On the Star Walker.
The feast thrown by Julius in honor of the Grimnyr and his men to celebrate the completion of their work was over. The laughter and songs had given way to the familiar hum of the ship. Julius retired to his quarters, his mind heavy with thought.
He knew that in the universe of Warhammer 40,000, the Emperor despised religious cults. His dream was a united and rational humanity, not a faith based on fanaticism and superstition. And above all, he hated corruption – physical, mental, or spiritual – the very corruption that would be the cause of his fall.
"If I can prevent it in time," Julius thought. "I will need him for the coming fight. My enemies are legion."
But for that, he needed protections against Chaos. Real defenses, beyond weapons and soldiers.
"I already have the clones of my 'Void Sisters,' the former Sisters of Silence created by the Kaminoans on new Kamino. They protect the complexes housing the Spartan IIs derived from Todd's clones, as well as the Jaeger Mark VIs." The latter were designed for speed and power, with a fast and brutal close-combat style, their adamantium alloys making them unparalleled combat mules. The ocean world was a veritable stronghold, bristling with Terran-tech defense turrets.
This world was impenetrable. But against the Warp and its accursed black magics, guns and blades had their limits. He needed an expert. And it was going to cost him dearly in energy points.
His face determined, Julius addressed the familiar interface. "System: purchase the Ancient One, Yao."
A soft light filled the room, and a woman appeared. She was bald, her face androgynous and sagacious, that of Tilda Swinton. Her eyes, of a disturbing clarity, settled on Julius, sizing him up with immediate intensity.
"You are not ordinary, I see, little man," she said, her voice calm but imbued with an authority that brooked no argument.
Julius was shocked by the tone and the term. No one spoke to him like that. But he instantly remembered the personality of the Ancient One, a being of inconceivable age and wisdom. She will be my Malcador, for now, he thought, accepting the humiliation for the strategic gain.
Before he could utter a word, the Ancient One raised a slender, imperious hand, silently commanding him to be quiet. Without another glance, she turned on her heel and left the room with a decisive step.
Julius stood for a moment, stunned, not understanding why she had left so abruptly. Then a relative calm washed over him. She was bound to the System, and therefore to him. She would not betray him. Her departure was not a rejection, but the beginning of her own plan, her own assessment of the situation. The game against Chaos had just gained a pawn of inestimable value, even if that pawn was as unpredictable as a force of nature.