"I place no value on the compliments of someone like you," the captain declared, his gaze fixed on the imposing silhouette.
The remark was poorly received by Atreus's subordinates, but he raised his hand to stop them in their haste.
Punishing an insolent mortal is logical.
However, the mortal before them is an important resource at their disposal.
Even if a tiger owner is injured by his pet, he will never discard it.
It was this cold logic that led Atreus to be more tolerant.
"Captain Borislav, I will ignore your contempt," he spoke in his voice distorted by his helmet.
He stepped forward slowly.
The metallic floor of the spacecraft creaked under the weight of the Astartes, but he paid it no mind.
He leaned toward the courageous mortal before him.
At first, he intended to offer him a few "kind" words of advice to enlighten his mind.
Except his eyes were drawn to a familiar object from his previous world; thus, he reached out to retrieve it.
"N-no, don't touch—" the middle-aged man tried to protest, pushing back against the massive hand of the Astartes.
slap
His attempt to stop Atreus from invading his personal space ended in complete failure.
He was even thrown to the ground without ceremony after the traitor struck him with a brutally violent backhand.
The gesture was very light from the Space Marine's point of view, but the force caused the captain to lose teeth and tore his lower lip open.
It was clear a medic would need to stitch the wound.
"Interesting…" Atreus murmured as he observed the delicate medallion hanging from the necklace.
Surprisingly, this familiar object contained the image of a woman with a serene smile.
An expression of almost unreal gentleness, embodying a peace of heart that Atreus had no longer witnessed in this inhospitable galaxy.
Without realizing it, that face awakened in him the memory of another person tied to Olympia.
The homeworld of the Iron Warriors Legion.
"Forget that. Keep only memories of war, and those of the Great Crusade," he told himself internally, relegating the shadow of a proud "mother" into the cold darkness of Iron Warriors logic.
He let out a sigh, then lowered his gaze toward the captain lying on the ground.
Under normal circumstances, Atreus would have simply thrown away this worthless trinket and resumed his interrogation.
However, the expression of horror etched on the captain's face awakened in him an intuition about the importance of the woman depicted in the medallion to the man's heart.
Perhaps that importance even surpassed his duty to the Emperor.
"A loved one? Perhaps his sister, or even his fiancée," he analyzed as he opened his mouth to probe.
"Is this your wife?" he asked while observing the reaction on the man's face.
The crimson light from his helmet was intimidating for Borislav, but he forced himself to answer the superhuman.
"Y-yes, she is," he said painfully, ignoring the taste of iron.
Atreus simply nodded, then stepped slightly away.
"Then it would be unfortunate if you could no longer see her because of a disagreeable attitude, nor cause potential misfortune within her family circle," he declared without giving a second glance to the man on the ground.
The message was clear and brief for old Borislav: cooperate, or death and torture will be the least of your worries.
"I-I will obey, lord," he said painfully.
"Bastard!!!" a security member insulted.
"You're betraying the Emperor!!!" another roared at him.
"Traitor!!" the head of security cursed.
Despite all the insults, Borislav's eyes remained fixed on the necklace held by the Space Marine.
He was neither a coward nor a traitor.
The man preferred death over those two labels. However, he could not bring himself to harm his beloved.
Thus, his will had a flaw.
"Forgive me, but Athena is more important," Borislav apologized toward his subordinates.
He received no empathy from them, only judgmental stares.
"Why are you staring at these idiots? You'd better move your ass, you have to follow our ship toward the Rogue Trader," Scar ordered as he noticed the crew's inactivity.
Unlike Atreus, he showed no understanding toward the poor man.
Scar and Grey immediately carried out the plan.
The spacecraft matched the frigate's speed to head smoothly toward the Rogue Trader.
…
The Gothic-class cruiser: the Star Guardian.
Three Astartes wearing standard power armor walked with firm steps, while a hundred Servitors followed closely behind them.
If a third-party observer saw the scene, they would notice that the servitors were pushing fifty iron crates resembling coffins.
From time to time, one could clearly hear groans of pain coming from the massive metal coffins.
"I never thought I'd enslave others in my next life," he thought while glancing over his shoulder.
The metal coffins contained "special" slaves, which Atreus had taken care to contain for future transactions.
As for their identity: one name—psykers.
When humanity reached its peak, this sub-branch of human beings began to manifest more and more within its population.
These beings possessing extraordinary powers were welcomed by many scholars as a natural evolution of humanity.
However, others saw them as something to be monitored.
The nature of psyker power was "questionable" to these people, because the unknown has always been a source of fear for humanity.
In the end, time proved them right.
Humanity fell from its peak due to dependence on AI and STCs, but also due to the loss of contact with other civilizations following the birth of the god Slaanesh.
This birth also caused the awakening of several Warp rifts that psykers triggered.
A large uncontrolled Warp rift means the birth of a daemon world, and a fate worse than death for its inhabitants.
Atreus does not appreciate psykers for this, but he cannot evolve in this galaxy without them.
They are too valuable.
"Even if they are part of the reasons behind humanity's fall, I must try to manage them in the image of the Emperor," he thought internally as he recalled Magnus.
The Emperor understood the necessity of psychic arts for the evolution of the human race, but his son Magnus was too hasty in studying the Warp.
This hunger for knowledge was something he shared with the Emperor, but the latter had enough wisdom to take his time.
Magnus unfortunately lacked that quality.
Patience and caution are necessary qualities when evolving in a galaxy that contains a being such as the Chaos god Tzeentch.
"Welcome, honorable Astartes," declared an elegant man while bowing gracefully toward Atreus.
The Space Marine returned the gesture of politeness with a controlled nod. As weapons of war, few Space Marine legions received education in etiquette.
Something useless for "tools" meant for the battlefield.
The only exceptions are the sons of Guilliman, Lorgar, Magnus, Fulgrim, and Sanguinius.
"Sometimes, I wish I had been reincarnated as an Emperor's Children," he thought while following the Rogue Trader's representative through the ship.
The size of a Gothic-class vessel is immense. From his memories of Earth and his experience as a veteran, this type of ship can easily reach 6 kilometers in length and 1 kilometer in width.
It is not uncommon to have factories inside such a steel monster floating in space.
Thus, it took some time for the group to reach the reception hall where the Rogue Trader was waiting.
"Uhm… my lord, you cannot enter with that," said the gentleman-dressed man in front of the massive metal door.
The moment he pointed at the bolter, the atmosphere immediately turned cold.
"Tss… I already knew a Rogue Trader wouldn't appreciate meeting a fully equipped Astartes, but he really dared try to disarm him?" Atreus asked in a rhetorical tone.
He wasn't particularly addressing the representative, but the man behind the door.
Atreus didn't know why, but he felt tested.
He didn't like that.
"W-wait, w-we can— bam" The elegant man did not finish his words, interrupted by a bolter shot that echoed through the ship's corridor.