Chapter 57: Orks Guard the Gate!
As the Hive Ships pressed ever closer to the Endless Agri-worlds, the boundless tide of Tyranids was on the verge of shattering the fortress defensive line held by the Space Wolves.
Even with vast numbers of xenos being destroyed by the sturdy fortifications, the Tyranids had access to limitless biomass and charged forward with complete disregard for their own losses.
"For Ultramar!"
Masses of Space Marines clad in silver armour fought desperately across the front.
Swarms of Tyranids had already broken into the defensive bastions of the space stations, and with the endless resources of the Hive Fleet behind them, they ground the defenders down in a merciless war of attrition.
Even the Space Wolves, relying on their hard-won experience, resisted to the last — and still suffered grievous losses.
"Chapter Master — bad news!"
"Word from Macragge — the First Legion's Primarch Lion has turned traitor and attacked our gene-mother Guilliman!"
"Calgar has already turned back to relieve Macragge. Should we also—"
The company captain hadn't finished speaking before the Space Wolves' Chapter Master Huron cut him off with a roar.
"No!"
Huron shut down the idea immediately. He knew perfectly well how important the gene-Primarch was — but he had come to the Endless Agri-worlds bearing direct orders from the Primarch herself.
"If our gene-mother has not called us back, then there is no need to go back!"
"For Macragge, for Guilliman — the best thing we can do right now is follow orders. Follow the Primarch's command. Not add to her problems."
"I don't know why the First Legion has suddenly turned traitor!"
"But right now, in this situation, we must hold this world to the last. Take the weight off the Primarch's shoulders. Is that understood?"
Everything unfolding on the board, Caleb naturally watched with his own eyes.
That Huron — the Red Corsair himself — would say something like this was beyond even Caleb's expectations.
It seemed Guilliman's headpat had done real work. Despite the current chaos, the vast majority of Ultramarine Chapter Masters retained at least basic rationality.
Though not all of them, it had to be said.
Quite a few Chapter Masters, the moment they heard their Primarch had been attacked, immediately lost their heads and turned back anyway.
Originally, much of this sector's Eternal Fortresses had been under Calgar's command — but with Calgar gone, a great many of the defensive lines simply... emptied.
Tyranid swarms poured through the gaps like a tide.
This directly caused several defence lines to fall in succession.
At this rate, the entire front collapsing was only a matter of time. Even the Space Wolves and the other Ultramarine successor chapters fighting with everything they had — it was a drop of water against an ocean.
"Everyone, hold the line!"
"Command of this defensive front now falls to me. I am the Chapter Master of the Space Wolves!"
"I made a promise to the Primarch — I will hold this line!"
"The Space Wolves will stand at the very forefront. And every one of you whose gene-mother is Lord Guilliman — stay here. To the last warrior!"
Huron finished speaking and personally led the charge, power sword in hand.
Many of the Chapter Masters here had met the gene-Primarch in person. On hearing that their Primarch-mother had been attacked by a traitor Legion, their hearts burned with urgency.
But Huron's words brought the hot-headed Ultramarine chapters back to their senses, one by one.
"Huron's not wrong, even if this man violated the Codex Astartes and built himself a several-thousand-strong super-regiment."
"But right now we've got Tyranids in front and traitors behind — this isn't the time to nitpick that."
Even the Chapter Masters who had serious grievances with Huron held their tongues.
With the Space Wolves as the core of the current defensive line, they had no choice but to rally around him to hold the front.
Watching this, Caleb could only shake his head.
"You really are Guilliman's good son, aren't you."
"Don't tell me you inherited the ambition too?"
Looking down at the board, Caleb couldn't help but marvel.
Huron had genuinely inherited Guilliman's ambitions. A move like this would have been considered borderline treasonous even within the Ultramarines. Had the Primarch not returned, the High Lords of Terra would have had more than enough grounds to condemn Huron for insubordination.
And right now, Huron wasn't just rallying the fortress's fighting strength. His logistics were impeccable too — drawing on several satellite manufactorums, the Space Wolves could still produce substantial quantities of supplies. In the short term at least, the Hive Fleet Mothership was not getting through this line.
"Interesting."
"Should I lend a hand? Maybe pull a little trick or two?"
Caleb's hand held a formidable collection of Imperial warships — including an Imperial Phalanx-class fortress. A mobile space fortress of that scale could single-handedly anchor an entire defensive front wherever it was deployed.
And now, in this hour of crisis, was the perfect time to put it down.
He watched the endless Tyranid tide breach the cordon, surging toward the vast ocean of agricultural land below.
Caleb lifted the Phalanx model and set it onto the board.
A single confirmation — and the board responded.
[Deploying: Phalanx]
[Naval deployment limit reached. No further naval units may be deployed at this time.]
[Each mission completed will unlock additional naval tonnage.]
[Deploying the Phalanx will additionally provide one full Chapter of Imperial Fists as complement.]
[Friendly units garrisoned within will increase the Phalanx's defensive rating and may utilize friendly Machine Spirits for enhancement.]
"Outstanding."
As Caleb placed his hand down, the colossal fortress materialised out of nothing at the edge of Macragge's star system — emerging from the Mandeville point.
This sudden Imperial reinforcement sent a surge of elation through every loyalist on the front.
"What in the Throne's name — where did this come from?!"
The Imperial Fists, having just snapped back to awareness, had no idea where the God-Emperor had guided them. They only knew that after a sudden Warp storm, their Phalanx had been swept into a chaotic immaterium current.
In the distant murmurs of the Warp, the Imperial Fists came to understand — this was the Emperor's directive. Their destination was Macragge.
But a sudden shadow in the Warp had sent them off course.
"By the Primarch! For the Emperor's glory!"
The Imperial Fists were not many in number, but to the Space Wolves right now, they were a tremendous asset. And the sudden appearance of a fortress of that sheer scale opened up far bolder tactical possibilities.
Huron immediately opened a channel to the Imperial Fists' Chapter Master.
He briefed them on the Tyranid situation — and said nothing whatsoever about the First Legion's possible treachery.
Huron himself didn't know much about what was happening there anyway. All he could do right now was use this reinforcement to clean up the Tyranids as fast as possible.
To an ordinary person, this arrangement would seem unremarkable. But Caleb, watching from above, caught a faint glimmer of shrewd calculation underneath it.
That scheming Huron — genuinely scheming.
His loli-mother was getting bullied by Leon right now. And instead of ordering the reinforcements to rush back and save her, Huron had pointed them at the Tyranids and pulled them into his fight.
Though — Caleb had to admit — some of his own guidance was responsible for that.
Still, the fact that Huron had suppressed the information completely left Caleb genuinely stunned.
"...Not bad at all."
"If Huron never went renegade, he might have earned the title of Chapter Hero in the Age of the Primarch's Return."
"This man's political instincts are pure Guilliman bloodline. He's clearly read the situation — two loyalist Legions tearing each other apart helps nobody. The internal chaos isn't what it looks like on the surface."
Caleb had barely finished that thought before the Phalanx in the sandbox began wrecking everything in sight.
At 150 kilometres in scale, the overwhelming majority of Tyranid vessels had no means of approaching the super-fortress at all.
Even a Hive Fleet Mothership stretching a full 300 kilometres in length couldn't make up the difference — because that Mothership hadn't spec'd all its traits into combat. In terms of raw firepower, it actually came up short against the Phalanx.
With the Phalanx in play, the rest of the Imperial fleet used the fortress as an anchor and pushed the defensive line back — all the way to the vicinity of the first line of fortifications, where numerous defence platforms still stood ready to be utilised.
"The God-Emperor protects!"
"With the Phalanx here, our line is unbreakable!"
"Brothers — it is time to handle some family business. With the Phalanx and the Imperial Fists holding things here, you are now free to return and support the Primarch."
The war council chamber. Huron sat in his battered, cracked armour — the aftermath of the fighting written plainly across it.
Most of the Chapter Masters present were also nursing wounds. The scale of carnage in this battle had exceeded all expectations. Many chapters had taken casualties exceeding half their strength.
Even the Space Wolves themselves — that over-strength, Codex-violating super-chapter — had been bled back down to Codex Astartes compliant numbers by the fighting.
"Huron!"
"Aren't you coming with us on the battle barges?"
"I feel like something about this whole conflict with the First Legion doesn't add up — like there might be a misunderstanding somewhere in there."
"But the Primarch is already fighting them. If we don't go back and something happens to her, what then?"
The chamber fell silent. Over a dozen chapters were present; two of them were still stationed aboard the Phalanx helping to manage its defences.
If they all left now, the defensive line would likely open up again — and the Tyranids that had been pushed back would find the gap and pour through.
"Say no more. I'll stay."
"Truth be told, I want to go support the Primarch more than any of you."
"Between us — I never dreamed, not once in all my years, that I would receive the Primarch's personal attention."
The room went quiet for a moment. Then, one by one, voices began to agree.
"She may have fallen into a Chaos trap — but the way she is now... honestly, it reminds me of the human mothers of a thousand years ago."
"Back then, she seemed so small too. I'd almost forgotten, until I saw her again recently."
Hearing the genuine warmth everyone had for the Primarch, Huron finally let himself go completely unhinged in front of them all.
He slammed his fist on the table and bellowed at the room:
"Our current Primarch is a loli who could be everyone's mum!"
"Brothers — I'm leaving the Primarch in your hands!"
The room erupted in stunned silence — then everyone started nodding, because somehow, that made complete sense.
Right, yes — the Primarch right now absolutely warranted being called gene-mother. She was their good mum!
Just as the room had dissolved into collective chaos —
An incoming comms signal froze everyone in place.
"Yooz lot are talkin' a load of rubbish!"
"All dis dawdlin' around — what'z dat supposed ta prove, eh?"
A holographic projection flickered to life — revealing the face of an Ork.
Every Chapter Master's jaw dropped.
They stared at the scene in front of them, utterly speechless.
What in the warp. There had been a Chapter Master lurking silently through this entire meeting — through every single unhinged moment — and they had thought his quietness meant he was mature and composed. It turned out the man was a bloody Ork.
No wonder his battle barge looked so brutish. No wonder his tactical style was so aggressively unhinged. It wasn't military incompetence — it was because the entire vessel was crewed by "Ultramarine Orks."
Staring at the Ork on screen, wearing their Chapter's battle armour—
Everyone went speechless.
Who on the Throne would believe this?
An Ork had infiltrated the upper war council and declared himself a Chapter Master.
Was there any justice left in this galaxy?
"Wot'z everyone starin' at me for?"
"Da Primarch told me — I gotta prove my loyalty wiv kombat!"
"And let me tell ya, my boyz just krumped a load of them bug-fings!"
"Guilliman's our boss. I'm way more reliable than any of yooz lot — not like you lot, bein' all weedy and soppy about it!"
[ID: GuillimanIsMyBoss is currently being voted out of the meeting. Votes in favour: 17/18]
[Do you confirm?]
Huron was so done.
Did the vote even matter right now?
An Ork had infiltrated this meeting. Had sat through all of it. Had listened to every single moment of collective madness.
If word of this got out, it would be a disgrace to the Ultramarines name for ten thousand years.
"Wait—"
A plan formed in Huron's mind.
The Ultramarine chapters had taken severe losses. The fighting against the Tyranids had bled them badly. If the Orks could be positioned on the first defensive line, the Space Marines could preserve their own strength for the second line.
And besides — these defensive lines weren't planets. They were the vast empty void — asteroid fields and debris zones that made up the defensive belt. The Orks couldn't use those asteroids to sneak-attack them anyway.
Throwing the Orks out front as a shield — as cannon fodder — wasn't that exactly what half the Inquisitors in the galaxy would do?
The scheming Huron smiled his scheming smile.
He laid the plan out for several of the Chapter Masters.
The vast majority had no objections. A handful thought it was questionable, but most agreed it was sound enough.
Orks bred fast. Orks holding the first barrier would buy time — no question about it. At minimum, it would keep the line stable long enough for the other chapters to support the Primarch and return.
"This..."
Watching the scheming Huron talk his Ork pieces into position—
Caleb felt his mind go completely blank for a moment.
Guilliman's children were truly a remarkable breed.
A pity Guilliman's signal was so terrible. If not for that one flaw, the Guilliman piece would be an extraordinary asset on the board.
Caleb couldn't control Guilliman directly right now — but finding ways to cultivate a capable patron figure for the situation was still very much within reach.
Huron had always played by his own rules. His political instincts were genuinely sharp.
As the saying went — Orks die at the gate; the clever scheme for the realm.
His own signal wasn't great at the moment, true — but Tzeentch had only manipulated one Custodian to sow discord. Frankly, that was a bit underwhelming for the Architect of Fate.
Caleb's gaze drifted to his Custodian pouch.
That Custodian who had suddenly appeared — the one who declared Leon a traitor? No matter.
Some of the pieces in Caleb's hands carried far more weight than any Custodian's word.
Not the Emperor's physical form — but absolutely more authoritative than an ordinary Custodian.
He reached into his collection and produced a single piece: an elderly figure, leaning on an aquila staff, radiating an air of ancient, weathered gravitas.
Many Primarchs had complicated relationships with this man. But deploying this piece would certainly cut through Guilliman's signal problem entirely.
[Marneus Calgar! I have a task for you. Keep my daughter in line!]
[I've already promised you that some of the Primarchs would be turned into girls. They're being a little difficult — I'm counting on you to keep them in order!]