‘That is another story,’ said the captain reluctantly. ‘We are being obstructed in our efforts. Disputes as to what was in Ultramar and what was not are delaying plans to reconstitute the Five Hundred Worlds as it was in your day. Recalcitrant commanders are exploiting our ignorance. Our historical record is incomplete, my lord. We do not have a definitive map of Ultramar during your time. The Mappa Guillimanus in the Library of Ptolemy was damaged millennia ago. The surviving complete maps show the realm at various stages of expansion, or after your division of it, but not at Ultramar’s height. Many of the documents you drew up to grant sovereignty to local planetary commanders are lost. But things progress. We believe three quarters of the ancient realm of Ultramar is back under the direct stewardship of Macragge.’

‘Lord Calgar has a list I drew from memory,’ said Guilliman. ‘It carries my seal, and the full weight of Imperial authority. I have a map inset into the window of my Hall of Armaments. Calgar has a copy of it. There is nothing to argue about.’

‘Some of the worlds dispute the proof. They are more than glad to welcome our warriors, but the Imperial commanders in two dozen systems quibble over reaffirming their oaths of loyalty. In one case, we have had an outbreak of intra-system civil war over the issue, where one lord has declared for you and three against. Some lie outright, telling us they were never part of Ultramar. Perhaps some of them sincerely believe it. A few are braver and insist the ancient treaties cannot be revoked, even by you, my lord, and are determined to retain their independence.’

‘They are wrong,’ said Guilliman.

Ventris watched a small wheeled transport speed across the plaza towards the construction line, throwing up a plume of settled dust that drifted back down as it passed. ‘They are… disquieted by the fate of some of their peers.’

‘Only those who rule poorly have anything to fear,’ said Guilliman.

‘It is, naturally, the more autocratic rulers who oppose your rescinding of their independence.’

‘Then they only delay the inevitable,’ said Guilliman. ‘They will fall into line and ask politely for mercy, or they will be executed.’ He watched a giant earthshaper grind an outcropping of rock flat in an instant, belching out a fine spray of pulverised stone. A furnace on its trailer puffed smoke as it baked the harvested material into rockcrete powder. The stone would soon be returned to the plain in this new form by the foundation teams. 108/Beta-Kalapus-9.2 world was so barren. He pitied the Space Marines he would station here, but places like the Pit of Raukos needed guarding. Countless baseline humans and transhumans suffered to maintain the watch upon the Imperium’s new, terrifying borders.

‘I should never have set the Five Hundred free,’ he said suddenly.

‘My lord?’ said Ventris.