Amidst all of the fighting and explosions, I kept an eye for any useful loot, the Canticle augury scans flashing rapidly on my holoscreen and comparing the Ork ships with the Imperium's known ship profiles.

While from the front or side the vessels would be mostly unrecognizable, due to erratic weapons and armor plates add-ons improvised by Ork Mekboys, from behind the number and placement of engines was a dead give-away.

Cruisers of Mars and Lunar patterns, light cruisers and frigates, transport barges and ore haulers, even an Ironclad_Battleship and an Exorcist_Grand_Cruiser. It seemed this Ork Waaagh was composed of at least 80 percent from retro-fitted Imperium vessels.

Didn't fill me with confidence about the success rate of the Imperial Navy in their campaigns, nor the safety of the Imperium supply lines.

The bridge Tech-priest soon achieved long range contact with Ryza and began imputing the Forge World's designations for these Orks of WAAAGH! Grax and Rarguts.

The Grax Waaagh! had been ongoing for a longer time, and the promise of fighting and loot had drawn in the newly arrived Rarguts Waaagh!, which we were busy crippling right now.

"Captain, I have located two main Warbosses, on their largest ships. I recommend we target them with Vortex warheads." the datapshere-expert Magos announced a minute later.

I mused at that proposal for a minute, then decided not to. Infesting those ships with demons wouldn't help me salvage them, plus Forge Ryza did not send me a plea to use any means to rescue them. Nor was I confident I could close those rifts with my small fleet.

I checked the system map for something that could help and noticed a Battle Barge of the Space Wolves Chapter, with an Astartes Strike Cruiser as escort.

Now, these guys would be useful indeed.

"Magos, send a vox communique to the Space Wolves and request a Marine Company to support us boarding and capturing the largest ships of Rarguts Waagh!" I ordered, then I turned towards the army regiment colonels standing ready at the holomap table.

"Colonels, I can expend 2 corvettes as boarding crafts for our guardsmen and servitors. Don't let their sacrifice be in vain. Those big ships have to be captured and returned into humanity's hands." I proclaimed quite heroically.

Without engines to provide constant acceleration, the Ironclad and the Exorcist were falling behind their other ships still pressing the big red button to reach Forge Ryza faster.

I urged the Canticle to target two Mars-type cruisers next, and to blow up as many smaller ships it could.

The Machine Spirit seemed angry and excited, and obeyed eagerly, increasing the rate of fire of our lance batteries and adjusting course to gain better angles for the next torpedo salvo.

No matter how bullshit the warp manipulation of an Ork Waagh was, a ship without engines couldn't steer as well as one with functional engines. The Orks tried of course, assembling sails made of metal plates and oars made of long antennas or support beams, and it even worked to a very small degree. But paddling in the void with oars, as illogical and nonsensical it might be, was too slow, and we could steer ourselves away from their Big Gunz firing arcs.

They launched fighta-bombas and other assault craft to annoy us, but my fleet did have amazingly good point defense weapons, and new ships. We barely missed any of their smoking and sputtering contraptions, some even powered by coal and steam engines by the looks of them.

But if the Orks overran Ryza, they would have the best of the Imperium's plasma reactors and weapons, and would become a major threat to the entire galaxy.

Couldn't let that happen.

"Captain, the Space Wolves have agreed to dispatch two Terminator squads and some Assault Marines to spearhead the boarding parties. ETA 3 hours." the tech priest proclaimed victoriously.

Indeed, even with such small numbers the Astartes knew their jobs well. They even had genetically modified dogs the size of a car to help, though I wasn't sure any dog could serve as a mount for a Terminator-pattern power armor.

We shall see.

"The wet dogs of Russ." Ludvaius muttered with a weird voice.

The other Astartes in my crew remained silent and calm, simply examining the space battle and taking mental notes. At least he was learning, my Scythe Captain.

Anyway, those 3 hours should give us plenty time to secure and isolate our boarding targets, and even begin initial landings, so I could claim ownership over these relics after the Orks were exterminated.

Darting to the sides and below the huge Ork behemoths, my corvettes expended all their consumable ammunition to thin out the more fragile Ork escorts and transports.

Soon enough, the torpedoes were reloaded again and the Mars-class cruisers under Ork control also lost their engines and speed, drifting behind the main front of the Ork Waagh.

I then focused the lance batteries of the Canticle on the remaining light cruisers and simply evaporated their exposed backsides, and filled the void with two dozen hulks spinning out of control.

We also had to slow down to maintain our safe-ish position to the rear of the bigger Ork Battleship, and soon the Ork Waagh left the range of our weapons.

Torpedoes did have a longer range, and our last salvo caught two Ork infested Lunar cruisers from behind and left them crippled far ahead of my fleet. Meanwhile, our lance batteries began cutting large holes into our targets, exposing the Orks to vacuum and

clearing a path into the interior.

Servitors and tech-priests, as well as the smaller armor like Weasels and Sentinels began loading into the two sacrificial corvettes, which will act as a kilometer long boarding torpedo.

The more squishy guardsmen and grenadiers, with a battalion of void marines would arrive later and insert via shuttle and then through the length on the corvette into the battleship and the grand cruiser.

Two hours later the first corvette accelerated and hit the Ironclad into the weaker backside, sticking out like a funnel. Good enough.

"Begin the liberation, colonels!" I ordered while changing the focus of my attention on the next prize.

The second corvette was ready and impacted the Exorcist just before the Astartes Strike cruiser arrived.

I just pointed to the next batch of Army Colonels, gifted to me by various Forge Worlds along with their Guard regiments. I didn't quite see eye to eye with most of them, but they were useful nonetheless.

Mostly for defending entrenched positions, sadly. They worked great at Estaban, during the defensive phase and struggled to keep up and adapt to maneuver and other attacking tactics in the liberation phase.

It didn't matter that much because Estaban and the Iron Hands had more than enough heavy machines and expertise for assaults, but I still wasn't happy with their poor training.

"Rogue Trader Lancefire, your arrival was fortuitous. I see you have already began boarding the largest Ork vessels. Very commendable!" a voice with a strange accent arrived on the vox channel.

"Your target is the Ork Warbosses, Astartes! Try not to damage my salvage prizes overly much. Pef out!" I replied with a wry voice.

An amused chuckle was the only response from that Space Wolf. Overwhelming firepower was in their codex.

I should be happy if anything was left standing, after they completed the mission.

"Escorts, spread out in pattern Omicron. Auguries scans to maximum and keep an eye for any sneaky xenos prowling about." I ordered on the clan channel, dispersing the corvettes farther out in a sphere, to increase visibility and cross-sectional scan profiles.

Soon enough, the helpful Astartes took the lead and began butchering their way deeper into the derelict spaceships, filling the hallways with splattered green mushrooms and bolter casings.

"How about you two, wanna go loosen up those violent inner urges?" I wondered idly, turning to my guardian Astartes.

Ludvaius growled at me, while Captain Thrasius just nodded calmly. "It is our duty, Lord Pef. Do try and avoid getting into more fist fights, if you can." he advised me politely, and checked his combi-bolter the tenth time.

I just waved him off. Your own Chaplain punched me, you wise ass!

"You too, Ludvaius?" I wondered out loud.

"Stay safe, Captain" he replied with a serene voice.

After the space marines left, I turned towards the Ryza tech-priest. "Magos, assemble the rest of the available servitors and tech-priests and secure the crippled cruisers. Once the reactors are safe and powered down, we may begin cleansing the greenskins as well."

"Captain, that would leave our ship without vital security and tech support!" he argued just like I taught him. It made sense to have your subordinates point out critical mistakes, after all.

"All true, tech priest. But we are here at Ryza. I'm sure your Fabricator General will replenish my loses, once I gift him a captured ship or two." I replied a bit amused, pointing at the system map.

The tech priest blinked and then nodded a second later. "You are correct, Captain. A cruiser is worth a hundred times as much as any loses we might sustain from boarding operations."

I know, my friend. I invented the gift game.

Each capital ship salvaged would be a Favor with Ryza, and if they wanted the relic Grand Cruiser I would get something even nicer in return

And losses we did sustain, tens of thousands of servitors and some guardsmen, even with light armor support and void marines lobbing krak grenades into every corridor.

The Orks fought back with passion and disregard for losses, and our salvage expeditions to the Lunar cruisers farther away had to retreat ignominiously, although they did achieve the primary objectives and shut down the reactors.

I redirected the remaining troops and servitors on the Mars cruisers and sent out more light tanks and Sentinels to compensate for the obvious lack of power armor.

Imperium ships were built with huge inner hangars and wide hallways, so this strategy worked somewhat. Flamers and grenades were much more useful in tight spaces, frying thousands of grechins and Ork boyz, and somewhat countering the more armored Nobs and Mekboyz.

The 'Ardboyz were a more difficult target, protected by heavy metal plates and impossible biological resilience, than the normal Shoota Boyz or Slugga Boyz, but fire is a great equalizer.

By the end of the day, the Space Wolves had terminated one Warboss on the ironclad and diverted some Grey Hunters to help clear out the Mars cruisers, while the Terminators transferred on the Exorcist Grand Cruiser, after they reloaded all the spent bolter ammunition.

Immediately, the tides changed, as the Astartes simply plowed through the fierce Ork resistance and cleared the main hallways towards the bridge and the reactor bulkheads.

Sometime during this engagement, the real Warboss died under Astartes Terminators assault, and the Rarguts Waagh simply shattered into a hundred small splinters all around the star system.

Their warp distortions also failed, and many illogical Ork weapons or armors became ineffective or just stopped working.

Thus, we renewed our offensive boarding with 10 times fewer casualties, and rapidly overran the Mars cruisers.

The assault landers returned to the Lunar cruisers and managed to capture them as well.

After that, it became even easier, and one by one the light cruisers were boarded and disinfected from the fungal infestation, leaving the tech-priests to begin reconsecrating the derelicts and cleanse the corpses.

Of course, that meant my medical bay was again filled with wounded and cripples, giving something to do for the Biologis Magi and my dear doctors/concubines.

Thousands of irradiated and sick serfs from the lower decks were called to be converted into more servitors as a stop-gap, and during this culling the tech-priests detected 9 more Blanks among the indentured crew.

I set them aside as a gift for Ryza, should it be interested in replicating Blank Machine Spirits. I was quite certain they would.

Made me wonder if constant exposure for generations to the Warp had created even more Blanks among the serfs of the Navy, which seemed probable. It could be simply my extraordinary luck, or it could be a general trend among humanity.

Clearing the big ships took more time, as expected. My troops soon ran out of bolter ammunition and had to fallback on lasguns and flamers, while the Astartes had their potent melee weapons and servo-powered strength to keep slashing and chopping.

I provided a hundred STCs produced at Antax to serve as temporary barracks for my organic troops, as well as for sleep and recovery on board the enormous Ork warships.

The tech priests were poking them in confusion, as intended. Containers with the STC designations didn't quite compute in their Mechanicus Cult dogma.

Of course, the grenadiers and void marines were too tired to care, simply glad at having a safe-ish place to eat and sleep.

Nearly a month later, both ships were declared reasonably secure and the Astartes departed for their continued Crusade against the other Ork Waaagh.

I decided to wait and let my troops rest and recover while the tech-priests inventoried and collected anything of value from my prizes.

Sadly, most of the comical looking weaponry that we captured didn't work anymore, possibly because the silly Mekboyz used welding or hammers to fix their devices, powering them with belief and stupidity.

Once the Waagh field dissolved, the Ork weapons became rusted scraps and unstable power cells ready to blow at nearest touch.

However, the dead Painboyz, known also as "Mad Doks" did have real artifacts stapled onto them, some of them relics of Astartes genetors or Librarians, including trauma packs and valuable Life_Extension_Technologies.

One of them was a huge claw with the ability to connect a human mind, or even an Ork, to a Mind Impulse Unit and allow that person to control machinery with their minds, just as a Princeps mentally controls an Imperial Titan. Or so my Antax provided advisor whispered while measuring me for some future upgrade.

Other serums and injections would be valuable as well, after the Biologis Magi checked them ten times for safety and doctrinal integrity.

The other find was a Wierdboy bound tightly by the Orks themselves into a prison cell, eyes exploded but still alive. His neck and chest were covered with phase-iron manacles and chains, possibly to keep the Warp user from exploding the ship or the Ork tribe itself.

He wouldn't be that dangerous right now, and nearly irrelevant to myself. I also decided to keep him as a gift for Ryza, complete with the ton of ultra-rare phase-iron bindings, worth a battlecruiser by itself.

Then I thought again and decided to chop off the Wierdboy's arms and salvage some phase-iron for my own use.

Something like a crossbow bolt tipped with phase-iron couldn't be parried by the next Chaos Sorcerer trying to ruin my wrist.

The adamantium hull of the Ironclad battleship was of enormous value again, and I just realized how lucky our Warp emergence had been. I doubted a vortex missile would have damaged the Ironclad sufficiently, and it would have been impervious to anything else I had.

I managed to steal away a hangar full of adamantium plates from broken bulkheads and doors, since the Astartes haven't been careful or frugal with their firepower. Luckily, I did have Armed Sentinels and logistic Weasels to help me transport and handle the heavy adamantium plates.

A day later, an Ark Mechanicus cruiser arrived from Forge Ryza, with the Fabricator Locum on board.

It was time for gifts and making friends. At his place, not mine.

"Captain Lancefire. We meet at last. Who knew you would employ the Overlord in aid of our Forge World, and so soon?" the Fabricator began with a rhetorical question.

Ludvaius gestured with three fingers at me. Something in Astartes battle speak about being cautious and thinking thrice before speaking.

"Obviously, Forge Ryza did. A sign from Omnissiah, as a gift would be returned thrice if given with a pure heart." I answered gently and followed him inside his armored quarters.

Ludvaius snorted and leaned on the metal wall of the hallway, to await my eventual return or survival.

The Fabricator stared at me for a minute, waiting for the punch line. "I admit I don't understand." he replied with a wave of tentacle.

"There's a Grand Cruiser, a battleship, a few Mars, Lunar and dozens of light cruisers in my gift, Fabricator. I'm sure even the outer shell is worth something, if sold for scrap." I argued humbly and sat in the indicated chair.

The Magos sighed audibly, emitting a wheezing noise like something mechanical wobbled in his chest.

"You're being ridiculous, Lord Pef. That adamantium Ironclad is worth some 3 trillion thrones, even if 'sold for scrap'. And a nearly intact Grand Cruiser is worth at least another Overlord-class cruiser, just like the Canticle." he answered with a flutter of mechadendrites.

Perhaps upset or irritated, maybe both. Cyborg body language is hard to read, because they never seem to have the same numbers of limbs and joints.

I just shrugged. "If you say so. Here, more gifts of another nature." I said flatly and began handing over the plasma-based templates and my failed Volcano-patterns. Surely Ryza will manage to make them work.

I never seen a tech-priest cry til now, but perhaps insurmountable joy was not something their logis-engines were prepared to counter.

So, I patted his orange robe over the shoulder. "There, there. No need to cry Magos. I know the STC templates are a bit damaged, but you have a million genial Magi on Ryza. Perhaps they can be repaired in a few decades." I advised him in a sad voice.

The Archmagos sobbed harder, so perhaps I fucked up worse than I thought

A minute later the Fabricator composed himself and patted my head in a gentle move.

"We will remember this gift, Lord Pef. There is little Forge Ryza cannot do, as we have entire sectors beholden to us, shipyards, regiments and technologies as advanced as Mars itself." he promised in a more sober tone.

I just nodded, since it made sense. "Your world is in trouble right now, Magos. I'll try to help, but my troops and servitors are nearly depleted. The same with our torpedoes and missiles, and most consumables. A hundred thousand injured and crippled guardsmen. And then, I had to sacrifice two perfectly good corvettes to deploy sufficient forces for a beachhead."

The Magos blinked in confusion, then acceptance. "Anything you need, Captain Pef. Two corvettes are..."

"Precious for me. Perhaps your Forge can repair them at half cost?" I asked humbly.

The Fabricator sighed and turned away. "Yes. We will repair the ships." he allowed in a softer voice.

I pumped my fist in obvious joy. "Many thanks, Magos. I'll let you return to your duties, while my surviving tech-priests complete whatever repairs they can." I announced in a pleasant voice and left his rooms, and followed Ludvaius back to my ship.

Obviously, this won't end here, but Ryza would need to check everything, before agreeing to trade some rewards to the peculiar Rogue Trader.

What I wanted was not to empty their stasis cells of valuable machines and weapons already promised to the Navy or the Army. I wanted production templates and forges.

I wanted their plasma technology spread towards a thousand Forge Worlds, large or small.

In my view, the Mechanicus had too little power in the Imperium, for a group that should have held half of everything. Among the Lords of Terra, there were not 6 tech-priest Magi, but only one. The eleven other Lords were too strong with their majority votes, and could dictate policy and even exterminate entire Forge Worlds at their whim.

Even the Rogue Traders were beholden to the Administratum, their Warrants subject to censure or removal, something that didn't stand well for my own safety and freedom.

In theory, I could send requisition forms to Terra and demand to be granted more ships and regiments for my exploration efforts, or to repair loses in defense of the Imperium. In practice some scribe in the Administratum would flag my request to the Inquisition or the Vindicare Assassins, because it would be cheaper to solve my legal but expensive procedure due to my expiration date.

This was also the main reason I avoided big merchant or Hive worlds, where the Administratum would begin auditing my conquests and plunder for a substantial tithe, or perhaps simply confiscate my empire with a stroke of their brass typewriters.

By giving away the stuff I earned to various Forge Worlds, I sold nothing and received no revenue.

Hopefully, other Rogue Traders would begin catching on, and start doing something similar.

They just needed me to create a workable and rich path, something too attractive even to some rapacious Trader like my father had been.

I even had the perfect and unassailable motive, as donations to the Cult of Omnissiah. If the Administratum wanted to impose taxation on religious donations, the Ecclesiarchy would promptly object and veto that, as they too received humongous donations from nearly everyone in the Imperium. Very little from my own Dynasty, as it happens.

And here, Forge Ryza was the key, with their strong ties to Mars itself, having been founded by the Red Planet way back.

A week later, my fleet started moving again, shifting course to approach the larger ships of Waagh Grax from below and behind.

This potent armada had three Grand Cruisers and two battleships among their heavy ships, with over a two dozen Kill Kroozers and a small space hulk composed of some fifty different ships of various races and ages.

My fleet accelerated to flank speed and unleashed everything we had left on the optimal placed Ork_Battleship, shutting off and melting the engines before the rest of the Ork Armada could turn and chase us.

Sadly another corvette got lost to this daring raid, because a crazy Ork simply flared their Kroozer's engines to the maximum, and aided by the Waagh magic reached a faster speed than a ship a thousand times lighter.

However, that also exposed their weaker sides and rear to the defense fleet of Forge Ryza, who didn't lack torpedoes and other weapons to punish the Ork stupidity.

For this single stunt and my precious corvette, the Grax Waaagh lost 30 ships and even a battleship, which continued its spiraling orbit and crash-landed on a nearby moon. Still, the damn thing seemed intact and kept shooting the remaining Gunz and Big Gunz at anyone approaching that moon.

"I estimate with 80 percent probability for the Grax Warboss to have been on the crashed battleship. Still alive it seems." the bridge tech priest explained after trying to figure out how that ship didn't simply make a deep crater or explode, or both.

Lucky targeting perhaps. "Let Forge Ryza and the Astartes know about the Ork Boss. And tell them we're out of torpedoes, except that fancy one that the Inquisitor ask me not to use. Bicycle torpedo or something." I demanded with an innocent voice.

Ludvaius snorted in amusement, as the Magos began spluttering binharic cants and litanies about the sacred flame of the Omnissiah. Cyclonic torpedoes were not bicycles, but I was not a tech priest, so I got the benefit of doubt.

It didn't take an entire minute for a couple of Mechanicus cruisers to break off from the battlelines and speed away, then change course to intercept us at a fairly good distance from the fight.

Soon enough, the servants of Omnissiah began transferring a hundred torpedoes and replenishment servitors, without any more hints of half-cost.

Did I tell you how stupid Orks are?

We repeated the same trick a dozen times over the next month, slowly but surely eliminating the larger Ork warships and causing them to drift away without a real chance at steering or slowing down.

The Astartes failed to kill the Warboss stranded on the moon with their small strike teams, but I focused my attention on capturing the other battleship, this time without sacrificing another corvette.

Using our lances to open up landing spots for assault boats, and nearly all the replenished servitors, we began boarding the derelict battleship, while still enduring near suicidal waves of Ork bombers and escorts trying to save their big ship.

We could only shut down the reactor and silence the weapons, then we held a defensive positions inside the deformed bulkheads with more Weasels and Sentinels, waiting for reinforcements.

In the end, the Space Wolves began helping with more Grey Wolves as Tactical Marines and some tiny tractors with huge guns on them, called Rapier. They did a good job despite the silly looks, but then a big gun on a long hallway would be quite lethal.

Ludvaius went inside to take a look and meet his brothers for some banter, but I was told it was a real warzone, so I should stay put. So I did.

He brought back a shuttle filled with exotic archeotech and even xeno weapons, which we hid away in a hangar for my later perusal and deep scans.

He was also badly injured and leaking stuff from his ears, because the idiot thought helms were for bitches.

While Ludvaius recovered, Captain Thrasius took the job of bedroom guard, and he didn't seem to like it, hiding his pure eyes from my carnal pleasure.

"You want my descendants to consider joining your Chapter, Astartes?" I asked after the last concubine departed with a dreamy smile.

The Scythe blinked in confusion. "Why wouldn't they consider it? It is the greatest honor to serve the Emperor, even in death."

"Alright then. It's not like the Blood Angels don't need more Blank recruits, immune to Warp or mutations. I suppose your Chapter is free of any such problems like demonic taint or corruption." I answered with a shrug, and sat down in my cogitator chair.

And did nothing, because I couldn't know how this space marine might react.

I missed my Rose and her 'sealed by Inquisition' perk. Hopefully she'll find another batch of Deathwatch Astartes and other sneaky Acolytes for her retinue.

And if she could find a rogue Navigator to train our daughter, it would be even better.

Navigators had dozens of special skills and abilities, but not the weak guys in the employ of the Mechanicus. Every Forge World had contracts with various Navigator Houses that would provide their heirs and lower talents for a cost, and poor Pef didn't qualify for a Beta-level Navigator. Even Gamma-level like Lord Duros on the Litany were hard to find, and the deal made by my grandfather wasn't worth all that much. Possibly a rare trade route or a secret planet somewhere.

Lord Duros wouldn't say, or possibly couldn't.

Still, one day I would have my own Navigator House, as well as a Knight House. Perhaps my own Astartes Chapter, if I didn't get killed too soon.

Constructing a real Forge World at Retribution would take at least decades, or perhaps a century, and that if we managed to avoid getting invaded by something big.

Anyways, we conducted a last raid and demolished a dozen more Kroozers, expending most torpedoes and tricking more Orks ships to follow us on a chase, when the fleet at Ryza changed stance and began attacking.

Gravity beams, neutron guns, plasma guns of a dozen types, lascannons and macrobatteries filled the void, and breaking the back of the Ork Waagh.

I launched another boarding party on a Grand Cruiser, just to be able to claim it for my clan.

Soon enough, skitarii and servitors and various battle-automata from Ryza joined my troops and unleashed promethium, phosphorus and plasma on the silly Ork crew, crushing everyone in their unstoppable march.

The machines fought back, and they won the day

While the surface of the Ryza was still crawling with billions of Orks, with the orbital siege lifted the hardest part was over.

Billions of servitors and their commanding tech-priests arrived to engulf the derelict Ork ships in reclamation workforce. Under my eyes, smaller escorts and even the light cruiser hulls were being swiftly dismantled and brought to the orbital shipyards for reforging into new Mechanicus or Navy vessels.

As Ryza had the best plasma technology and expertise around, they kept the larger hulls intact and just pushed them farther out, to have their plasma engines rebuilt and the hulls cleaned and sanctified.

It would still take decades to rebuild a Grand Cruiser and even longer for a battleship.

Meanwhile, the bulk of the Mechanicus Navy fired salvo after salvo at the crashed Ork Battleship on the moon, without visible effect. The damn Waagh field was still going strong, anchored into the body or soul of that Grax Warboss.

Still, it seemed to me that Ryza wasn't really trying to end the invasion, and instead used it as opportunity to test their machines in relative safety, close to supply lines and without having to transport the huge Titans and robots to another system.

"Good target practice, right Magos?" I asked idly, while examining the battle lines from orbit.

"Perhaps so, Captain. Forge World Ryza should posses more than enough firepower to wipe out these Orks." Majoris replied after a few seconds of contemplation. Not his full name, but there was a Majoris title in there, so I went with it.

I engaged the savant implant to consider why this was happening. If a Forge World was under invasion, their quota and tithes would be obviously much reduced, or perhaps even suspended.

Sneaky way to conduct tax evasion, while also field testing various war machines on a nearby battlefield.

"Try to see if the Fabricator General can receive me, in private." I added in a fake whisper and left the bridge to Wentian. My elder uncle had good instincts and plenty command experience.

Then I went to my rooms, and began importing schematics and templates on another database, things that were not finished but would be useful to the millions of worlds in the empire.

From weapons and vehicles, to industrial designs and agricultural machines, logistical upgrades and facilities, including the standardized containers, wheeled and rail transport beds for them, also water based transports like container ships, cargo carriers for the Merchant Navy and Chartist Captains. Then I had health and ecologic designs, chemical filters and ultraviolet light barriers, electric trains and tramways for faster and cleaner transport, water purification and desalination, and more.

For defense, I compiled a set of forts and Orbital fortresses without major or glaring weaknesses. Metallic asteroids, powered by a plasma reactor and enveloped by a shield. Variants of them were armed with Lances, Torpedoes, attack craft, point defense and even Nova Cannons.

Then a simple corvette pattern without Warp Engines but stronger shields and point defense and extra torpedo launchers, in vertical cells. Practically a system missile boat, that could emerge if the system was under attack, or be carried as a parasite craft inside a Universe-class conveyor.

A thousand of such system corvettes, if the carrier was well-designed, with launch decks and wide hangars. I sketched a possible variant, envisioning a central rail line to bring torpedoes out from the armory and load them in blocks on the corvette, 30 per ship.

With its 10 kilometers long and 3 kilometers tall cargo hold, a mass conveyor could have 10 decks with 100 corvettes ready to be launched like torpedoes, and still have plenty room to spare.

Another similar design was a missile destroyer, but with normal Warp Engines and slightly bulkier as a result of the torpedoes stacked in a vertical cell block. STC template name: Los Angeles.

Then a Light Cruiser with a hundred dorsal torpedo tubes and 3 lance batteries on the ventral side, called the Macross-pattern cruiser.

I had begun loving the torpedoes, especially the servitor piloted type that I used. Enormous range and devastating firepower, with little chance of being hit yourself.

While my other sets of memories didn't include the exact operating principles and standards for these machines, they didn't need to. A Forge World would have a billion engineers ready to be assigned those designs and told to make them work.

Funny enough, these were in fact ancient terran designs, like the missile cruiser of the navy or the missile submarine, even the cargo vessels and electric trains.

Then again, Terra was now an arid planet without a drop of water, and the Himalayas mountains have been sculpted into the Imperial Palace.

Many parts of the Holy Planet were still greatly irradiated or polluted so much that the pollution itself seeped into the ground to form new oil fields.

Scars of tens of thousands of years of constant warfare were visible in every pict, craters and canyons formed by titanic weapons in place of the old cities.

The future had not been kind, and it would only get worse.

My musings were interrupted by Helena, who entered my room looking tired and drained. Most likely another hospital shift.

She sat in my lap and starred at the Holy Terra pict on the holoscreen.

"Will we ever see it for real?" she asked in a longing voice.

Her Emperor, and grudgingly mine as well, rested on the Golden Throne, sustained by the daily sacrifice of a thousand psykers.

My own hand was proof of his real powers, even mostly dead as he was.

"Soon enough, my dear. A few more Primarchs need to die, and others found again. Give me a thousand years to get my affairs in order." I answered softly and massaged her tone body with deft hands.

Tharsius coughed in warning. Right, big capital I sealed secret for now.

She fell asleep, and I carried her to my bed, and went on another tour of the ship, inspecting for damage, checking with the Master of Arms and all the various service heads.

A single campaign, fairly short at that, and the Canticle needed at least 6 months in dockyard, plus near total replenishment of servitors and lower deck serfs.

Perhaps Ryza will be nice enough to install triple void shields on my battlecruiser, and provide other upgrades to armor and torpedo tubes.

Then I visited the fighter deck, which was kinda small for a ship of this size. The Litany could carry 3 squadrons of fighters, and the Canticle had only 4 squadrons, being designed for long and medium range battles via torpedoes and lances.

Of the total 100 pilots, 22 were my daughters and 37 other clan members. It seems being a spacefighter pilot is still an honour and probably an adrenaline rush as well.

This wasn't my mansion on Illevar, so the girls wouldn't try their wiles on me, and "Daddy, kiss my elbow, it hurts" tricks.

While my kids were healthy and looked well, their machines were not. Riddled with bullets holes and missile shrapnel, I would be safer to just kick them overboard.

Perhaps Ryza could replace them.

"Need anything from me, pilots?" I asked to make sure.

They hesitated and glanced at the damaged fighters. "Better armor on the birds, and more missiles" their Flight Leader demanded as everyone laughed.

"I'll see what I can do. Prepare an escort for my shuttle, the most damaged Furies that can still fly." I commanded with a wry tone, and walked towards the next hangar, with the shuttles and assault boats.

These were riddled with holes and burn marks as well, due to hostile boardings under fire.

I almost decided to pick a wobbly shuttle, then I thought again. My own person would be at unnecessary risk. A Stormbird had the Gellar field as well, and Chaos wouldn't just wait to be purged.

"Heading towards Ryza?" Tharsius asked with a wary tone.

"Of course. We'll have air cover and orbital support, my friend." I answered a bit more confidently.

"Fine, helmet stays on." my bodyguard demanded as the ramp began to close.

I nodded in agreement. Wouldn't want my lungs to freeze if the lander depressurized for some reason.

As the Stormbird lifted off, I obediently mounted my armored helmet and checked my weapons, just like the Astartes did. Hellpistol, power dagger and three flash grenades, just in case.

My void guards became alert and silent now, and two Armed Sentinels locked their feet with magnetic clamps to cover the ramp.

A minute later the fighters formed a protective wing on us, and we began descending towards the main spire of the Forge Ryza.

"Passing through Ryza air defense corridor, IFF check." the lander's pilot announced on the intervox speakers.

"Clear to land now, beginning retro-burn." he continued in a professional tone. The Stormbird shook and trembled then settled down. "Be advised, I see Astartes and dogs among the welcoming party"

I sighed and pointed at the ramp, letting my escort go first and secure the landing pad.

Probably made quite a sight, two large walkers with chainswords and autoguns providing deterrence and a show of strength.

My void marines were not as imposing, even with their burned and scratched carapace armor, but then Tharsius emerged and observed the landing pad for a minute, before urging me to come.

"Landing secure, Lord Pef. Still, head directly inside and don't pet the dogs. They might bite." he announced in a loud voice.

A dozen wolves growled menacingly, showing long canines and shaking their furs.

I advanced and slapped the biggest Space Wolf on his furred shoulder. "Well met Astartes. Don't bite my hand, okay?"

He slapped me back and nearly broke my spine. "Hahaha, you really are a funny guy. Is it true an Angel grew back your hand?" he wondered out loud.

"I wasn't conscious at that time, and my implants didn't record anything. But before that, I recall slashing a Chaos sorcerer and trying to stab a Word Bearer in the face. He was too fast though..." I admitted in a pleasant tone.

The big Astartes chuckled and glanced at Tharsius in disbelief.

"I was on Estaban, busy killing Fulgrim at that time. But witnesses say he kicked the traitor in the balls after his arm was caught." the Scythe explained with an amused voice.

The other Space Wolves howled in mirth and glee and pounded my shoulders for my bravery. "Good enough for a puppy, Lord Lancefire. Any smart idea how to get to that Warboss?" another Space Wolf asked in a more sober voice.

I nodded and walked away. "Of course. But I want a puppy for that." I quipped, pointing at the ferocious guardian wolf to my side.

The wolf snarled at my hand and drew back. Damn Blank aura.

Inside the barricaded entrance, I was met by a company of Catachan_Jungle_Fighters, as their planet was nearby and was able to send a dozen regiments to defend Ryza.

A big Ogryn bodyguard in makeshift armor stood in front of me, and eyed Tharsius with suspicion. "Oi, you're kinda small for a space marine." Nork_Deddog commented, possibly referring to my light power armor.

I nodded and smiled. "You're very smart, buddy. I'm a puppy marine, but I have this big spaceship, so it evens out. I also have this real Astartes as my bodyguard, just like you."

"Nork sees. A ship Captain then. My boss is a Colonel, so I win." the Ogryn proclaimed proudly towards the Scthye, pointing carelessly with his enormous hand at his commander, someone named Colonel Greiss.

Tharsisus snorted and banged his chest plate in salute. "We could use a regiment like them, Captain. Catachans are fierce warriors." he suggested without any ulterior motive.

I took a mental note and stayed silent. Something to ask the Fabricator then. It wasn't like regiments could simply be poached...although I technically could.

The Catachan Colonel glanced between me and my bodyguard with surprise. I mean, it was quite rare to see an Astartes in the retinue of a mere Captain. Plus Tharsius was a Captain himself, visible from the markings on his shoulder and knee pads.

"You are in command of that Overlord battlecruiser, Captain?" he asked to make sure.

"Indeed. Inherited from my father. But since we lost most of our troops capturing that Ork Battleship and two Grand Cruisers...we might need some fresh troops on board. You know, travel the galaxy, meet new and exotic people, and then kill them brutally."

I mused out loud, and waved him goodbye.

The man stared after me in confusion and perhaps amusement.

Always made sense to use the helmet's visor to see behind you, via the implant link.

A delegation of high ranking Magi received us in a sumptuous antechamber, decorated with metal cogs and tons of obscure heraldry or old relics.

"Welcome to Ryza, officially, Captain Lancefire and Captain Tharsius. I heard about Sotha." the Fabricator General told my bodyguard with a nod.

"Lord Pef evacuated everyone before he incinerated the planet, with a billion Tyranids xenos killed while devouring all biomass. A worthy sacrifice, to stop that huge Hive fleet." the Astartes allowed in a mourning tone. Well, it wouldn't have been pleasant to see your home go out in flames.

"I suppose we could repeat that trick, though perhaps using some Ork planet and spare the Imperium from another loss. Two xenos with one shot." I mused to myself, and saw the Mechanicus perk up with attention. Wouldn't need to tell them twice, as they had better implants and logis-engines than I had.

A large adamantium door opened in front of me, leading to a proper strategy room, with a dozen holomaps and a hundred Magi of every clade busy coordinating the defense of their Forge World.

Every Magos in the retinue entered that room, except the Forge leader who pointed at a smaller door to the side. "Alright then, Captain. You earned a private meeting." he invited me while pointing at a plasteel dais towards Thrasius.

The room was lined with copper and brass inserts, and a myriad of bafflers and shield emitters sprang up as the door closed behind me.

"Tea, wine or something else?" the Fabricator offered politely.

"Something else, of course." I said and sat down on a metal throne, since my power armor would damage a leather couch. "Your Forge World is amazing, but you have forgotten your purpose." I spoke in a sterner voice, and poked my chestplate with the golden aquila symbol.

"You mean the Imperium? A Rogue Trader that only deals with Forge Worlds?" he wondered in surprise.

"This eagle head, right here...it's you, Fabricator. The Cult Mechanicus. The other eagle is the Emperor's domain. There are a thousand times more human worlds than Forge Worlds, and a single Lord on Terra. Does that seem like parity of power to you?" I asked rhetorically.

He nodded slowly as he analyzed what I meant. "So that's why the gifts. I begin to see why my fellow tech-priests here in the Ultima Segmentum hold you so dear."

I smiled gently and leaned back. "I have a device...of sealed origins, that is used right now to redirect Hive Fleet Kraken on Mandragora. Really similar in ability with the Astronomican. The Tyranids follow the psychic beacon in hope of more biomass, though the Necrons lack such weakness."

The orange-robed Archmagos froze for a second, then began making tea with a few tentacles, possibly as a calming ritual.

"Terra itself will draw more Hive fleets then. Perhaps even the Eye of Terror...if what our Navigators tell us is reliable." he mused in a wary voice.

Excellent logical deductions, I had to admit. I did mention the Astronomican, just for that.

"I have another gift...of a relating nature. Estaban makes Blank Machine Spirits now, and there's nine such Blank persons kept safe on the Canticle, if you can spare some effort to replicate the process. Plus myself and my Blank concubines...for calibration tests. Could be useful to have robots and Titans immune to the Warp and psykers." I mused after sipping the nice tea.

The Fabricator General of Ryza just sighed and powered up a holoscreen with his own gifts. "Let's not upset the trade balance that much, for now. We're deeply in your debt, Lord Pef. Pick whatever you find useful, and request what else it is not here."

There were thousands of machines and weapons, spacefighters and bombers, spaceships and auxiliary regiments, even Navigators and astropaths.

I didn't see anything really useful though, not in the long term. Sure, new fighters and a few escorts would be nice, but they weren't my own templates. Gunships and tanks, Sentinels and troop carriers, artillery and anti-air vehicles.

I did select a Catachan regiment, one that had more women. Hopefully I could seduce a few hundreds of those fierce warrior women, for a stronger gene pool.

Then I shrugged and closed the screen. "What I would need is not here, Fabricator. Replacements are great of course, so you have my thanks."

"This isn't worth much, Lord Pef. Please, surely there is something Ryza can do, even though we're in a small trouble for the moment." he argued and waved a few arms.

Getting irate with my frugal ways, as expected.

I tapped my backpack and removed some 30 dataslates, and placed them on his work desk. "What humanity needs Fabricator, is civilization. Clear air, clean streets, cheap transport, open markets. We also need solid defenses for our worlds, not running from crisis to crisis. That means a thousand ships over every Hive world. It means a million warships at every Forge World. We should crush those bugs with impunity. They have claws and we have guns. Space guns!" I exclaimed in disgust and sat back down with a thump.

One could almost see the cogs spinning inside the cyborg's head. A few data cantrips escaped from a prayer box, before the tech-priest stopped it.

"And how would this be achieved, Lord Pef? The Imperium strangles the Cult with absurd rules and Inquisitorial controls. Nearly every year, another holy forge gets bombarded by our so-called allies." he muttered, seeming desperate.

That was it! Ryza refused to work for the Imperium anymore. Sort of work strike, imposed by an Ork invasion.

"I have nearly a hundred worlds in the Fringe, my friend. And there, I speak with the Voice of the Emperor. My rules...for those who want to live there." I said opening up the sector map. "Here, in this small corner of the galaxy, there are 50 million stars and planets. Enough metal to build a billion ships. And once my Blank genes spread among the people...the usual enemies will become much easier to defeat. Just another type of xenos, that we can shoot with our Blank Machine Spirits guiding our fire." I explained with fact-checked logic.

Sure, the genial idea came from Antax, but their small Forge World couldn't sustain such an enterprise. Even pimping out a cruiser took all their effort.

Meanwhile, the Fabricator was examining the other designs I have envisioned, or remembered.

"For starters, an exploratory expedition, in force. We'd need to map out your future realm, and plan our strategy. And all this will take centuries, maybe millennia." he concluded after storing the dataslates into a coded vault.

I went and hugged my new best friend while he was quite confused. "We'll need to coordinate with my other partners. For now, corvettes by the thousands to cover as much volume at once. And more Catachans would be nice. The Fringe is quite hostile to humans." I quipped as I waved goodbye and left his room.

"You didn't punch the Fabricator, did you?" Tharsius asked while checking me for damage.

What the hell did he think I was? An Ogryn?

Wait...Ogryns...in power armor. We'll need savant implants for all of them...but it could work.

Or maybe some eugenics, select the smarter descendants? I wondered if I could procreate with an Ogryn female.

Oh well. Time to find out

My fleet grew and was upgraded in the orbital shipyards of Ryza, and in these 6 months I received 10 brand-new Los Angeles-pattern missile destroyers, hastily converted from nearly completed hulls already in production. With 30 torpedoes prepared in their launch blocks, a single such destroyer should be able to cripple or destroy even a battlecruiser.

They have also started testing those system-only corvettes, and even produced about 30 of them, using them as test-beds for the large numbers of STC templates they have just received.

My own forces were upgraded with 16 Stormblade heavy tanks, 400 Armed Sentinels with multi-melta sidearms, and 4000 upgraded Hydra tanks, each with extra ceramite armor and a multi-melta remote-control gun for close defense, beside the twin anti-air multilasers. Hydras were amazing against air and land targets with thinner armor, and since air cover was always lacking I had to provide my own.

Also because in this time one of the continents of Ryza had been cleared of Orks, 4 Catachan regiments, about 80000 guardsmen, and about 500 Ogryns for special duties were donated to my own fleet.

Sadly, I was refused the pattern for an Emanatus_Force_Field, although the Fabricator did install these amazing shields on my heavy tanks and armored gunships. The hard way it will be then, scanning every micron of the device and then selling variants to other Forge Worlds.

Nearly a million Servitors were transferred to my fleet, and everything was repaired and upgraded, to a small degree. This was not Antax, and they wouldn't let me demand the sky and the moon at the first meeting.

But I was promised a few more capital ships, and the Universe-conveyor carrier upgrade and refit, sometime in the future. Perhaps in a century.

My transport ships were filled with Lasguns, flak jackets, helmets, backpacks, boots and other Astra Militarum supplies, since I did have a thousand PDF regiments planned for my empire's defense.

By the time my transports and a few escorts departed for Ilevar, and my own fleet towards Forge World Shenlong, that crashed Ork Battleship was still kept intact but grounded.

Ryza was surely faking being invaded, because I had a fearful puppy crying beside my bed, which meant the Space Wolves considered my tunneling plan viable, but were not allowed to proceed.

Ludvaius has also recovered from his injuries, and was given a Refractor_Field to guard me better. They didn't give me one, which kinda made me sad.

Luckily, I had a few hundred Catachan concubines drafted for a new sacred duty, and they kept me busy and rather satisfied, in bed.

Strong in body, and very fast, also funny accents all of them, but I didn't let Decima discriminate on that account. Only loyalty and fertility.

However, no Orgyn females were available, and I would need to travel to one of their frigid homeworlds to recruit a stock of super-humanly large amazons.

Majoris was busy buying my new regiments loyalty by crafting Devil's Claw-pattern combat knives from our salvaged adamantium, first for the commanders, then sergeants and then lower ranks.

The Ogryn were being implanted with savant and remembrancer nodes, and covered in fatigues made of flak jacket material with armor plates pockets, which will also be filled with adamantium armor plates.

For the Catachans I tried the same type of armor, but the silly jungle savages preferred thin tank tops, to show off muscles and tattoos.

If my destination was under attack, like the astropaths claimed, then as every Forge World the climate would not sustain jungles, or even breathing.

Some sort of Krieg type of covering might be needed. For the combat servitors as well.

I launched a final duty into the new concubine and ran for the shower and then the ship's armory. Like I suspected, there wasn't enough Flak material for a million servitors. Not even for 100 thousand.

Barely 90 thousands sets of coveralls could be made, just enough for my new jungle regiments. Those Ryza tech-priests in charge of logistics possibly didn't even consider protecting the servitors against bullets or harsh weather.

"Can we craft more plasteel plates for at least 100 thousand combat servitors?" I asked in a tired breath.

Majoris blinked and blurted some binharic to his enginseers. "Perhaps 20 thousand suits, with what we have on board. Also, I suggest we do not waste precious adamantium on mere servitors, Captain. At most, a thousand solid shields for the first ranks to board an enemy ship. When they die, those behind them can be programmed to pick up the fallen shield and advance."

I thought for a minute and agreed. Forge Shenlong will probably replenish the dead servitors anyway, and we also had a lot of them right now.

"Good enough then. And we need to craft adamantium weapons for the Ogryn. The shaft can be as thin as we can get away with, or even better, hollow. But the head has to be an Aquila with two heads, like a double axe. We can stamp a simple pattern, right?"

I wondered without thinking too much.

"As you say, Captain. I would recommend stamped armor plates as well, if you want to be ready when the fleet arrives." the tech priest replied, producing a sampling box with plates of various quality of add-on armor.

Sure, the hand crafted models looked great and would likely be more resilient, but I wasn't going to a ball.

"Pretty looking plates for officers, and stamped plates for everyone else. Perhaps even for your own tech-priests, if they are part of the boarding teams. Their knowledge should not be lost to accident." I ordered and turned around, bouncing off a grinning Astartes.

"I'm not an officer, Lord Pef. Just a meager Sergeant." he complained like a child.

Well, he did have a point. "Fine. Pretty stuff for sergeants too!" I yelled and saw Ludvaius holding his thumb up for success.

Damn man child. He had power armor already and the fancy shield that could block tank fire.

I continued my march to check the bridge then the Gellar generators. The Armed Sentinels tracked my approach, and the void marines confirmed my identity twice before I could inspect my own damn ship.

But I wouldn't change those orders, and even instructed the marines to shoot anyone looking like me, without an Astartes bodyguard with him.

Shapeshifters were possible after all, and losing the Gellar fields inside the Warp to a saboteur wouldn't be quite healthy.

"You think the Angel would return if we call, my lord?" Ludvaius asked in a reverent voice as I turned off the stasis field for another check on my family and friends, here in the future.

"I'm certain he will, my friend. Already the transformation has reached my shoulder. In a few years, we will be brothers, by blood" I mused out loud, then focused on Gyron.

"Hello, mentor. It is Pef. The Space Wolves gave me a puppy." I began my mental link. Always start the connection with something true but seeming absurd. My mentor knew me quite well.

"Why am I not that surprised, my pupil? I take it you saved Forge Ryza by accident. Or so my Archmagos said in the last dispatch." Gyron replied seeming amused.

This wasn't quite right. Accidents don't shoot people. "We didn't fire lances and torpedoes by accident, dear tech-priest. But we were lucky to emerge from Warp at an advantageous angle."

"Yes, yes. Lucky as always, young Pef. I am returning to Antax, even though the Exploration at Anvilus is still ongoing, with a new leader. You know why?" he asked me a bit rhetorically.

"I suspect because the Lament is finished upgrading and Antax has sufficient ships for a bigger expedition. And you are an Explorer Magos now." I replied curtly. I didn't dare blurt out words like STC over a long distance call.

"I see you're learning. Sorry again for Justine, although I say it was worth it. It's rare that a mortal can strike such a deadly blow to the Enemy." he added as a parting gift.

He was right, of course. It still hurt, and the Chaos would still corrupt others. Plus I wasn't fully certain the serpent was dead. Too many Chaos Champions had been resurrected by their patrons.

Then I decided to take a risk, minor as it may be.

I searched for a certain Necron world, til I located Solemnace and then Trazyn the Infinite.

"Quick question, Necron Lord. Is your Fulgrim getting stronger?" I asked with a cautious mental transmission.

In a few seconds, a mental image of the Necron mage appeared in my mind. "Oh? Someone has figured out how to operate the ancient Sender?"

I shrugged mentally. "Is that your important question you desire as a trade?"

"I suppose not. My Fulgrim, huh? So the Serpent Daemon is dead? Or is that how you can be certain?" the ancient lich wondered to himself.

I decline to answer, because I knew there will be a big trade to follow.

"Paranoid...but I like it. Let me check...conversion...stasis...there! Measuring psychic output...now this is peculiar. Half of his soul has grown indeed. I'd say the original has been split...and now the power is returning to the familiar body. I wonder what kind of weapon can split a soul in two." he mused to himself, while no doubt examining his Fulgrim clone with arcane devices.

"I'm getting tired, Necron Lord. Ask me the question." I demanded more abruptly.

"Right! A fair trade, even after learning the answer. We should really meet one day. Wait, my question. How did you know about me?" he asked in a rather self-serving manner.

"You were defending Cadia, when the Black Crusade cracked the planet apart. The pilons worked as well. You were just too late. Too hesitant, even after the galaxy broke in two." I answered with a sad voice.

"I see now. You're trying to make me act. Not your puppet, whoever you are!" the Necron complained half mad.

I thought for a minute. "You did act Trazyn. And you will act again. Last time...you were alone. I'll see what rare item I can offer. Hmmm. A C'tan shard...nah. You should have one already. Astartes...you have too many anyway. How about a Daemon Primarch?

Nah..Fulgrim...wait..the Tau have this chronoblade. Can make anyone immortal. But you are already...I don't know. Maybe some Dark Eldar stuff? Nice things are hard to find." I muttered in a rambling kind of way.

"No, wait! There is such thing as a chronoblade? The Tau are too backwards to invent something of that level. A C'tan shard is valuable too. And that Primarch...you have the other Fulgrim? We should really trade. I rarely find anything nice." Trazyn demanded a bit more eager.

I smiled inward. The hook was deeply caught.

"Don't call me, I'll call you. But you'll know me easily when we meet. I have a puppy." I sent with some effort and ended the call.

Then I engaged the stasis field again, and went to bed.

The puppy jumped on my left arm and went to sleep as well. Good senses on that wolf.

I continued my normal schedule, crafting fake STCs, making babies and inspecting the troops. Taking the puppy with me made me more popular, for some strange reason.

His name was now Canis, the High Gothic for dog. Keeping things simple worked best, and I had enough balls in the air to juggle already

The second our fleet translated into real space, sensors and auguries switched to autistic mode. Then, we burned plasma at maximum and turned away, as exactly above us there were a dozen of the famous Universe-class mass conveyors, only decorated with the hated spikes of Chaos.

I had 10 destroyers and 8 corvettes, and my slightly more durable Canticle.

But closer in system there was the siege fleet from Ghalmek, the Dark Mechanicus Hellforge in the Maelstrom.

Of course, we didn't simply run away. We had torpedoes and were not afraid to use them.

One by one, the new Los Angeles-pattern destroyers launched their ship killing salvos, each of them aimed at a different troop transport. For no doubt, these were the Titans, daemon engines and other dark machine transport vessels, with the needed ammunition and fuel and food and everything else a force expecting to besiege a Forge World would need.

The Canticle and the corvettes unloaded on the eleventh conveyor, torpedoes and lance batteries, bombardment cannons and Volcano lance batteries.

The Los Angeles destroyers simply turned at 90 degrees to allow their own batteries to fire, and then the explosions began, first the chaos flak batteries firing too late at our torpedoes, then the torpedoes striking the enemy void shields, then the hull and finally the reactor and munition depots.

Eleven new suns appeared at Shenlong, far behind the gas giant. The explosions were so powerful we lost our void shields even this far away, and the Ion Shields barely saved us. Somehow, the corvettes got away easy, riding the shockwaves like leaves in a storm. The destroyers suffered worse, and reports of massive damage filled the clan's vox channel.

The Canticle was shaken so strongly that I had to use my armor's servomotors to hold on to the command chair, and many bridge officers were flung out of their seats.

It would have been nasty in the lower decks, but I didn't have time to pity the serfs and servitors right now.

"Torpedo room, time to reload?" I asked in a command voice.

"Captain...full reload estimated at 714 minutes with current effectives. Most of the gunnery crews and some enginseers are wounded or dead." the voice replied on the vox. Not the usual torpedo guy as well.

Must be really messy in there, torpedoes bouncing around and crushing people.

"Understood, help will arrive soon. Meanwhile, load only the vortex warhead in the sealed cell - Rho 0888. Not the other one!" I shouted in the vox box.

"Roger that, Captain! Vortex not bicycle warhead, aye." the voice answered seeming amused if also in pain.

I almost sighed and glared at Majoris.

He waved a few tentacles to show he was sorry for gossiping. Or make fun of me.

"Replacement servitors and a hundred tech-priests and medics to torpedo room. Lance batteries repairs secondary. Engines and shields tertiary. The rest can wait." I demanded while checking damage on my bridge.

Broken bones and lacerations weren't too bad.

The woman at long range auspex console was dead. Neck broken, seemed like.

My ship's escorts began speeding away, trying to enter the huge cargoships dead-weapon zone in the aft.

I had some distant uncle in command of those destroyer escorts, and he knew his job. Cripple the engines and we could come back later to finish them off.

The Chaos behemoth still had engine power, but was very slow to turn, due to starting from an immobile position.

The Canticle still had our last vector, aiming us outward. We wouldn't have 12 hours for my vortex torpedo to be loaded, even with the injured behemoth failing to turn yet.

"Air wing, any fighter operational right now?" I asked without much hope.

"No fighters for a few hours, Captain. There's an intact shuttle though. Somehow." the wing commander answered after a few moments.

It would have to do.

"Prepare it for vortex deployment. We have a 12 kilometers-long Chaos ship just above us." I spoke and glanced at Ludvaius.

He showed me 4 fingers, which I didn't know what...nevermind.

Just act, don't think. I was doing fine then.

I leaned back and scrolled through the howling Machine Spirit's demands for fury and vengeance. The Gellar field was broken. There would be no retreat then.

"In death ground: fight!" I said softly, and immediately the bridge became quiet.

"You wish us to board that conveyor, Captain?" Wentian asked in near horror.

"They have a Titan Legion aboard, Wentian. We have one Knight." I replied shaking my head. A single shuttle too.

Perhaps that Legion was not complete or fully operational, but it wouldn't matter.

I switched the vox channel back to the flight deck. "ETA on the shuttle?"

"We're moving sir. Perhaps one hour, maybe two." the man replied in a suffering voice.

The Canticle ran the calculations for me. One hour would work, two hours...would be probably too late.

Damn my luck.

Uncle Jorias began firing at the conveyor soon after, and one engine blew up after some 10 minutes of intense low damage fire from all the escorts. Then again, one engine on that monster was larger than a destroyer.

Our timer grew, adding more lifetime for the ship.

"Auspex scans detected, Captain. They might be preparing to teleport aboard. Our Ion Shield cannot prevent transdimensional transports." Majoris announced from his own console.

Ludvaius stepped closer to me, one hand on his bolter.

Thrasius just leaned on the wall and seemed relaxed.

Very well then. A bitter fight it was. "Battlestations! Prepare to receive boarders. Deploy armored units in hallways. Snipers, report to armory for phased ammunition."

If those Chaos marines or sorcerers dared to come, I was slightly prepared now. Phase-iron tipped bolter rounds would ruin their fancy Ruinous Powers.

My skin tingled as something deflected from the Refractor Shield up into the ceiling.

A single shot from Thrasius and the assassin melted into burning goo. Astartes were great, if they were watching my back.

"You may begin praying, everyone. This will be slightly unpleasant." I commanded just us the first lance battery came online.

With my eyes closed, I guided the Canticle to fire towards the opening hangar doors on the conveyor. Something exploded inside, then something else. I fired again, just to make sure.

A bigger explosion, and the void filled with burning daemon fighters and melted armors.

Another engine exploded from our escorts, and I decided to call the corvettes back as a protective screen.

The timing would be close, but even just the destroyers would suffice to cripple a few more engines.

But if a horde of fighters and bombers arrived, the Canticle would be in more trouble.

"Teleports detected around the engine and reactor rooms. Sentinels and Hydras have engaged the enemy." the tech-priest announced with a dispassionate voice.

Well, the reactor would be an obvious target. And that's why I had armor posted there.

"Navigator quarters under attack. And...it's over. Lord Holburn is a pyrokinetic as well." the Magos reported somewhat amused.

Although we had guards posted there too, in truth a Navigator with skill was worth a dozen tanks, at once.

"Medical quarters now. Lady Helena has good aim with that heavy bolter. Lady Catherine sings louder than the roar of a heavy flamer. And our sweet Catachans have wired the door with a melta bomb." Majoris said with a tiny snort.

Even Ludvaius chuckled a little, then swung his Power Maul at something invisible. The squelch of broken bones and crushed organs informed me he did not miss.

Another melta gun shot incinerated the remains before they reformed.

Then all the lance batteries sprang back up, and I began enjoying the battle a little more. The Canticle fired furiously, starting fires and explosions onto the exposed Chaos conveyor, hangars and barracks being lit up with continent erasing beams.

If this could last, just our numerous batteries would be sufficient to ignite the whole ship.

I tried, I really did. Fuel depots, munitions bunkers, fighter bays. I targeted anything that could propagate farther inward.

But just as my destroyers blew up another engine on the conveyor, its void shield came back up.

I held fire now, and simply waited for my corvettes to get in formation, then fired sporadically at any opening.

But whoever was in charge of the enemy transport wasn't stupid. He gathered more forces, and launched a big wave of bombers and assault shuttles.

The Canticle marked the bombers as more dangerous, but I disagreed. Torture for eternity was a worse fate than a fiery death.

I marked the landers for priority defense and began picking them off a dozen at a time.

The corvettes fired on the bombers instead, using point defense or main batteries as fast as possible.

Huge melta bombs fell towards my ship, but there had to have been entire regiments in those landers. I was almost worth it.

With a lurch, our engine came online and we accelerated, then our void shield came back as well. I urged the ship in a high energy turn, dodging most of the bombs or leaving them behind.

"Teleport diverted in our wake. Oh. It was something big...too bad it will intersect that melta bomb..." Majoris commented like it was a gladiator match.

Already fried by our plasma engines, that titanic winged construct took a melta bomb straight on and burst into hellish flames.

I urged the Canticle to finish it off, and with 10 lances it died, sending a pulse of Warp energies and screaming souls outward in a huge nova.

"Was that thing someone familiar?" I asked to make sure.

"Yes, Lord Pef. That was Lorgar, the Primarch of the Word Bearers Traitors." Ludvaius told me with a pat on my head.

I sighed inward.There was a Daemon Prince howling for my blood now. Or will be, as soon as he got respawned back in Hell.

"Lorgar wasn't so tough." I declared in a small voice. Really, he died like in 2 seconds. I kinda expected a Primarch to be stronger.

"Captain, the shuttle is ready to launch!" the flight deck declared loudly, as the bridge was kinda silent for some reason.

"Blow their reactor, and try not to die" I ordered the pilot.

"Sure thing daddy. By the way, I skinned my elbow earlier. Learn how to drive a damn ship!" my daughter Larrisa admonished me, with the whole bridge listening.

I sobbed and leaned back in my chair. My reputation was ruined now

s soon as the vortex missile hit the Chaos mass conveyor, its reactor exploded and split the immense troop transport in two, opening up a warp rift much too wide for such a small warhead.

Damn Warp shenanigans.

I ordered the escorts to fire on the rift, while my lance batteries scoured the unprotected hulk and its furiously screaming cargo.

Chaos Titans, Baneblades, Chaos Knights, Land Raiders, entire Chaos marines Companies, millions of traitor guardsmen, cultists and thousands of corrupted types of Mechanicus automata.

It was a shooting gallery, with row after row of carefully placed miniatures of every deck. And that ship had a thousand decks.

My lance batteries had battlecruiser strength, like all the Overlord-class battlecruisers, but it still took hours to vaporize all the contents of that ship, while my escorts struggled to close the rift and defend the Canticle from emerging demons.

Meanwhile, I had the small Gellar generators from the Stormbirds removed and placed in key locations to protect vital areas from those demons that survived the escort fire.

Nearly everyone on board had to fight or at least support someone shooting at the boarding demons, my Ogryns and the Armed Sentinel walkers providing the bulk of the melee defense, and the Catachans, the servitors and the tech-priests forming the second line of defense.

Majoris had gone to fix the main Gellar generator, with more high-ranking Mechanicus priests and a spare astropath. The poor guy did not return, and I wouldn't even ask what the Tech-priests did with his flesh and soul. Still, an improvised Gellar field sprang back over the Canticle an hour later, so it was worth it.

The crew and regiment losses grew once more, and my heart broke, because my void marine concubines had been killed defending the nursery, alongside many of the Catachan concubines who were superb warriors as well.

The Blank aura of my concubines and the few Blank babies helped them resist long enough for a Catachan battalion to arrive with flame throwers and melta guns, saving the kids and more than half of my harem.

Someone or something must have been quite irate with me, to target my kids, born or unborn.

A dozen times Canis alerted the defenders to the presence of a sneakier demon, crawling through a vent or phasing through a wall.

When Majoris returned to the bridge, I had a solution already. Not all the phase-iron had been used to create phased ammunition.

"Majoris, I have a hundred kilograms of phase-iron in the vault, could you turn that into a metal mesh and glue it to the ship's walls?"

The Magos blinked and stared into the void, considering my request. "I could, Lord Pef. But I don't have the tools or the time for such a finesse and consuming enterprise. Slicing off a centimeter for a bolter round is very different from spooling micron thin wires for a mesh. Perhaps a rough job, millimeter thin wires and repurposing the flak armor knitting device, with a thousand hours of holy litanies and data sequencing."

"Okay, this is not urgent, as there is a Gellar field over us right now. But as you saw, combat damage is unpredictable, and I want to be prepared for the next time." I answered him, then concentrated back on the damned Warp rift, with all the Canticle's batteries.

Just before the rift closed, one of the damaged destroyers turned and accelerated away without notice. "Escorts, immobilize and board the defector!" I ordered at once.

"...Stay away...countdown...for the Emperor!" a crackling voice emerged from the vox box on the bridge, then the infested destroyer started powering up its Warp engine.

"Open fire, all batteries!" I yelled and urged the Canticle to track mutineer and fire.

The outward rift opened and a thousand white tendrils emerged from it, capturing the doomed warship and withstanding our lance batteries for too long, drawing the destroyer into the Warp.

I've heard of such creatures, called Enslavers. Denizens of the Immaterium, they followed conflict and preyed on injured vessels, just like now.

Possibly another nice gift left by the Old Ones, just like the Orks and other exotic races crafted to fight the C'tan and the Necrons.

A salvo of plasma rounds from the corvettes ignited the Enslaver while my lances closed the rift, shearing the giant creature in half. Then the destroyer's reactor detonated, and the huge plasma and shrapnel fireball scorched the Enslaver to the bone, leaving only a dozen meter-long and quite thin bones floating listless. I wasn't sure how it could work, but it seemed in realspace the creature was much smaller than inside the Warp. Its bones would be very valuable though.

"Flight bridge, prepare a shuttle for me." I spoke on the dedicated vox channel, and glanced at Ludvaius.

"I can go collect those Enslaver bones for you, Captain." he uttered with a frown.

"I know you could, Astartes. But I am immune to the Warp...and you're not. Perhaps that phase-iron mesh could be inserted inside your armor or under your skin, one day." I mused in a thoughtful voice.

Majoris glanced from me to my bodyguard and back. "Let's not get ahead that far, my lords. We don't even have a simple mesh, let alone an organic compatible bio-upgrade. Though it would be quite thin and durable, even at micron size. Astartes biology is also very different and it might reject such an implant...or interfere with the Black Carapace."

Right, not something we could do hastily aboard a damaged ship anyway.

Using a disposable pilot servitor, I flew out and collected the bones with my power armor serving as space suit, finding them too heavy and resisting movement with my right hand, but easy to wave around with my blessed left hand.

Were they bending gravity somehow? My left hand was only three times stronger, not a hundred times. More weird Warp magic.

After we docked back on the Canticle, I tested the bone's effectiveness on the pilot, and found out the Enslaver bone worked quite similar to a Power Weapon, crushing the cyborg as easily as crumbling a newspaper. With that, the risk of a Warp infiltration into the exposed pilot was also eliminated.

So I went to have a chat with the resident psyker on my ship, the Navigator. He kept me waiting a minute, then emerged dressed in red and black robes, ornated with glowing runes, and wearing a necklace with the Imperial Aquila on it, only the eagle's eyes were glowing gold.

I've seen other Navigators, but this guy seemed very rich. Maybe richer than me. I didn't have holy relics to wear around.

"Lord Hulburn, excellent job with the Warp emergence. We caught the traitors with their pants down" I began, praising his skill from the start.

The man muttered something and avoided looking at me. "Not my doing, Captain. The Warp currents shifted a second before we emerged. Like an invisible hand pushed the fleet into the right place and time."

So it had been a turn of fate, like I suspected. "Anyways, good job frying the pests that assailed your quarters. Now, what can you tell me about this Enslaver bone?" I asked, holding the bone for inspection.

"Leave it in mid-air, Captain and step aside. Your aura is distorting my readings." he demanded.

I did as asked, and the bone remained floating parallel to the deck. The Navigator opened his third eye and gazed at the bone, taking care not to look at me.

"A young Empyrean, not yet a million years old. Stupid too, by the looks of it. Hunting alone, without a pack. The bone can be used for weapons or maybe a mind shield, if you find a tech-priest with the right knowledge, or maybe a bonesinger Eldar. There is one in the system already, aboard that cruiser shadowing us." Lord Hulburn explained in patient voice.

This guy must be really skilled, to discern so many things with only a minute-long reading. Then again, battlecruisers were rare and expensive. Made sense Ryza hired a good Navigator for the Canticle.

"I see. And what happened on that destroyer, can you tell me?" I wondered with a smaller voice.

"The Empyrean was hunting and found a silly Navigator without proper mental defenses. The rest is rather tedious, gruesome and terrible to divulge. But you have handled the crisis well, Captain. I wish you good fortune when you engage the siege fleet at Shenlong." the Navigator muttered in a slightly less upset voice, and entered his shielded quarters again.

"Wait...is it safe to carry around?" I muttered in a dejected voice.

"Go away Captain. Your luck makes me sick to the stomach." came a shout from inside the shielded rooms.

Alright then. Probably safe on my person, but would need a specialist to convert it into a proper artifact.

And the damned Eldar were keeping an eye on Forge Shenlong, waiting for something to happen. Something other than my unexpected arrival. Someone else would be coming.

Knowing my luck, it could be a Navy fleet, another Inquisitor or an entire Space Marine Chapter.

So I grabbed the floating bone then I returned to the shuttle hangar and collected all the bones under my left arm, and deposited them in my adamantium armored vault, for another day.

Then a feeling alerted me. Almost like...

"Come out Ludvaius." I said gently, and my bodyguard emerged from a hidden corner.

"Good. You're learning, Lord Pef." he exclaimed with a slight snort. It wasn't just that. I knew he would be near.

Either my brain jumped a few scales and reached Inquisitor levels, or the blood connected us more than it seemed.

"I felt you, my friend. We are close to that empathic amplifier here." I mused to myself, and headed towards the torpedo room to check the damage and repair progress.

"You too?" he answered in surprise.

"Is it the same with other Blood Angels?" I asked curious.

"A little bit, yes. Nothing this tangible, not even with the Chapter Master or the Librarians." he admitted with a frown.

"But the feeling is stronger when there are more you present?" I asked just before reaching the torpedo room door, and got my identity checked again.

"Right! Just like that...the entire second Company would feel similar. How did you know?" he asked in surprise.

I just shook my head. I didn't know, but I suspected. Well, now I knew, after Ludvaius confirmed his own experience. The Blood Angels were coming to Shenlong.

It made sense, as Forge Worlds did depend on rapid Astartes deployments for defense. Same thing happened with Antax, Estaban and Ryza.

Inside the torpedo room, there were no more wounded or corpses, as the Mechanicus made use of organic tissues for every machinery. Servitors and Machine Spirits, the victims would keep serving the Omnissiah, even in death.

Probably for the best, considering what the afterlife was, around here.

The Eldar used a similiar approach, with their Infinity Circuits, becase having your soul enter the Warp would mean eternal torture or worse.

"Captain! We will be fully loaded and prepared to fire in an hour! Excuse the mess and the blood spatter." A jovial enginseer exclaimed as he spotted me inspecting the damaged walls and conveyor belts.

I nodded and patted his shoulder. "You're in charge here. But, no more bicycle rumors." I whispered in fake secrecy.

The man grinned and wiped his greasy hands on a dirty towel. "I heard you killed a traitor Primarch, Captain?" he asked a bit too loud and patted my own armored shoulder.

I shrugged. "His demon wings didn't help. I just shot Lorgar a few times and he exploded. The flesh is weak."

The tech-priests around began chanting praises to Omnissiah and showerd me with santified oil.

"Hah! You hear that, crew! The flesh is weak...hahaha. Now back to work and stop gawking at the Captain! We have more traitors to kill!" the man yelled then pointed at his stuppefied engineers and gun crew.

They all rushed back to work, so this guy will work well enough as Torpedo Master.

Ludvaius chuckled and escorted me outside. "I admit, I was skeptical when you became my charge, Lord Pef. But I feel you'll be doing fine. Not that many Primarchs might survive once you grow up a bit."

I grit my teeth. "I'm not a puppy! Canis is the puppy." I muttered in defeat and accepted another head pat

Cleaning up the void of infectious or tainted hull bits and machine parts took us another day, and my destroyers were tasked to push the larger fragments onto a trajectory leading into the Sun.

Emergency systems repair or crew limb replacements continued throughout the fleet, and I was glad for having so many tech-priests and servitors on board, ready to donate the missing limb to a much more valuable crew or guardsman.

I also had to stop my regular schedule and invigorate the ship with visits and rousing speeches. Morale was important, even more so when fighting the Chaos.

But we did emerge victorious against overwhelming odds, and the escorts were somewhat re-supplied from the Canticle's torpedo stores.

Easy to do for the corvettes, as only 2 of them carried torpedo tubes, the rest using plasma cannons. We didn't have 270 torpedoes to supply all the destroyers, but I managed to provide 6 torpedoes to each of them.

More than a regular Cobra-pattern had, anyway.

A squadron of fighters was also repaired and prepared for launch, and a host of other departments got some tech-priest care, like the medical ward, kitchens and sensors.

"Fleet effectiveness at 65 percent, Captain. We can start our attack run if you wish, though the traitors will be aware and prepared for us." Wentian pronounced as I returned to my Captain seat.

"Magos, see that safety belts are installed on the bridge seats and other critical areas. We don't have many expendable crew left." I demanded, pointing at Majoris.

The Tech-priest turned to look at the auspex console, where a flight cadet had replaced the dead officer.

"Very wise, Captain. It will be done, using flak jacket material for the belts. Bridge first, of course." he answered with a flurry of binharic commands to his subordinate priests.

"Permission to flare our long range auguries?" the cadet asked in a timid voice.

I thought for a second, then denied it. "Don't want to scare off the Eldar. They might provide a distraction for the Great Enemy."

In this, every species in the galaxy were allies of necessity. Necrons, Tyranids or Eldar, even Orks, the Dark Eldar and the Tau. Everyone shot at Chaos first, if they had any common sense.

Of course, they would shoot at humans just as well, but perhaps after the Enemy had been vanquished.

The Imperium lacked such common sense, and often targeted everyone at the same time, proving a lack of critical thinking among most Admirals, Inquisitors and Astartes. The Rogue Traders were a different breed, and were slightly more reluctant to shoot at someone they may need to trade with.

We began a series of short bursts of acceleration and course changes, to deny the invaders a proper vector to intercept my fleet.

Sure, I intended to arrive behind the Chaos fleet and enact surprise suppository treatment, but they saw us from half a system away, and were quite wary, since we did blow up the landing forces.

So, a segment of their fleet detached from the besieging orbit, and moved to intercept, a whole battleship, 3 cruisers and 20 destroyers.

But retreat wasn't an option, as it would leave the Forge World at their mercy, and a new landing army could always arrive from the nearby Maelstrom.

"When encircled, use stratagems." I said in a calm voice, and looked around the bridge.

Nobody said anything, too used at getting amazing victory plans from their Captain.

"Ask the Eldar for help?" the cadet muttered in a shaky voice.

I sighed audibly and leaned back. "Doesn't work like that, my young friend. You show weakness, they kill you. But, perhaps providing them with an opportunity for glory will work. Their ship captains are just as idiotic as the Navy." I answered while thinking hard how to achieve that.

The Eldar would prefer to stalk from above the planetary plane, so if I sent the fleet downwards, the Chaos ships would expose their engines to Eldar fire, by turning their front and prow armor towards us.

"Torpedo corvettes, stop accelerating and swing around to strike from our right." I ordered with a sad voice. It will probably mean their deaths, two corvettes with 4 torpedoes.

"Roger that, Captain Pef. Opportunity fire or designated targets?" a cousin of mine spoke on the vox, as the two ships fell behind.

"It will depend on what the enemy does. But a cruiser or two crippled will be the best result I can expect." I said and turned the vox channel off.

Then I turned to see Wentian gone pale and clenching his fists. Oh, that guy was his son...nasty business.

"Don't worry Wentian. We will all die, one day. But how we die is what matters. It is the strength of humanity, to draw power from sacrifice" I told him gently.

The old veteran sighed and began breathing a bit calmer. "Yes, Captain. But perhaps not today."

"Perhaps not today. But all men die." I concluded on a somber tone.

Majoris immediately proved his common sense. "But the Machine is immortal. Only the flesh is weak."

I chuckled at his words, although they were rather true. Trazyn, the Necron Lord was living proof of his faith. Not that I contemplated that approach yet. Perhaps the Eldar way, if I could one day get access to the right circuits.

Saving your soul and getting reborn on a new Path seemed rather nice, compared to necrodermis or the Machine Spirits of the Mechanicus.

Then again...humanity already had its own immortality path, joining the Emperor's Angels or his Legion of the Damned.

On the ship's holoscreen the autistic auguries reported the Chaos fleet splitting off again, sending a cruiser and two destroyers after the sacrificial offering.

"Task force 2, dive and force them to turn." I provided my order to the few torpedo corvettes, while the Canticle Spirit murmured prayers and vectors for every ship in the fleet, directly into my mind.

"Jorvis, begin dive with your escorts now." I demanded from my uncle.

The Canticle kept accelerating in a slightly zig-zag manner, until we reached torpedo range with the Chaos Battleship.

"Torpedo room, full salvo and secure yourself for aftershocks. Yellow alert, entire ship." I ordered as our battlecruiser lurched from losing the mass of the departing torpedoes.

We didn't have more vortex torpedoes, but just this one should be sufficient if it wasn't intercepted.

And since the leading enemy admiral has split off his Chaos destroyers to engage my own, he wouldn't have much chance of an intercept.

Indeed, the leading 5 plasma torpedoes were shot down too early, but we could launch 8 at one time.

Their void shield faltered for a second as 2 capital class torpedoes struck in head on, and the vortex torpedo passed through the flaw and detonated at the impact with the battleship's hull.

Immediately, a large Warp rift emerged and devoured half the enemy battleship, setting fires and infesting it with more demons.

The Canticle began to slowly veer around, trying to find a spot where we could fire without getting mauled by the surviving batteries on the battleship.

At this moment, the auspex sensors flared in warning.

"Xeno holofield scrambled high above our transversal plane. We detect energy emissions. Eldar lances!" the cadet yelled in excitement.

I just nodded and focused on my task, waiting for another torpedo salvo to reload and the lance batteries of the Canticle to get into effective range.

"Objective achieved, Lord Pef. Engines to full!" my cousin shouted victoriously on the vox, as his target was hit by 3 torpedoes and the Eldar lances finished it off.

"Targeting enemy cruisers. Torpedoes away. Executing high energy turn!" my uncle Jorvis added as his escorts unloaded their own surprise gifts on the Chaos cruisers.

My escorts were all running away now, with 20 Chaos destroyers chasing after their blood and souls.

"Transmission incoming from Eldar cruiser, Captain. Allow vox or pict?" the hymnal officer asked with a suspicious voice.

"Negative, on that. Don't want us involved with any Eldar plots." I answered in a level voice, and Ludvaius growled in approval.

"Teleport detected and redirected, Captain. Is that traitor shooting us with a bolter?" Majoris said in disbelief.

I glanced at the holoscreen to see the Chaos Astartes receive a warm greeting from an escort corvette, with a few Volcano Lances that would even damage Titans.

The idiot was not wearing a Titan though.

"Not anymore." I said wisely and began firing the lances at the half-battleship wreck.

Then a few seconds later, a flurry of explosions marked the detonations of the torpedoes launched by the Los Angeles destroyers, forming a pretty blue constellation and even damaging a couple enemy destroyers that ventured too close.

"Well done, destroyers. Form up in pattern Delta on the Canticle. Volcano corvettes, dive and engage the pursuit from behind." I commanded while keeping an eye on the torpedo reload time.

Another lance volley and another, all hit the enemy, scouring the adamantium armor and melting the macrobatteries of the battleship.

Unlike cannons, lances were near instant weapons at shorter range, and we almost never missed.

The reload was slower though, but we wouldn't need ammunition. Lances were still better, in my opinion.

But I should try to obtain some Nova Cannons. If only a Forge World would be generous enough. Nobody was till now.

"Captain, we have loaded the last 6 torpedoes. Well, except the pretty one with golden words on it." the head enginseer reported in a wry voice.

Not calling it a bicycle was an improvement already.

I leaned back and consulted with the Machine Spirit. We could spare 2 torpedoes for the enemy destroyers, and use 4 right now. So I did.

The Chaos battleship cracked and ruptured into the void, and another lance volley ignited something important, as it went boom with roaring flames and psychic screams.

"They had a ritual going, my lord. We stopped it just in time." Ludvaius muttered in pain, and I turned my head to see him bleeding from his eyes.

"Silly traitors. I could have bagged another Great Demon or something. They were too slow!" I complained petulantly, for morale.

Captain Thrasius laughed and slapped his knee in mirth, and soon enough the entire bridge crew joined him in hoots and laughter.

"We are in position, Captain Pef. Enemy destroyers in pursuit." my uncle announced on the vox.

"Break off in pattern Beta. Then wait for the explosions." I said as the Canticle left skidmarks on the void, turning the ship's bow towards the pursuers and flying backwards by inertia.

And...launch. The servitor guided torpedoes stuck two destroyer squadrons head on and vaporized two small targets, also collapsed the voidshields of the nearby enemies.

Then my fleet started firing our direct beam weapons, popping one Chaos destroyer after another, with the corvettes supporting from behind, targeting engines and their exposed backsides.

The Eldar cruiser flashed by and scored a few more kills then vanished under a cloak of illusions and fake augury returns.

I decided to ignore it for now, as I had bigger fish to fry