40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 100 3. A short meeting

The meeting hall of the Ultramarines is an interesting place - or so it is, limited to the meeting hall aboard the Macragge's Glory. It has four entrances, divided into four discussion areas from front to back.

The tapestry woven by the outstanding warbands is blowing in the wind on the wall. The thick tapestry carries a heavy history and everything that happened here. Every debate, every vote, happens under their gaze.

Of course, you can also use this as a basis to imagine how noisy this meeting of the Ultramarines is.

However, for Khalil, he is actually used to it.

A month and a half of sailing is like this every day except for the first day. You have to get used to it even if you are not used to it.

He nodded to the victorious troops at the door, saying hello, and then followed Guilliman into the conference hall. The Ultramarines noticed their arrival, but did not stop discussing.

On the Macragge's Glory, meetings have always been brought forward, and will never be terminated or ended early unless there is an emergency - in a sense, this is also the trend started by Robert Guilliman himself.

Guilliman didn't care about his heirs. Those who could enter the conference hall were all officers. Besides, this was just a routine meeting, so there was no need to perform too complicated operations.

He walked inside and came to a small cubicle that was not that big. Then he picked up three data tablets from the table and handed them to Khalil.

"That's all today?" Khalil raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Marius gave me a suggestion yesterday. He said that I should not add too much work to you in order to avoid 'unnecessary verbal attacks.'" Guilliman said expressionlessly. "I told him that this was your request, but he didn't believe it."

Khalil burst into laughter - who would believe it? A person who proactively asks to do the paperwork.

Moreover, from the perspective of the Ultramarines, they would probably think that this was a gesture from the instructors of the Eighth Legion to the Ultramarines.

Although they were really shocked at how quickly he processed the paperwork.

"I'll finish them tonight."

Khalil nodded, but didn't forget to complain - he wasn't really okay with it. "By the way, the empire's paperwork is surprisingly cumbersome. Each batch of material records must be confirmed individually. Has no one thought about reforming it?"

"The imperial bureaucracy is huge."

Guilliman sighed sadly, finding someone to talk to for the first time in this regard. He couldn't help but start pouring out his bitterness.

"If you use a Thinker with a built-in search function to search for the word 'processor', you will find hundreds of people with similar positions and similar powers in the empire's bureaucracy, but they can exist within one department. Dozens of handlers.”

"But they are not wasting their time, being tax thieves. In fact, these people are working diligently every day - what is their job? Processing paperwork, of course."

"So if we're going to keep this damn system going, we have to follow this rotten system. God knows how many times I've wanted to suggest reforms."

By the end, he even started to grit his teeth a little. Khalil looked at him and felt a pang of sympathy.

Roboute Guilliman was a very efficient man - for such a man, it would have been more uncomfortable for him to see these things with his own eyes than to give him a severe beating.

"Didn't you give your father advice?" he asked casually, looking down at the data pads.

"Of course I do!" Guilliman replied loudly, sitting on the sofa in the room.

"The results of it?"

"He asked me to implement it in the Extreme Star Territory first." Guilliman said quietly. "He didn't say why, but I can roughly guess why."

The Lord of Macragge sighed, took off his laurel crown, put it in front of his eyes and stared at it, his expression was one that was almost impossible to describe in detail.

"So, why?" Khalil asked softly.

"Because it is not important," Guilliman said, gazing seriously at the laurel wreath. "You may already know that our mission - the goal that everyone from the original body, the legion, and the auxiliary army, from top to bottom, hopes to achieve with one heart."

He paused for a moment. "The only goal."

"The Great Crusade," Khalil replied calmly. "I know."

"The vastness of the galaxy is almost despairing, Khalil." Guilliman said in a daze.

"I have seen a star map. There are many light spots obscured by darkness. It is hand-drawn and completed by a hundred painters. Starting from Terra and reaching the far end of the Milky Way. Darkness covers the stars. I see I looked at it for a long time. If my father’s bodyguard hadn’t reminded me, I probably wouldn’t have attended the dinner that day.”

"This star map is too huge for me. It even scares me because of its huge size. Because I began to realize that without subspace navigation, it would even take us hundreds of years to reach another galaxy. How terrible is this?"

"But, in the days when the Milky Way still belonged to humans, we had free access to the stars. We discovered them and then owned them. The Milky Way once belonged to us, Khalil."

He said, unable to help but smile. It was a smile that was difficult to define, somewhere between regret and yearning, but with a hint of childish and innocent dissatisfaction.

"That's why I'm willing to trap myself in endless paperwork." Guilliman chuckled. "That's why my brothers are willing to leave their homeland, holding weapons and stained with blood. We all understand what this means to mankind as a whole."

Smiling proudly, he put down his laurel crown and looked at his guest - but Khalil Lohars only returned his calm gaze.

"It's just a sacrifice." He replied softly. "So let's talk about the next planet to be reclaimed."

Guilliman raised his eyebrows: "You got the information before me? Who gave it to you?"

"Of course not. I just heard them discussing when I passed by the conference hall. If nothing happens, in another ten minutes, I am afraid that specific information and mature plans will be sent in."

"You really have a good grasp of the work efficiency of my heirs."

Khalil smiled softly, said nothing, and just continued to look down at the data pad. Guilliman belatedly realized how embarrassing his answer sounded.

It's finally over.