51-59

An imposing Librarian rushed to the side of Arkio, standing watch as my tech-priest deftly disassembled the golden power armor, and threw the golden pieces towards me.

I waved an Armed Sentinel to pick up the irregular armor for me.

"Now, Astartes. What should I do with your traitor Chapter?" I asked Ludvaius in a soft voice.

While I never claimed to be an Inquisitor, I did carry a Rosette, and Ludvaius knew exactly who gave it to me, as he has been in the bedroom when I gifted Rose her children.

In this case, politics made excellent bed fellows.

The Veteran looked with pity at his deluded Battle-Brothers. "You will do what is best, like you always do, Lord Pef. Even the sacred spear doesn't harm you one bit."

Right, I still had that idiot stuck to my spear. "Captain Thrasius, head and heart if you will. We don't need a Great Demon to spring out and maybe ruin my excellent Canticle."

Two loud bangs sounded, as the phase-iron bolts struck the traitor, with bone shattering energy and psyker inhibitor effect. Eh, should be enough.

I withdrew the spear and stood ready to strike, but nothing arose from the shattered brain and chest of the excommunicated Inquisitor.

"Every one of you Astartes, come and taste the truth. Guardsmen, about face and return to barracks!" I yelled through my vox box attached to my helmet, then tapped my helmet with my free hand.

Ludvaius reacted promptly and took off my helm, and locked it to my belt.

The Scythes' Captain advanced first and scooped a tiny piece of brain, then ate it. Space Marines could indeed absorb memories this way, which made quite a great way for fact checking.

Sure, there was also torture and Mechanicus mind downloads, but the Inquisition would know how to protect their own, with implanted mental defenses and mind mazes.

He soon scowled and spat in disgust. "Malfallax !, the fool sold his soul to a demon."

I remembered that bit, but not everything. It wouldn't matter though.

"They are still not listening, Sergeant Ludvaius. Oh well. I guess we're visiting Baal next. I still have that golden torpedo." I announced with distaste, then turned around and began walking away.

My words possibly remembered the Blood Angels that their autonomy and powers were still at the behest of the Imperium.

And Astartes did have good hearing. They had just elected not to obey.

Captain Thrasius ran after me, just as I began flipping the Rosette like a coin.

"Lord Lancefire, wait! They are tasting the truth, now." he spoke hastily.

I didn't stop, but instead returned the Rosetta to its protective casing at my back.

"Isn't this spear supposed to be heavy and too hard to use?" I asked instead, trying a few left-handed stabs at the air.

The Ogryns saluted with their own adamantium staves, probably thinking something stupid.

"Guard the hangar door, brave soldiers of the Emperor. Nobody is allowed in my ship, unless I say so." I commanded them via the vox beads implanted in their inner ears.

Leaving the Blood Angels stranded in the hangar, I rushed towards my Sentinels carrying the loot. "Deposit everything separately, item by item at the vault entrance. I'll send the tech-priests to purify the items if it is needed. Do no touch them with hands or anything organic."

"Roger that, Captain. Nice spear too!" a Catachan pilot replied irreverently. Almost like they were raised in a jungle...wait. They were.

More pilots started hooting and describing my bravery, although I did nothing of that sort. Well, except stealing the spear, from a demoralized Astartes.

And stabbing a sleeping man.

Well, legends were formed like that. In a thousand years, the myths might I say I slayed a dragon and an angel wept.

On the way, I did encounter some tech-priests and had my orders transmitted up the chain, then to the relevant priests with the specific database knowledge. Chaos artifacts and purification.

The Cult Mechanicus was still a religion at the base, and thus their prayers and rituals worked, because a trillion tech-priests believed they worked.

They also had more practical experience, due to their Forge Worlds being constantly attacked by nearly every enemy possible.

The missile corvettes and destroyers will soon change that, and hopefully reduce the Imperium's dependence on capital ships for defense.

After Shenlong, I wouldn't return to the Empire. My sons and daughters will still trade and exchange goods, but getting involved in politics would place me in the sights of more corrupt individuals with immense power.

Bluffing once might have worked, but it wouldn't work again.

A hundred tech-priests from a dozen clades arrived to examine and sanctify my loot, and quickly separated a few valuable relics that I could use.

A Rosarius, looking like belt buckle with a griffon on it. Basically a portable faith-based forcefield, with minor defense unless you were a true believer, in which case it could tank Titan-class wepaons.

A ring, with a wolf paw on the signet, which could detect movement and sounds for a hundred meters and alert the user.

Another ring, with a monkey face with long canines, could fire once with a lascannon beam. The priests didn't know how to recharge it. Very likely xeno-tech.

An Inquisitor coded book, with agents and informants and secret routes. Very useful for Rose, no doubt.

The big staff itself, acting like a psyker focus and a shield barrier against other psykers. Nice, but I lacked that gene myself. Rose maybe.

The Rosette and its covering case, disguised as a holy book. The other Rosette was coded to the traitor and will have to be sent to Terra.

The case was a Null_Box, so it could even tank battleships lances, for a million years.

I kept the book case, of course. It was more precious than my battlecruiser. Perhaps I could mount the box on my chest, as a heart plate. Would look a bit bulky, but I had battleship-strength enemies. And I could store stuff inside as well, so win-win.

The golden power armor was artificier-grade, and had everything a space marine could want. Well, except the wings flap, which will need to be covered, as I lacked wings.

The Inquisitor power armor was same grade, but didn't require a Black_Carapace organ to use, nor Astartes muscles and size. Confiscated as battle loot from boarding actions.

Then a dozen more mundane weapons, knives, poisons and garrote wire, truth serums and chemical sprays with euphoric and paralyzing effects, bolter, inferno pistol, dart thrower, grappling hook, a few grenades with various effects, from viruses to vortex and incendiary.

The guy had been loaded and armed for bear. But he didn't use what the Inquisition trained him to, instead he relied on psyker powers and his Astartes escort.

"Captain, some red Astartes are making noise at the hangar door. Permission to ventilate?" A Catachan officer wondered as his buddies in the Armed Sentinels whirred their chainsaws loudly in the background.

"Not yet, Major. I'll be right there soon." I spoke calmly and directed the priests to store the good loot in the vault, including the nicest spear ever.

"What do you want to do with these foul items, Captain?" the priest asked me pointing at some red candelabra and other ritual items.

I hummed deep in thought. "Can they be melted into bolt rounds? Might be nice to have something that harms Eldar souls."

The priests all stopped to stare at me. "They would go straight to hell, Lord Pef. The foul Immaterium demons would feast on their souls." one of them said a bit wary.

I nodded and walked away. "A hundred rounds then. Eject what's left into the sun."

It was time to receive my own Astartes Company, like I always wanted.

A short trip on the elevator saw me adjusting the Rosarius on my belt. I wouldn't tank even a Knight with my feeble faith, but Astartes were two steps lower on the danger scale, with dreadnoughts and Sentinels in between.

I was probably safe, unlike the faithless Inquisitor. I mean, even an Angel came to my help once, although I surely repaid that debt by killing Lorgar and saving him another frayed body or soul.

"You seem curiously happy, going to meet a hostile Company of Blood Angels." Captain Thrasius commented after checking his bolter again.

"You should be too, my friend. I bet you have never killed an Inquisitor before, right?" I asked rhetorically.

You never heard of people offing full Inquisitors. Those guys could battle Daemon Princes in hand to hand. Chaff like a Rogue Trader wouldn't even register as a threat.

Then I arrived at the hangar deck, and pushed through the angry guardsmen who were ready to open up on the Blood Angels with melta guns and krak missiles. And possibly other weapons not registered.

"It's the Captain!"

"Make way, wanna get roasted by accident?"

"Now these traitors will pay!"

I emerged among the huge Ogryns, all holding their adamantium shields and staves menacingly.

"Good jobs, big guys. Let me talk with your smaller cousins." I spoke on the vox bead and stepped out as the Ogryns made a path for me.

"Lord Lancefire, we were deceived..." the Librarian began in a pleading tone.

"I know you were, Astartes. You don't seem very sorry though, threatening my people and all." I spoke while walking right in his face.

"Perhaps we could talk in private, Lord Lancefire?" he begged in a softer tone.

I nodded and walked past him. "Magos, you found the source?" I asked my Biologis expert, standing over a slightly dissected Arkio.

"It is not curable, Captain. In fact, it has been getting worse...since the traitor died." he explained while waving a tentacle for urgency.

I turned towards the Librarian, who seemed to be in charge. "Take him to your barge. I would offer him mercy, but I don't have any. May the Emperor save his soul."

"May I ask you to accompany us? The Captain asks every minute to speak to you. And Brother Ludvaius." he whispered in a low voice.

"Captain Thrasius, you are to return to Ultramar and enact revenge, if I don't return." I commanded and patted his shoulder.

"As you say, Lord Pef. There will be no place for the traitors to hide." he spoke sternly and departed without looking back.

I ignored the outraged looks of the Blood Angels and walked on, and entered their nice Stormbird lander.

I could use a few more like this one. Nobody made them, like they did in the old daysThe Battle-Barge was named Bellus, which meant pretty or cheerful, in High Gothic. Also, a pun for war.

Their Brother-Captain Ideon was leading the 6th Company, and awaited me as the transport landed in their much larger battleship class barge.

"Lord Lancefire...we have been tricked by that corrupt warp-spawn of an Inquisitor." he began in a meek voice and fell to one knee.

Well, there were only Blood Angels around, and they too followed their Captain, with the Librarian visibly struggling to bend his knee in rage.

"I am not an Inquisitor, Astartes. Out in the Fringe, my Warrant as a Rogue Trader already says I speak with the Voice of the Emperor. But, I find a Rosetta very helpful when travelling the Imperium, filled as it is with treachery and corruption. Like today, for example." I announced in a loud voice, and waved them to their feet.

"So, the Exterminatus was just an empty threat? I would say it worked wonders." the man replied in a relieved voice, and stood straight again.

I just turned towards Ludvaius. "He knows me better."

"Captain Ideon. Lord Pef did enact Exterminatus on the Chapter-homeworld of the Scythes of the Emperor. And a few days ago, he killed Lorgar, the traitor. I have seen it myself." my bodyguard proclaimed proudly.

It did have an effect, as claiming valorous deeds by yourself was common among the Nobles of the Imperium. Having a Brother confirm it as a witness, was different. Especially a Veteran Sergeant.

The Captain nodded cautiously and went to examine their corrupted brother Arkio. Pustules of infected flesh were spreading along the spine, and the taint would be palpable to those with psyker powers. The Librarian shook his head in defeat, and signaled something with his fingers. No recovery possible, most likely.

"Oh, you idiot Arkio. What did you do?" the man lamented in a mourning voice, then his hand flashed, decapitating the sick Astartes and ending his suffering. "May the Emperor grant him Mercy."

"Back to your posts, Astartes! Don't just stare like it's a pict show. You will all die one day, and probably in worse ways." I shouted pointing at the gawking spectators.

Now it worked, and the lower ranks rushed away inside the Barge.

"I will cremate the remains. Too bad about the geneseed." the Librarian spoke gently and gathered the deceased marine and left with him.

I waited till it was only me and Ideon, who cleaned his power sword while murmuring prayers.

"Take me to the bridge, Captain. We have a Forge World to save, and my fleet spent all munitions already." I demanded after a polite minute.

The Captain nodded and took the lead. "Those destroyers of yours...they seem very potent for such small vessels."

We entered an elevator that should take us to the bridge deck.

"I lost one Los Angeles destroyer already. But the sacrifice has been well paid, I'd say. Two minor Chaos fleets, plus that Primarch and an Enslaver." I admitted with a heavy heart.

In truth, most of my losses have been to Chaos, both ships and family members, with the largest casualties at Estaban. They were indeed the Great Enemy.

"Not so minor fleets, Captain Ideon. A dozen Universe conveyors filled with troops and a battleship with its escort group. A thousand times the mass of Lord Pef's fleet was sunk, in a few days." Ludvaius explained after a snort.

The Astartes Captain focused on me with new eyes. "I have heard of your fantastic exploits, though nothing solid. You always seem to appear at the worst time then vanish again."

I smiled and shrugged. It was my intention after all. "The Navy doesn't like being proved idiots, and they always try to confiscate my ships. Not to mention the Astartes, who always want to injure me, for some unknown reason. The Adepta Sororitas also chase me, and now an Inquisitor. I fear I ruined some carefully planned plots with my mere presence."

Ludvaius chuckled and leaned on the elevator's wall and just nodded at his Captain. "All true. The Chaplain of those Scythes even punched him in the jaw. Took him a few months of bed time to recover."

"Might be your Blank aura, Lord Lancefire. Psykers are rather annoyed by that." The Blood Angels Captain mused to himself.

I nodded wisely. Probably so. Or I was just annoying.

Soon we reached the bridge, the door guarded by a few Sanguinary Guards, with golden power armor.

I just walked ahead and sat in the Captain's chair, linking my mind to the throne controls of the battle-barge. The Machine Spirit was ancient and loyal, and rather surprised at my inopportune visit and usurpation. But I trusted my luck and the genes gifted by the Sanguinor. If I could wield that sacred spear, which should have annihilated an unworthy carrier, then a simple warship couldn't be so tough.

I was wrong.

I mean, right...because I lived. But the pain and resistance from the Spirit was a thousand times stronger than even the Canticle. 'Calm down Bellus. We have a mission, and I have a Rosette with me. Don't make me use it on you.' I sent towards the angry Spirit. Slowly, the resistance ceased, and the ship's functions opened for me.

It must have taken only a second, even if the pain lasted years of subjective time.

"... Lord Lancefire... it's dangerous!" I heard the Captain yell in surprise.

"Ouch! A bit painful, like all Command Chairs. But not dangerous for me. Now let me see, what I can do with Bellus...torpedoes...over 500. Good enough. Batteries, bombardment cannons, fighters, dropships, drop pods. Oh well. At least the void shields are strong. We can use that." I commented while powering up the holoscreen and marking the Siege fleet by priorities.

Two enemy battleships, 9 cruisers, 30 destroyers. Should be easy.

A decent fleet, but I had a battleship of my own now. On loan.

"Wentian, I'll have the Bellus close in for torpedo transfer. Have the Sentinels ready to assist with logistics." I voxed towards the Canticle. Then I switched channel to the escorts. "Jorvis, bring the destroyers about and line the up for reload. Corvettes, pattern Omicron and auguries to full."

Then I proceeded to do so, carefully balancing vectors to perform the docking maneuver, without breaking the fragile eggs inside.

"I take it you will remain on the Bellus for now, Captain?" I heard Thrasius ask in a suspicious voice.

I thought for a moment then glanced at the Astartes Captain. "I think I will, Thrasius. These flesh-eating cannibals might not follow orders again, and ruin my awesome battle plan. Then, I might lose a battle. Can you imagine that?" I asked rhetorically.

Thrasius laughed as if I said a good joke. "I'll safeguard the bridge here. The Emperor protects!"

"... We're not cannibals." I heard a meek voice from Ideon, while the bridge crew stared at me with concern and anger.

I waved his fake and untrue complaint away. They did just eat a man's brain, only an hour ago.

"Quiet on the bridge! I'm working here." I demanded in a command voice.

The bridge fell silent, as I focused on the delicate piloting of a battleship, only with my weak brain and the savant implants.

About an hour later, the lumbering battle barge finally matched vectors and docked with the Canticle, so I stood up and stretched my tense back.

"Torpedo armory next." I demanded in a flat tone. Captain Ideon grunted and took the lead again, while Ludvaius grinned and held his thumb up for success.

On the elevator, the Astartes glared at me for a whole minute. "The Bellus is gene-coded for the Blood Angels Chapter. Even with that Rosette, you shouldn't be able to control the Machine Spirit."

"I know, right? Must be a miracle from the Emperor." I explained with a careless shrug.

"It's more than that. Our astropaths contacted Lord Commander Dante on Baal. We were ordered to guard your life at all cost." he wondered in a doubtful tone.

They were? Perfect!

"I'll hold you to that, Astartes. Brother Ludvaius keeps trying, but a barge and this Astartes company around me would work better. I keep getting in trouble, for no reason at all." I complained in a meeker voice.

Ludvaius just nodded. "You shouldn't kick a World Eater in the balls next time, Captain. Or any space marine. Nor punch one in the face. And you need better armor and weapons." my bodyguard advised me seriously.

I sighed in defeat. "I'll get better, I promise." I murmured softly.

Just needed to finish the slow transition to my new bodyReloading torpedoes is quite difficult, even in dock. The things are very big and thus heavy. In fact, if you empty the warhead out and weld some seats, it becomes a 50-meter spaceship called a boarding torpedo.

Luckily, I had Armed Sentinels and servitors to help, and transferring 300 torpedoes didn't take very long. Just a single day.

Meanwhile, I continued repairs and had the tech-priests prepare my new power armor, by painting the horrible gold over, with my House colors: green and blue. Possibly a reminder of Terra, before it became a yellow dust ball.

When I emerged in my awesome armor, I felt much stronger and safer, especially with the Null box replacing the ceramite plate on the chest. I kept my Rosette and a few rings inside, also some spare cash and a vox bead, just in case I was left stranded somewhere.

On my hip I had a bolter pistol, with thrice-blessed, cursed and phased bolt magazines, also my trusted Power Dagger, a few grenades and my Rosarius.

Felt much better and looked great, so win-win.

"Lord Pef, you look dangerous now." Ludvaius said turning towards me and nodding approvingly.

Compared to a puppy, I probably was.

Another veteran Blood Angel had joined my friend as my close guard, his name was Rafen.

I checked him out for a second. "Guarding me will be a life long and boring job, Astartes. Plus, you may see things not meant for lesser minds. Thus, you need savant implants."

"So I've been told, Lord Lancefire. But I don't believe it will be boring." the new bodyguard answered in a cheeky tone.

I waved his claims away. "Captain Ideon is on the bridge?"

"Not yet, my lord. The cremation of Arkio has most of our Brothers occupied." he answered with a frown.

I sighed and began heading towards the bridge. Time to settle the score, and wipe out the traitors.

The leader of this Word Bearer fleet was someone called a Dark_Apostle, second-in-command to Lorgar and bitter enemy of the Blood Angels.

It was time to convert his mass into energy.

Soon enough, the fleet was under way, slower than usual, because barges are by definition very slow.

"Set all sensors to autistic mode!" I commanded towards the auspex console.

The neophyte blinked at me in confusion. Damn it.

No wonder these Astartes ships were always being boarded, and they had huge fights among delicate machinery.

I leaned into the command chair and simply turned off all sensors and auspex consoles from the override control in the chair. Not like I actually needed a big crew, with such a potent Machine Spirit for navigation and targeting.

"Torpedo room, load a Vortex torpedo in tube 6. All other tubes with plasma warheads." I demanded after checking the loadout from the Bellus, and getting confused then angry.

Whoever has heard of incendiary and atomic warheads pre-loaded as default?

I mean, it was nice to have them, in case some place needed cleansing, but first one had to control the orbitals, which meant ship combat, which meant anti-ship torpedoes. Damn idiots.

"...Errr. Where is Captain Ideon?" the voice on the vox asked instead.

I turned towards Rafen. "Go there and shoot whoever doesn't listen. There's a big pyre for idiots in the hangar, might as well clean house while the fuel burns."

To his credit, Rafen simply pounded his chest and ran off, loading his bolter, and checking his hip for sufficient ammunition.

The neophyte at the auspex console lowered his hand and stared at his black screen without asking the idiot question. Good enough.

And then, I just waited, because barges are slow.

Not doing nothing, as I did have a lot of things to check on the Bellus, from secret vault rooms to concealed armories and ritual chambers for blood infusion, to the other systems, reactor and Gellar field and weapon batteries.

They all worked, but Bellus was unhappy at the shoddy maintenance. There were a hundred spacefigters lying in disrepair, for lack of time or skilled workers. Hundreds of tanks and other vehicles with numerous problems, and the teleportarium haven't been repaired in 5000 years.

Nothing I could do right away, but there was a Forge World right here, and plenty specialist tech-priests already on the Canticle.

Then I felt a Blood Angel moving to stand by my side, and peek at the command holoscreen. Then again, most of the tactical consoles were blank now.

"Who are you?" I asked without turning.

"Astartes Solus, X.O. on the Bellus." he answered curtly.

"Alright Solus, you may stay, if I have questions not found in the Machine Spirit." I allowed generously.

I could hear his teeth grinding. "This is highly irregular Lord Lancefire. We are flying blind right now." Solus muttered, possibly upset.

"Oh, you were not blind before? I changed my mind, go oversee the torpedo room, Astartes Solus. The people there refuse to follow orders." I said in a soft voice, like talking about weather.

Astartes were smart, but so naive it was cringing.

Sanguinius reborn!

No wonder entire Chapters or Legions fell to Chaos.

"Brother Ludvaius, today you are Sanguinius reborn! These morons will believe it, I can bet a throne on it. We'll see about tomorrow, I have a puppy with holy blood back on the Canticle. Kids love him, so he must be Sanguinius." I proclaimed pointing at my bodyguard.

Solus grunted as if in pain and left the bridge, while Ludvaius began posing heroically for his Brothers.

"You heard Lord Pef! Today, you witness our Primarch, returned from death. Minus one eye and wings." he announced with his Power Maul held high.

Everyone on the bridge seemed rather skeptic. As if they weren't ready to crucify me a few hours ago.

Ludvaius glanced around and holstered his weapon on his back. "You owe me a throne, Captain. They didn't believe me." he added with a smug face.

I ignored his demand for a bribery and relaxed in the chair.

A few hours later, the fleet began to approach the torpedo limit.

"Battlestations! Heavy weapons, deploy on the larger hallways. Astartes, guard the Gellar generator, the reactor and whatever else we may need to fly. Medical crew, prepare to receive wounded. And everyone else, pray hard!" I ordered on the intercom vox.

Then I started maneuvers to avoid getting targeted by long range weapons, and fired two torpedoes at the nearest Chaos cruiser.

"Jorvis, same trick" I sent to my escort destroyers.

To their credit, in a minute the bridge received a dozen Astartes with full gear, ready to protect this vital part of the fleet, meaning myself.

And then the torpedoes started flying, and I launched the fighters and plowed straight into the midst of the Chaos fleet, contrary to all tactical sense.

There was a method to my madness, as pretty soon the Chaos battleships were hit by 50 torpedoes each and began drifting into the void, while my barge unloaded the other torpedoes and the batteries on the destroyers who just flew about without evading or dodging.

The Bellus rammed and simply crushed 3 Chaos destroyers without slowing down, and we arrived over Shenlong with half our void shields intact.

In my wake, the Canticle followed and unleashed its own torpedoes and lances, blowing up the wounded ships then turned at speed and departed to regroup with the destroyers below.

My corvettes stayed with me, providing close support against torpedoes and bombers.

"Vox transmission from Shenlong, Captain! They need help to regain the shipyards and the orbital forts. Their remaining fleet is also forming up behind us." the vox officer announced while writing down the text of the transmission in full.

I nodded but did nothing. Launching an assault under fire would create more casualties, and might even prompt the traitors to suicide, just to kill a few Astartes in a blaze of glory.

"Jorvis, once again, on secondaries." I sent to my uncle while waiting for the torpedoes to reload.

Didn't need to use the vortex warhead with such overwhelming advantage, and a Warp rift might provide the traitors with unexpected help, from someone or something interested in this system.

An hour later, we struck again, this time with Bellus escorted by the Mechanicus fleet, while the Canticle and the destroyers attacked from behind.

It was a massacre, and nothing in the siege fleet survived.

For once, the battle went as planned, with a battleship on my side.

One day I will have one of my own, I promiseOnce the battle was over, my escorts began the tedious task of incinerating whatever dregs still survived in the void, burning the corrupted wrecks with lance and plasma cannons then pushing them into the sun.

There was even a Power-armored traitor marine with a forcefield around him, but a hundred Volcano lances from my corvettes made him convert back to the light.

The Mechanicus protested a little, trying to recover some valuable tech or minerals from the Chaos wrecks, but I wouldn't risk it.

Instead, I launched the servitors and a few tech-priests, some Ogryns and a Catachan regiment with all the Armed Sentinels in support, to cleanse the orbitals of cultist and traitor invaders.

The Blood Angels were only called where traitor marines were spotted, to prevent thousands of casualties to my own troops. They were appropriately brutal, and losses were total on the Chaos side, and moderate for our own.

The liberation worked quite well, and we even saved a dozen docks and three orbital forts, however two corrupted forts had to be torpedoed and lanced into oblivion, while my battlecruiser, the Canticle glassed a Chaos infested Hive city from orbit, using only its powerful lances.

Forge Shenlong got away with minor damage, from an invasion that should have conquered it easily.

The Fabricator General knew that as well, and I was received like a Holy Savior, although a dozen Astartes around me helped secure my image too.

Then we got to chatting in private and trading, and I unloaded two dozen templates on him, including a cheap system-only Volcano-pattern corvette and the Lima-class destroyer, both still with 30 torpedoes, but using twin Volcano cannons instead of single barrel lances for its batteries and a hundred quad-multilasers for point defense.

"This type of ship...no wonder you massacred the traitors so easily. We could build a dozen of them in a few years..." the Red-robed Magos mused to himself.

"I would start with a thousand corvettes. Use 10 docks to mass-produce them, while the other two docks complete the hulls you have already begun. The Bellus will stay to provide cover till you have a large enough fleet to defend yourself." I explained in a gentle voice, and drank the wine in deep thought.

Having the system corvettes will prevent other Admirals from taking them away, because they lacked Warp engines. They also didn't need Navigators, which were rare and expensive.

The Fabricator had even better implants than mine, so he figured it out in a second.

"What about your Favor, Trader Lancefire. Surely there are things we could offer?" he inquired cautiously.

I nodded and pointed at the cogitator screen. "As many light vehicles as I can take. Chimeras and Hydras, Manticores and Basilisks, Rapiers, Centaurs and Sentinels. And as many power armors as can be made for my void marines."

He nodded and waved the screen away. Thousands of light vehicles were not a problem. "Power armors...way too difficult to make in large numbers. Perhaps 20 or so. You have all those Astartes anyway."

"Also, two Lima-class destroyers to replace my loses, and full repair and supplies for my fleet." I added without pushing too hard. His Forge World wasn't in a good shape right now.

The Fabricator sighed and urged me on. Still too little then, so I could fill my plate more.

"This will only cover your liberation efforts. What about the sacred STC templates?" he asked more serious.

This would take some thought. "Force field templates, gravity weapons, better personal weapons for my regiments. Hunter Killer missiles and a forge-factory to make more. Also servitors, enginseers and tech-priests that will fly with me into the Fringe."

"... You mean STC patterns. Not quite legal, such a trade." he whispered fearfully.

I shrugged and smiled. "Donations to an approved religion like the Cult of the Omnissiah are tax free. Aptus_Non. The same with sponsoring an Expedition outside the Imperium. If you have to name me an Explorer, I have the right credentials. Magus Explorer Gyron from Antax has raised me til adulthood."

"What about a transport ship or two, like the other Forge Worlds received?" he demanded with a tiny bit of greed.

Well, I did give everyone some, so why not to his Forge? The man was correct and logical, in his cyborg brain.

"Forge Triplex Phall has priority on those adamantium transport ships. But, perhaps one such transport can be lost during transfer. It happens." I mused to myself wistfully.

"I see. Then perhaps, a few STC copies might be 'lost' and then found by a lucky Rogue Trader. It happens." he answered on the same tone.

You gotta love these Mechanicus guys. They have business in their blood. Not much blood though, unlike the Blood Angels...

"Something else. The Bellus battlebarge is full of ancient machines, just lying there to rust. A smart Fabricator could entice the naive giants to trade the relics for new and stronger machines, like fighters and tanks. Perhaps even offer to repair the teleportarium on the barge, and copy the holy schematics during the service litanies?" I wondered without any ulterior motive.

He waved a few metal tentacles in excitement. "Indeed, Lord Pef. This would be quite valuable to the Mechanicus. We can offer to 'service' and then copy the best technology in the Imperium. But they will not let us, I think."

I grinned with secret knowledge. "Oh they will. Also, I need these rings scanned and copied, and then another thing. Phase-iron mesh, micron scale, both for anti-psyker defense and psyker containment, like walls and tank armor." I explained opening my chest box to retrieve the precious loot. Of course, my Rosette blared at once with coded engrams, before the null box closed.

"That cog-shape Rosette...is it yours, Lord Pef?" he asked cautiously.

"Made for me, by a friendly lady, just in case I got in trouble inside the Imperium. Ah, and I'll need you to send a traitor Inquisitor's body and his Rosette back to Terra. In stasis, if possible. The Astartes shot him with phase-iron bolts, but a great demon might be stronger." I explained in a relaxed voice.

The Fabricator was quite panicked though, understandably. "That would be Ramius Stele, he voxed us when he arrived with the Battle Barge in the system. Correct?"

"I'm not an expert, he could have been a clone or body double or something else. The Inquisitor killed an Astartes with some type of genetic curse, first he grew wings and got stronger, then his body failed and got full of pustules and things. They had to burn the poor boy." I declared in a sadder tone. It hadn't been pretty.

The Fabricator stared at me for a minute, likely going over my exact words and meaning.

"Well, at least I know why the space marines listen to you. This almost seems like corruption..." he mused softly. Just rumours of corruption would be sufficient for an Inquisitor to declare them Excommunicates Diabolus...and then wipe out their Chapter.

I nodded in agreement. "Well, I am trying to find Blank recruits for these cursed Astartes. They are pretty rare, but I have already sent 100 of them to Baal for implantation, and they seem to resist the curse without problem. Estaban and Ryza are working on Blank Machine Spirits with the same type of genes. In a century or two, we might not fear the Enemy so much." I proclaimed in a grander voice, to raise his morale.

I also held my palm out for a Blank blood sample, which the Fabricator collected in a mere second.

"Now this...this is big indeed. I wonder if that's why Lorgar was here, waiting." he mused in worry.

"Probably not. There were too many troops and Titans on those conveyors, just for your small Forge World. I expect he was heading someplace else, and just stopped to check on his Apostole. My lances blew him apart in seconds." I replied with a smug smile.

"... If the Bellus could stay here for a decade, we would have at least 100 of these torpedo corvettes. Maybe enough to defeat a fleet just like this one." The Fabricator said after running some calculations.

"Don't count on it, Magos. Imagine a billion Tyranids bioships. Then a Black Crusade. Then a galactic scale Ork Waaagh. Then a Craftworld or two. After that, a small Necron Dynasty. Followed by a Hrud migration. Soon after, a new Tau Expansion. And so on." I rebutted him while pouring myself more wine.

The Fabricator blinked and glanced at his cogitator screen again. "Right. You forgot other enemies, but I get the point. Ships and more ships."

"Once you have enough, they could be lined up like torpedoes in a Universe-class, with launch rails. And then, you'll be the one Crusading with a million ships. But first, you have to survive, Fabricator. Don't count on me to save you again." I announced and sipped my wine a bit slower.

"You're leaving the Imperium. Probably for the best, considering how the Inquisition might react." he reasoned at light speed.

"Yes. And if you want, there will be a place for a splinter Forge among my worlds. I don't intend to stop at a million ships, with a trillion stars and planets in this galaxy." I said and set my glass down gently.

"Yes...I can see it might work...if you don't get discovered too soon, Lord Pef. A small success is commendable. But grow too big..." he warned me, as if I didn't know.

I knew the risks, of course.

"Come visit the Canticle soon, Fabricator. I have some items that might even the odds a little." I spoke more modestly, and prepared to leave.

"Omnissiah be with you, Pef Lancefire. I'll begin preparing the priesthood for the large tasks ahead." he declared solemnly as I crossed his threshold.

I just nodded with sorrow. Perhaps he would survive now.

At least I gave him a chance. A small chanceGradually, as time passed and orders became easier to obey, I began implementing my personal projects with the Blood Angels.

First replacing the broken machines and fighters with new and functional ones, even a few updated templates made by myself. Then upgrading the auspex sensors and the void shield teleport deflection trick.

And a year later, the more debatable things.

Captain Ideon had little choice but to submit to a minor repair of his barge, with the tech-priests being escorted like criminals from one ship system to another. Not that they would know what and why the tech-priests chanted and bowed and sprinkled oil or incense on some gun battery or targeting cogitator.

"It won't be so bad, Astartes. The cogheads know their machines, and Bellus is in a rather poor shape. Plus, I know very well that teleporting strike teams will be useful, once the device is repaired." I explained and patted his shoulder.

"Not only this, but you're kidnapping 90 Brothers from the Company! And implanting their heads with the Emperor-knows-what contraptions!" he complained in a seething rage.

"Every one of you will be implanted, Astartes! Even yourself, since your minds are so weak that any cultist can manipulate you like puppets. Plus, the implants do help control the Rage and the Thirst, just as the phase-iron dermal hoods will help defend against Warp sorcery." I yelled at him and took out my Rosette.

The blazing light of the sacred cog made him draw back and mutter a prayer. "Stop that! My head will explode!" he growled as his eyes turned red and started weeping bloody tears.

"This artifact is the Mark of the Throne, Astartes. Who sits on that Throne?" I asked in a gentler voice and returned the damn memetic device to its null box.

"The Emperor!" he declared in firm conviction.

"And he is the most powerful psyker to have ever lived. More so now, empowered by the faith of a quintillion humans in the Imperium, praying to him every single day. Even so, the Aquila has two heads. Faith and Reason. Blood and machine."

I continued and drew my glove off.

My left hand was slightly glowing, like it always did when the Emperor was mentioned.

"Every human is touched by the Emperor. Blank, or Psyker or a lowly serf. Even the Ogryns know him, and he knows them. But you are still his son, blood of his blood, diluted as it is with silly blood rituals and geneseeds corrupted. When you pray, he listens because you are the closest thing to his family. He sends his Angels in the hour of need." I whispered and covered my hand before someone else saw it glow. That wouldn't be healthy.

Slowly, his rage drew back, and he glanced at my savant implants with more respect.

"Twin Aquila...just like your Ogryns and their maces. I had been blind." he mused in a regretful voice.

"If I could, I would demand for all Astartes to train as techmarines first. Then medics and generals, ship captains and governors. There will be plenty brutal fighting, but only when you enter your dreadnought." I concluded and started to leave his quarters.

"We are not allowed to rule...outside our recruiting planets." he answered in a meek voice.

"Of course not. Big naive idiots without any common sense. You wouldn't let an Orgyn lead a sector, would you?" I threw over my shoulder as the door opened.

Ludvaius passed a throne coin to Rafen. "I told you they were not fighting, Brother." Rafen declared in a confident voice, then still checked me for scuffle marks.

I ignored their childish games and headed towards the hangar.

Soon it will be time to leave, with a large Astartes group as my bodyguards. Now I was slowly training their minds and teaching them to think, which was frustrating to say the least.

A thousand younger Catachans were selected as Aspirant replacements, at my urging. Already big and strong and skilled in combat, the Catachans should survive the implantation in larger numbers than regular farm boys.

And possibly adapt and thrive as space marines better than other people, especially after receiving the savant implants and some schooling.

Not on my dime, but the Fabricator would have tech priests train their minds as well.

Thrasius and my armored void marines waited in the hangar, with my close Blood Angels right behind me.

" I take it the meeting went well, Captain?" the Scythe asked to make sure.

"No punches, just harsh words." I said with a fake shrug. Not easy to do in power armor.

"I still don't trust them, no matter what penance vows they took." he declared in a cold voice, and glared at the gathered Blood Angels.

I didn't either. I mean...sure they could laugh and joke and appear friendly. But even with hard-wired restraints and phase-iron inhibitors, they could still fall to their blood curse. And then I'd have a horde of blood-thirsty maniacs loose on my ship.

Thus, the melta charges in their jetpacks, keyed to my implant control, just like the Ogryns. They really should learn what machines are for, silly brainwashed zealots.

Very dangerous zealots, with combi-bolters and Power Weapons and even heavier weapons in some squads.

The Thunderfire_Cannon would clear a hallway of intruders in a single second of rapid fire.

The Grav-cannon would squash Chaos marines in their cursed armor, leaving only a blood smear.

Heavy flamers and the Meltagun would deal with heat susceptible enemies, pretty much all of them.

Then the Terminator squads had the classic Assault_Cannon but of high quality for longer combat service and the Frag_Cannon, shooting hollow shells which would fracture on impact with a myriad of adamantium shards.

The new Lima-class destroyers were speeding around the system for their trials, and Forge Shenlong had begun producing the missile corvettes at full tilt, with 10 of them already operational and a second wave on the way.

I was almost done here.

My ship's Gellar generator was undergoing final checks, and a dozen tech priests were clustered inside for some special ritual of awakening, which probably means what you think it does.

Two of my daughters got to become destroyer Captains, including the wonderful Larrisa, who wouldn't let getting pregnant stand in the way of her rank. Catachan husband, as expected.

Why not? These guys had solid genes, and my girls were prettier than the moon.

I only had to hint at an available position and a dozen duels provided the faster and stronger candidates. Not much brains these warrior husbands, but my girls had more brains than me, and that should suffice for their children.

And imagine I still had 20 more girls coming of age soon.

The nursery was crawling with babies as well, because a year in dock was boring and I had a permanent teenager body.

I was running out of available bed mates, so Decima recruited another batch to last me til Illevar. Best wife ever, right? I was so lucky. She wore my old armor now, as to not waste it. And it should keep her a bit safer, for a minute of combat.

Henna didn't want an armor, nor would she fit in a regular female carapace, due to enhanced glands. She got a Flak robe and force field belt, and she wears my old Hellpistol, so it evens out. Plus it's easier to disrobe Henna for a quick husbandry duty in my bedroom. Win-win.

Canis got a savant implant too, and a combat collar with its own Power Shield, and now the Catachans train him to hunt like they do. Only he has grown a lot during this year and is larger than a pony. Kids love him anyway, as he gives the best rides.

A shadow flashed and jumped on me like I expected. Luckily I had my armor, so he couldn't throw me down. Not yet. "Hey Canis! Good boy?"

"Woof!" he answered and ran back to the horde of kids. I think he thinks my kids are his puppies. Spends more time with them than I do anyway.

The Blood Angel transfusion is still working, and now grips my heart and neck.

Soon enough, it will reach my brain and I admit I'm a bit wary. Those Black Rage fits would ruin my life very fast.As my fleet was preparing to depart for the Fringe, I held council with those present from my clan.

"Larrisa, you will be given a long task. Take all the destroyers and travel to Forge World Incaladion. If the rumours I heard are correct, you will be needed to rescue them from another invasion. Veteran Astartes Koris will be stationed on your bridge, and a Catachan regiment will be dispersed among the destroyers for boarding operations. Do you understand?" I asked gently.

With 11 missile destroyers able to fire 330 torpedoes, including a vortex warhead, my daughter would have sufficient firepower to enact a miracle rescue.

She seemed a bit overwhelmed, but quickly recovered. "Of course dad. I expect I will carry some gifts with me, for the Fabricator of Incaladion?" Larrisa asked with a sneaky smile. She was a Rogue Trader by birth and nurture, after all.

I just nodded. Of course she will. A dozen young Blank girls, who will become ship Captains for my Dynasty after they reached maturity. But meanwhile, they could provide Forge Incaladion with eggs and gene samples for Blank Machine Spirits.

Plus a small cache of STC templates, that Larrisa wouldn't know the contents of.

Uncle Jorvis was tasked with being her X.O. as the man had plenty of void travel and combat experience, and with a Veteran Astartes for a bodyguard, plus her blood-bound regiment of Catachans, via her husband, Larrisa should be as safe as possible, in hell.

Uncle Wentian will stay at Forge Shenlong on the Bellus, and wait for the next 2 Lima destroyers to be completed, and then travel to Triplex Phall with the new ship templates. He would return to Illevar later, with whatever prize ships the large shipyards will be able to gift to our clan. Perhaps with more tanks and gunships in the cargo hold, if the Fabricator was generous. He also had a dozen babies left in his care, also Blanks. Forge Triplex Phall would definitely appreciate their genes.

Veteran Blood Angel Turcio was assigned as his bodyguard, and my insurance, until they returned to Illevar.

And that was it. I needed the corvettes for my Canticle's escort, and they weren't really capable of independent deployment, as almost any other vessel would outgun and outmass the small escorts.

I did have some 30 boys with Blank genes in the nursery, but they were slated for the Space Marines, after they lived a nice childhood, and learned all I could teach them, and conceived the next generation with their own harems.

My own cargo holds were chuck full of light armor vehicles, and even a few dozen Volcano Sentinels, as an incipient anti-titan corps. The long lance weapons were held and used as sniper rifles, and I split them evenly among my void marines and the better Sentinel pilots from the Catachans. All the pilots had to accept savant implants, because these walkers were awesome, but also expensive and rather hard to replace.

The Fabricator of Shenlong owed me greatly for the precious archeotech relics salvaged from the Bellus, and thus an equitable solution had been reached.

I even had a short range teleporter installed on the Canticle, of Mechanicus production. The Canticle already had a Warp-teleporter, but usable only for potent psykers. Not all that useful, as I lacked psyker powers.

With a mechanical teleporter though, and one accessible via my implant, new options have opened. These people in the future were slightly retarded when considering military stratagems, but I wasn't brainwashed into believing glorious melee fights were the ultimate achievement in someone's life.

There was one thing to insert Astartes into key areas to capture a pirate ship, and thus obtain precious reusable loot at a million-th of the cost. Or more, if there would be another Grand Cruiser as prize.

But boarding Tyranid or Chaos ships with marines? Why? Wouldn't it be more effective to teleport an atomic warhead?

My tech-priests were already assembling a conveyor-belt style mechanism, to quickly reload the teleporter with atomic disinfectants and anti-bodies.

An incline ramp on the upper deck would simply roll and guide the cylindrical warheads into position, then fwooop! The bomb would be displaced inside the target vessel or fort, bypassing any armor and most types of shields.

Even void shields could be breached, if the enemy didn't carefully police their own transmissions, such as auspex-return lasers and graviton based auguries, using those exact signals as locators for a teleport.

Passive sensors would obviously not be affected, but nearly nobody in the universe bothered to safeguard themselves from active sensors pings.

The lessons of submarine and bomber warfare had been lost to the future, but I was ready to capitalize on the old addendum: Those who forget history are fated to repeat the same mistakes.

"Engines to full, make for the translation limit!" I ordered from my Captain chair, after the conclave was over and the farewells had been said, and the hugs to the departing kids faded.

Canis wailed as well, somehow knowing his puppies were leaving for a long time.

But after the fleet entered Warp, I returned to my rooms to procreate more babies to replace the missing ones.

One last time with Decima, who wanted a break to recover and manage the clan affairs without a marsupial pouch attached to her stomach.

Henna was still good for a few more, and rather happy with her role.

Then another squad of Catachans amazons, and Naya, a new void marine woman, who reached adulthood right here among the crew, and wanted to take part in the clan's growth. Of course, a Rogue Trader was the best catch she could hope for, and there were many perks attached to her concubine role.

No more work shifts and boring guard hours, a bit less training, better food and living quarters, and as expected: lots and lots of deep husbandry.

Naya lounged in my lap as I rested in the cogitator armchair, and watched with interest as I struggled to complete another STC template, for a ship assault Rapier.

"Why does it have a single Onslaught_Gatling_Cannon? Wouldn't it be better with two?" she wondered with a naive voice, while reading the description on the side.

I let my left hand cup her breast as it drew my hand back from the holofield. "That weapon fires 8700 rounds per minute, each round as big as a heavy bolt. The recoil is immense, my dear." I explained in a gentle voice.

It was hard to keep the small Rapier from flipping over anyway. Two guns would surely make it take off, backwards. I had to use triple-sized tracks, just for enough friction to counter the recoil, plus hydraulic absorbers.

"Alright then, my lord. But I still say more guns are better. Perhaps smaller ones?" she asked again.

I saved the new template and opened the next, with 6 lascannons stacked three guns over the next layer.

"Like this one? Well...the problem is energy. Lascannons can't fire for too long, before the capacitor is discharged completely." I mused to myself. Whoever was in front of those guns wouldn't enjoy a single salvo, not to mention 3 or 4 shots.

"It looks great though, by the Emperor! These Mechanicus guys sure come up with the nicest weapons, don't they?" Naya inquired naively, and Ludvaius coughed for no reason somewhere beside the door.

Well, the Blood Angel did have a point. "Of course they do, my dear. But this weapon is a Blood Angel design. Sadly, they never considered us normal people, and the Rapier controls don't have servo-motors. Without power armor, it will be hard to use them, and harder to hit anything not standing still."

Naya sighed in defeat. "So we need power armor for our void marines, or servo-motors, whatever those are."

I kissed her head, and started working on that. Power armor wasn't an option, but servo-motors were basic technology. Even I knew how to design a car steering wheel. Well, a car with tracks.

A few hours later, the new Beam Rapier template was complete and Naya slept blissfully in my arms.

Thus, I left her to sleep in my bed, and checked my timer. I had 3 hours of creation remaining, so I loaded the Doomhammer schematics obtained from Shenlong, Baneblades armed with a (weaker) Magma Cannon, a type of heavy lance that could melt rocks into lava or magma.

It was a pity to have a super heavy tank use only one such weapon, and Naya was right. Two guns were better than one. I began by removing the troop compartment, and installed an atomantic reactor in its place, then enlarged and upgraded the turret to hold a twin Magma_Cannon. Plenty of energy left so shields and defensive multilasers would be feasible.

Ludvaius had sneaked behind me to appraise the new template. "This Baneblade variant...it's for your own troops, right?"

"Yes, my friend. It will do for a start. Imagine a hundred of them, besieging any feral world in the Fringe." I replied thoughtfully while sipping from the recaf mug.

"No ammunition and no fuel, except radioactive rods for the reactor. Completely self-sustaining for a decade." he said in approval.

Exactly my point.

I saved the new tank template and went to sleep, hoping for a better futureDuring the trip back to my distant empire, I focused on creating a host of rugged but simple and cheap machinery for my own people.

Here, I wasn't limited by the crazy regulations of the Imperium, which forbade innovation and invention. Not that I would even be able to create something like a Rift_Cannon to bend reality with every shot, or even a Graviton_Singularity_Cannon which fires tiny black holes for fun and profit.

No, my weapons and machines would be very familiar to someone from M2 or M3, because these machines were just that.

Reconnaissance drones, made of flimsy steel sheets with a twin pict/infrared passive auspex sensor, using a propeller and solar panels recharging a lasgun-type power pack for propulsion, to survey a hostile area from high altitude in near perfect silence. The auspex's Machine Spirit should suffice to glide the drone over a designated zone. Servitor brain if really needed.

Cheap attack drones, with a slightly more durable structure of steel with plasteel ribs and two propeller engines, to support 6 krak missiles or even one incendiary bomb. An active LIDAR/ultraviolet sensor to detect concealed targets under foliage or fog. Servitor brains to be used as pilots, for better accuracy.

Ground attack aircraft, made of plasteel with a few titanium ribs for load bearing, with an Assault Cannon in a mobile turret underneath, and 8 hunter-killer missiles in free fall slots, but guided by a single logis-engine installed in the cockpit. Unguided rockets and incendiary bombs could be used as well, against massed infantry or wooden cities. Again, servitor brains would make their loss less expensive, as pilots were valuable. Much smaller and a thousand times cheaper than a Marauder_Bomber.

High-altitude interceptors, of plasteel and titanium, plated with a centimeter of ceramite over the jet engine and wing edges. This fighter had a lascannon fixed solidly underneath for direct fire, and 8 long range missiles to engage enemy air units like zeppelins, bombers, droships and drop pods. Wouldn't stand much chance against a true starfighter, but that Fury_Interceptor is 5 times larger and maybe a thousand times more expensive. Pilots might be needed, as skills and reflexes would make a big difference.

I already had the light Weasels for infantry support and suppression, but I made a Chimera variant with a twin autocannon and krak grenade launchers for backup and elongated the troop hold by 6 meters, to allow the carrier to carry 50 guardsmen in relative safety. The upper tracks were lowered in height by half, to allow firing ports on the upper hull, for the infantry inside.

Heavy stubbers, or classic machine guns would be easier to make, but also quite irrelevant against almost any enemy. Tyranids, Orks, Eldar or Necrons would just shrug off normal bullets, so I didn't see the point of trying to build them.

Perhaps for police units, against fragile humans.

You may think those flying machines are easy to design, being many eras older than the current times, but the original makers had thousands of engineers and years to work with. I finished everything in 2 months, saved them on different dataslates, and marked them as ancient STCs from Old Terra. It was almost true, anyway.

Just in time, as we arrived at Illevar the next day, so I got some sleep.

The Vox channels instantly filled with a thousand urgent requests from everyone with access to a phone. Radiophone.

I waited for an hour and filtered through the transcripts. Years have passed since I last ruled from my capital, and many people seemed to have forgotten me.

Others had grown rich and powerful, especially the merchant and nobles houses allied directly to me via bloodlines.

It seemed Larrisa made it to Forge Incaladion just in time to cash in a Favor, blowing up two Ork Battleships and supporting the Mechanicus to contain a large Ork Waaagh.

The adamantium of those enormous warships would be melted and reforged into new destroyers and a fleet of missile corvettes, plus a hundred Doomhamer heavy tanks, just like I needed. The tanks would have to be converted into the better variant at Antax, but such is life. Can't win them all.

Wentian was still guarding Forge Shenlong, and their fleet was growing. The next two Lima-class hulls should be finished in a year or two.

And Veryon was still crusading to the north, his fleet increased with 4 more destroyers and an older cruiser captured from the locals, who used it as an orbital fort and trade station for lack of repair.

He did manage to lose 4 corvettes somehow, so the total numbers were much the same.

But I couldn't expect everyone in the clan to have my cheater luck, although Larrisa seemed to have inherited that trait, instead of the Blank gene. Fate is a fickle mistress, right?

I immediately dispatched three thousand tech-priests on the Litany light cruiser to Natale, the location of Veryon's outpost, to repair the cruiser hulk enough for a single Warp trip to Antax. Old ships wouldn't help us directly, but a Forge World could indeed create another amazing vessel like the refurbished Lament cruiser. It's hard to imagine, but consider finding another Great Pyramid somewhere, with a treasure of gold and bronze relic weapons inside, or another Sistine Chapel. That's how the Mechanicus view old ships being found, cleansed and lovingly restored as the Omnissiah's armored fists.

Old ships might also contain forgotten cogitator codes and rites, logis-engines with sacred data-engrams never seen before and so on. Lost star charts, hidden vaults buried in walls, some rusted unpowered weapons that in fact can one shot demons or planets...the archeotech from the Dark Age of Technology might be lost, but could also be found.

With my Canticle here in orbit over Illevar as defense, the Litany could be spared for other duties, such as supporting the Hymnal in the northward expansion. There were still some 20 human feral worlds out there, free for the taking, til we would meet the Orks.

A Catachan regiment and two armored battalions departed on the Litany, with 2 corvettes as escort and an Astartes bodyguard for my daughter Finona, the new Captain of the Litany. His name is Alactus, and I'm glad he didn't have to die this time.

Then I landed at the Blank Valley, which had grown again, and got welcomed with a dozen more Blank girls prepared to become my concubines. It wasn't just duty, as they were pretty and eager to contribute to the salvation of mankind. I tried to make it quite clear to every Blank what we meant for humanity, as our genes would protect our descendants from Chaos and demons. To be part of such a grandiose plan was enough for most of them, and having a life of safety and luxury in this quiet valley was a better life than most of the humanity could hope, in the grim 40th Millennium.

My wife Serena summoned a huge welcoming ball for the next week, where all the big shots would send daughters and sisters to entice me into becoming closer linked to the high classes.

She even marked one of the noble women as a potential wife, should Decima agree. I glanced at her pict capture and kinda agreed.

But pictures were not everything.

As I got close and took her hand for a dance, Grindelle screamed in agony and fell to the floor. Blue smoke started flowing from her eyes, and my Astartes quickly formed a defense perimeter.

"Lord Pef! The woman is a witch!" Rafen shouted and drew his special bolter out. The one with phase-iron munitions.

I held my hand out for calm. A psyker no doubt, and perhaps a telepath, making her way up the noble ranks, with more ease than simple womanly deceptions and wiles. Reading people's thoughts and perhaps influencing them to her will.

But a witch? That meant something else. I have seen Chaos servants, and they had a certain smell.

Couldn't marry the woman anymore, not if she fainted from a single touch, but I had other jobs of similar importance.

Astropaths of my own perhaps. Another mother for Navigators. Battle psykers...if only I knew a good psyker that could help me. Wait, I did.

"Lord Hulburn. Meet me at the medical labs on the south spire. Astartes Rafen will wait for you." I asked on the vox channel to the Canticle.

"So you have met the blue soul woman...her light is blinding me." his reply came as if he was dreaming. He probably was, I just realized. Navigators didn't see time like all of us.

"Bring an astropath and a Biologis Magos with you. You know which one...the scary one with twelve scalpel arms that hangs around the nursery." I continued without letting his tarot cards scare me.

I made my own fate. Better send the woman to Terra, and avoid the worrisome prophecy.

I should give that tech-priest a name. The Juggler, maybe. He made the kids laugh, by juggling his scalpels with unfailing accuracy and grace.

Better not think how fast those blades could exterminate all the nursery and guards. Possibly all the crew with some virus...

"... As you say, Captain Lancefire. Beware the 13th hidden blade." he muttered prophetically and closed the vox channel.

I was now quite certain he didn't mean a hidden scalpel, but the Black Crusade to come. I wonder if he knew what his visions meant. Probably not. The words would come true, but they wouldn't mean what you thought when you heard them.

And likely make you turn on an ally, and make him become your enemy. Damn seers.

That's why I hated the crazy Eldar. They would always point you in the wrong direction, at the wrong the target.

If they were so wise, how come they created Slaanesh then?

No, I would trust my own judgement. It hasn't failed me yet.An hour later, I returned to the Governor Ball after making sure my Navigator would look after the new psyker and teach Lady Grindelle the rudimentary necessities, to avoid becoming a danger, to herself and everyone else.

Psykers could be a potent force multiplier if used correctly, in a dozen fields from medicine to warfare or diplomacy. They could also create huge trouble, if left undetected and untrained.

Even my gifted daughters with Rose would suffer from same risks and benefits, but I expected they were already on Terra by now, and receiving training from a Psyker group like Adeptus_Astra_Telepathica's Scholastia Psykana, all except Janice who went with Rose, possibly providing the same service as Justine had, only better.

Her mother did train the girls a little, establishing a core of mental fortitude and the use of a telekine dome which should protect them from bullying and other harassment.

But more advanced abilities, like the precious Gate of Infinity: teleporting great distances via a Warp corridor would take many years to master.

They were also strongly advised to request testing for the Inquisition, because the training would be much better and their powers in the Imperium would be nearly absolute, if they passed the trials.

Meanwhile, my own Navigator house was slowly taking shape, with a dozen adepts opening their third eye and undergoing basic training from the available Navigators in my fleet.

We don't talk about those who failed, but the Mechanicus priests have taken the mindwiped or exploded corpses to use them in various ways, from psycho-active purity seals and organic components for Gellar field generatoriums, to psy-cannons and psy-grenades and other esoteric and blessed munitions for my Astartes.

My Hive Capital is scheduled to receive a city-wide Gellar Field sometime in this decade or the next, depending on the affluence of more organic parts. I don't doubt there will be sufficient failures among the new Navigators, as even the venerable Houses have many of them. A new House like my own is certain to have over 90 percent failures, until we come up with a workable system, or we luck out with more dual Blank/Navigator genes.

Also, the Knight House is getting started, with over 100 young pilots training in holo-simulators and practicing live piloting on Armed Sentinels. And those are all my brothers, from my mother Justine and Lord Whitelance gene stock, but grown artificially by the tech-priests in a mechanical uterus. There were failures among them as well, and the nice Mechanicus tech-priests are using the salvaged parts for a more reliable targeting cogitator on the Canticle and more Machine Spirits, intended for the Volcano Sentinels and the Baneblades variants.

Best not to think about it too hard. It works and the Emperor protects.

By the next year, I had a new generation of kids born in the Blank Valley, and Victor provided a dozen more Blank descendants of his own.

Many more kids with my numerous noble and Catachans concubines, but the number of Blank kids stayed the same, still about 30 per year. It must be a hardwired limit somewhere.

And the golden veins of the Sanguinor's blessing have completely transformed my heart and lungs, giving me a lot more stamina and inner strength, and now the tendrils tingle towards my head and groin.

I really hope nothing bad happens, as I need both my mind and my spear to attempt my grander plans.

Not that relic Sanguinius's spear, although it will come in handy someday, but my other spear.

My daughter Larrise has sent word that she'll depart for Forge Antax soon, once the Fabricator at Forge Incaladion finishes preparing a light cruiser for her, another Endurance-class but upgraded with the Lima-class torpedo cells and twin Volcano batteries.

It isn't that much of a Favor, but the cruiser will be loaded with attack gunships and heavy tanks, which we cannot yet produce in the Fringe.

Forge World Incaladion is also building two types of corvettes, one a remodeled torpedo barrage Stalwart_Escort_Ship, without Warp engines and Navigators, and another escort-type similar to the Retribution-pattern I made for the Imperial Navy.

They also preferred converting the destroyer hulls already in production to the Los Angeles-class, as those were simpler and faster to build, and used more common or cheaper weaponry.

Logistics was always a big factor, and every Forge World had different capability and expertise.

Wentian had also departed towards Forge Triplex Phall, in command of a Lima destroyer while his son commanded the other. Nepotism was the name of the game in a Rogue Trader dynasty, and with every new and bigger ship that family branch grew in power, wealth and reputation.

Expansion to the north was due to restart soon with a fleet anchor point at Natale, just after the Chant for the Vanquished, the repaired cruiser, left for Antax and the new orbital forts were emplaced and armed.

The forts were still mere metallic asteroids with guns and shields, but why fix it if it works.

Illevar had about 50 such forts in orbit, and 50 more planned. This galaxy was dangerous, the distances vast and in space nobody could hear you scream for help.

I mean, they could...if you had astropaths, and they also had astropaths that listened, and there wasn't a Tyranid Silence or a Warp Storm blocking the transmissions. Better be safe, than hope some Astartes Chapter had a fleet nearby and ready to assist.

Planet Natale itself had a few billion people, but only a single Hive, the rest spread out in smaller towns all over the planet, split in warring factions of nobles and warlords. Much fewer nobles now, after Veryon pacified the planet in the usual style. The planet did have large river plains for agriculture, and even steam power trains and factories.

They would be of great help for my colonization plans, after a generation or two of interbreeding with the Catachan regiment.

But the peace wouldn't last. I wasn't even surprised when my incipient Forge Retribution screamed for help, as the Warp disgorged a big Ork fleet and a Space Hulk crawling with a billion green mushrooms.

In an hour, I gathered what ships were available and departed for war. I did recruit tech-priest Minoris on my ship again, because his amazing brain power will be needed.

My wife Serena was bulging from my husbandry achievement and so was Henna, so they stayed on lllevar. Only dear Decima joined me on the rescue mission, and only the combat-able concubines. An Ork Waagh invasion was not a pleasure cruise for noble concubines, despite their pleas.

I had enough Astartes with me to consider capturing some Ork ships, as the metal hulls alone would be worth trillions of thrones. Other weapons and ship systems could be valuable as well, and that Space Hulk was an immense prize by itself, going by the astropath missive.

By next week we arrived at Retribution with my battlecruiser, 2 frigates and 6 destroyers and 400 corvettes of various types. Yet again, another corvette vanished during travel, proof of their weak resistance in the Warp.

The tech-priests and my ground forces were already under siege, a hundred million Orks having descended on the Forge World looking for a good fight and more plunder.

A single orbital fort was still standing, and a dozen corvettes had been lost by the defenders, somehow. It always amazed me how and why other people could lose ships against moron savages and flying bugs.

"Destroyers, change orbital plane below us and await orders to engage. Frigates, speed ahead towards the planet and glass whatever is infested and not protected. Corvettes, form in pattern Beta on the Canticle." I ordered after a single minute of deliberation.

The Orks were idiots, and it didn't take much to defeat them. Just avoid their armored prows.

We wisely avoided the large Space Hulk for now as it was too slow to chase us, and the Canticle soon confirmed a damaged Apocalypse-class_Battleship was embedded deep inside, only the gigantic engines and their known size and disposition allowing a positive identification.

Otherwise, the Ork fleet had a squadron of Kroozers and a dozen Roks, escorted by a ramshackle of hulls of smaller size, more than 500 in corvette size and two dozen in destroyer size. Nobody could identify the make and class of the original ships, because they were extensively modded and up-armored.

Minoris glanced at the holofield screen and cogitated for a minute. "Lord Pef, I predict the Orks will retreat before we can capture all of their ships. We should damage their engines."

Sadly, he was probably right. But only if their Ork Boss was alive to give that order. Also, a ship missing the brige would have a few small problems attempting to retreat.

"Retribution, this is Pef Lancefire. Please confirm the location of the Warboss, and any other large Orks that might continue fighting." I demanded as I delved into the Machine Spirit to have it listen at whatever vox and auspex return it could detect.

The system map soon filled with a handful of pulsing icons indicating the command centers of the Ork Armada.

Being tribal, the Orks would follow a command chain centered on the largest specimens, which in turn would obey the loudest and scariest Boss among the tribe leaders. And they did that without encrypting their vox channels...

Ludvaius leaned over my shoulder to allow his eyes to memorize the Boss placement. "Captain, we have sufficient Astartes on board, to teleport on their ships and terminate all these bosses."

I just sighed and turned towards Rafen. "Do you agree, Rafen?"

The Veteran was more cautious. "I expect you have a completely different plan, which will seem obvious and easy after you win the battle, Lord Lancefire."

I nodded wisely. "Indeed, my friend. Today you are Sanguinius reborn! Such wisdom from an Astartes is surely a sign the Primarch has returned from death inside your body." I proclaimed in fake praise, and Canis added a loud wail in concert.

I lowered my hand to scratch his furry head. "You think so too, my furry friend? Of course, you do. You just need a pair of wings, Canis. These silly Astartes will worship you and feed you expensive steaks, and maybe offer a thousand fertile bitches to create your own Canis Dynasty!"

"Wooooo!" my space wolf agreed in joy. Perhaps I should get him a few mates.

Then I urged the Canticle forward at best speed, and began lobbing atomic warheads on top of every Ork Boss, while adjusting the ship's course to stay parallel, but outside their Big Gunz weapons range.

My heavy lances didn't have that range problem and after two passes, the void was littered with listing Kroozers and burning escort vessels.

Easiest fight everBy the third pass, I ran out of atomic warheads and the Orks ran out of intact Kroozers and Roks.

They still had numerical superiority, if only by a single ship.

But then, the local Ork Captains panicked as their Waagh field disintegrated with the deaths of all their larger leaders.

By clans and tribes, they began turning the ships around, to escape.

"All escorts, pick a target and follow it." I commanded as the Canticle turned about and sped towards the Space Hulk, using our amazing speed to arrive behind it...or the place with more engines anyway.

"And now we teleport, onto the space hulk?" Rafen deduced genially. Well, he was Sanguinius today, so he would receive divine inspiration.

"In an hour or so. First we make sure the hulk doesn't leave with my brave guards on board. Lord Dante will be upset if I lose you in the Warp." I explained politely while my lances began melting one hulk engine after another.

Meanwhile, the Canticle was scanning and analyzing the hulk for fissures and other weak points like flaws and unstable melds.

The schematic of the hulk began to assemble on the holoscreen, and each of those flaws soon received a torpedo to enlarge the gap.

By the next hour, I had managed to extinguish about 100 engines and split off about 30 mangled ships and other hulls from the hulk.

The corvettes already successful in their antifungal task joined the Canticle and began burning the separated fragments with their lances and plasma guns, since I didn't need Genestealers or feral Orks to remain hidden in the wrecks.

The metal was valuable, everything else much less.

A couple of black-painted Ork destroyers did reach the Warp limit and escaped, but as their hulls would be exposed to the Warp due to numerous holes and punctures, that was likely a worse fate for them. Who knows, perhaps the Orks inside would enjoy a 'gud fight' with unending hordes of demons or enslavers.

All I cared about was dislodging the nice battleship before the hulk transitioned into the Warp.

A dozen torpedoes later, the large fragment containing the Apocalypse-class derelict finally dislodged from the space hulk. There was still a lot of metal on the hulk, but I was out of torpedoes too.

"Blood Angels! By squads, report to the teleportarium and cleanse that battleship of invaders. Secure the reactor first, and then a hangar for reinforcements." I ordered, pointing at Ludvaius.

"By your order, Captain! A battleship would be a glorious prize." Ludvaius exclaimed bravely and started stomping towards the door.

"Take ten times more ammo. Make that twenty!" I yelled after him.

Rafen pouted as he had to stay and guard my life. "Next time is my turn to conquer a battleship. Damn my luck..." he complained like a huge child.

Orders for boarding parties made of servitors, tech-priests, Voidsmen and Catachans were also sent, and I also launched fighters to provide escort for the assault boats.

The Ogryns were not sent, as I wanted the battleship somewhat intact, if possible. Hulk Smash! Ogryns were terrible around machinery, and always damaged doors and elevators on the Canticle, by accident. In fury and pain from combat, a company of Ogryns with adamantium weapons would ruin a lot of irreplaceable relics.

Squad by squad, the Blood Angels inserted via teleport inside the battleship and began shooting. And shooting more. And then even more.

Shrieking enemies flowed continuously into halls and walkways, but a Company of space marines wasn't easily defeated.

Terminators and dreadnoughts did carry huge amounts of munitions, but a battleship has immense volume, and all of it was infested with enemies.

I had to teleport more crates with bolter ammo and drumboxes for autogunns, and the Astartes continued shooting. Orks of a dozen kinds, Genestealers, then other creatures like RakGol cyborgs and Tyranid Tyrants.

And then, the hangar door opened and my landers could transport inside thousands upon thousands of servitors and Rapiers and Weasels and Sentinels, and the tides slowly turned.

I think I managed to chip away a quarter of the space hulk, before sirens blared and the behemoth started moving by itself towards the Warp limit, an arbitrary boundary where the sun gravity was weak enough to permit Warp jumps.

My destroyers blessed the departing hulk with the rest of the torpedoes, chipping away some more scraps of metal. And them the Space Hulk departed, after gifting me the prize I always wanted.

A real battleship!

Sure, it was damaged and will take a lot of effort to clean up and repair. But after that, the sky was the limit.

The advance stalled when encountering a band of feral humans armed with melta guns, but I just sacrificed all the servitors to consume their gas canisters and sent more landers with new combat servitors, this time with adamantium shields for the front lines.

Then I went to sleep, because winning still tires me, and my flesh is still weak.

For a month, fighting continued deck by deck and corridor by corridor, until I ran out of cheap servitors and Orks to kill.

The tech-priests on Retribution were still besieged by millions of Orks on the ground, but we had orbital superiority and large orkish advances could be stalled or erased with lance batteries and even macrocannons.

The corvettes began dragging crisped hulls towards the shipyards, where the tech-priests will begin reforging the metal into new and blessed machines of Mechanicus design.

By the second month, most of the battleship had been cleansed, except the lower decks still crawling with human mutants, genestealers and other life forms of unknown types, perhaps Tarellians.

The Biologis Magi were ecstatic at the chance to capture and examine these strange lifeforms, although I didn't jeopardize my troops for their experiments. A large Genestealer managed to kill a couple Astartes, simply by proving more durable and vicious than the best of humanity's soldiers. Going by the tentacles growing on its front, it was likely one of the Ymgarl_Genestealers. It took three Sentinels and a Blood Angel dreadnought to bring it down.

Still, by the third month the battleship was declared clean, and I began sending most of the tech-priests and enginseers available to begin repairs.

Under armed escort, of course.

The genestealers were rather smart, and many could still hide in a vault or pipe or other hidden place.

With some effort the Apocalypse was pushed and dragged in orbit above Retribution, and the Cult Mechanicus began build scaffolds and docks around it.

My Blood Angels rested for a few days, then continued liberating the crippled Ork Kroozers, although the job was much easier without the terrible speed and fierceness of the Tyranids bioforms.

The Catachans aided as much as they could, taking the second line and providing cover and rest for the power armored marines.

I used the Canticle to sear away all life on the damaged Ork Roks, and also deployed my armored units on the surface of Retribution.

Slowly, the invasion was pushed back and forced away from the main spires of the Mechanicus, where we could use orbital support more liberally.

Superheavy tanks like Baneblades, Fellblades and Doomhammers proved too well armed and armored for these Orks, and my ships would immediately target any sign of a Warboss emerging in the wasteland.

The other vehicles aided with patrols and lighter fighting forces, and by next year we declared Retribution saved.

The Orks would sadly always return, either from the ground sprouting like mushrooms, or invading again with space ships or hulks. Just like in the Imperium of Man, Forge Worlds made extremely tempting targets for invasion, due to the amazing technology and weapons that could be plundered.

And thus, I met with my Fabricator and unloaded all my templates on him, for cheap but numerous war machines that would safeguard our security.

"These are real antiques, Lord Pef! Sure, they are easy to make, but would have little combat value." the Fabricator complained, rather logically.

"I understand, Magos. We need a few millions of each, and then you may build nicer and stronger machines. But first, basic needs have to be met. Then, system-only corvettes for orbital superiority. Also a million of them." I explained in a careless voice.

A wave of furious metal tentacles filled the room. "Outrageous! So many work-hours and holy litanies wasted on worthless drones and fighters? And those Corvettes are shamefully weak!" he explained and sputtered a dozen curses in binharic, and High Gothic.

I shrugged and poured myself some wine. The tech-priest was right, obviously. They would be weak and fragile, compared to the nicer fighters of the Imperium. But I wanted air power, and I will have it.

"Also, we need to find compatible females for my dog. I want every recon squad to have their own wolves." I explained sternly, and petted Canis who mewled in pity.

The Fabricator sighed in defeat and began collecting gene samples from my quadruped companion, who was clever enough not to raise trouble in front a deadly tech-priest. He had possibly seen the Juggler as a puppy and was correctly terrified of what a tentacled cyborg with metal limbs could do.

"Your space wolf is an admirable specimen, Lord Pef. I don't understand how you managed to receive one." the Magos said in praise and petted the meek Canis with admiration.

I thought how to answer, then told the truth. "I told a Space Wolf not to bite me. He was very impressed."

The Magos waved a tentacle in frustration. "Go away, for now. I'll need to call Antax for help, and request more tech-priests. And I'll have to share these relic templates for it!" he said in a metallic growl.

I smiled and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, my friend. I have a score more, hidden somewhere. And you get this nice battleship to work on. Who else has a relic battleship to investigate and repair, eh? Imagine what could be found inside the gnostic vaults and the sealed cogitators!"

He starred at the ceiling for a second then nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you are right, Rogue Trader. There is no higher honor than discovering the work of the ancients. Including old machines from the Blue Terra."

I waved a hand and left his armored quarters, and hit my face into Rafen's ceramite chest plate.

"Ouch! What was this for?" I muttered and rubbed my bulging nose.

"Oh, I was listening through the door. Metal conducts sound very well" he explained patiently