Chapter 12
"State your name, whelp."
"Reporting, Instructor — Gan!"
On the training grounds, a Thunder Warrior bellowed at a squad of newly inducted Astartes.
"Tell me, Gan — why did you join the army?"
"To obey the Emperor's command!"
The Thunder Warrior froze for a heartbeat.
"Outstanding. The most perfect answer I have ever heard. Private Gan, you are a genius. Your cognitive index must exceed two hundred and sixty."
Scenes like this were unfolding across the Imperium.
Thunder Warriors trained the Astartes with ferocious enthusiasm.
The Astartes endured.
Yuki watched it all unfold.
This, in truth, was her scheme.
A scheme directed at the Emperor.
She feared the eventual purge of the Thunder Warriors. If history followed its original course, they would be discarded once their usefulness ended. So she intended to erase the divide between Thunder Warriors and Astartes before that future could take shape.
By fighting, training, and suffering together, the Thunder Warriors would no longer fear abandonment.
And if the Emperor ever moved against them, he would be forced to consider the sentiments of the Astartes they had mentored.
Yuki knew the Emperor was far too perceptive to miss her intentions.
He said nothing.
His silence conveyed the terms:
If she could resolve the Thunder Warriors' genetic degeneration within the allotted time, history might change.
If not… necessity would prevail.
The burden weighed heavily.
During this period, Yuki visited the palace frequently — not to see the Emperor or Malcador, but someone far more important.
"Mom, I'm here."
Lady Amar Astarte — the Imperium's foremost geneticist — had been instrumental in both the Thunder Warrior program and the Primarch Project. In recognition of her achievements, the Emperor had named the gene-legions created from the Primarch templates Astartes.
In a sense, she was their foster mother.
Calling her "Mom" was not unreasonable.
When Yuki expressed her desire to save the Thunder Warriors, the Emperor immediately directed her to Amar Astarte. The scientist loved her creations deeply and had long sought a means to stabilize them. Yuki's apprenticeship was therefore not merely logical — it was welcome.
"My child," Astarte said warmly, offering a small container. "I brought sweets. Take some with you."
"Thank you, Mom."
In the laboratory, she was a demanding and exacting instructor.
Outside it, she was gentle, attentive, and kind.
She loved Yuki sincerely.
She knew she was only human — unworthy, perhaps, of being called mother to demigods. She had wished only to see her creations live and grow.
Instead, they had been scattered across the galaxy.
Then a miracle occurred.
A child never meant to live had awakened with a soul.
And now that child laughed, learned, and called her "Mother."
So when Yuki asked to study genetics, Amar Astarte taught with fierce devotion, as if trying to gift her entire lifetime of knowledge.
"Project Nine failed," Yuki reported. "Rejection cascade exceeded tolerance thresholds."
Astarte looked up, pride evident in her eyes. In mere days, Yuki had evolved from student to collaborator.
"Do not be discouraged. The data confirms we are moving in the correct direction. We adjust and proceed."
A knock sounded.
Yuki opened the door. Malcador stood outside.
"Your Highness, the Emperor requires your assistance."
"My father?" Yuki turned to speak to Astarte — only to find her already standing behind her.
"Let us go," Astarte said with a smile.
Malcador's expression suggested this outcome had been anticipated.
Imperial Government Hall
Yuki pushed open the door.
"What's the matter, Father?"
"Prepare to accompany me to Albia," the Emperor replied. "We will meet their monarch."
"Wasn't he supposed to meet you? Why am I involved?"
"Are you coming or not?"
Yuki considered.
"…Are you arranging a political marriage?"
Malcador stiffened.
Behind him, Amar Astarte's gaze turned lethal.
The Emperor's temple pulsed.
"I am instructing you in diplomacy," he said evenly. "What occupies your thoughts?"
"You should have said so earlier! Do I need to prepare?"
"No. Civilian attire."
Albia
The meeting proceeded with remarkable ease.
The King of Albia admired the Emperor's willingness to arrive without ceremony or guard.
(Yuki: As if ten thousand guards would make a difference.)
During their conversation, the king became convinced the Emperor was not merely another warlord, but a statesman concerned with humanity's survival and future.
He pledged allegiance.
Return Journey
"What did you learn?" the Emperor asked.
"Father," Yuki replied, "remove your psychic charisma field and try again."
Silence.
Throughout the negotiation, she had observed no diplomatic maneuvering whatsoever.
The Emperor simply… spoke.
His presence inspired confidence.
Trust.
Loyalty.
How was she supposed to replicate that?
"…Go away," he muttered.
"Okay, bye-bye, Dad."
Eastern Front Command
Back at the eastern command camp, Yuki resumed operations.
"Still no intelligence from the Pan-Pacific Directorate?"
"No, Your Highness. Their internal security is extremely tight."
She sighed.
A direct assault without intelligence could prove catastrophic.
"Your Highness!" a Thunder Warrior rushed in. "A transmission has arrived."
"From whom?"
"…Nathan Doom. He requests a meeting."
Yuki paused.
They had not initiated contact.
Why approach her instead of the Emperor?
Her fingers tapped the table.
"Reply. Inform him I will come."
"You cannot go!" Ilygos protested. "It is an obvious trap!"
"Ilygos," Yuki said calmly, "do we possess any alternative means of acquiring intelligence?"
"…No, Your Highness."
"Then we accept. If Lord Doom has extended such a courteous invitation, we should not refuse."
Silence.
"…We're really going?" he asked.
"We're going."