Chapter 9 - 81-89

ith fuel and supplies running low, I decided it was time to return from our hunt, just as the second year of the war came about.

In my fleet's wake there were 20 burned out Ork planets, plus 2 Chaos fleets pulverized by Macross-style torpedo volleys, and their wrecks pushed into suns.

Almost 1000 vessels captured, half of them transports of smaller size and mining barges, a few factory ships and nearly 400 warships including the Overlord battlecruiser and 5 Grand Cruisers, then 83 Ork ships including one ironclad battleship and a dozen Kroozers.

Only half of what I had hoped to achieve with my campaign, but the local pirates wouldn't simply stay put where I first located them from Sotha, and allow me to capture them, instead hiding into deeper parts of the Maelstrom.

Even worse, various Astartes forces started shadowing my fleet, Salamanders and Scorpions and even Star Phantoms and Fire Hawks.

I did keep a smoke screen of 200 smaller ships around, and kept buying fuel and torpedoes by the thousand, so this might have raised alarm bells, especially with so much traitor activity going around.

Someone must have tipped-off the pirates too, because too often we arrived to find pirate ports and holdouts deserted.

My fleet was fast, but astropath messages were faster.

Even worse, the Astral Claws had still not been completely vanquished, their Master of the Forge and many of his techmarines along with some escorts and one cruiser managed to avoid my fleet and all pursuit from all the hunting forces, which was eerie and not a good sign.

On board the capital vessels we had captured were 117 Atmospheric Incendiary torpedoes and 4 cyclonic ones, plus a dozen vortex torpedoes and even 3 biological Exterminatus virus warheads.

The captured Battle Barge at Badab had 6 more virus warheads, which the Biologis Magi from Forge Ryza were allowed to retrieve. Better not make a scandal out of that, as I had my own samples now, hidden in a pocket dimension.

Luckily, due to the presence of my Blood Angels nobody could claim my starfort and the barge, although it was certain many Navy and Astartes Captains would have wanted to.

So we returned to Badab, and began the tedious task of dealing with tithes and splitting of loot, and then recovering my occupation troops. This time Badab wasn't completely burned down, only half of it, perhaps due to my Catachans and their armored forces moving fast to capture key factories and a couple Hive cities.

The loyal Astartes were out for blood though, and assaulted Hive Dominar and the Palace of Thorns fortress-monastery with overwhelming force, leaving only burning buildings and shattered bodies. In their defense, the Astral auxiliaries and their Aspirants fought to the last, using advanced weapons like conversion beamers and plasma cannons, which caused many casualties towards Astartes Chapters such as Carcharodons or the Exorcists.

A hundred times fewer loses than without my involvement, which probably ruined some well-crafted plans among the Great Enemy or the conflict stirring Inquisitors, or both.

From Badab, we simply tractored the Ramilies starfort with the Icarus to the nearby Forge Angstrom, a low level Forge, but enough for my needs.

The Astral Claws' Battle Barge made the jump by itself, having received emergency repairs from the Ryza tech-priests and my own tentacled engineers.

Can I say I was received with warmth and friendliness? Nope.

The Fabricator of Angstrom was exiled here from Forge Ryza for a reason, and it wasn't for his polite manners. I had to deploy my corvettes and parade them around, just to get an audience.

His spire was the most advanced piece of technology I have seen, from holofields and forcefields and auspex scanner of a dozen types, and really advanced skitarii weapons and armor. And that was only what I could see as a visitor. They had no Titans and Knight forges here, but made the best power armor available. No wonder the guy was so proud and independent. Everyone else needed him.

But then, I unloaded on him a hundred STC templates, and he switched gears, just like that.

"Rogue Trader Lancefire, you leave me at a loss, for words and actions too. This wealth of knowledge is priceless, and my Forge doesn't have anything that could repay you." the Fabricator said with a concerned voice and examined my space wolf again.

I was pretty sure nobody else had a real wolf from the Space Wolves themselves.

"Correct, but also not. You are in contact with the Lamenters, even providing them with power armor, weapons and gunships. It's them I want to save, before they join the traitor side in the Badab War. I can also fix their curse, like am I doing right now for the Blood Angels." I explained in a level voice, and patted my loyal Canis.

"I will not get involved in that stupid intra-Astartes conflict!" the Fabricator boomed in displeasure, his vox casters screeching with binary code.

I just sighed and opened my null box. "You will join Fabricator, and you know it too. Perhaps not yet, but it is inevitable. But I don't need military forces, since I am withdrawing my ships back into the Fringe. I need an Astartes Chapter, and the Lamenters need a home and relief from their gene curse. Also, relief from the bad luck which plagues them since their founding." I said gently as my Rosette blared with security codes and over-rides.

The Fabricator glanced inside my chest box and waved a few tentacles in annoyance. "Another Inquisitor in disguise? No wonder you get away with everything, Lord Lancefire! Okay, I will place an astropath call to the Lamenters. Nothing else?"

With a wide grin, I tapped the next dataslate. "Here is a warp-less drive template, just like Forge Ryza has. Same stuff that powers the Icarus fleet carrier. Also the strongest ship reactor in the Imperium. I need someone to work on this, miniaturize it for battlecruiser size. Someone with access to rare minerals from the Maelstrom Zone, and advanced knowledge of plasma technology. It will need angstrom-scale quality control, but this is the name of your Forge World, correct?"

The old tech-priest scanned the dataslate a dozen times, mechadendrites trembling in excitement. "It is possible after all. A Macharius-pattern space drive, found by the Saint himself?"

"A dozen Forge Worlds already have the ancient drive template, Fabricator. From my knowledge, an entire Crusade fleet was trapped in a Space Hulk, and then released somehow, with many ships having these templates hidden in the engine rooms. Also had those Macharius-pattern heavy tanks and the Armed Sentinels. Out in the Fringe, I have found a Macharius Vitrix battleship that Forge Retribution now works to restore." I explained with a patient smile.

Everything I said was true, from a certain point of view.

"Even so...this isn't a minor favor or even a great Favor. Do you need exclusive rights for the smaller drive, if we manage to miniaturize it? Your Trader Dynasty will become the richest in the Galaxy. Heavy cruisers and battlecruisers are a hundred times more numerous than battleships or fleet carriers. Everyone will have to buy it from you." the Magos suggested as an alternative payment.

"That could work. Let's say a contract for a 50 years exclusive production rights, you produce and sell them in my House's name. Firstly for the Inquisition Black ships, and then new Navy battlecruisers or Astartes Barges. But after that, the pressure for more warp-less drives will become too great, and we will have to release it to all Mechanicus Forges. I bet you don't want a Mars enforcement fleet coming here." I mused out loud.

The Fabricator was a very smart man. "Inquisition first, huh? That would block most demands right from the start. I don't know what kind of alloys will be needed to produce the same energy in a smaller volume. What about that Starfort?"

"It will be the base for my Fringe Astartes Chapter, like I told you. With a warp-less drive it will even be mobile...if very slow." I answered with a pleasant smile.

The Magos sighed audibly and opened a trade screen on his cogitator.

"See anything here that might interest you, Lord Lancefire?" he offered in a smaller voice.

I checked the screen with knowing eyes. "A hundred anti-grav gunships and a thousand Armored Sentinels. Perhaps a hundred Omega-pattern Macharius tanks, when you have time to build them."

"Please, Lord Pef. My Forge may be small but we're not poor. May I suggest 200 Fury Interceptors for your carrier and a dozen Baneblade tanks?" he offered in a pained voice.

I shook my head. "At most 100 Furies, Magos. They are too big and expensive to maintain. No fuel and ammo for regular Baneblades, not in the Eastern Fringe. Gift them to some Guard regiments on Armageddon, they sure need extra power." I proposed instead, knowing that firepower will make a huge difference and save millions of Guardsmen.

"What are those auspex-blocking plates on your Blood Angels armor?" he asked instead, pointing at a screen with my angelic bodyguards getting spied on by many tech-priests and servo-skulls.

"... That is what is called blackstone in the Fringe. Ten times more durable than ceramite, and even blocks most Warp phenomena like Sorcerer spells and curses. Forge Triplex Phall mines it by the megatonne from a mining planet called Mandragora. Ryza also uses it for Astartes armor now, probably after they saw how fast my Blood Angels captured that starfort and the traitor's barge" I said while tapping my own blackstone armor plates. Made sense to protect myself too, even if I was Blank.

"Very useful then...and any Astartes without this 'blackstone' armor will find themselves at disadvantage. Is that how you are suppressing the curse of your bodyguards?" he asked in a more interested tone.

"Partially. The rest is their Chapter secret and I won't go into it." I replied curtly, before faking a surprise thought. "Hmmm. I just had an idea. A thousand specialist tech-priests to train the Lamenters new techmarines, so they can maintain their equipment in the Fringe. Pretty much only Orks and Tyranids around, and scarce supplies. They would need to be self-sufficient."

"You're getting close to my final line with this. What if the Lamenters do not come?' he wondered curiously.

I smiled sweetly. "You did mention the curse, right? They will come, Fabricator. They will come running." My voice sounded convinced, although I had mere hope. The Lamenters were prone to Warp accidents, and might come very slowly.

"Woof!" Canis exclaimed in agreement.

I was getting more convinced every day that my wolf understood words just fine.

Of course, Warp travel takes very long sometimes.

We waited 2 years at Angstrom for the Lamenters to arrive. Thankfully, they didn't stop by Badab this time, and thus they should escape the century of persecution that would have followed.

Of course, Forge Angstrom uses this time to repair and upgrade my Starfort and new Battle Barge, and fill the corvettes and destroyers as well as the fort's torpedo bunkers with new torpedoes and the armories with tons of weapons and vehicles.

They give me a lot, in exchange for those priceless STCs. No money exchange hands though, because my actions around the Magog sector are now spoken of as the Lancefire Crusade, by some Administratum officials. The time is not wasted, not at all.

But when the Lamenters do come they all come, which makes some sense as they are a fleet-based chapter.

Two Battle Barges: Mater Lachrymarum and Daughter of Tempests, 9 cruisers, 22 escorts, a dozen support and supply ships and two more Mobile Forge ships.

Most excellent, although it is not enough. My own fleet before the Badab Crusade was larger than this.

A Lamenter delegation lands on my Icarus, including their Chapter Master, who doesn't seem too happy to meet me. Nor are his Brothers, the Sanguinary Priests which carry in their blood the renewal gene-seed for the next generations of Astartes.

I don't care about the corrupted Lamenter seed at all. Whatever happened to their modified gene-seed has backfired so badly, that even other Astartes Chapters refuse to fight beside them.

However, their tactics In combat favor shock assault and close air-support tactics, and they are used to performing boarding actions. Pretty much perfect for my needs.

"You are Rogue Trader Pef Lancefire? We paid our debt dearly, for another one of your kind. Our Brothers who departed for the Achilus Crusade did not return." Chapter Master Malakim Phoros proclaims in a distrustful voice.

I nod politely. "They chose to join the Deathwatch, so their return is in absolutely no way related to me, or even the Rogue Trader you aided in that crusade." I answer with a shrug, and rest my glove on my wolf's horse-sized head.

Canis had grown even larger than I thought possible, but he won't let me ride him. Only my kids get that privilege. Strange, but then I do have plenty ships and dropships to carry me where I need.

The man blinks in surprise and glances at his aides. They possibly thought those Lamenters were completely lost, like it sometimes happened in this dangerous galaxy.

"There are ways to find out, even if the Ordo Xenos hid our Brothers from us." Master Phoros mutters with a determined voice.

"Anyways, come! Let's visit the engine room. I bet a throne you have never seen a warp-less drive." I demand and walk away, with Sister Hestia flanking me on the right and Canis at my left.

The visiting Lamenters debate for a few seconds in finger gestures, probably like "You go, I cover the exit" if my helmet's visor is correct.

Well, they are walking into a trap, but it's not the violent kind. Quite the contrary.

"Have you noticed I am a Blank, just like this lovely lady here?" I ask the Astartes with a curious tone.

He just nods, not that impressed. "I have seen others."

"And yet, you didn't immediately recruit those Blanks for your cursed Chapter. Then again, those afflicted with Black Rage can barely even think, let alone make good decisions. Understandable." I answer in a patient voice, and pat his pauldron in compassion.

He deflects my hand in anger. "I don't need your pity, Rogue Trader! Get to the point."

"Master Huron of the Astral Claws has fallen to Chaos, and dragged his Chapter and his allies after them, into treason. Killed him myself a few years ago, just for sport. I also killed the more famous traitor, Primarch Lorgar. Might have heard of him, even in your rage-induced stupidity." I explained patiently, while waiting for the elevator to arrive, which given the size of the Icarus took a few minutes.

His eyes glow with fury, but he struggles to restrain himself with all his willpower. I guess he must have some control over the Black Rage, or he wouldn't last as a Chapter Master.

"The Lamenters owe the Astral Claws a huge favor. You just made things worse by killing their Chapter Master." the old Astartes growls in a pained voice.

Hestia gestures at me something like "Is he a traitor too?" which the Astartes can certainly see and interpret.

"Mind your sign words, null-maiden. We also owe Forge Angstrom a considerable deb for their machines and supplies. It is why we agreed to come, but don't insult us!" Master Phoros mutters, in a lower tone.

I gesture a quick "Silence!" to the Silent Sister, which makes the Lamenter chuckle sadly, and Canis to make himself smaller and whimper in protest. So, even Space Marines can understand irony.

"Not you, Canis! The loud woman with the big knife." I console my wolf and pat his head.

Is my wolf grinning?

I don't think anyone has given space wolves a savant implant before, because my Canis is way too smart, even faking emotions to break the tension. It works a little, as the Chapter Master shakes his head at our antics and leaves it be.

Eventually, we arrive at the tech-priest infested engine room, where a thousand of them inspect, bless and measure the wondrous ancient machine like they have seen a holy relic.

"This device is part of the solution to your curse, Astartes. Using these type of engines, ships can travel among stars without entering Warp, and the dangers implied with that. Forge Angstrom will provide me warp-less engines, that I can gift for your three barges and your new Starfort. That's for starters." I explain while Hestia climbs on my wolf and goes exploring.

I think she might be a bit upset with me, or she simply wanted to give me privacy. You never know, women are fickle.

"I have heard a rumour, but it seems true after all. I never seen such a ship engine before, and I think I have seen all of them." he says with wary eyes. Well, after boarding a thousand ships you probably get to know your way around engines.

"Well, the STC template is millennia old and probably not complete. That's why only large ships can use this drive, for now. The Fabricator is trying to repair the flaws and make it usable for cruisers, but it will take time. The Starfort is more than big enough. It may even need two or three engines. Perfect place for a fortress-monastery, especially after it could travel the stars." I say as we walked around the many suspended bridges and walkways.

A perfect place to fall and break your neck, but such is the way things work here.

Probably to reduce contact and create an isolation barrier for radiation. I am not sure, as the real science of the engine is way beyond me. And beyond the Mechanicus as well, which is why I needed Trazyn to make it, probably in a time-locked field to save on time.

Anyway, there are no serfs or indentured convicts around the engine, and probably never will be. The engine is too rare, expensive and hard to maintain. Only Tech-priests, servo-skulls and servitor cyborgs are allowed to service the drive, with a corps of enginseers learning their way around the pipes and fusion cells and what else.

"Can the ship fly through Warp? That has tactical advantages too." the man asks me curious.

"Dragged behind a big ship, yes. The Icarus has 10 Gellar fields and 4 void shields, but no Warp-Engine. Only has this Macharius-pattern drive, plus normal plasma engines for realspace maneuvers." I explain patiently.

"Like they move Starforts...Makes sense." the Astartes mused to himself.

"The former Astral Claws' fort had a single Gellar field. Better than nothing, but I wouldn't risk my people flying on an accident ready to happen. The Litany has 2 Gellar generatoriums and another mechanical one covering the drive. And we still got invaded by demons once." I conclude as we head back towards the reception lounge.

"You really killed Primarch Lorgar? I'd have thought something like that would be voxed all around the Imperium and beyond." the old Space Marine asks a bit doubtful.

"I have recordings, although it isn't much. I lanced him for a second with my cruiser and he died. My mother killed Fulgrim as well. Wasn't so easy as this other traitor, though. She was a Blank too, and could restrain his powers while the rest of her team chopped and shot at the serpent." I explain in a softer voice.

Hopefully that serpent daemon won't get revived, not after Estaban sent his melted corpse into a blackhole, with a sacrificial ship.

"Another one? At this rate, we Astartes will be left with nothing to do." he complained in a half-joking tone.

I smiled and didn't comment. Some truths hurt too much.

At the elevator, Hestia and Aleya waited beside Canis. "Wooo! Woof Wooof!" the wolf signaled in warning.

"Bridge, talk to me." I asked on the vox bead.

"Astartes forces inbound, my lord. Believed to be Executioners and Mantis Warriors. Fleet is redeploying to defend the Forge World, per section F/113" my X.O. aunt explained in an assured voice. I should probably give this aunt a cruiser of her own, she was capable enough.

With a frown, I tapped my glove to check the tesseract labyrinth. A mirror of the Angstrom star system appeared in my mind, including all the ships.

Real time too, possible with whatever necrontyr technology the labyrinths were made from. No need to wait for return augurs or analyze gravity distortions.

Those Astral Claws sneaky bastards! Must have heard of my fleet repairing at Angstrom.

Another sneaky fleet was moving in behind the sun, thinking themselves hidden by the solar flares.

In a second, that invisible fleet behind the sun vanished into my labyrinth, and will never be spoken of again. If nobody knew it was there, nobody would know it has vanished, right?

A free Mars-class battlecruiser? I really needed one for my set. Those 9 Tyrant-class cruisers were also nice, and so it was the Endless Redemption Battle barge, with 3 Astartes Companies on board, including 10 Terminators.

It was really worth to stick around here. Good things happen for those who wait with patience

The fleet advancing on us from the direction of Badab sector is pretty big for the way most battles take place.

Both the Executioners and the Mantis Warriors have a dozen cruisers and two barges, while the Astral Claws have one cruiser and over 80 destroyers, because they haven't paid taxes in the past 200 years.

The Imperium only just noticed, which fills me with great confidence about their decision processes.

Also, I think they're not after the Forge World, but trying to recapture their lost barge and fort.

"Wentian, Nova Cannon in middle of traitors' escort group." I demand out lout, just to test how the Lamenter's Master reacts.

"Right away, Captain. Targeting. One minute til they enter range." my uncle replies from his Dominator cruiser.

Master Phoros winces in pain. "Do you have to fight them?" he asks in pleading voice.

"As I was saying, the problem all Astartes have is this falling to Chaos idiocy. Doesn't happen for Blanks, or Pariahs, because we simply don't give a throne about the Warp. No corruption, no mutations, not even voices in our heads promising eternal life for our souls. What we need, is a million Blanks to replace all these corrupted and treasonous cretins. Isn't it so, Astartes?" I ask in a teasing voice, and fling three more Nova mines in the path of the three enemy squadrons.

The blinding flare of the Nova shells blocks all sensors, preventing anyone seeing what's happening, so a hundred destroyers simply vanish, after the light subsides. Not obliterated but into my labyrinth, so nobody knows about it.

"Captain...the enemy fleet is decimated, all the destroyers gone, almost!" my auspex officer yells in excitement.

I sigh audibly and key my vox. "You missed three targets, Wentian! Circle around for another shot."

My uncle is too surprised to comment. A hundred destroyers in one Nova shell was beyond believable, even if theoretically possible, on the luckiest shot ever.

"As you say, Captain. We'll do better next time." Wentian answers a few seconds later.

"That was...did you just admonish your clansman for missing three destroyers?" Chaplain Delos grumbles from my left side, while my aunt snickers in amusement.

"... I would have got them all, plus Nova shells are expensive." I answer in a timid voice.

Nobody on my bridge comments, because they probably believe me. My luck is the stuff of legend, and they know it.

Only Hestia shows me a single finger sign, that says "Bullshit!"

Canis mewls and eyes my glove with a knowing look. How can he even know, what I did? Damn bullshit wolf!

"Incoming Vox transmission for the Astral Claws cruiser!" my vox officer claims, but doesn't let it through.

We rarely banter with enemies, unless they are Orks. Orks are fun.

"What do you say, Lamenter? Ready to board their barges after next salvo?" I ask curious, while directing two wings of 100 corvettes to flank the traitors from both sides. Not letting my prizes escape.

The attacking barges already lost a layer of void shields and the cruisers are defenseless now, after getting splashed by my Nova mines.

"Boarding their barges will be very costly. My Chapter will suffer catastrophic losses." the Chapter Master reminds me with a heavy voice.

Yes, hopefully nearly total loses.

"And then, I will provide Blank recruits to replace your fallen Brothers. No more curse, plus amazing reputation for ending the Badab War in a single day. I will even lend you my Blood Angels and a Catachan regiment with Sentinels and Rapiers." I argue while keeping watch on Wentian's cruiser.

Should be in position in a few minutes.

"And we keep their captured ships, for my Chapter?" Master Phoros asks in a calm voice. I know that voice, because Ludvaius uses it when we're about to die. However, the Blood Angels will risk their lives too.

I glance at Delos and raise an eyebrow. "You want a free Battle Barge, Brother?"

The Blood Angel Chaplain laughs, as if he has heard the best joke ever. "Why not, my lord? Let's end this war today."

"All troops on deployment duty, prepare for boarding actions. Fighters, prepare to launch after Nova detonation. Astartes, teleport rooms!" I order rapidly while the Icarus Machine Spirit keeps track of the thousands of vectors and changes coming from our fleet and the enemy.

I also have my secondary option, using the tesseract to keep an eye on the system.

Then, another flare and more Nova mines, plus a few plasma warheads inside the main Astartes barracks on board the barges. The cruisers' bridges get vaporized by more plasma warheads, because I intend to give these valuable hulls to Forge Angstrom.

Cruisers are too big to get vaporized, so they have to stay. Nobody says they need to be intact.

The traitors had a bit too many space marines, by going over legal limits, but I also can't make it too easy for the Lamenters. Their Rage and Thirst curses have returned, but much stronger than before.

Not one of them can fully control their curse, and in battle they fight to the last drop of blood.

And then, there's the bad luck and aura of melancholy, which are certainly Warp consequences of their damaged gene-seed.

Perhaps the Emperor isn't happy with them, or some Dark God plays a tragedy with their souls. Maybe both of those things.

Hestia gestures for permission to go as well, and I allow it, for all the Sisters.

Pariahs will keep things honest, as Lamenters didn't have psykers or Librarians, nor did they have blackstone armor and Rosaries shields yet.

Four enemy barges, thus four squads of Ogryns get to go as well. In melee, they are worth two space marines each, and boarding actions always have melee. Battle damage is inevitable, so why not use the big sticks?

"May the Emperor have mercy on your souls!" I whisper as the ship boardings begin.

It is not pretty at all, but we have combat servitors, and they don't. Serfs are not as effective in tight spaces, plus they still feel pain and fear.

The tech-priests and the Catachans follow after the whirlwind of bolter fire and secure deck after deck, snipers targeting Librarians and other psykers, while the Silent Sisters act as magic shields, preventing Warp-fire or other spells from incinerating the front lines.

Neophytes and Aspirants are all thrown in the grinder, all three Astartes Chapters bleeding themselves dry at the bidding of a Chaos follower and a greedy Rogue Trader.

The fight keeps going for a week, because Astartes die hard. My Blood Angels die even harder, taking 5 enemies down for one of theirs, but they are not invulnerable.

The Lamenters fare much worse, and lose 900 Battle-Brothers for less than 800 kills. Perhaps howling in rage and foaming at the mouth isn't the best strategy.

But one by one, the Battle Barges are conquered, and then the cruisers and even some support ships. The Blood Angels keep calm, and capture a hundred Astartes of each traitor chapter when they offer to surrender.

The old Chapter Master is mortally wounded and asks to see my in their apothecary. He shouldn't even be alive, grievous wounds probably caused by a chainsaw and a dozen bolter holes have shredded him beyond recognition. And yet he still lives.

"Lord Lancefire, you have to promise. Save my Chapter somehow, be the next Master. Do anything in your powers. I saw the Angel...and now he stands by your shoulder. Sang...." he whispers and dies, as I glance to my side, to see a vanishing wing.

I wasn't the only one to see the Sanguinor appear. The Sanguinary Priests, the Apothecaries, a dozen techmarines...they all saw him. The Angel of Death came to collect.

"Chapter Master! You are now our leader, Lord Pef Lancefire. There is no doubt." their Chief Priest announces to the mourning Lamenters.

"Alright. I have the Blood Angel gene-seed, but it shouldn't be much problem. It's from the same Primarch." I muse out loud.

"Oh, that explains some things...though not why are you still a Rogue Trader and not on Baal receiving the organs." the priest asks me in a curious voice.

I think all the Lamenters have the same question.

"I'm not a Space Marine though. This Angel gave me his blood, when I was injured on Estaban. Even gave me the Red Thirst, which was pretty bad for a few hours. But I got better!" I answered with a wide grin.

They're not sure if to believe me. "Really?" A techmarine asks in surprise.

I nod politely. "Take blood samples...if you want to check. It's not like Sanguinius genes can't be seen on a medical auspex."

And they do. A whole battery of tests in fact. I'm used to tests, but I wish they knew about anesthetics.

I endure and get over it. It seems I will need even more concubines. Oh well. Perhaps I could find more Silent Sisters.

galaxy.

So, when the Fabricator of Angstrom tells me he might need 80 years just to reduce the size of an engine from 10 kilometers battleships to 7 kilometers like a battlecruiser, it appears natural and a short time.

I nod wisely, and advise him to use 20 years just to train a conclave of tech-priests by building big engines and selling those to the Imperial Navy. More minds and brains are better than just a few, and the Imperium will need these specialists anyway.

He agrees, after a minute of silent deliberation. "We shall do so, Lord Lancefire. So, you have an Astartes Chapter now."

"A very reduced one, Fabricator. No combat-able Space Marines remain for my Lamenters. Most neophytes and aspirants are gone as well, and their gene-seed is still damaged. We don't even have enough crew to man all these captured vessels." I explain in a tired voice.

"And the same for those Traitor marines that you preserved. The Inquisition will arrive for investigation and possibly execution of the survivors." the Archmagos says in a confident tone.

I highly doubt that. In fact, the High Lords on Terra will most likely impose penance and a century of crusade to these failed Astartes. "That will take a few months. Let's make sure the Executioners and the Mantis Warriors get some aid in recovering their numbers, plus a thousand techmarines each. Plenty of gene-seeds can be recovered from the corpses, plus they do have intact stocks in their gene-vaults."

"And what stock of men will they use, Lord Pef? Miners and servants from the planets in this system?" he argues, kinda dismissive.

Well, he does have a point. But I have an answer for that too. "Those, if the miners are healthy and without mutation. Some of your own fresh acolytes for the techmarines, and some of my Catachans and voidsmen. The same for the Lamenters techmarines. For the Lamenters Battle-Brothers we will use Blank recruits in the Eastern Fringe, which have proven to resist the rage curse, in our testing with the Blood Angels. Blanks are such a wonderful and convenient genetic stock, after all. No mutations, no Warp corruption, and that even works for organic parts in Machine Spirits. Forge Estaban makes them already." I announce and detach my vambrace Power Shield, which is indeed made on Estaban and hand it over.

The Mechanicus Fabricator scans and considers the Power Shield for a long hour, turning the orange energy field on and striking it with his portable arsenal. I only recognize a third of his weapons, and I think one of those pistols is a psylancer, something only Ordo Malleus and the Grey Knights are allowed to have. Then again, someone has to produce these weapons, and that is only the Mechanicus.

"It does seem to work, Lord Lancefire. Sure, it is very low-level technology, as it is. Any Forge can make these power shields, and Estaban still uses nanometer-scale forges. The quality is abject!" the tech-priest complains in disgust.

He might puke his guts out, if he learns my Forge Retribution only has millimeter-scale quality control for the cheap infantry vehicles. So I don't tell him. See, I'm smart like that!

"Want to check my savant implants while we're not busy? I may need a better implant, and more functions if I have to lead an Astartes Chapter. Never been a Space Marine before, you see?" I ask in a wry tone.

My skull gets shaven and cut open in a minute, and I hear grumbling and more quality-control expletives. A few hours later, my skull is put back together, and a whole new world opens to me. I can see the datasphere now, hear the machines constant droning and hear electric currents and taste infobytes on my tongue. And there's something else, a feeling of control over my armor...

"I have given you a Mind Impulse Unit, Lord Lancefire. You will certainly be able to pilot any human ship or vehicle, up to Knight suits. I have also cleaned some blood clots and silver particles deposited on your right brain lobe. A tech-priest has made a mess in there, so you were right to request a new implant. Silver and gold! Cheap materials like that will not sustain battlefleet-scale computations, nor resist stronger Machine Spirits like an Astartes Battle Barge has, via the Captain's command throne." The Fabricator explains in a weird tone, while holding out my old implant in a mechadendrite.

"Is the implant defective?" I wonder out loud.

"Not exactly, no. You would be brain-dead, if it was. But it was deformed by some type of Warp phenomena, as you can see here. Where it was not covered in cerebral fluid and your blood, the golden eagle sigilium that shines, without bio-electric impulse. I think you had a relic in your head, Chapter Master Lancefire." The Fabricator says in an awed voice and sprinkles some incense on the implant. The glow fades.

"... I had an active Warp emitter in my head? Would that even work on a Blank?" I asked in confusion.

"Not directly, no. But a powerful Primaris_Psyker or a skilled Navigator, might be able to track the emanations of this relic. An Alpha-level psyker, at least." he mused while tinkering with the exposed and slightly corroded sigil, slicing it off and placing it in front of me for inspection.

The nail-sized twin Aquila still shined, very faintly.

Would Gyron even know this tracker was there? Probably not. He wasn't a psyker.

I powered up my better implant and began running simulations and timelines. Gyron took care of me for Justine, in exchange for some Inquisition job on Antax.

Is that where he got this implant from? The Inquisition did use henchmen known as a Sage, and they would like to keep track of them. Valuable knowledge in their brains, after all.

Somewhere up the chain a command, there was a Lord Inquisitor with Alpha-level psyker powers, who could track my movements from a sector away.

Then of course...whatever the Angel did to me, which activated the relic during the time when the sacred Astartes blood reached my brain.

The Red Thirst followed, or was induced. Was this kind of Thorian plot? Some faction of the Inquisition keeping tabs on potential Divine Vessels?

The Eldar Avatars and their potential incarnations as an Eldar Deity...and my Rose was an Ordo Xenos Inquisitor.

Avatars, Enslavers, Psychneuein or Vampyrs they could all transcend the barriers of the realspace and the Immaterium, and the Thorians searched for a similar method which could allow the Emperor to return to a flesh body.

And who was best friends with the Eldar, among the Lord Inquisitors? Was it perhaps Bronislaw_Czevak ?

Seemed the most probable conclusion, from the facts I had. Of course, I might be paranoid and nobody was actually looking at me like the next flesh-suit of the Emperor of Mankind.

But it made sense to be paranoid, especially if the Emperor himself was the one behind the scenes, pulling strings and arranging lucky accidents and Angels showing up. I have seen that Angel three times, which was a trillion times more than anyone else.

'Oh Adam, my friend. Things must be really bad out there, if you rely on me to save you. What's next? You transform my lovely Sisters of Battle into Living Saints? Canis into a Holy Wolf? Maybe Janice?!'

I murmured in my mind, holding the tiny golden eagle in my palm.

Other potential plots ran in my mind, Inquisitors searching for Sensei, Emperor's flesh children and Eternals just like the Emperor, who they sacrificed ritually to grant their Master extra strength via bloodline infusion.

I doubted this was the case, as Eternals did not get old, while I needed life extension and that rejuvenate treatment to recover my youth.

Anyway, there was little I could do, that I didn't do already.

I had Space Marines, and ships and tanks and a good relation with the Forges in the segmentum, even had a small Forge World of my own. I had my Warrant of Trade and an unauthorized Rosetta, and then I had heretical xeno tech that helped change the odds of any battle.

It was time to return to my kingdom and expand and expand again. My captured ships will need to be 'discovered' abandoned among distant Fringe stars.

A dozen nearby jungle worlds will need to be colonized, by importing more Catachan infantry regiments, tech-priests and millions or billions of indentured women from any Hive World in range.

And after this stage, gather more strength, build more units and attack again. Wave after wave of colonization, growth and expansion, til my private empire outnumbered the dispersed Imperium a thousand to one

With the impending threat of a murderous Inquisitorial investigation on its way, even the Fabricator is slightly more motivated into finishing up the repairs of my ships.

One after another, the corvettes are rearmed with torpedoes and loaded into their launching bays on the Icarus carrier, while the damaged Battle Barges are dragged into dockyards for a complete refit.

So are the damaged cruisers and other vessels boarded and captured, while the traitors are kept disarmed and under guard, awaiting their trial.

The last Astral Claws' Cardinal-class Heavy Cruiser named the Thoth's Hound contained the Forge Master Armenneus_Valthex, known for his advanced artificier-grade weapons and armor. This guy was so renowned for his skill that even tech-priests would consult with him on various artifacts related to the Astartes.

Well, Valthex was presumed dead after his cruiser's bridge exploded from a teleported plasma warhead, but he now simply laid in stasis among many other of his Astral Brothers.

I had almost 16 thousands Claws, 300 Mantis and 200 Executioners among my trophies, but I would need a way to mind control them, just like Trazyn had his Mind Scarabs.

Not really an urgent matter, but something to consider. Perhaps via those Enslaver bones, as they did literally belong to a mind controlling monster.

Once my loyal Astartes were painted black in Deathwatch color, nobody would need to know their origin, right?

The stolen ships would be harder to disguise, although this wouldn't matter for now. Crew and officers, servitors and tech-priests will be needed for every single ship, and extensive repair and refit to make the warships effective when they had to battle outside the range of my cheating presence.

I did send an Astropath message to Sotha, informing my Rose of the official result of my Crusade, and requested the Lamenters still in the Deathwatch to be released into my care. That will take some time, but having a core of Veteran Marines as trainers for my Blank recruits would be invaluable. She owed me a lot for all those Eldar prisoners, including a Farseer, so might as well spend that favor for my Astartes.

More Gellar generators had to be constructed and installed in every captured ship, but the trade with Forge World Angstrom was easily achieved by donating the damaged hulls, plus some of the spoils from my Magog plundering.

All those ancient pattern weapons found with pirates and criminals were rather useless to me, as I lacked the expertise to repair them. I kept the scans of course, as STC templates would be valuable to other Forges too.

Even so, the Fabricator did promise to begin constructing his own fleet of system-only torpedo corvettes, and to mount Nova Cannons on the salvageable cruiser hulls. As for my other ideas...

"Importing indentured serfs from nearby Hive Worlds to train new tech-priests...or culling the underhives for more servitors? You do have the strangest ideas, Lord Lancefire!" the Magos exclaimed, while we were going over the captured equipment from the traitors, including gunships, fighters, power and Terminator armor plus many broken tanks and weapons and other machines.

"Of course, honored Fabricator. Repairing all these artifacts would take millennia otherwise. And then I would have to ask another Forge for the privilege of examining and repairing these priceless relics we recovered from the Astral Claws and the Executioners. I still have to, for my own Lamenters gruesomely butchered power armors and dreadnoughts. Probably Forge Tigrus or Metalica, while Forge Incaladion will take care of the Blood Angels armor." I explained politely, and pointed at Master's Phoros terminally damaged armor.

"No! I mean... Don't take everything away, Lord Lancefire. Leave us at least two of every item, and we might uncover more great mysteries of the Omnissiah from them, by careful logis comparison and arduous machine canticles." he asked in almost panic.

The situation was funny for me, but understandable from the Mechanicus perspective. It would be like showing some museum curator the original armor of Emperor Constantine, and then giving it to another museum for restoration.

"And that Contemptor_Pattern_Dreadnought? Are you certain it can be restored enough to inter my Captain Tybahlt of the Blood Angel bodyguard?" I asked with a sadder voice.

It seemed some kind of phased claw had managed to rend even his blackstone armor plates, ignoring the shield as well.

I had a suspicion what kind of technology stood at the base for that claw, probably one of those phased swords used by the Callidus Assassins, or a similar weapon with C'tan provenience.

Astartes Tybahlt valiantly held onto the arm of his Astral Claws foe, allowing his Battle Brothers to kill his enemy, but his organs were all shredded beyond repair. I wasn't ready to allow him to die so easily though.

The dreadnought itself was found empty in a sealed vault on the Mantis barge, but wasn't fully operational, although the Atomantic Shield still worked, and that was the most important thing.

"And I expect you want that Ghost Razors gauntlet installed on the dreadnought as well. Alright, it can be done, but it will take a few years." The Fabricator accepted after a few seconds of thought.

He probably needed to work on this himself, which would guarantee perfect quality, and allow him to examine and learn all those secrets. Sneaky tech-priest, but then I couldn't really complain.

"Great! You're amazingly helpful Fabricator, and do your Cult Mechanicus proud. So you were saying something about a Knight? I would need two of them, for me and my other pilot I rescued at Badab." I demanded with a slightly more pleading voice.

Just a tiny bit, because I did have an Astartes Chapter now. No more need to be ultra meek, just politely meek.

A wave of metal tentacles blurred around him, and it seemed I touched a sore spot. "I would gladly help, Lord Pef. It is why I gifted you with the best Mind Impulse Unit in the galaxy. But my Forge World cannot produce Knights or Titans. We have several godmachines, but we only service and repair them. The Volcano Lance and Cannons templates from your STC gifts will allow us to field a dozen more Titans in a decade, which is immensely important to our faith."

I blinked in surprise, and then just sighed. Of course not all Forge Worlds had Titan Manufactoriums. I was used to richer Forges after all. This was not Ryza, who kept an Ork Waaagh on their doorstep just to test the Titans in combat.

"It's it alright, Fabricator. Let me see where your Forge could be of help...Catachan regiments! Yes, the jungle warriors, once provided with Armed Sentinel walkers, will be very useful in establishing my dynasty on a dozen jungle worlds around my capital, and help me clear the Orks. Unlimited order for as many regiments you can obtain, with as many guardswomen as they can spare, dear Magos. And provide them adamantium blades and chest plates, like my other Catachans have. I'd say a thousand Sentinels per regiment, plus 500 Chimeras and Hydras for the mechanized regiments." I mused out loud, while picking up an Astartes heavy bolter in my left hand.

The heavy bolter gun was straining my power armor even without firing it. Much too heavy even for a Catachan, but would work great on the Sentinels and Chimeras.

Lasguns wouldn't really work against Orks, just like the ongoing war on Armageddon proved. The stupid mushrooms were too resilient, and so were the Tyranids.

"And you want heavy bolters and flamers...possibly combi-weapons on those Sentinels?" the Magos deduced as I strained to hold the heavy weapon in one hand.

Looked great, but bolter pistols were the effective limit for my current armor.

"Chainsaw sword and flamer one arm, adamantium gunshield with heavy bolter on the other. Sealed cockpit with adamantium window blinds. Infrared auspex for night combat. Similar outfit for Chimeras, flamer and heavy bolters. Tanks will not be that useful in jungles, but a wing of bombers per regiment could provide close-air support. Promethium refinery and a bolter round manufactorium for every settled planet, with a thousand tech-priests to oversee repairs. And a hundred more bolt sniper rifles, per regiment." I added in a distant voice.

Adamantium might be expensive, but there were megatonnes of it in the damaged hulls. A single cruiser could provide a million tons of adamantium, enough to armor a million Sentinels.

A Sentinel is twice as small and 1000 times cheaper than a Knight, and the gunshield would be large enough to cover the shoulder socket and the bolter ammo drum.

The chainsaw uses promethium as fuel, and same does the flamer, and the burning promethium would melt even steel, and more importantly, the flesh behind the armor.

Very effective in jungles and vs. organic enemies like Orks and Tyranids.

"A dozen Catachan regiments should be possible to requisition. But for more guardsmen and all that equipment...a few decades." the Fabricator proclaimed while examining the sniper rifle that I pointed him to.

A good sniper could kill a hundred enemies every day. Times a hundred snipers per regiment, they would devastate any enemy, even if fortified and entrenched.

Not that Orks or Tyranids hid in trenches, but they weren't the only possible enemies, just the most numerous.

The repairs on the damaged Astartes ships continued and the barges were being modified with a vertical torpedo cell-block for 100 torpedoes, which should allow them to fight a battleship and even win.

Similar to that reload system I first created for the Manticore missile launcher, the empty torpedo container could be extracted and replaced with a full one, increasing re-arming speed by ten times in zero gravity.

The teleport rooms on the barges were also undergoing complete repair, while the Astartes were grumbling about having tech-priests going all over their stuff.

I didn't care much about that. Who were they going to complain to? Me?

Just like former Master Huron had discovered, independent Astartes command of their Chapters might be great for the absence of superiors, but that also meant no protection from those superiors.

They were at my mercy, and mercy wasn't something I was willing to spend much.

I spent my time overseeing my new Lamenter Chapter and revising their Codex and doctrine, tinkering with the hypnotic chairs that enforced loyalty and imparted automatic reflexes and knowledge of enemies and weapons.

It would take decades to prepare a better Codex, but my own STCs could be uploaded in the data-vault, and various memetic subordination commands for the Inquisition or other high ranking Adepta of the Imperium could be slightly loosened or outright circumvented.

There were also some highly coded mnemonic instructions with Mars signature imprints, which were probably part of the problem with the Lamenters curse. Someone had experimented on them, right at their founding 5000 years ago.

Sadly I didn't have clearance to delete them, so I might need to 'borrow' other hypno-chairs from the other barges or the Starfort

Almost 3 years have passed since I have arrived here at Forge Angstrom, and only now the Imperium has begun mobilizing to counter-attack the secessionist movement started by the Badab's Tyrant, Master Huron.

A task force of Red Scorpions and Fire Hawks arrives to prosecute justice and retribution on the traitors, only to find them defeated and imprisoned. They don't seem very happy with this, damn bloodthirsty maniacs.

The loot and prizes are all mine, or rather my Rogue Trader's dynasty, my Lamenters', my Blood Angels' and the Forge Angstrom's share for going above and beyond duty in repairing the battle damage.

A single barge is a considerable prize, since even the Blood Angel chapter only has 3 barges, for example. And that's because I saved the Bellus back at Forge Shenlong, or there would only be two.

Add to that a Strike Cruiser still getting repaired and a couple of support ships and their Chapter has increased in strength by over 25 percent.

The Lamenters were already fleet-based, so 3 more Battle Barges plus the Starfort as a fortress monastery, will propel them in the same rankings as the Dark Angels or the Iron Fists. Their luck has took a turn for the better, despite the horrendous casualties they took in conquering these assets.

That Inquisitor dislikes the shift in the power rankings. Of course he does, the scheming bastard.

Not really his mandate though. I do try to divert him onto new avenues of thought, because his disappearance wouldn't solve the problem, just delay it.

"Inquisitor, I am certain the Senatores Imperialis will reach the same conclusion. The Astral Claws will be declared excommunicated. Most likely the Tiger_Claws as well, because there are signs of having been part of this secessionist plot for centuries. Corien_Sumatris had the rank of Captain in the Astral Claws, but he is well known for belonging to the Tiger Claws centuries ago. His body is stored by the Mechanicus in stasis, as are all the dead from their insidious attack on Forge Angstrom."

I say with the confidence of an Astartes Chapter Master.

That includes the Lamenters, but I will gladly pay the gene-tithe with their bodies. I don't plan to use that damaged seed anyway.

I don't look like a Space Marine yet, although I have grown in body size somewhat, and I am wearing Arkio's power armor, painted in the Lamenter's yellow with pauldrons decorated in my House's colors.

I also wear an Iron Halo not the stolen Rosarius, a relic Power Sword named Goldenfang, and a Spectral-pattern Bolter on my shoulder linked to my MIU, plus a couple of digital weapons, all captured from that Captain Sumatris. Of course, I kinda suck at using all these weapons and armor, but at least I look impressive. Even my wolf thinks so.

Canis examines me with doubtful eyes, and sniffs the Inquisitor again. Doesn't smell corrupted, but there are many kinds of reasons he might want to kill me.

"I will decide what to do with the rebel Space Marines! After examining all the evidence." he proclaims in a righteous tone, and slams his warhammer on the metal floor.

Have it your way, tinpot dictator. I have a perfect alibi, and a hero's reputation right now.

"Of course, Inquisitor. Well then, may the Emperor aid you in your duty. My Chapter will depart in a month, once our dead have been released back into our care." I announced in a flat tone and walk away, patting Canis for his loyal service.

"This isn't over, Master Lancefire!" the Jarndyce Frane yells after me, but I pretend not to hear him.

His enspelled Rosette has little effect on me, and his psyker powers have zero or null chances of reaching me. The poor Inquisitor must feel like talking to a blank wall.

The first new Catachan regiment has already arrived and eleven more are due to arrive in two or three weeks.

"I guess we're not shooting this Inquisitor?" Chaplain Delos asks me with faint amusement. And not via implant or mind transmission.

"Woof?" Canis asks in surprise.

I sigh inward and keep walking. Those Red Scorpions have surely heard that. Most likely, it was exactly the point the Chaplain tried to make. Warn them we will not get pressured or bullied, and another Inquisitor might have bit a bullet when he tried.

A few days later, I get invited to chat with the leader of the Red Scorpions a man named Lord High Commander Verant Ortys

He looks at me with wary eyes, and offers me food and drink. At least it's a start.

"Don't worry, Astartes. I don't bite." I mutter in between bites, and offer my Canis some of that exotic meat. There are too many species of edible animals in the galaxy, and 10 times as many plants.

"You are only a neophyte...how come you were elected to lead the Lamenters? You might be under-strength, but even so...there are plenty of experienced Brothers remaining." he wonders in a curious voice.

"Perhaps so, but I am a Blank and thus immune to Chaos. It is the lesson of the Badab's Tyrant. No matter how strong a Chapter is, if the head is infected they all go to hell. The Blood Angels have already created an entire Company made only of Blanks, and they seem immune to that Black Rage curse. Even the Red Thirst seems manageable, more or less." I explain politely and offer my wolf half of the juicy steak.

Canis eats it with disgust, so it's not lethal, only cooked. Well, wolves don't like cooked meat much, no surprise there.

The Red Scorpion tilts his head in deep thought. "Even so, it is not enough to be a Blank. You took on three Astartes Chapters and won, and won so decisively that all the remaining Apothecaries and Sanguinary Priests agreed to your nomination. Proof of command ability, and perhaps hoping to turn their luck around. Is that so?" the man asks in a gentler voice.

"The gene-seed Lamenters have, it has been deliberately damaged, Lord Ortys. Manipulated during the founding. Most likely by Mars, going by the traces I could find in the datasphere. I don't doubt the intention was good, probably to cut away the Blood Angels curse via gene splicing and psychic baffling. Only it didn't last long. All my Battle-Brothers that were involved in the recent boarding actions died due to rage and thirst. Less so for my Blood Angels bodyguards, but they are not Blanks either, only more used to restraining themselves." I explain patiently.

I know all Astartes Chapters keep these things hidden like dark secrets, but I don't really care about that, do I?

"So what will you do then? Ask for gene-seeds from the Blood Angels? Would they agree to such a thing?" the Red Scorpion wonders in a pity tone.

I nod and pet my wolf. "Yes, I will ask, and they will agree... Blood Angel seed will work great for the new Blank recruits. I know, I have the same gene-seed and I conquered that silly Red Thirst in a few hours. For my other Brothers, plus tech-marines and all the rest, I will need to look elsewhere. Most likely, a Chapter with pure gene-seeds like the Scythes of the Emperor. Or perhaps the Red Scorpions, I hear they have over 90 percent purity." I ask shamelessly, while taking out a dataslate with a list of conquered loot and relics. Including Terminator armor and rare weapons and even tanks or gunships. I did have a whole collection, both inside the tesseract and outside.

Lord Ortys frowned and checked the slate with an angry look. Perhaps nobody else offered him valuable artifacts and vehicles for a few gene-seeds.

"You can spare 10 intact Terminator armors? 10 more turreted Land Raider tanks? 1000 Armed Sentinels with heavy bolters and chainswords, for our serfs...and 50 Predator tanks armed with Volcano Lances? Even Furies and Thunderhawks...You could found a new Chapter with all these!" the veteran Astartes exclaimed in outrage.

"I do have a Chapter, but no Astartes. It will take decades until the Lamenters are back to strength, and you would lose fewer Brothers if they have good equipment. Thus, you could spare a portion of the gene-seed for the Lamenters. You could also use tech-marines as pilots and gunners for all the vehicles, just like I plan to do. Give them a good mind-impulse implant, and they can help support an assault from afar, while protected by vehicle armor." I argued in a logical voice.

Wasn't sure the voice of reason would work, but I could try.

"Fewer losses, huh? That's definitely true. I will need to consult with my Captains and the Apothecaries. We have never given away our gene-seed." he murmured to himself.

Canis nudged me towards the wine bottle, but I resisted. I haven't won yet.

"There might be a Strike Cruiser available as well, once it is repaired. I do have too many of them, and not enough neophytes and aspirants to man them. Surely, a Blank Captain like my daughter Finona will not fall to Chaos, and just like my Sisters of Silence she is portable Gellar field. Also, nulls are great mothers for new Blank recruits." I offered with a thin smile.

Finona would keep making babies of her own, and some of them will be Blanks. It was a honey trap, and the Chapter Master of the Red Scorpions saw it instantly. Some clause for securing her status as a free citizen and not a serf will be needed though.

Lord Ortys gulped his wine cup and rose to his feet. "As it happens, we do have an Inquisitor available, to request a squad of Silent Sisters for our fleet. I will explain this to my Captains...and we will have an answer soon, Lord Lancefire." he offered politely and held out his hand for a handshake.

Now, I could drink a toast for this victory. So I did

As expected, the Red Scorpions agree to my proposal, although they demand 2 cruisers for their reduced recovery ability in the next decade, until their progenoid glands create more gene-seed.

I am almost tempted to refuse, just to spite them. Then again, pure gene-seeds are rare.

I disperse my Silent Sisters among the largest ships to protect their Gellar fields from Warp intrusion, because the remaining Lamenters still carry the curse. That sometimes results in Warp Storms yanking them away or unlucky damage to their Warp drives or malfunctioning weapons and many similar problems.

Most of the Lamenters have moved to the Starfort, which has its own warp-less engines now, and only an honor guard travels on the Icarus carrier.

The new Catachan regiments are also spread among the barges and cruisers, because I don't trust those Navy troop transports at all. They look like they would explode at the first missile or lance that might hit them.

However, ships are ships and one can never have enough of them.

A couple of Blood Angels depart for Baal with their new barge and cruiser, escorted by a pair of my Los Angeles destroyers. They also carry a thousand Catachans, those I got most complaints about. Pretty sure the Blood Angels will whip them into shape, and possibly even induct some of them as new Aspirants.

I'm not sure how that death world keeps producing so many regiments, there must be hundreds of Catachan regiments in the Astra Militarum, plus just as many on their own homeworld of Catachan.

They possibly bang as many times as possible, to keep their numbers high. Not a bad idea, in fact.

I did convince a new batch of Catachan women to become my 'personal guard' and by that I mean concubines. Only as a Chapter Master I have to retain dignity and stuff and be more respectful.

"Oh yeah, big boy. Pump those hips, and give me a space marine baby!" my current personal guard yells and embraces me tight. I think my spine creaked.

I inject my gene-seed and fall to the side, a bit exhausted. Still much better than all these Astartes that inject other men with their gene-seed.

I'm not sure why the Emperor came up with that idea of asexual reproduction among men. The guy was strange though, and probably lived among the Greeks and the Spartans. The Companions of Alexander the Great were battle brothers just like his space marines, and lovers too.

Thus, he now has an Imperium of Man, which kinda sucks if you're a woman.

On that note, Helena and Catherine arrive next, and begin massaging my tired and bruised body with healing oils and grabby hands.

Training with Astartes is a bit...painful, and the Catachan concubines aren't gentle either.

Helena has finally given birth to a Blank boy and Catherine has two Blank daughters, among other kids without the immunity.

"See, Lord Pef? We were right to follow you, after all. An entire Astartes Chapter, and so many heroic deeds! So will you recruit little Homer to become an Astartes like his father?" Helena asks softly, and rest her head on my shoulder.

I nod in agreement and kiss her forehead, simply enjoying Cateherine's massage of my progenitor glands.

"In his late teens, at the earliest. Homer needs to learn all he can from a tech-priest, just like I have, and sire his own natural children. Perhaps a few more nulls will appear." I say in a relieved voice.

"Again with the tech-priests! Why not call a Confessor or a Sister from Orders_Famulous?" Helena argues in a convincing voice, and this time she might be right. Those women do have excellent skills, both as teachers and as genetic match-makers.

Many Nobles make use of their talents to preserve or enhance their House's genetic purity and special talents.

"Alright, my dear. Place a call for a squad of those Sisters, because I do have many children already and many more to come. They could teach evening lessons, while the tech-priests have morning lessons with my kids." I allow as Catherine climbs on me for another pleasant duty.

"You better have some seed left for me too, after Cathy is done. How goes the cloning project?" Helena demands in a breathy voice, and bites my ear for attention. Too much, woman! I'm not without limits...although I should be good two more times.

"... Not well at all. Only genes from my non-Blank kids can be cloned successfully, for now. But a thousand girls like Larrisa are still great, and same for more Knight pilots like Lord Whitelance and Lord Vancestar." I mutter back, and consider her question.

Helena wouldn't ask unless...damn Adepta Sororitas! Still after me, and abusing my trust.

"My Order would be very grateful if some of your daughters will be sent to the Convent Sanctorum on Ophelia_VII. Not the Blanks, of course." she entices me in a throaty voice.

I meditate on that offer for the next leg of the trip. It is good and bad at the same time. Children of mine in the clutches of a religious order? Bad!

Then again, most of my non-Blank kids will either join the trader fleet or as adepts on Forge Retribution. The Cult Mechanicus is a religious order too.

But unlike the tech-priests, the Sisters kinda abuse the kids sent in their care, like any militant order.

In the end, that matters more, for me. "Not going to happen, Helena. Child abuse is not on my wish list for my kids, plus Ophelia has no real fleet or orbital defenses. Sooner or later they will be invaded and exterminated." I declare as my own fleet arrives at Illevar, the orbit full of orbital forts and hundreds of corvettes, plus a few battlecruisers.

My dear Helena looks out the bridge window, and takes in the massive effort I have put in for defense. "The Sisters wish to be independent, so no Navy or Mechanicus base is allowed in the Ophelia system. Your clan has so many warships...no wonder you go and rescue others." she muses in a deep yearning voice.

"And it is still not enough. That's why I've brought a Starfort and an Astartes Chapter to defend my capital." I answer as the familiar myriad of vox messages begin to flood the vox box, with demands from all my subjects.

It seems another cult has risen up in a Hive City, and Victor has ordered a dozen PDF regiments to suppress the rebellion and capture the leaders for trial and execution.

They didn't succeed fast enough, and now the whole city is divided in a civil war.

Oh well, it is 40k. Business as usual for these times.

Also, I did bring 17 Catachan regiments with my fleet, plus 60 surviving Blood Angels.

Might as well let them stretch their legs and test the new weapons.

In less than a month, the rebellion is quashed brutally and I obtain almost 100 million of new lobotomized servitors with crude implants and rough bionic limbs.

Time to put them to work, as miners and farmers and woodcutters. There are plenty new worlds awaiting civilization around, and servitors will serve the Emperor, even in death.

In a single year, the Icarus makes a round and deposits the Catachan regiments, on their new jungle planets, while other ships carry forges and tech-priests, plus immigrants and servitors to begin colonization.

Sadly, my brother Veryon did not completely succeed in his task, and only half of the northern Orks have agreed to board cheap transport to be sent to fight the Necrons.

He might have, if he didn't try to battle an Ork boss in melee. Some sort of manliness ritual I guess?

Oh well. Orks are strong and die hard. Don't wrestle Orks in your next life, silly brother from another mother!

My daughter Teresa has command of the northern fleet now, as she isn't the type to wrestle, except perhaps in bed. She has a dozen kids already, which is amazing. I will need to reward her effort with 10 thousand thrones, just like I do for everyone else.

Those Eldar cruisers have all sold for 10 billion each, even damaged as they were. I can sponsor population growth for a century easily, and make sure the new generations are get low level technician training, on the outer colonies.

The Hive Cities are a different problem, as the local Nobles would oppose mass literacy projects out of inertia or fear.

But I don't need the all the Hives cities civilized, only my capital and the outlying towns.

Starting from the top, and with the young generations...and then working my way down. There are enough tech-priests here to keep the utilities and other services working, but to create a factory world will need educated people, or at least 10 percent of them.

The celebrations for my return last for a whole month, with military parades and pict-projections of our fleet actions in the Badab War, the crusade in the Magog Sector and the valiant defense of Forge Angstrom from traitor forces.

Of course, I do not stay for all that, instead returning to my Blank village, which has grown into a modern town by now.

Here, everyone is educated and civilized, and my tech-priests make sure there are training courses and various schools for every important specialty. Military arts and officer schools, manufacture and production, medicine and botany.

Over 5000 Blanks, now joined by a new batch of Silent Sisters and my freshly born kids.

Alana is ecstatic as we visit the place, and nobody recoils in fear from her Pariah aura. "This is wonderful, Pef! Everything is so clean and bright, and everyone is a Blank! It's like a dream."

Many of the Machine Spirits in this place, from the Gellar generators to the Void Shields and the defensive batteries are also Blank, using organic components harvested locally.

However, only 200 men are of age for Astartes recruitment but it will do for now, one Company for my Lamenters and another for the Blood Angels, in exchange for more gene-seeds.

Spread around the town's center are the family centers, basically 200 large mansions housing the harems of the Blank men, including my own and Victor's.

Even Catachans cannot resist so much concentration of null psyche, so the women are housed at some distance, just to keep them sane. Pregnant women are even more sensitive, but there's nothing else I can do.

And yet, no other miracle like Janice has appeared, despite two more psykers being born, and sent to the Scola Progenium on Terra via Antax.

In another village, we have the Navigator compound, which I visit sometimes to find another resilient psyker like Rose. No luck so far, but then these kids are not soul-bound to the Emperor, which reformats their mind to withstand the Warp and all its nightmares. They live under a Gellar field, and train their abilities slowly and more gently. I'm in no rush anyway.

I did capture hundreds of new Navigators, which simply get released at the edge of the compound a few at the time. Miracles happen all the time, even more so for Navigators and astropaths.

And of course, once in a while an empty ship simply appears in orbit, or in the asteroid field, devoid of crew but otherwise undamaged.

Pirate destroyers, Astral Claws destroyers, even an intact Battle Barge with Mantis Warriors symbols. Finder's keepers is the rule, so I get to keep these ships, and it's even legal.

Decima is suspicious and Hestia outright tells me I am the one responsbile. "I agree, my dear. Of course I brought a Battle Barge here, with my mind. Worship me!" I proclaim heroically and point at the sky.

Sadly, the null maiden simply slices a finger across her armored gorget, which covers her neck. No luck!

Captain Aphael from the Blood Angels arrives one day, and brings with him Ludvaius and Rafen, which is great.

"You got your own Chapter, I see. Not bad for a whiny trader." Rafen comments wryly at my pretty Astartes armor and Sanguinary Guards.

"It wasn't my idea, you know? They kinda forced me into this. And the Angel showed up to enforce the claim." I defended myself while shaking hands with the three of them.

"You've grown taller, Captain. Still got that baby face though." Ludvaius observes smartly. Well, he does have savant implants, so it makes sense.

"Ladies love it, so I can't complain. I'm not like you guys, impregnating men with your seed. I'm modest like that.'" I laud myself while Chaplain Delos slaps his helmet in despair. Probably shouldn't have said that out loud.

Captain Aphael simply smiles serenely and gestures me aside. And thus, we seclude ourselves in my Master quarters, which might be inspired by all those Fabricators I have visited, thus it has at least a thousand relics and armor bits for decoration.

"Nice quarters, Lord Pef. You almost get the feeling right. But the baby face spoils everything." he comments in a joking tone.

"Did I get some gene-seeds?" I ask more to the point.

The Astartes Captain picks up a Grav-gun and plays with it, possibly trying to scare me. But I fear nothing, because I cheat.

He gets frozen in my tesseract while I restore the weapon on its mantle and sit at my desk, and then unfreeze him. "Gene-seeds?" I ask as if no time as has passed at all, or he got lost in thought while I moved around.

Being mysterious is a bit risky, but this time it works. "I have heard of your 'strange' powers, Master Lancefire. Brother Ludvaius was adamant about that, and our new Librarian Mephiston agrees. The Angel watches over you...which is not a bad thing at all."

"One day...I will reach the same size as a Primarch. My mind grows in strength every year, and so does my body. And for that, I can only thank Ludvaius, for calling that Angel. How is Mephiston, did he take the spear yet?" I ask as if it has already happened.

Captain Aphael sighs, and looks around my quarters again. "Not yet, but I believe it will happen soon. They are still testing him for corruption. The last adventure of Brother Arkio has made everyone paranoid, and that Chaos Sorcerer in our dungeon doesn't help at all."

"Still got nothing out of him? His name is Fabius, of some traitor legion. I hope you did chop off his limbs at least. The only use of those limbs would be to escape, right?" I ask rhetorically. His face tells me they didn't consider it.

A bunch of childish naive idiots, all of them.

"That's...so dishonorable...and logical. Raised by a tech-priest, and it shows." the angelic Astartes comments in a sad voice.

"I wouldn't care if that guy gets to the grail and steals the blood, except my kids are there. If they get killed by your stupidity, I will retaliate. What about the accomplice, that whatever guy who invited the sorcerer inside your fortress? Still alive?" I ask curious.

Captain Aphael blinks and stares at me for a minute. Seems they didn't even investigate the crime...oh well. No wonder Inquisitors could play these naive giants like puppets.

"It seems I need to return to my ship and place an astropath call to our fortress. Wouldn't want your sons to die for our stupidity. I hear a lot of places got exterminated without warning." he says a bit wary.

I smiled politely. "Commorragh was the most difficult. Will have to turn my attention on them again, I heard of a Drukhari raid on that Agri World... It seems they didn't get the message, so I'll have to insist." I muse to myself softly.

Astartes have great hearing anyway. I'm sure he got the message, unlike the crazy Dark Eldar.

Then again, I was an Angel of Death now. Might as well prove it, with some death and mayhem.

Not right now, because I wanted to finish this Dhol_VI campaign and exterminate both the Orks and the Necrons there. Perhaps capture the C'tan shard they had.

My battleships already had the new warp-less engines, plus two torpedo cells of 100 torpedo each, but that was merely an emergency measure, just in case we got invaded by something. The battleships were not combat ready, and will not be for 5 decades.

I wanted them plated in adamantium and blackstone, just like I was doing for all the Lamenters and the heavy tanks of my armor regiments.

Same thing for my battlecruisers, starting with the Canticle, then the gifted Mercury from Forge Kronos, and then the other two we haven't 'discovered' yet.

My mind made up, I began sending orders to my fleet to prepare for a limited deployment.

One battle barge, two cruisers armed with Nova Cannons, and 20 destroyers. Blackstone had been lined around the engine room and the bridge for those ships, which would make Warp travel somewhat safer.

A very small fleet, given what my dynasty could field, but this would be just a small incursion.

A minute later, Ludvaius and Rafen ran inside my quarters with wide grins on their faces. "Another crusade? We have to come!"

I smiled kindly and nodded. "Sure, why not? But I do need those gene-seeds...someone did bring them, right?"

"Yes, Lord Pef! They are being transported on the Starfort right now...but I guess Captain Aphael didn't tell you. So you have more Blank sons already? You sure work hard!" my bodyguard praised me with a knowing look.

What could I say to that? I worked hard every day!

"Go to my forgemaster and have him fit you with new armor plates. I thought I sent some of those plates, with the barge I gifted your Chapter..." I demanded as I noticed they lacked the blackstone plates that all my other Astartes had already.

"Not Codex approved, or something. Our Librarians don't like them." Ludvaius explained in a sadder voice.

"Right, because protection from the Warp must be in the Codex...I see. Just like growing wings is in the Codex. One day I will visit Baal and straighten your Chapter out. I'll ask the to Angel explain things, while I beat a few defenseless librarians with their books."

I mutter in annoyance.

By next day, the fleet is on the way, while Captain Aphael has departed for Baal with 100 new Blank recruits. Technically, I could give them more, but I want these men to be educated and have their own kids before they leave.

Critical thinking and a basis for science and technology will help them more in their lifetime of strife that will end in brutal death.

My sons and grandsons will not be farmer boys manipulated into traps and plots by whatever enemy comes first.

Back on Illevar, my Apothecary and Sanguinary Priests have already began implantation for new techmarines, plus a Company of Blank Lamenters.

Couldn't help with that part, except proving good quality gene-seeds.

The Red Scorpions genes will work well-enough for the non-combat roles, be they herbalists or lorekeepers or tech-marines.

My Apothecary confirmed they had 94 percent purity, which was amazing for this era.

And because the Blood Angels did not lose the original blood of Sanguinius, they had even higher purity.

The dead bodies of my Lamenters were simply sent to Forge Antax without extracting the gene-seed at all. If the Mechanicus wanted the gene tithe they could have it all, 900 dead Brothers, paid in advance.

And so said my written message to the Fabricator-General. "Do not expect more of it, trying new gene stuff that's not damaged in fabrication. Their armor better be in excellent shape when returned."

Following our fleet was a forge ship and a dozen mineral barges with mining equipment, just in case we accidentally found more blackstone to mine.

And 3 weeks later, we arrived at Dhol to find the planet embroiled into a large scale Waagh, and a hundred Ork ships bombarding the Necron positions.

A golden figure, at least 50 meters tall and trailing whips made of living stone was battling a pair of giant Ork Gargants, while thousands of Necron machines and millions of Warriors supported it from afar.

Then under my eyes, the golden figure turned right towards my fleet and smiled, with a tingle of mental communication trying to reach my mind. Must be the Crimson_God then, he felt similar to Zarhulash, the C'tan from Sotha.

I was pretty sure the C'tan could have won easily, but perhaps it wasn't often the Necrons let it out to play.

A salvo from a Gargant passed right through the C'tan and pulverized a few Necron divisions, as the Crimson God became phased and untouchable.

Perhaps he was worried I might use some psyker power?

Necrons were still vulnerable to that, and so were the C'tan.

"Captain, do we engage the Orks?" I heard the gunnery officer ask in anticipation.

I held my left hand up for silence, just as Alana tried to speak. "Wait...they have a C'tan. I want to see what it can do."

The ship's holoscreen couldn't get the high detail I could observe via the tesseract labyrinth, and most of our long range auguries were slightly distorted by the Waagh field or by some Necron dampening field..or both.

Then something flashed on board an Ork Kroozer, and down on the ground a large Ork boss appeared via teleport.

"Necron God! Fight me....good fight! Waaaagh!" the idiot mushroom screamed as his orkish underlings cheered him on.

The Gargants stopped firing and a sort of impromptu ring formed with the C'tan and the Ork Boss inside.

A giant lighting claw stuck the C'tan in the chest, and the Ork tried to head-butt the larger enemy in mid-jump.

And then the figure smiled, with red teeth. "I do enjoy a good fight, but most of all, I enjoy bloodshed." the C'tan replied politely, ignoring the arcing voltage and the adamantium spikes stuck inside in his stomach.

Instead, the Crimson God grabbed the Ork by the rusty spiked shoulders, and kept him in mid-air with the trailing chains...and then ripped the Ork Boss to shreds. He was still smiling, like this was a great day.

I sighed inward. Damn boss had been too weak.

Fighting resumed, but without much coordination for the green mushrooms, especially as the Ork ships began vanishing from orbit. That might have been my fault, but I'm not sorry.

In an hour, the Gargants were destroyed and the Necron armies began advancing, massacring million after milllion of greenskins, their gauss rifles and many other weapons no longer ineffective.

I decided to risk it. A flick of my gloved finger plunged an Atmospheric Incendiary torpedo right on the other side of the planet and exploded, rapidly igniting all the air and biomass and spreading fast around the globe.

"My Lord, that seems to be an Exterminatus!" Chaplain Delos observed in horror.

"Please make a point with that. All I see is two xenos fighting each other. Exterminatus is the correct sollution, as per the Codex, isn't it?" I asked in a sterner tone.

I waited for the flames to engulf the smiling C'tan and then I tried to wisk him away in my labyrinth. An immense headache blinded me, and the golden being vanished, falling though the ground towards a tomb deep underground.

Damn it! I have failed

It hurts my pride to have failed, and the damn headache is certainly not natural.

I suspect the Necron Lord or Pharaoh has some type of mind control shackle over the C'tan, which kinda makes sense in hindsight. However the tesseract labyrinth worked, it wasn't able to unbind the C'tan, which sucked for me.

"The xenos are eliminated, Lord Pef! The world burns!" Alana proclaims naively. My headache still pulses painfully in my temples.

I shrug and reply softly. "On the surface. The C'tan allowed the world to burn...perhaps to cleanse the Orks from this world. He used us."

"What now, Captain?" Brother Ludvaius asks in a curious tone.

"Nothing else we can do here, Brother. The flames will burn for months, and the C'tan cannot be damaged by mortal weapons. We shall move onwards and scour the world of Draven of the same xenos." I answer after considering for a minute.

Necron Tomb World of Draven is also a part of the Novokh Dynasty, and also under attack by Orks, several Waaghs in fact.

In less than a day, we arrive at the nearby by Necron world to find it mostly conquered by Orks, at least the surface.

A hundred Ork Roks and a similar number of Ork ships, including a couple enormous Terror Ships, and another Ironclad battleship. Blown up fragments of Necron and Ork vessels litter the void, even some Eldar derelicts and a dozen Navy troop transports.

There has been a failed invasion here, or a number of them.

On the ground, Ork Meks are casually repurposing captured Necron weapons and anti-grav platforms into Orkish machinery powered by pedaling gretchins and steam engines, Painboyz are grafting Necron limbs on their greenskin brethren and their Ork Warboss wears proudly an armor of ancient runic necrontyr origin, and holds a 5-meter-long nucleonic lance like a pistol.

These Orks are winning, and would become hard to stop for any human force. In orbit above Draven, the same thing happens, blackstone armor is slapped on top of their ragged warships, and because blackstone is black it increases in durability even further.

Eldar brightlances and Necron Gauss cannons are being welded beside macrocannons and plasma batteries, turning their Kroozers and Battleship into formidable death machines.

The spectacle is very impressive and a bit scary. My fleets chances are minimal against such overwhelming firepower, and our torpedoes will probably not damage their larger warships, not enough.

"Wentian, Nova Cannon on the Ork battleship. Destroyers, dive for torpedo strike on my mark. Maintain passive sensors only." I command and relax in the Captain chair.

Canis nudges my left glove, and eyes the fleet arrayed on the holoscreen. I know buddy, we will steal their stuff, like we always do.

Just need a flare and smoke screen. Using xeno tech openly would likely get me flayed alive or something of that nature. But a potent Ork Waagh to deploy when needed? That would be awesome too.

"Target at maximum range, Captain. Firing!" Wentian announces on the clan's vox channel, after maneuvering into an advantageous firing position.

Much farther range than even our long range torpedoes, the Nova Cannons are the strongest classical weapon in humanity's arsenal.

Sure, there are Warp Vortex weapons, but those are not classical, nor available to normal Navy units.

As expected, not even the Nova shell is powerful enough to destroy the blackstone plated Ork Ironclad, and merely disables the void shields.

In the same instant of sensor blindness, a dozen capital Ork ships vanish in my pocket dimension, while my left gauntlet pats Canis on his wise head. He does have good ideas, my smart wolf.

The Ork Boss and his nearby Mek and Nob guards, as well as a hundred Stompas and Gargants titan-class behemoths vanish as well, while another Exterminatus torpedo detonates on the far side of the planet.

I need this Warboss to maintain the Waagh field, and this is both bad and good.

Good because their silly adaptations will keep working. Bad because the damn Ork Boss is slowly moving inside the labyrinth, his Waagh field helping him overpower the dimensional differential. Oh well, it would take him years to escape, and I don't plan to keep him for years.

Of course, right now the Ork fleet is becoming a mess, Orks fighting each other for dominance while their greenskin fellows burn alive on the surface of Draven.

The Ork Roks are useless to me, but they will help in my plans, at least several of them still filled with Ork boyz and other troops.

"Good shot, Wentian. That battleship has vanished...somewhere." I praise my uncle, yet allowing for the ironclad's miraculous reappearance over a friendly Forge World, like Retribution.

"Indeed Captain. Let's hope your luck holds and that vessel will return to us empty of xenos...just like it has happened before." my uncle replies in a teasing voice.

Well, Rogue Traders are not brainwashed zealots, and they can add two plus two. Pretty much the only free thinkers remaining in the Imperium, or outside it.

"If that's the Emperor's Will, uncle…then we will gladly accept such a gift." I comment piously.

My bodyguards all snort in disbelief, except Chaplain Delos who prays loudly for another miracle. Don't worry, Brother. I'm just getting started.

Alana kisses my cheek for good luck, and whispers a promise in my ear. If that promise will end with a dozen more Blank kids, then we're all set.

I urge the Serenity for the Vanquished onward, which works better now with the upgraded Trazyn-class reactor. Even if we cannot install the gigantic warp-less drive on the barge yet, the reactor is slightly more manageable.

By chopping off some support beams and reducing the length of the inner walkways, the battleship-grade reactor can and has been installed on battle barges. Well, on this barge for now, the Serenity.

It is still a plasma reactor after all, if somehow three times stronger and more efficient. For fuel is used hydrogen with jets of oxygen to increase temperature and burn rate, which also makes refueling easier, and at need simply scooping out cometary ice.

One day every vehicle of humanity will have a miniaturized version of the Macharius-pattern plasma reactor, and shields and weapons of higher strength and reliability.

It just takes enormous effort and long time to start meaningful changes in the Imperium.

Even now, after decades of spreading new and better templates, the Astra Militarum still doesn't have new vehicles or ground support aircraft.

Elite regiments here and there do receive a few of my earliest templates, durable tracks and night vision sensors for example, but that's only a drop in the ocean.

The Imperium of Man is very resistant to change, and various organizations work hard to maintain their grip and control over the military powers, especially the Administratum. Of course, the Astartes and the Forges here in the Ultima sector have fewer qualms about adapting to better designs and more powerful weapons, like I have found out when my troops invaded Badab and fought against serfs and aspirants vehicles armed with triple-barrel multilasers and hunter-killer missiles.

For another week we skirmish with the remaining Orks, giving my captains valuable experience in naval warfare, while I keep absconding human origin ships and a couple of Ork Roks filled with a billion green mushrooms.

The Forge ships and the mining barges will remain here to exploit the orbital graveyard, and the first mining barge leaves with hull fragments of Necron origin towards Forge Ryza.

I leave a couple of destroyers to defend the miners and most importantly the Forge ship as I take my fleet on a trip to Sotha.

I have need of the Pharos again, and perhaps arrange a deal with my Rose and the Scythes of the Emperor.

A month of ship travel brings us to the edge of the Sotha system, when our warp drives start to fail.

"Captain...the Tyranids are here!" my Navigator announces in a distorted voice, as if he's in enormous pain.

Of course the Tyranids have returned. Sotha still shines in the Warp, drawing Hive splinters that intersect the lighthouse's psychic beam.

"Captain Lancefire! Request assistance...Hive Ship attacking the Aegida..." a crackled voice comes from the vox box.

"Wentian, you heard the brave Astartes. Begin Nova Cannon bombardment!" I urge my uncle while I close my eyes to encompass the Hive splinter with the tesseract.

There are over 10 thousand bioships, and a pair of Hive ships among them, one of which appears to have been struck with a vortex torpedo, and is battling demonic invaders.

The other one is indeed attacking the Aegida Fortress, ignoring the Scythes' Barges and the cruisers unloading all their lances and batteries on it.

What could be so yummy inside the Fortress? Oh no...silly Inquisitors. You didn't keep the psyker Eldar still here, did you?

Of course, they did. Common sense is in short supply in the galaxy, and every wrong decision brings about more unfortunate accidents.

"Evacuate the Eldar on a fast ship. Draw the Hive Ship away!" I demand on the vox channel with the Inquisitorial Fortress.

Only silence answers, which isn't great. They must have orders to keep the Eldar at any cost. I search for my Rose...and she's not here. Only a group of 20 Silent Sisters, guarding the Eldar prisoners with stern faces and executioner blades.

The other Inquisitor is here, but down inside the Pharos, doing whatever arcane examinations on the imprisoned C'tan.

It's a mess, and one that I have to fix.

Canis licks my face for moral support, and glances at the Holofield screen with intelligent eyes.

Yeah, buddy! We will need to cheat again