly from the flank."

"Imagine what would happen if the Space Wolf Fleet at the front discovered that their home planet was surrounded?"

"As for those who couldn't be persuaded, they were assigned missions that wouldn't be back for a while."

"Never to come back?"

"It's a period of time."

Pickman stubbornly corrected the statement.

"Did you know? Of all the declarations of the Wolf God, there is one that I like the most."

“We are not rebelling for the sake of killing; we are rebelling to overthrow this unjust rule.”

“We know that those who are our enemies in this process are either foolish or just as noble as we are, but whichever they are, they should not be a reason for us to take their lives at will: so if we can resolve the problem without bloodshed, then we should not have any thoughts of mass killing.”

"Your men are committing a massacre at the port."

"The casualties will only be a few thousand, sir, which is insignificant compared to the entire sector."

"This doesn't even count as a drop of blood."

"This is a revolution, sir."

"A revolution against Terra and the Highlords."

"Revolution may involve bloodshed, but revolution is not just about bloodshed."

"Is this what Horus said too?" "You can't imagine how much preparation the Warmaster has done for this war over the years."

"Although we are just an insignificant pawn in his grand plan."

"His true core lies with the Space Wolf."

"Believe me: no matter how grand the members we recruit and the riots we instigate may seem to you."

"In Lemanrus's territory, he will only face a worse situation: the Sixth Legion's defeat is inevitable."

Despite the arrogance of a mortal deciding the fate of an Astartes Legion, perhaps due to his long-standing trust in Pickman, or perhaps because he realized that his chief of staff was right, the admiral couldn't help but feel worried for the Primarch he had never met.

Especially considering the awkward position of the corona region of Berlusconi, which is both important and not so important.

If a fleet of Shadowmoon Wolves can indeed pass through here unscathed and launch a surprise attack on Space Wolves' fleet and core area from the rear...

Are Space Wolves doomed to lose?
This doesn't sound like a joke.

"As I said: the War General has been preparing for this war for at least twenty years."

"He devised countless plans and used all sorts of promises to win over countless individuals."

"Who else but you?"

"The one who can decide the outcome of the battle."

Pickman smiled and then looked out the window.

The admiral looked over as well: he knew what the chief of staff was referring to.

With a sense of astonishment and despair, Asir was not surprised by the scene before him: he saw a tall building in his field of vision, the steel barracks standing in the very center of the port, the lighthouse that carried the last hope of the entire guard force.

The armed forces at the naval port: their last trump card in turning the tide during the last sailors' riot.

And now, they've struck again.

Tens of thousands of ordinary veterans who had participated in the Great Expedition, fully armed, poured out of their barracks and gates like steel wolves, rushing towards various places. Meanwhile, the defenders who were holding their strongholds, upon hearing the familiar footsteps and bugle calls, all showed ecstatic joy, turning their heads to look at their savior, to the banner that had brought them victory and peace.

But soon, under the admiral's sorrowful gaze, the ecstasy on the faces of every guard quickly turned into terror.

Because they could see the flag clearly.

A crescent moon hangs in the sky, and a hungry wolf stares: yet another powerful army has fallen to Horus's command.

Do you know why I said earlier that part of the reason for this was your fault?

Pickman's voice rang out at just the right moment.

"Because you have concentrated a large number of talented geniuses who have suffered neglect and injustice in Holy Terra in this port area, it means that they have both the ability and the power to completely control their troops, and they will not have the most basic loyalty to Holy Terra: the process of persuading the armed forces to defect is much smoother than expected."

"He is the most wronged among us: his hatred for Holy Terra and the High Lords is also the strongest."

"After we promised not to harm your life, he immediately decided to join our team."

At this point, the chief of staff couldn't help but laugh.

"Actually, I've always suspected that you knew about our intentions: In the very beginning, I tried to test your attitude with words several times in a very immature way, intending to win you over to our camp. However, you were always unwilling to talk about things related to the Warmaster. You clearly saw the problems with Holy Terra, but you just weren't willing to stand up with us and point them out."

"Can you answer me why?"

"..."

The admiral gave a somewhat bitter smile.

“Pickman”.

"I'm here."

Gunfire roared outside the window, but the chief of staff's voice remained low and sincere.

Tell me: When were you born?

"I was born nine years before the Emperor and the Warmaster Horus began the Battle of Urano."

"At that time, the Great Expedition was almost over."

The admiral sighed.

“You people: You were born at the very top of the galaxy, which has been restored by the Great Crusade. You were born in the peace and prosperity of the human empire. You cannot imagine what the galaxy was like less than a hundred years before you were born. You do not know how precious the peace we have now is.”

After saying that, Asir turned his head and gave his chief of staff a deep look.

Although he was just an old man, his gaze made Pickman involuntarily take a step back.

“Listen, Pickman.”

"I was born in the early days of the Great Crusade, when the fleet of the Empire of Man was just setting sail for the galaxy."

“I have seen the shadow of an era of strife, and I know what the galaxy will look like before an emperor brings peace to it.”

"Therefore, under no circumstances will I allow a real war to descend upon this galaxy again."

"Even if it means enduring the rule of Holy Terra and the High Lords?"

Pickman's voice finally sounded more urgent.

"Yes."

The admiral simply nodded.

Even so, I believe that the most narrow peace is better than the greatest war.

"Because I have actually witnessed both of them."

"So I also know that no matter what suffering the High Lords' tyranny has brought to the galaxy, it is insignificant in the face of the war that your Warmaster is about to start. No matter how eloquent Horus's words may be, he is just a man. He is not a god, and he cannot control the war: no one can truly control a war."

"The moment a war gets out of control, you will realize how precious peace is."

Pickman was silent for a moment.

Then he sighed.

"Please forgive me for not agreeing with your point of view, but I still hope you can do us a favor."

"It's also for your own benefit."

"what do you want?"

"I would like to invite you to the communications room. Judging from the gunfire outside, you can probably tell that the few defenders have no chance of winning this war."

"They just lack a reason to lay down their weapons."

"..."

Pickman stared nervously at his old boss.

To be fair, he had no desire to use violence against the person who had indeed protected and nurtured him.

To his relief, the admiral eventually obediently stood up.

"A speech?"

"We will prepare everything for you."

Pickman humbly lowered his head.

"Not just us: the Horus Warmaster is also very much looking forward to seeing the heroes of the Great Crusade."

"No thanks, I'm hardly a hero now."

The admiral gave a bitter smile; his mood, like the gunshots outside the window, gradually sank.

As he stood up and walked towards the door, Asir seemed to suddenly remember something.

He turned around and looked at his subordinates, whom he treated like his own children.

“Tell me, Pickman.”

"What exactly did Horus promise you?"

"If it were just hatred for Terra, he couldn't have gathered so many people."

"indeed so."

Pickman had no reason to hide anything about this issue.

"The War General is a flexible and generous person."

"He promised power to some people."

"Others, he promised freedom."

"And then there are those who promised glory."

"As for us..."

Pickman paused.

"He promised an opportunity."

"A brand new world."

"An opportunity to clear away everything that has happened before and allow each of us to start over."

"This is something Terra will never give us."

"That's it..."

The admiral nodded.

"So, according to you, Horus will only promise more to the Space Wolves?"

"That's right: the results will far exceed your expectations."

Pickman smiled. That was dangerous.

"Please recall, sir: when was the last time you received a message from Space Wolf?"

“I remember it was just yesterday.”

Asir was resolute.

"That's a newsletter: Wolf King Lemanrus has noticed unusual military activity along his border."

"He is ordering the mobilization of the fleet."

"That's right, it's accurate."

Pickman nodded.

"But do you know what?"

"In fact, seven days ago, the Shadowmoon Wolf fleet had already entered the Space Wolf's territory."

"They didn't find their trail until they wanted to be discovered: the space wolves discovered their tracks."

"..."

These words were like a thunderclap in summer, startling the admiral so much that he froze on the spot.

All he could hear was Pickman's sigh.

"Now you know what I mean, right?"

"Perhaps the outcome of the war is still uncertain."

"But Space Wolf is already dead."

(End of this chapter)