V3 Chapter 16: I Would Suggest We Get Them All Primaris-Converted
Duvette stepped out of the Ultramarines' temporary command post and finally let out a long breath.
At least they had secured another opportunity to speak, and this time Tigurius was willing to help. The Chief Librarian's standing was substantial enough that once he spoke, Calgar would maintain his vigilance but was unlikely to simply close the door the way he had before.
But Duvette understood clearly that he could not put all of his weight on Tigurius.
Calgar was the Lord of Ultramar and the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines. Even with Tigurius willing to bear witness, he might still refuse to allow an Aeldari anywhere near Guilliman's stasis sanctuary.
Duvette looked up for a moment at the Tarentus capital still smoldering in the distance.
If Calgar continued to refuse, he would need a contingency. As long as Guilliman could be revived, every risk they had taken before would have a justification. But he needed that outcome first.
Cawl produced a mechanical sound beside him, several mechadendrites shifting with the motion of his thinking.
"I need to return to the Ark Mechanicus," Cawl said. "This engagement left a substantial volume of data worth analysing. I have no intention of continuing to spend time in the Ultramarines' camp."
Duvette had just begun to nod when something surfaced in his thinking.
"Wait, Cawl."
Cawl turned one mechaoptic lens toward him. "What requirement are you preparing to raise this time?"
"In a sense, one. In another sense, not entirely." Duvette said. "Come with me for a moment. Somewhere without listeners."
Cawl paused for several seconds, as though calculating the probable complications embedded in the request.
"In my experience, every time you have said something along those lines, my research schedule has been forced to accommodate additional variables."
"Which means you have adapted to it."
Duvette did not wait for a response. He walked toward an area well away from the command post. Cawl followed in the end, his vast mechanical frame pressing small stones into the rubble with each step.
They stopped behind the wreckage of several abandoned armoured vehicles.
Duvette confirmed no Ultramarines were near and no other personnel were within range, then dropped his voice.
"Markus and his people are in a bad way."
Cawl's mechaoptic lenses shifted slightly. "The thirteen Shadow Wolves?"
"Yes." Duvette said. "They survived the fighting, but every one of them is close to dying. The Ultramarines Apothecary has stabilised their condition, but that is only temporary."
Cawl listened without responding.
Duvette continued. "By conventional means, the best outcome available to them is interment in a Dreadnought. For Astartes, that is genuinely a form of honour, even if they personally might not see it that way."
He paused and looked at Cawl.
"But I know there is a method that could let them survive. And more than survive."
Cawl did not answer immediately.
A silence extended between them. The only sound coming through was the distant movement of engineering vehicles.
"You want me to perform Primaris conversion surgery on them," Cawl said at last.
"It seems I don't need to explain much."
"You certainly do not," Cawl said, his voice even. "Because your request is already direct and dangerous enough on its own."
Duvette did not pay attention to the warning in the phrasing. "Your Primaris conversion surgery has clearly been perfected. You would not have hundreds of thousands of Primaris Astartes quietly distributed across corners of the galaxy otherwise."
This time, Cawl's mechanical limbs paused with visible distinctness.
"I do not recall ever disclosing that." Cawl's tone carried something that was, for him, unusually close to irritation. "Is this also something you saw through the Warp? Emperor's Throne, how much do you actually know about what I have been doing?"
Duvette shrugged. "Roughly."
"'Roughly' does not provide adequate informational precision."
"Sometimes a degree of vagueness benefits everyone."
Cawl's mechaoptic lenses rested on him. Honestly, there were times when he genuinely wanted to take Duvette apart and examine the components to confirm whether what was inside could be classified as human.
Duvette did not give him the opportunity to press further.
"I know what you are planning to do," he said. "The moment Guilliman wakes, you will bring the Primaris Astartes and the conversion surgery forward in front of the Imperium. Since that is coming regardless, why not begin now, with Markus and the others?"
"Because the risk is considerable," Cawl said. "Primaris conversion is not simple organ repair and treatment. Surgical mortality can be extremely high."
"But you are Cawl."
"That is a fact, not a justification."
"It is absolutely a justification." Duvette looked at him. "If those words came from the mouth of any other Magos, I might accept them at face value. But if the very creator of the Primaris process has no confidence in it, then perhaps it really is their fate."
Cawl went silent again.
Duvette understood he had said everything that could be said. What remained was whether Cawl was willing to take on the complication.
Markus and the twelve Shadow Wolves mattered to him.
They came from the era of the Great Crusade. They had seen the Imperium before it became what it was now. They had carried the shadow of the Sons of Horus for ten thousand years and still chosen to fight for the Emperor again.
Duvette was not willing to watch them find a new path only to return to the Golden Throne at the end of it.
After a moment, Cawl spoke.
"I can attempt it."
Duvette allowed himself a brief smile. "So you have agreed after all."
"This is a qualified agreement," Cawl said. "I will perform Primaris conversion surgery on Markus and the twelve Shadow Wolves. Survival rates cannot be guaranteed. Post-operative stability will require ongoing monitoring."
"That is enough."
"For you, 'enough' has always covered a very broad range," Cawl said. "So I must state clearly in advance: I will not commit to any particular outcome for their survival."
"Understood." Duvette gave a nod. "All I am asking is that they have a chance."
He had just reached that point when something else occurred to him.
"Speaking of which, their Mark Ten power armour and associated equipment—"
"Yes, yes, I know," Cawl interrupted, and for the first time his voice carried a clearly audible impatience. "You insufferable man."
Duvette said immediately: "They can hardly walk off the surgical platform in damaged old armour."
"Assuming they walk off the surgical platform at all."
"I trust your capabilities."
"You trust only that I still have uses."
"Is there a meaningful difference?"
Cawl did not answer. He turned and walked toward the Ark Mechanicus. Several mechadendrites extended behind him and then retracted quickly, as though expressing their own opinion of the conversation.
Duvette called after him: "I will notify the Ultramarines immediately and have them transfer Markus and the others to your Ark."
"Move quickly," Cawl said without looking back. "Every stage of decline in a living subject's condition increases surgical complexity."
"Understood."
Cawl's shape disappeared behind a column of Skitarii.
Duvette stood where he was, and the weight in his chest eased by a fraction.
Tigurius was willing to help them re-open the conversation with Calgar. Markus and the others now had a chance to live. Neither outcome was settled yet, but at least neither was a completely closed door anymore.
He called over a 112th vox-operator and told the man to immediately contact the Ultramarines Apothecary and arrange the transfer of all thirteen Shadow Wolves to the Ark Mechanicus.
The operator saluted and moved quickly.
Duvette turned and looked down the other road.
He still remembered clearly which direction Yvraine and Sylandri had gone.
He began walking, turning over in his mind what reason he could offer for opening the conversation.
Asking directly for swordsmanship instruction sounded frankly absurd. The physical differences between a human and an Aeldari were considerable: reaction speed, muscle structure, sensory processing, almost nothing was equivalent.
And Yvraine specifically had reached a level of achievement in the warrior's path that could fairly be called the highest attainable. Whether he could actually learn from her was genuinely uncertain.
Though with his skills to compensate, it was perhaps not entirely impossible.
The deeper problem was that asking a proud Aeldari to teach swordsmanship to a human Commissar sounded like it might be harder to negotiate than convincing Calgar.
He looked toward the security line in the distance and exhaled, then kept walking.
At any rate, he had already gone to Cawl today and extracted a full Primaris conversion surgery from the man. Going to Yvraine and asking for a few words of instruction on blade technique seemed comparatively minor.
And if she refused—well, then she should not blame him if in the future he used the matter of the remaining Crone Swords as a small point of leverage.
He kept walking.