Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"How did you become an Astartes warrior?"

"When I was young, a stranger came to my family. He recommended a job to me: one that required beast-like greed, machine-like ruthlessness, constant harm and plundering of others, and constant shouting. For the Emperor."

"He's an Astartes officer?"

"Yes, but I thought at the time that he wanted to recommend me to the Terran Council."

——————

Jean-Lana is a veteran in every sense of the word.

When the fleet of the Second Legion finally completed their meeting with the Iron Warriors Legion and left the Veil of Destiny abandoned by everyone, heading south, Rana had already served as a warrior of the Emperor. for over one hundred and twenty Terran standard years.

Seventy-eight of these years were spent in the Great Crusade, and the rest were the ups and downs of the War to Unify Terra: Yes, contrary to what most people think, the Lord of Mankind was used to unify Terra. The war was extremely long. It may have taken him almost two hundred years to wipe out the barbaric technological tribes, genetically modified warlords and ancient tyrannical relics on the human home planet one by one. These were once entrenched on Holy Terra. The earth overlords actually possess power and technology that is enough to allow them to separate themselves in the galaxy and become the rulers and emperors of several galaxy regimes.

The time span between the death angels of the First Legion alone, who first appeared as a legion during the Siege of Samarkand, and the aftermath of the official start of the Great Crusade, exceeded one hundred and thirty years. For ten years, not to mention long before the Siege of Samarkand, the Thunder Warriors had been expanding their territories as the Emperor's messengers of death.

And Lana has witnessed almost all these changes: as one of the earliest warriors of the Second Legion, he first went into battle and saw the heroic appearance of the Emperor for the first time when he besieged and destroyed Holy Terra. During the last temple [Thunder Stone Church], he acted as the vanguard of the Second Legion. In the following more than a hundred years, he never left this identity.

He is the immortal vanguard, the leader of the vanguard detachment, responsible for early intelligence reconnaissance and necessary front breakthroughs during the war: he is very satisfied with these responsibilities and has never thought of going further in status and title, despite his resume, honors and The medal was enough for him to become the leader of the Second Army, but he never thought of leaving his basic command position.

In other legions, this may seem a little strange, but in the Second Legion, characters like Lana abound. The peculiar and simple pragmatism is one of the most deep-rooted characteristics of the Sons of Morgan. They have a set of In the eyes of battle brothers from other legions, there are even some unbelievable values. A large number of veterans and meritorious personnel are willing to stay in the grassroots positions [where the legion needs them most] instead of continuing to climb up: because those so-called high positions and powerful positions are not Not enough to attract most of the Second Legion's warriors.

As a result, this resulted in a rather interesting phenomenon: in other legions, especially among the War Dogs or Iron Warriors, their superiors had unimaginable authority and control over ordinary warriors, but when Morgan took over the Second Legion Previously, the leadership of this legion was known for being relatively weak.

Because you never know that the ordinary veteran, squad leader, technical sergeant or administrator in your eyes is a legend with how many years of service, how many military exploits and medals he has: The Sons of Morgan are transforming surgery and recruits During this period, they had one of the best damage rates, but once they reached veteran status, they would basically become the famous battlefield phoenix.

Figures like Rana, who are comparable to Marshall or Bayar's contemporaries, have at least three figures in the legion, and those who have witnessed the final battle of the Thunder Warriors may even exceed two thousand: if one The Dawnbreaker joined the legion on the eve of the Great Crusade, so now, at least two-thirds of the entire Second Legion have far more seniority than him.

These experienced grassroots backbones allowed Morgan's descendants to become imperial phoenixes that could be reborn at any time, but the resulting low level of organization eventually led to the disastrous consequences of the division of the legion: the benefits of these legion traditions And the disadvantages seem to have become a confusing topic that can never be explained clearly.

But this has all become history, and it has become something that no one cares about. Since Morgan returned, the Second Legion has knelt under the boots of its genetic mother, allowing her to knead and change it at will, and some of the original The atmosphere has also changed unconsciously.

A rather obvious change is that many Dawnbreakers who were originally "comfortable in poverty and happy in life" are beginning to look for ways to climb up. Although they still don't care much about the temptation of high positions and power, there is one thing that they have to admit and have to admit. care:

That is: an important minister of the legion is always closer to their genetic original body than an ordinary low-level officer, and is more likely to gain the favor, eyes and trust from their genetic mother.

Closer to the Primarch.

For any true Astartes warrior, this is an absolutely irresistible temptation. It is far superior to the so-called status, power and honor. It is something that even the most desireless Angel of Death cannot escape. The greedy desire to renounce and resist.

In other words, this is their instinct.

At least, for Lana, he regarded it as an instinct: after the return of the Primarch, the low-level command position that originally made him quite satisfied seemed to be closer to his genetic mother. Overshadowed.

This immortal veteran will not tell anyone how happy he was when he was elected to the Old Guard and even became the chief. Everything in his private lounge was suppressed by his efforts. In the ecstasy, they were twisted out of shape by their trembling hands, crookedly, and scattered all over the floor, as if they were crammed into a company of Space Wolves.

He was promoted to a higher rank, wore more gorgeous brochures and medals, and walked into the command rooms and offices in the core areas of the battleships. All these things that he once didn't pay attention to or even disdained now made him feel real joy: Just because every step he takes is one step closer to his original gene.

As a veteran of Terra, Lana easily found his destination on the huge Glory Queen-class battleship: the Great Council Chamber, theoretically the processing center for everything in the Legion, and everyone who can enter and sit down here. , can justifiably command ten company commanders.

After handing over his ID and military badges to the two guards, Lana opened the door and slowly walked in. Before his figure completely appeared in the room, he had already observed this spacious but simple center of power. It's over.

The Great Council Hall is a spacious place large enough to accommodate a company, but its internal decoration is very simple, with a pragmatic aesthetic common to the Second Legion: a round table large enough to occupy the center of the room On the top, it looks like it was cut from a thousand-year-old tree. It is the most natural work. The carefully managed table top and unadorned edges bring a kind of visual equality, making everyone Anyone who sees it will subconsciously know that this is a place for speaking freely and communicating with each other.

The round table was large, and it looked like it could squeeze more than thirty Astartes warriors onto its long edge, but in fact, there were less than fifteen seats scattered here and there, some far apart. Far away, some are very close.

Outside of the round table, there is still plenty of space in the Great Council Chamber. Some of it has been used to place bench seats and filing cabinets that are slightly taller than the Astartes, while the remaining The space has been left idle. I don’t know whether it’s because I haven’t thought of using it for the time being, or because I want the attendees here to have some visual surplus.

In an inconspicuous corner, you can still see a few low tables and chairs used by ordinary people. Together with a few decorative flowers and plants, a half-full wine cabinet, and a few ancient oil paintings that tell the history of the legion, they form the center of this room. The remaining parts that are insignificant but indispensable.

"Ah, you are here, Lord Rana."

As soon as the Chief Old Guard's eyes passed over the last corner, he heard a gentle greeting. He turned his head and saw an irresistible face. The owner of that face was standing up. Be ready to come and greet him.

The Terran veteran quickly noticed that although the round table did not seem to have any signs of distinction between status and identity, the seat facing the door of the council chamber had a circle of golden lines that was completely different from the other seats. There are two seats very close to each other on the left and right of the seat, one with silver texture and the other with copper color.

The owner of that voice got up from the copper-textured seat. He walked around the round table unhurriedly, raising one arm in the air early, waiting to shake hands with Rana.

"Welcome, Lord Rana."

"I've been waiting for you for a while."

"Introduce yourself, my name is Hawthorne, I hope you have heard of me."

The owner of this voice, or rather Hawthorne, gives the first impression that he is like a gentle kindergarten teacher: that not fierce face is filled with just the right mature smile, which makes no one unable to It was easy to dislike him. If it weren't for the same tall stature and burly strength, Lana wouldn't be able to see even half of the aura of an Astartes warrior from that kind-hearted face.

"Of course, Mr. Hawthorne, I have heard of your name a long time ago."

Lana quickly stretched out his hand, and while shaking hands, he saw that Hawthorne's light gray hair seemed to reveal fatigue.

"That's really rare, Lord Lana. After all, I don't remember that we have ever seen each other on the battlefield."

"Yes, but I have often seen your signature on various documents issued by the Legion, Mr. Hawthorne, in the two columns of document examiner and approver."

"After all, Lord Marshall and Lord Bayar value my combat effectiveness in the office more than the battlefield. They think that I alone can shoulder the combat mission of the three of us, and this is indeed the case: I once thought about putting every I would write their names on every document in return, but unfortunately I don’t have this power.”

As Hawthorne spoke, he led Lana to the conference table. There were only two of them in the huge room, but when the chief old guard walked to the round table amidst the extremely fast speech of the greeter, He was still stuck in an invisible problem.

"Where should I sit, Lord Hawthorne?"

"Do they...these positions have any specific meaning? Which one of them belongs to me?"

"During working hours, which chair belongs to me, and which one belongs to you. We need to use our brains to remember all this, and then decide where we sit, representing some invisible numbers and collectives. ."

Hawthorne first pointed to the copper-edged chair, and then pointed to a chair closer to the door.

"But it's private time now, the brain is off duty, let's listen to the thoughts of the butt and feet and ask them where they want to sit, after all they are working overtime today."

With that said, Hawthorne casually brought Lana to one side of the round table: the wine cabinet was just within reach, and he took out the wine bottles and glasses that Hawthorne had brought.

Lana sat down with some restraint. He first looked around, then emphatically noted his position, and then turned to look at Hawthorne, who was pouring wine leisurely there: Apart from talking, what does this gentleman seem to do? It's all an unhurried and gentlemanly manner.

The Old Guard frowned and asked the next question.

"You just said...working hours?"

"Yes, working time, and the corresponding private time. I think you should be able to understand these two words. If you really can't understand it, you can bring it in like this: working time is to squat behind the bunker, honestly Use up all the explosive bombs in your hands, and when you run out of ammunition, it’s your private time.”

Lana raised his head and looked at the tall supports on the dome of the room.

"Then here, what is a bomb?"

"Those things you need to browse and review every day, Your Excellency."

"Are they lethal?"

"No, when you don't need these things, you will carry them with you as if they are treasures, but after you use them, they have nothing to do with you. When you collect all the files around you, After they are launched, you don’t have to worry about the consequences: it’s your personal time.”

"But I guess private time won't last long."

"That's right, after all, if you are short of anything, you won't be short of explosive bombs, right?"

Lana touched his chin. He felt that there was something in these words that he couldn't fathom and couldn't identify with. Just like the perfect smile on Hawthorne's face, he felt an instinctive disgust.

"Wait, Lord Hawthorne...well, I still don't understand: why do we have to distinguish between work time and private time? It makes us sound like those clerks of the Council of Terra, we are Astartes , shouldn’t be all..."

"All during working hours?"

"...That's right."

Hawthorne still maintained his smile. He handed a glass of wine to his guest, and then drank by himself.

"There is a problem in your words, Mr. Rana: It is not the word working time that brought about private time. On the contrary, it was we who proposed private time first, and then working time was born."

"So...what if we ask to cancel our personal time?"

“Then there will be no [working hours].”

“…what if we required all hours to be work hours?”

"Then there would be no more [us]."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Continued Cup?"

"Thank you...tell me about the work process here, Mr. Hawthorne."

"Happy to oblige."

——————

“So, when [work time] starts, what do we all need to do?”

“Do what anyone would do: sit in your chair, listen and remember every word of the discussion, speak sincere advice and rational words, and then convey the content of the high-level meeting to the commanders and commanders on the ground. Soldier."

"It sounds like anyone can do it, even dolls without plastic surgery."

"No, Lord Rana."

Hawthorne took a sip of wine and shook his head.

"I've observed it myself."

"The Space Wolves can't do the first thing."

"Thousand Sons cannot do the second point."

"The Word Bearers cannot do the third."

"The Dark Angels can't do the fourth thing."

"...I understand everything else, why can't Qianzi do the second point?"

"For the children of Magnus will neither listen nor discuss with you nor remember anything anyone else says."

"...Well, I guess I don't have the authority to speak on this issue. After all, I have met one Thousand Sons, and he has been in the arena for 1,000 hours now."

Hawthorne frowned.

"1,000 hours, isn't that a little too much?"

"is a bit……"

Lana scratched his head.

"Actually, at the very beginning, many people wanted to see what was so special about [the friend of the original body]. We didn't even ban him from using psychic powers. I have to say that his psychic abilities were pretty good. In the end, In the beginning of the competition, we even won consecutive victories.”

"Then Bayar came on the scene and fought three consecutive battles with Ahriman. Three battles and three victories. The first time was before he could cast his spiritual spell, and he had already laid his sword on Ahriman. As for the remaining two duels, he even waited until Ahriman's psychic spell was used before dodging while placing the sword across his neck."

"It does sound like something Bayar can do, but what next?"

"Then? Then everyone actually wanted to stop. After all, there was no real hatred. Most people just wanted to see what kind of person this Thousand Son was."

"However, there was a problem on Ahriman's side. Bayar defeated him while dodging psychic spells, and he did so three times in a row. It obviously hit him."

"He did something impulsive?"

"...More serious."

"He shouted in front of more than 400 battle brothers present: How can you, a group of brash men who are only thinking about muscles, be qualified to be Morgan's warriors?"

"Then...um..."

"alright, I got it."

Hawthorne drank the wine in his glass.

"I will draft a letter and send it to Prospero in the name of the Legion Council: Thank you Lord Ahriman for his outstanding contribution to the cultural inheritance of the Second Legion, using his practical actions to mingle with us, and reaffirming the The profound friendship between the 2nd and the 15th Corps has laid a good foundation for future cooperation."

Lana blinked.

"In the name of the Legion Council...does this mean I also want to sign?"

"It's not functionally required, but if you want, no one will refuse to sign your name. After all, you are also a member of the Legion Council. Although we don't expect you to be the icing on the cake every time, but if you want to work with If we face possible troubles together, we will accept it."

“One more person signing means one more person sharing the risk, which is definitely a good thing for other people.”

"…share the risk?"

"You could call it democracy."

Hawthorne poured another glass of wine and raised his glass to his guest.

"Then they were affected together?"

"The failure of one person is dereliction of duty, the failure of two people is a secret deal, and the failure of three people is a small group, but the failure of a group of people is not called a failure, it is called a decision-making error. It is a force majeure problem that no one needs to take responsibility for. This is responsible.”

Lana blinked. He touched the round table next to him and felt an extraordinarily cold feeling.

"Is this what we do in the Great Council Chamber? Discussion and review?"

"To be specific, it's called exchange of opinions and daily management: our working time is generally ten to fifteen Terra standard hours, of which four to seven standard hours are used for discussion, and the remaining time is used for reviewing various documents. "

“Why do we spend more time reviewing documents than discussing them?”

"Because discussion determines what we are going to do now, and reviewing documents is based on what we have done in the past: there is always more in the past than now, right?"

"What's more, the things that can be discussed here are often things that have become or are becoming established facts. The discussion we have to do is to formally acknowledge the occurrence of the facts. This will not take too long."

"So why do they have to be discussed here instead of just acknowledging it when the various departments have negotiated it privately?"

"Because it was private time."

“That’s the value of working time.”

Hawthorne smiled.

"Show your attitude, admit the established facts, then write your name on the corresponding document, and then deal with the next thing. When they are all done, re-review the established things that have been decided before. This is our The workflow is not complicated.”

"Every document needs to be reviewed?"

"This won't take long, Mr. Rana, you just need to write your own name on the cover, and they will transfer your name to the page where it is needed, and usually, you just Need to write your name once.”

"...Occasionally write multiple times?"

"Sometimes, you do have to write your name twice, but you better hope you don't run into those times."

"Where will it be written the second time?"

"There is a plea of ​​guilty to malfeasance in office."

——————

Rana sat there, silent for a very long time.

He was silent for perhaps ten minutes before he raised his head and looked at Hawthorne in front of him with blazing eyes.

"Unacceptable? Sir Rana?"

"...Yes, I can't accept it, I can't accept this..."

"Inefficient? Pedantic? Bureaucratic?"

"..."

"It doesn't matter, I still have forty adjectives that can be used in this sentence."

Hawthorne leaned back in his chair, and Rana couldn't tell for a moment whether he looked more like an Astartes warrior or a bureaucrat from the Terran Council.

"If you can't accept it, then Sir Rana, I have another way."

Hawthorne straightened his throat and shook the wine in the glass until a shallow vortex emerged.

The next moment, the nice gentleman with a smile on his face disappeared. In Lana's somewhat shocked eyes, the person in front of him turned into a cold and ruthless operating machine.

"The branch fleet led by Cortes has returned. They are carrying a batch of the highest-level secret supplies, a legion-sized Catachan auxiliary army, and a report with a casualty rate of more than 50%. All this is to be reported to the Primarch, and the Council allows only one record to remain."

"The reconnaissance troops, vanguard teams and Rogue Traders sent to the Avalon sector and nearby sectors have generally returned. All the star maps and world information have been sorted out and reported, and handed over to the direct reports of the original body. The information department will carry out screening, and the Council should identify and verify the first batch of attack targets, and report the plan to the Primarch."

"The envoy from the Ultramarines Legion has sent us an application before the festival. If the time is correct, we should welcome him three Terran standard days after arriving in Avalon. The welcoming ceremony at that time will be the same as the corresponding one. For the deployment of personnel, plans need to be drafted in advance and submitted to the Primarch for approval."

"besides……"

Rana blinked his eyes. He looked in shock at this cold political machine that he was talking about in front of him. He didn't have even the slightest resemblance to the kind-faced old man a few minutes ago, except for the symbol of that end. Old light gray hair.

In a matter of seconds, Hawthorne spoke out a dozen crucial topics and proposals in one breath. He spoke so fast that even Rana could not react. In shock, I watched the actual person in charge of the legion council in front of me finish all the proposals in one breath, and then spent a shorter time picking out all the issues, precautions and special cases and stating them separately.

Until this time, the whirlpool in the wine glass had not completely disappeared.

Hawthorne returned to his harmless smile. He shook his chin towards Lana and said in a soothing tone.

"This is the true efficiency of the Legion Council. Lord Lana, what we need to ensure is that any emergency situation will be presented to the Primarch or anyone who needs it within one minute.

"That...before..."

"That's work time."

Hawthorne smiled.

"Those are not responsibilities, they are the jobs the Primarch gave us, the things she expected us to do."

"Although no one can understand what she means now, everyone believes that the system we have formed now will help our original body in the future. It will enable us to fulfill what we should fulfill in her plan. Part of the responsibility.”

"A nearly mortal council?"

"Of course you can call it that, Lord Lana, but you can also call it: the mirror image of the Terran Parliament. Doesn't this sound like a sacred and noble feeling?"

“Who needs the sacred and the noble?”

"Those mortals who are in need, whether they are those of Terra, those of Avalon, or those who will live under our rule in the future, they will squeeze their heads out and join this world in their The Council, which we recognize as sacred and important, was content with their position as a central and powerful hub in the Primarch's realm and ignored the other plans of our Mother."

"To the outside world, our Primarch wants many people to believe that in the country she rules, mortals hold a considerable part, or even most, of the power."

"But...this is the Legion..."

"After our Primarch founded her kingdom, people like me who originally belonged to the Legion Council could leave their seats and form a so-called National Council or Round Table Council to serve as the official ruling gene. The supreme organization of the Primarch's realm, drawing the attention of those mortals and Terra."

"Then let those real new blood enter the legion council to manage the legion: isn't this a very simple matter?"

"So, in your eyes, we are practicing this meaningless mortal move: because except for you and a few really important rising stars, most of the people in this council are actually people who are about to retire, Like it’s me.”

"The Primarch gave me respect, gave me a decent step, and gave me a position where I can still exert my value. Although it sounds like it has nothing to do with the battlefield and honor, but you know, I also Don’t care about that stuff.”

"It was our genetic mother's way of telling me that when she could be useful to me in another place, that's what I wanted."

"You know, in almost all legions, there is some kind of conflict between the Terran veterans and their Primarchs. This conflict sometimes even leads to an obvious tragedy."

"And in our Legion, although it is not obvious yet, as we are about to arrive in Avalon, the addition of new recruits will also make those of us the veterans of Terra in the eyes of the Primarch."

"And this is just her test of us, a proposal."

"A suitable retreat, a position where I can continue to shine: what else do I need to look forward to?"

"You know, Lana, the dissatisfaction of many Terran veterans is not actually because of the so-called status, honor, and title. What they want is actually very simple."

"They just don't want to be forgotten."

"And our genetic mother has made her attitude clear: she will not forget us."

"Just as she gave you her position as Commander of the Guards, she gave me the right to make sacrifices with mortals, and I am happy to take over these rights and continue to serve the Legion and the Primarch on a bloodless battlefield. .”

"So I followed through and started practicing for it, practicing how to adapt to the so-called rules of the Mortal Council and use them to the benefit of our Primarch."

Lana nodded.

"Form a council and bring you, other veterans of Terra, and the mortal rulers from all worlds together to discuss some insignificant matters, pretending that you can rule her kingdom in place of the Primarch. Illusion.”

"Pretend is not a good word. We only let mortals believe that they can rule this country."

"Let Terra believe it?"

"Those mortals ruled by the Primarch are known to Terra, but Terra does not know either."

"Now, do you understand, Lord Rana?"

"..."

"Yes, Your Excellency."