The temporary command center had been divided into clearly separated zones by quarantine barriers, each section isolated from the next with the thoroughness that Nurgle's mutated plague demanded even after the walker tide and the Death Guard had been eliminated. The threat that remained was quieter and smaller and considerably harder to verify the absence of, and nobody who had watched what the plague did to a population was inclined to be casual about it.
In the most visible position in each zone, a statue of the Emperor stood. David had carved them personally. Most of the local officials present had no prior knowledge of who or what the Emperor was, but the statues carried something that made people pause in front of them, and in a quarantine environment where every hour brought some new uncertainty, pausing briefly to offer a word in the direction of something that felt stable was not a behavior that required theological conviction to explain.
The Latverian Wehrmacht Guards had completed their extended isolation and decontamination cycle and departed Uttar Pradesh some time ago. The Stormtrooper companies, the Lamenters, and the Intelligent Control Corps remained. Doom and David were operating as the Guardians of Terra's external-facing representatives, engaged in a sustained verbal engagement with local authorities and the United Nations Security Council investigative team that had arrived once the active fighting was over. That engagement was going to take a while.
In a metal-walled room near the center of the command area, Nolan was sitting across a table from Niwa and Director Xian Zheng of S.P.E.A.R.
Between them: snacks, and a bottle of wine that Niwa had introduced as something he personally valued. He had already demonstrated how much he valued it by pouring two glasses, raising his own, draining it, and turning the empty glass to show Nolan the inside. The invitation was clear.
Nolan picked up his glass and took a measured sip, letting the alcohol register on his tongue before he finished it. The sensation was real even if the effect at his current physiology was essentially academic.
"Director Zheng." He set the glass down and turned it slowly between his vibranium fingers. "You know that I cannot get drunk without a quantity of alcohol that would create logistical problems for everyone involved." He glanced at them both. "If there is something specific you need, you are welcome to say it. If it is within my capacity to help, I will not refuse."
Zheng's expression shifted from sociable to something more honest. He refilled his own glass and considered it for a moment.
"Brother Nolan, I appreciate the directness. The truth is that this is not entirely my initiative. There are orders from above. My own preference would have been to let the cooperation between our organizations develop at its natural pace, and let the relationship build into something solid over time." He set the bottle down. "But this war has alarmed people. S.P.E.A.R. has come out of it with more authority and more resources than before. That also means more responsibility, and the people above me are thinking about what happens if something like this occurs again without your team immediately available."
He met Nolan's eyes.
"I have been asked to request carapace armor manufacturing technology."
Nolan was quiet for a moment. Then he refilled Niwa's glass and his own.
"If you had asked for power armor manufacturing technology, I would have refused you immediately. Not out of unwillingness, but because the current technical infrastructure on Earth cannot support the production pipeline. Giving you the blueprints would not give you the armor."
He looked at Niwa steadily.
"Carapace armor manufacturing technology, I can provide. I will include the manufacturing technology for a low-end laser weapon alongside it."
Zheng stared at him.
The stare continued for long enough that it moved past surprise and into something that was working to reassemble its understanding of the conversation it was in.
"Brother Nolan." His voice came out carefully. "Are you genuinely uncertain of the value of what you are offering, or do you simply not care about it?"
Nolan said nothing, which Zheng took as permission to continue.
"The carapace material alone. The metal compounds involved in that armor grade can be applied across an enormous range of engineering and defensive applications. Our researchers have looked at samples from your organization's equipment and spent considerable time discussing how much of what they currently build in armor and protective systems could be replaced or improved by access to that material. Using it exclusively for personal body armor is, from their perspective, an almost extravagant application of something with far broader potential."
He leaned forward slightly.
"And a functional low-end laser weapon manufacturing process. We have had prototypes and partial solutions for years. Low production volume, unresolved engineering problems that have kept it out of any scaled application. If those problems are solved in what you are offering, that alone is something several governments on this planet would bid significantly to obtain."
Nolan shook his head.
"I understand the value. That is why I am offering it." He let Zheng sit with that for a moment before continuing. " S.P.E.A.R. and the networks behind it contributed meaningfully to this operation. Without your presence and your credibility with the local official structures, the conflicts with regional authorities would have been unavoidable. We would have won those conflicts, but winning them would have cost time, and time in a Chaos operation always costs more than it appears to. That contribution has weight."
He set his glass down.
"Beyond that: the world is changing. This is not the Guardians of Terra's Earth, and it is not mine. It belongs to every human being living on it. I can respond to threats like this one, and I will. But I am one force, and I can be engaged elsewhere. I can be outnumbered. I cannot be in every location where something like Uttar Pradesh might begin. If something similar happens when I am committed to another battlefield, who responds?"
Zheng was listening without interrupting now.
"The answer cannot be that everyone waits for me. You need the capability to respond to things I cannot reach. That means better equipment, better trained agents, better tools. Giving you the technology serves that purpose. And before you tell me that you already know this, yes, I am aware that this is also one of the reasons your superiors sent you."
The corner of Zheng's mouth moved.
"You are not wrong," he said. "About any of it." He straightened in his chair and extended his hand across the table. "Then I will make the commitment plainly: if you face a situation of similar scale or worse, S.P.E.A.R. and the authority behind it will stand on your side. There will be calculations between us, there will be things neither of us says out loud, but the core of it is the same. The safety of this region and this planet."
Nolan looked at the hand for a moment, then reached across and took it.
The grip between a vibranium-plated palm and a human hand settled into a firm clasp and held.
Not long after, Raditus arrived on its anti-gravity drive, the servo skull's eye sockets already active with the particular kind of attention that meant it had an agenda. Nolan leaned back and watched as Niwa and Raditus began what could only be described as a technical negotiation conducted at the speed of two parties who both knew exactly what they wanted and were primarily arguing about the terms by which they would acknowledge they had agreed.
Carapace armor manufacturing technology and the Hydra energy weapon production process, exchanged for the standing covert support of a major industrial nation and the organizational weight of Divine S.P.E.A.R. in future operations.
Nolan watched Raditus counter-offer on a secondary data packet and Niwa push back with something about exclusivity windows, and allowed himself a brief moment of quiet satisfaction.
This was not a loss by any measure he could apply.
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