Chapter 319: Departure, Part 2
Early the next morning, a Devourer-class transport touched down outside the Second Hive City to collect Nor'n for departure.
The Second Hive City rather than the first was a deliberate choice — if he'd tried to leave from Hive Tenebris, the entire upper-hive aristocracy would have turned out to form a human wall around the shuttle. The Second Hive City was obscure enough to allow a quiet exit.
The shuttle settled and its cargo ramp descended. The Captain walked out, bowed formally to Nor'n, and directed his crew to start loading the equipment.
Four months of uninterrupted forging had produced a remarkable quantity of work.
Ten thunder hammer heads — the force-field generators weren't installed, but the shells were forged and ready. Back at the Chapter, a tech-marine could fit the disintegration field emitters and have them operational within a day.
Fifty chest plates and helmets, each with adamantium worked into the composite. Defence rating up at least thirty percent across the board. Modular design — the Chapter's armourers could fit them to individual battle-brothers without any custom work. Drop them in, buckle up, done.
The remaining adamantium Nor'n took with him. Back at the forge, there was enough left for another hundred composite plates and helmets, or the skeleton frames for one or two suits of Terminator armour.
Nor'n watched his crew stow each piece carefully and didn't look away until the last item was secured. Then he turned and faced Kian, who was standing there with the expression of a man at an airport watching someone disappear through the gate.
"Count. This is where we part ways. My mission — to fight for the Emperor and for humanity — does not end until I do.
These four months have been an indulgence I should not have allowed. I have to return to my Chapter. My battle-brothers are fighting without me and I intend to fix that."
Kian was genuinely reluctant to let him go. Four months of Nor'n had produced ten suits of Heavy Reactive Power Armour, each one adamantium-reinforced, each one sitting somewhere between standard tactical dreadnought armour and true Terminator plate in terms of protection — better than anything he could have sourced or purchased. Losing the man who'd made them felt like losing the factory itself.
He held up a metal case and let it dangle meaningfully.
"Nor'n. Do you know what's in here?
I don't exaggerate. Whatever is in this box, if it's used well, will do more for your Chapter than one Astartes could. Even you.
Stay. Stay here with me.
Say yes, and I'll have the Captain deliver this entire case directly to your Chapter's fleet. You have my word."
Nor'n looked at the case. He didn't know what was inside, but he believed the claim — he'd spent four months watching this man, reading his history, hearing the accounts. Someone who could solo a Howling Banshee and clear an Ork hulk alone didn't operate without advantages that weren't obvious from the outside.
But he was an Astartes. The Emperor's blade, made for killing, made for war.
The battlefield was his home. Dying in battle was his proper end. Anything that pulled him away from that — comfort, attachment, a comfortable posting on a safe world — was a distraction. A temptation. A cage with good food and clean water that was still, ultimately, a cage.
He said nothing. In his silence was his answer.
Kian sighed, stepped forward, and pressed the case directly against Nor'n's armoured chest.
"Take it. Call it hazard pay for four months of black-market smithing.
Read the instructions — I've documented everything inside, what it does, how to use it. Don't be precious about it, Nor'n. Actually use it.
And don't let any more Orks weld you into a throne. There won't be another Count Voss coming to dig you out next time."
Nor'n took the case without ceremony. A smile appeared on his face — genuine, if brief.
"Thank you, Count."
The Captain laughed, breaking the moment.
"My lords, no need for all this tragedy — the Forge World is a year's travel away under standard drive, less if we push it."
He slung an arm around Kian's shoulders. "And you're a man who intends to own a ship someday. Maybe the next time we meet, you'll be pulling up alongside us in orbit."
Kian put him in a headlock and applied a knuckle to the top of his skull.
"You absolute traitor. We had an agreement. You were going to sneak off without him and I was going to claim it was a scheduling error. What happened?"
The Captain winced.
"I got drunk. Talked too much. Somehow it got back to the Angel. And you don't lie to an Angel, do you? Not if you'd like to avoid being lit on fire. What was I supposed to do?"
"You absolute—"
Kian raised his fist, cocked it back. The Captain braced, sucked in his stomach.
The punch became a slap on the shoulder.
Kian produced a wine case from somewhere — four bottles of Sanctified Spirits — and shoved it at him.
"Drink yourself to death, you useless man. You've always been heading that way."
The goodbye was done. Kian stepped back. The shuttle's engines began their warmup cycle, a rising whine of atmospheric thrusters. The cargo ramp started its slow upward swing.
Nor'n and the Captain stood at the closing ramp, watching Kian on the ground below, the gap between them narrowing as the ramp rose.
Kian, from the distance, suddenly couldn't stop himself.
"Are we going to see each other again, Nor'n?! When we do — be happy, alright?! Be happy!"
Nor'n felt a full-body cringe travel through his every augmented nerve.
"BE HAPPY, NOR'N! BE AT PEACE!"
"Go! GO!" Nor'n turned on the Captain. "Full power, now, immediately—"
The ramp retracted faster. The engines surged. The shuttle lifted.
Kian, unable to contain himself, broke into a run.
"NORRRN! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE WITHOUT YOU?! NORRRN—"
"OH COME ON—"
Nor'n sprinted for the cockpit, physically pulled the pilot out of his seat, dropped into it himself, grabbed the throttle, and shoved it to the stops.
The shuttle left the ground like a bottle rocket.
In under three seconds it was a point of light.
In five, it was gone.
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