36: Chapter 36 The Queen drew an Imperial tactical hand signal on the creep: Negotiation

Sebastian’s Power Sword was still in his hand, the eerie blue light on the blade flickering in the purple shimmer of the creep. His Terminator veterans formed a semi-circular defensive line behind him, their Storm Bolters' ammunition belts already switched to the final crate. On the ground lay the corpses of six Ultralisks and countless Zergling remains; the creep was silently devouring those shattered carapaces, decomposing them into nutrient slurry and sending it back underground through the mycelial network.

Deep within the temple, the Brood Queen did not launch the next wave of attacks. She stood directly beneath the massive head of the Hive Lord, the lattice structure on her grey-purple carapace slowly dimming its light. The passage behind her had been resealed by mycelium, leaving only a few extremely thin streaks of cold green light flowing across its surface. Sebastian stared into her eyes, and those orange eyes stared back at him. It wasn't the gaze of a hunter assessing prey, but something akin to scrutiny that he couldn't quite place for the moment. His finger rested on the Power Sword's trigger, but he did not press it.

"What is it waiting for?" a Terminator veteran asked in a low voice. Sebastian shook his head and said nothing.

The Brood Queen moved. She slowly crawled out from under the blackstone engine's base, each step on the creep making no sound. At the base of her left forelimb remained the deep gash Sebastian had carved with his Power Sword; a layer of translucent chitinous gel had already secreted from the wound's edges and was slowly hardening. She did not recall the Zerglings still surrounding them, nor did she summon more Ultralisks. She simply stopped five meters in front of Sebastian, the tips of her forelimbs carving several jagged marks into the creep. A Terminator instinctively raised his Storm Bolter to aim, but Sebastian pressed down on the barrel.

It was Imperial tactical hand signals. The Brood Queen had drawn a symbol on the creep.

—Negotiation.

Sebastian stared at the crooked but perfectly recognizable symbol, remaining silent for a moment. "What do you want to discuss?" he said.

The Brood Queen's forelimbs continued to move. —Retreat. You trade negotiation for retreat. The Overmind will not attack; you leave with the wounded.

Then she paused and drew two more symbols behind it.

—The condition is: call Marcus down.

After reading the last line, Sebastian spoke directly. "Impossible. You used a similar tactic when you set the trap for Ortron—first cornering the Ultramarines underground to beat them to death, then making him think there was a chance to save people. Now that the tables have turned, you're trying it again? I won't call the Inquisitor into Swarm territory." The Brood Queen did not argue; she simply used her forelimb to add a line of text next to the negotiation mark.

—If you refuse, the next target of attack will be the Wrath of the Emperor. The Hive Lord has completed the calibration of the main gun. Last time it hit the bow; this time it will hit the engines. He fell silent. Then, he slowly lowered his Power Sword toward the ground and spoke on the open channel. "Marcus. The Brood Queen is negotiating with me."

There was a period of silence on the communication channel. Then Marcus's voice sounded, raspy and steady. "I'm listening."

The entire process was relayed to the bridge through Sebastian's narration. Marcus looked down at his right arm hanging by his side, which had not yet regained sensation, and then at the Hive Lord in the tactical projection, which was aimed directly at the Wrath of the Emperor. He had experienced countless xenos negotiations in his life—most were traps, and the rest were even deeper traps. "She's forcing me down, wanting to use me as a hostage in exchange for Sebastian leaving the surface alive. If I refuse, the remaining main force of the Ultramarines' 7th Company will be swatted to death in the temple by the Hive Lord's cannon." He relayed these deductions at a rapid pace and then began to confirm the feasibility.

"Has she allowed the communication to remain open?"

"She hasn't said no. I judge that she is waiting for you to answer in person."

"Our orbital firepower is still insufficient to penetrate its blackstone armor, and the Void Shields are still cooling. Furthermore—if we stop now and withdraw from low orbit, the pride of macragge can pick up everyone you brought down," the Tech-Officer added quickly. "Meanwhile, two Gothic-class Battle Barges of the Ultramarines' 7th Expeditionary Fleet and a Cruiser Squadron from the Third Assault Fleet have completed deployment and can provide sufficient cover on the retreat route."

Marcus asked no more. He turned to the communication channel. "Ortron, prepare a Thunderhawk for me." Then he said one last thing to Sebastian's channel. "Tell her. Inquisitor Marcus Aurelian—is coming down."

The Thunderhawk Gunship descended into the gap in the Forge Temple's dome under the cross-protection of dozens of point-defense batteries. Marcus Aurelian carried no power weapons as he stepped out of the hatch; his right arm still hung by his side, and his left hand held a handheld communicator. His boots made a slight corrosive sound as they stepped on the creep, a thin wisp of white smoke rising from the ceramite soles in the digestive fluids. He walked toward the Brood Queen, his pace not fast, but each step firm. The Brood Queen watched him, saying nothing.

Marcus stopped in front of the Brood Queen and placed the communicator on the creep. "You want a hostage, I'm down. Sebastian leaves with his men." The Brood Queen looked down at the communicator, then at Marcus.

—You are heavier than him. You exchange yourself for the retreat of all Ultramarines. Your status is far higher than any Thunderhawk or Terminator on the battlefield.

She paused. Then her forelimbs continued to carve into the creep.

—Accepted. Everyone retreats. You stay. The Swarm will stop attacking the orbital fleet outside the engagement zone according to the agreement.

Sebastian took half a step forward from the flank. "Marcus—"

"Go." Marcus didn't look back, his eyes fixed on the Brood Queen. "Command of the Wrath of the Emperor is transferred to Oldenburg for now. If the negotiations here fail—don't send anyone else down to die. Send the coordinates of the blackstone engine to Ultramarines headquarters and request a Relic-class weapon to level the temple directly. That is an order."

Sebastian's jaw clenched for two seconds. Then he sheathed his sword and made a gesture. The Terminators helped up the wounded, carried the Gene-seeds of the fallen, and began to retreat in an orderly fashion toward the Thunderhawk Gunship's landing site. The Zergling swarm pulled back to both sides under the Brood Queen's silent command, yielding a narrow path just wide enough for the Terminators to pass in single file. The Hive Lord did not retract its bone-blade arrays, but the charging light patterns on the main gun gradually faded from the muzzle, settling into a dim glow akin to a standby state.

Marcus stood opposite the Brood Queen, waiting until the tail flame of the last Thunderhawk Gunship disappeared above the atmosphere before speaking. "You brought me down here, not for a hostage. You want to ask me something."

The Brood Queen's forelimbs continued to carve on the creep. Marcus looked down as the symbols emerged one by one.

—How much intelligence do you have on The Swarm.

"Enough for Terra to consider Exterminatus," Marcus said calmly. "But not enough for them to truly win. You can tell your Overmind that straight."

A man and a Brood Queen, separated by a layer of creep, completed a Q&A session using a series of tactical symbols. At the end of the questioning, Marcus remained silent for a long time. Then the Brood Queen drew the final symbol. Marcus looked down, the red light of the two bionic eyes in his sockets flickering slightly in the dim light.

—The Emperor, what is it.

"The Emperor," Marcus began, his voice raspy, "is the Lord of Mankind." He paused for a long time, then slowly braced his uninjured left arm against the creep to stand tall again. "But our Lord does not turn his own kind into xenos that know only how to devour. Yours is evolution. Ours is sacrifice. That is the difference between us and you." There was no expression on his face, and his voice held a layer of faint weariness that even he himself hadn't realized. "I can tell you anything, but I cannot tell you that."

The Brood Queen did not respond to him; she simply turned and crawled toward the blackstone engine. The Zergling swarm still guarded the perimeter of the temple, neither attacking nor making way. The Hive Lord's umbilical cord contracted once on the blackstone engine's base, emitting a dull, low-frequency thud like the snapping of a cello string.