Chapter Text
“Valentius Metarurus,” came the grousing voice as Veteran Sergeant Metaurus stepped aboard the battle barge Resilient from the tender that had conveyed him from his own voidcraft.
“Tullian Sidonus,” Metaurus returned in a similar tone, well pleased to see that his old comrade still continued in his duty. Second Company was well served by the old warrior, he thought with great affection. They had been in the same neophyte cohort centuries ago, but had been assigned to different companies as they reached the scouts. Sidonus had recently been offered the chance - as had Metaurus - to repopulate the ranks of First Company after it had been sacrificed to hold Macragge from the recent tyranid menace while the rest of the Chapter gathered to retake it.
But some men evidently found where the Primarch and Emperor wished them to remain, that exercised the full range and scope of their talents - and then had the wisdom to resist promotion to higher honors and tasks unsuited to them. Such had it been with Sidonus, setting himself as a fixture within Second Company, the better to guide and mentor the brothers charged with the protection of the Chapter’s holdings. “It is good to see you, brother.”
“I feel the same as you, Metaurus. You are here for Titus?” Sidonus questioned, grasping Metaurus’s forearm in a warrior’s clasp. It was tradition for the confirmation of a new promotion of significant rank to be performed by those who had first discovered them - or by the Chapter Master if such a mentor’s duty had since ended.
“I am,” Metaurus confirmed, pride singing down to his bones. To think that the youth he had first discovered on Tarentus had risen so swiftly - his quality unsheathed and witnessed by those with the wit to recognize such - was a heady feeling indeed. “I was truly sorry to hear that Captain Trajen’s duty had come to a close, but am glad indeed that Titus has risen to his place.”
“He served the Chapter valiantly,” Sidonus agreed. The other Veteran glanced about the bustling hangar, serfs and servitors at their stations mingling with flocks of tech-priests ministering to their machines, then drew the newcomer away from the commotion.
“What word precisely reached First Company as to the matter of Captain Trajen’s passing?” Sidonus asked urgently once they had reached a secluded alcove where they could speak frankly with each other - clearly he was concerned as to how recent events were being perceived by the Chapter at large.
Metaurus did not know what the issue was, but answered easily enough - as the tale had been told to him. “One of your young battle brothers was captured alive by Aeldari on the world of Beta-Arcturus. Captain Trajen resolved to retrieve him, but was slain in the subsequent ambush. The brother in question was subsequently recovered alive by then-Sergeant Titus, who also brought back Trajen’s body and gene-seed to the Chapter’s safekeeping.” Word was that Trajen was even now on his way back to Macragge, where his physical remains would be laid to rest in state as befit his rank and honors, while his gene-seed had been extracted before putrifaction could set in, and currently rested in stasis storage until it could be cultivated into the building blocks for the development of yet more Astartes warriors.
“His name is Leandros Quintus,” Sidonus told Metaurus. “Just out of the scouts. In truth his pride was the most severely injured in the ordeal, but it is hoped that will be soon mended.”
“Such might be wished for any Astartes after such a trial,” Metaurus soothed. “It is never easy for a young warrior to survive when his superiors fall in front of him - still more when they perceive themselves to be at fault. The only true remedy for such is time. In the end, he will either resolve to be worthy of such sacrifice, or fall in his own turn.”
Sidonus nodded, well knowing such already. But something more troubled him.“I still worry about him,” he confessed.
“How so?” Metarurs was startled. He had not been aware of any deficiencies in Titus’s character that would result in the new Captain seeking vengeance on the one responsible for the death of his predecessor - or allow other brothers to seek such while he himself turned a blind eye.
“Not in any physical sense,” Sidonus assured him swiftly. “Titus brought him immediately into his new command squad upon his elevation, in part to protect him from any who might hold him to account for the loss of Trajen, and his physical skills are more than up to the honor. No, it is his mental state that worries me. He is defensive, combative, and increasingly rigid in his doctrines. You know well how - for all the wisdom of the Codex - a brother must from time to time lift his gaze from its pages to observe the disposition of the enemy before him, and not assume their formation because the Codex tells him how they will be arraigned."
“That is indeed troubling,” Metarurus confirmed the other Veteran’s worries. “Is Titus aware of this?” If not, that he could miss something like this in the brothers right beside him did not speak well for the new Captain’s fitness for his position.
“He is,” Sidonus confirmed, easing Metaurus’s fears. “And is doing what he might to change such attitudes. But it is slow going, as Leandros is proving more stubborn than anticipated. It is understandable that such a nature allowed him to survive his ordeal, but it also prevents him from melding into a single unit with his brothers on the field now that it is over.”
“Then I wish the new Captain every success.” Metaurus shrugged as well as he was able in his warplate. There was not much for even Lord Calgar to do in the case of such - and Titus would have to find some way of resolving it if he wished to prove himself worthy of his new role. “What does your Chaplain say?”
“Chaplain Gemantus does not feel that there is an issue in need of his attention, feeling that Leandros’s zeal toward the Codex puts him at far less risk than others of his brothers in regards to corruption,” From his scowl as he said the words, Sidonus did not share his Chaplain’s complacency.
“Until a greater issue develops, then it would likely be best to follow your Chaplain’s guidance,” Metarurus counseled. “Now, we have delayed far past what is proper, and I wish to pay my respects to your commander before the official proceedings begin.”
Sidonus led Metaurus through the battle barge, until they came to the Strategium. There they indeed found the new Captain, conferring with the Shipmaster and several other serfs, resolving some undoubtedly minor issues that had come from the running of the vast ship. Tellingly, Metaurus could spy the red of a Sergeant’s helm clamped into place at Titus’s waist - as if he still thought of himself as just a Sergeant.
“That helm no longer belongs to you,” Metaurus barked out in greeting as the Shipmaster and his underlings left their conference.
Titus’s face visibly lit up to see the two Veterans. “It’s good to see you,” he paused, then smirked challengingly. “Old Man,” he stage-whispered.
Metaurus boomed with laughter, recognizing the reference. “You have come a long way since the boy I discovered so long ago, Titus.”
“I was an arrogant little shit,” Titus waved the memory away. “I would hope that I have since learned to be somewhat wiser - and humbler.”
“Lord Calgar would not have elevated you so if he did not believe in you,” Metaurus assured him. By the Primarch, the boy looked well! Flushed with pride, and evidently bearing up well under his increased responsibility. “But false modesty is as much a failing as excessive pride. You have earned your Captancy, Titus. Carrying around a Sergeant’s helm does not suit you.”
Titus winced. “Captain Trajen’s helm is… currently out of action. The Senior Magi in our Armoring Shrine all say that it needs extensive sanctification before it will be fit for combat once more. Lord Calgar’s return message said that instead he would send a replacement alongside his representative…”
“I did,” Metaurus confirmed, thinking of the chest that was even now being unloaded from his transport and conveyed to the Assembly Hall for the coming ceremony.
“Since both Lieutenants Carizianus and Tiberian are currently deployed on separate detached assignment - not that it would be appropriate to acquire any of their regalia - I thought that I would use this -” Titus patted the Red Helm at his waist, “purely on a temporary basis until more official insignia could arrive.”
The practical was sound, Metarurus had to admit - but there was a flaw in the reasoning. Even broken, Lucian Trajen’s helm would have been a more appropriate adornment for a new Captain than a Sergeant’s insignia. But then, Titus had served directly under the fallen Captain as he ended his duty, so perhaps there were reasons beyond the rational that he did not wish to take up his former superior’s helm.
No matter, the replacement had already arrived, and was currently undergoing dedication by Second Company’s Chaplain and the resident tech-priests before it would be formally issued that evening. Metaurus put the matter from his mind, focusing instead on answering the new Captain’s questions as to what was happening as to the Chapter at large, and what tasks Lord Calgar wished for him to focus on as he took formal command.
Later, as his charge knelt before the Veteran to receive the rewards he was due, Metaurus looked out over the gathered brothers, wondering absently which one was the troublesome Leandros. All the gathered congregation were in their full warplate, helms sealed in place, as befit the formal circumstances, and Metaurus did not know those of Second Company well enough to identify the brothers at a glance merely by their individual decorations. As a member of the new Captain’s command squad, presumably Leandros was near the front, possibly just behind the First Company Terminators, yet none in the close ranks seemed a proper fit.
By the Sacred Wound of Guilliman, Metaurus prayed that the new Captain knew what he was about in regards to this potential problem. But then, Sidonus knew that there was an issue, and would keep a careful eye on the matter. At the very least, the Veteran should command enough respect to keep the young brother in some kind of check - at least long enough for Leandros to temper such brittle faith. And - for his own sake - that such rigidity would not become the young brother’s own undoing.