Robert stood in a laboratory permeated by the sharp scent of disinfectant and nutrient medium. Cold metallic silver and transparent glass dominated the room, giving it the sterile atmosphere of a surgical theater.
Banks of high-intensity lamps suspended from the ceiling flooded the laboratory with brilliant white light, illuminating every corner—and even the tiny dust motes drifting lazily through the air.
At the center of the room stood a massive glass stasis tank filled with a faintly glowing amber nutrient solution.
Within it floated Hobbes, Chapter Master of the Martyr's Battle Group, motionless as an ancient relic preserved in amber.
Though he remained in a deep coma, the meticulous work of Reddito's servitors had erased nearly every trace of his injuries. The gaping wound across his chest had been sealed beneath a smooth bionic plate with a muted metallic sheen. Flesh and machine blended seamlessly, making it nearly impossible to distinguish where one ended and the other began.
Now that the blood and grime had been washed away, Hobbes' features were fully revealed. His face seemed almost sculpted—handsome, sharp, and noble—yet tempered by the quiet resolve of a veteran who had survived countless wars.
Robert couldn't help blurting out, "Can someone really be this handsome?"
"Space Marines are among the Omnissiah's finest creations," Reddito replied without inflection. "If they are not handsome, they are at least... formidable."
Robert tore his eyes away from the stasis tank.
"How long do you think it'll take him to recover?" he asked. "And... are there really no other survivors?"
"A battle barge caught in a Warp storm. Overrun by daemons. Followed by an uncontrolled atmospheric crash." Reddito counted each disaster on his mechanical fingers before looking at Robert. "How many survivors would you expect—even among the Omnissiah's finest creations?"
Robert fell silent.
He wasn't wrong.
Given everything the battle barge had endured, the fact that Hobbes had survived at all bordered on miraculous.
"As for suspended animation..." Reddito picked up a data-slate covered with scrolling runes and medical readouts. "Historical records suggest recovery requires several years at a minimum. In less fortunate cases, more than a decade. My own observations are consistent with those estimates."
His mechanical eye shifted toward Robert, its crimson glow intensifying slightly.
"You wouldn't normally ask such an obvious question."
A brief pause.
"What are you really thinking?"
To anyone unfamiliar with Reddito, the remark might have sounded sarcastic.
Robert knew better.
The Tech-Priest was asking exactly what he meant.
"You already know."
The crimson light in Reddito's eye flickered almost imperceptibly.
Silence settled over the laboratory, disturbed only by the steady stream of bubbles rising through the nutrient solution.
Finally, Reddito spoke.
"No."
"It won't work."
"The risk remains unacceptable."
Robert sighed.
"You know what an Inquisitor would think if they heard this story."
He counted them off himself.
"A Space Marine battle group disappears into a Warp storm. Everyone dies except the Chapter Master. The ship crash-lands on a world that hasn't paid Imperial taxes in decades—quite possibly a rebellious one—and then suddenly begins rebuilding its strength."
"That is tomorrow's problem," Robert replied quietly.
"If the Orks find that battle barge today and follow it back to the hive city..."
He looked toward Hobbes.
"There won't be a tomorrow."
He was right.
The battle barge had crashed upside down in the yellow wasteland outside the hive. Thick black smoke still poured from its ruined hull, visible from dozens of kilometers away.
It was practically a beacon.
Anyone reaching the wreck would only have to look toward the horizon to spot the immense hive city rising in the distance.
"So why did it have to crash there?"
The sudden roar echoed through the laboratory.
Reddito slammed his fist onto a metal workbench with enough force to rattle every precision instrument resting upon it.
"It brought us nothing but trouble."
"It may as well have erected a giant beacon saying, 'The humans are here.'"
The lights within his mechanical eyes flickered erratically.
A moment later, he inhaled deeply. The rhythmic hum of his respirator filled the room.
"I apologize," he said calmly. "My hormonal regulation briefly deviated from acceptable parameters."
Robert chuckled.
"I'll let it slide. You're practically organic by Mechanicus standards."
Reddito ignored the joke.
"So."
Robert met his gaze.
"Have you made your decision?"
The Tech-Priest's mechanical arm lowered slightly.
For just a moment, beneath the layers of steel and circuitry, genuine weariness crossed his face.
"So this is it."
"I'm truly aboard your pirate ship now."
"And there's no getting off."
"But understand this."
His voice immediately returned to its usual cold precision.
"We possess only two viable gene-seeds."
"One recovered from the fallen battle-brother."
"One extracted from the Chapter Master."
"I am not a Magos Biologis."
"If I alter the implantation procedures carelessly..."
"...failure is the most probable outcome."
"No matter."
Robert reached into his coat and withdrew a neatly folded sheet of parchment, as though he had prepared it long ago.
"Practice first."
He handed it over.
"Choose whoever you want from this list."
"I'll guarantee that every subsequent subject is biologically identical to the first."
"When you're confident enough..."
"Then we'll perform the real implantation."
Every name on the list belonged to a volunteer player.
The moment word spread that there was a chance to become an Astartes, volunteers had appeared faster than Robert could record their names.
As for "biologically identical"...
If every test subject were simply the same player resurrected over and over, the similarity couldn't possibly be higher.
"Hmph."
Reddito accepted the parchment.
His mechanical eyes swept across the names, pausing over each for only an instant while hidden calculations unfolded behind the crimson glow.
"You and your soldiers continue to confound me."
"On one hand, you treat your own deaths with astonishing indifference."
"On the other..."
"...you consider flogging laborers morally unacceptable."
Robert grinned.
"So you've still failed to understand why the Soldiers Committee succeeded."
Reddito offered no reply.
His gaze continued scanning the list.
Finally, one pair of names caused him to stop.
"These twins."
"They'll do."
"There are two gene-seeds."
"It is... appropriate."