40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 623 Interlude: The Rational Front's Observations (I)

Pharmacist Cadmery, sweating profusely, held a pair of silver-white special surgical forceps and used it to pick up a piece of flesh hanging from a bone. The blazing white light from the inspection light temporarily installed on his right shoulder armor lit up and shone on a special injured person.

After a short period of observation and examination, Cadmeri realized that as an Astartes pharmacist, he was helpless against the mortal patient in front of him.

He has served in the Dark Angels for forty-six years, which doesn't seem like a long time, but he has never been away from the most intense wars of the Knights. He has ended the suffering of many brothers and rescued many people from the hands of death. In any way, he is a qualified pharmacist and an excellent one.

But now, he encountered difficulties. He found that the medical knowledge he had learned and practiced in the past was difficult to be effective on the person in front of him.

First of all, the first point is that this person did not bleed.

He had blood vessels, blood in them, his heart was still beating, his body was warm, and there was a horrible penetrating wound on his chest. The location and size of the wound determined one thing: he would definitely die within a dozen seconds.

But he didn't. He didn't even bleed.

Not only did he not do that, he was even able to lie calmly in the medical chair and chat with Lion El'Jonson, the Primarch of Cadmeri, who was standing next to him.

He was conscious and articulate, and remained calm even though a pair of surgical forceps were probing his flesh and blood. He was completely different from the mortal injured people Cadmery had encountered before.

Cadmeri took a deep breath and cleared his mind.

He had already decided that no matter what the reason for this strange situation was, he would treat this special patient according to the standard procedures for rescuing seriously injured patients.
He held the single-molecule scalpel in his hand, and the fillers, disinfectant spray, healing spray and sutures were sent to a small platform on the side by the medical arm.

Cadmery held the scalpel tightly, and made sure his fingers were steady, just like he was doing it for the first time, before he started to cut away some of the flesh that would hinder the suturing. However, things did not go as he expected.
With a slight crisp sound, the single-molecule scalpel broke.

The pharmacist froze, his mind racing but his body frozen for a few seconds, until his patient sat up, picked up a can of healing spray from the platform, and sprayed his wound with it.

Lion El'Jonson watched the scene expressionlessly, and a voice in his head was laughing wildly.

I told you he was just kidding, and now look what you've done, brother! One of your good sons won't be able to sleep tonight!
He didn't need to sleep, the knights of Caliban only meditate! The lion roared in his mind.

But in the real world, he spoke in a gentle tone: ".Cadmeri."

".Yes, Primarch?"

"Well done," said the Lion.

He raised his hand and patted the pharmacist's shoulder, turned around without saying a word, and led the people out of the medical room. Cadmery looked at them blankly as they left, and received an apologetic smile from the patient.

A few seconds after the door closed, he lowered his head to look at the scalpel in his hand. Some fragments were lying at his feet, shining faintly.

"Didn't you say you needed treatment?" Walking on the deck of the Edge of Reason, the Lion asked in a seemingly normal tone.

"And I was treated - at least examined, and the pharmacist apparently determined that I needed surgery." Khalil shrugged, the wound on his chest still very conspicuous. "So, I do need treatment, unless you think the pharmacist is unskilled."

The lion turned his head away and stopped talking, but after walking a dozen steps he suddenly spoke: "You have changed, Khalil."

"Appreciate further details."

The lion was silent for a moment, then spoke slowly: "Ruth said he wants to buy you a drink."

"That's fine with me," Khalil said with a smile. "But I think we'd better go back to Fenris to drink."

The lion took a deep breath, threw the spear in his hand to him, and strode forward. Leman Russ's laughter followed closely and rang in Khalil's ears. It was a kind of laughter from the heart.

"Look at his face, Khalil! The old lion won't be able to sleep tonight!"

"But isn't he a knight of Caliban?" Khalil asked back with some doubt. "They have always used meditation instead of sleep."

Ruth's laughter stopped abruptly.

After a few seconds, he said quietly, "Sometimes I really don't understand your sense of humor among Nostramo people. You, Conrad, and that bastard Yago Sevitarion. Where did you learn to speak this way?"

Khalil did not answer the question, but just smiled. Ten minutes later, they arrived at the tenth deck through the descending elevator.

The Lion arranged the offices of the mortal servants and some officials who were responsible for serving the chapter on the Edge of Reason here. Most of the officials came from within the solar system. The servants were different. They were either the failed candidates of the chapter or the descendants of the Calibans.

They wandered back and forth in a hall. Everyone, male or female, young or old, looked very healthy but also very busy. The slate weight method, which was the most respected in the empire, obviously caused great trouble to their work.

Even with the help of a wheelbarrow and other tools, the task did not become easy. More than one person frowned when looking at the stone slabs, but they did not complain, perhaps because they were used to it, or perhaps because of the arrival of the lion.

This event made them feel so excited and honored that everyone put down what they were doing and saluted the Lord of Caliban. Even when he passed by them, they still saluted silently.

However, it was different for Khalil. Most people ignored him, and the few who looked at him were very unfriendly, even full of jealousy.

Khalil was a little confused until Ruth told him why.

"These men are simple, but also rigid, Khalil. They see service to the Chapter and the Lions as a way to serve the Emperor equally, and they are fanatical, and you happen to be holding this spear."

"They're dying to do it for you, you know? Seriously, how about a bet? There are at least three hundred people here who are willing to carry the spear for you."

Khalil sighed silently, quickened his pace and caught up with the lion.

A few minutes later, they turned into a long corridor, which was not very spacious. If the lion was wearing armor, it would be impossible for him to walk in here.

The walls were made of granite and hung with many flags, but none of them were the flags of the Astartes Chapter, but the flags of the mortal legions. The Guards and the Navy, two systems that opposed and hated each other, now stayed together in harmony.

Khalil slowed down and began to identify them. There were not many flags he could recognize, such as the famous Cadian Shock Troopers, the Mordian Iron Guard, etc. However, most of the flags were ones he had never seen or even heard of.

The empire is vast, and how many people have fought and risked their lives under these flags? What sacrifices have they made and what glory have they achieved to be able to hang their flags here?

The lion stopped at the end of the corridor and knocked on the wooden door. A voice so cold that it almost didn't sound human came from behind the door. "Come in."

The lion turned around and smiled at Khalil, with an unusual look on his face. It was the look of a busybody, and it should have been on Ruth, not him.

Khalil raised his eyebrows and watched him push open the door. Behind the door was a table, and behind the table sat an officer. His face was as hard as a stone at first, and he was concentrating on a document in his hand.
But he was obviously a very smart, or very vigilant person. In less than a second, he realized that there was no footsteps at the door, so he quickly looked up and saw the lion.

The man immediately stood up and saluted, his uniform straight, the Sky Eagle shining in the center of his cap.

"Good afternoon, my Lord."

"Sit down, Shefa." The lion nodded at him. "I have someone to introduce you to."

Instead of walking into the office, he turned sideways so that Khalil appeared in the sight of the officer named Shefa.

The latter was slightly stunned, and his expression suddenly changed, between serious and confused. Then, he raised his hands, as if he wanted to salute.
But he didn't do it in the end. Instead, he pursed his lips, turned his right hand, and a badge suddenly appeared between his fingers.

Khalil glanced at it and couldn't help laughing.

"The Inquisitor?" he asked.

Shefa nodded quickly.

Khalil looked up at the lion, threw the spear to the giant who was smiling silently, and walked into the office, even remembering to close the door. But the lion did not leave, and he did not even feel angry.

His voice sounded outside the door, with a very obvious smile: "See you later, Khalil. Remember to bring the old sailor with you."

"Where to meet?"

"Look for it yourself." said the lion, and walked away with a smile.

Khalil turned around and looked at Inquisitor Shefa who was standing straight, and sighed.

"Sit down, Colonel Shefa? You also hold a position in the Military Affairs Department?"

"Yes, sir, only been in office for a month."

Shefa said, and then sat down meticulously. His voice was steady, and his eyes were looking forward, as if he was looking at Khalil, but also as if he was not. His eyes were focused, but not focused.

"A month?"

"I have been assigned a mission by the Sigillite. He requires me to gather some capable criminals across the galaxy and recruit them to form a new penal corps under my command. To do this, I must have a military rank, otherwise I will encounter considerable difficulties in the procedures."

"This mission requires me to take those criminals to the most dangerous war zones in various parts of the galaxy and screen them again. The Master of the Seal hopes to use this method to select a group of the most powerful scum, and then lead them under my leadership to carry out those nearly suicidal missions."

"If they die or complete their mission, they will receive a penance and the Emperor will forgive their sins."

Khalil was silent for a few seconds and then asked, "You have no doubts about this?"

"No, sir," Shefa replied firmly. "All those who were selected to join the Penal Corps deserved it."

I have my reservations about that, Khalil thought.

He pictured the man named Cage, with whom Khalil had talked for a long time before the guard beat him black and blue.

He is a former soldier who came here because he killed his superior. The reason is complicated, but he killed someone after all, so he is not wronged. But the people traveling with him are a former sergeant named Frank and a pastor named Gabor.

Frank comes from an agricultural world and is conscripted into the military for his tithes, rising from farmer to soldier to sergeant. He seems to have a bright future until he fights rebels on a planet called Lucky Two.

During that battle, Frank and his soldiers never had enough to eat during the month-long fighting period, so he took his men to question the superior officers, but found that they were eating beef stew and drinking brandy in the tent.

Frank asked them for supplies, but the officers refused again. Then his soldiers could no longer bear it and they stole everything in the officers' tents.

But Frank did not stop them, because he could not understand how hungry soldiers could attack the enemy's fortress on the ice. He was sentenced to the Penal Corps for disobeying orders and attacking his superiors.

As for the priest Gabor, he was somewhat similar to Frank in that both disobeyed their superiors. The only difference was that he did so in public in front of six officers of the Imperial Guard.

He questioned his superior, a bishop, why he was executing those who had protected his palace during the rebellion, and the answer he received was the bishop's roar.

Because they are not pious enough!
Then, Gabor had his legs broken and was thrown into prison, but was selected into the Penal Corps because of the fighting ability he showed in prison.

"gentlemen?"

"Nothing, Colonel Shefa." Khalil smiled at him. "Just want to remind you that there are exceptions to everything. Some people are not killers or perverts. They are simply punished because they did the right thing in the wrong environment."

"You are still young, try to understand this matter early."

He stood up and left. The wooden door closed and he stepped into the darkness. He found the old sailor Hayd on the left boarding deck of the Edge of Reason.

The latter was sitting in a temporary reception room, with a cup of scented tea in front of him, and a newspaper and a magazine lying beside him. But Haid neither drank tea nor read newspapers or magazines.

He just sat upright on the sofa, his eyes blank. Khalil appeared at the door, then gently opened the door, pretending to just walk in, and coughed softly.

The old sailor turned his head and blurted out a question the moment he saw him: "Sir! Where have you taken me?!"

"The Edge of Reason," Khalil said. "A ship of the Dark Angels."

(End of this chapter)