40 Thousand Reasons

Chapter 24: Raid

The Fabricator really likes the new Land Raider tanks, and mostly everything I have for sale, including the Glaive relic I got from the Scythes, and all my variants of STCs including multilasers, personal missiles launchers and upgraded lasguns.

I almost feel he wants to lock me in his basement to produce more upgraded templates for the glory of Omnissiah.

In fact, he tells me this to my face, but I pretend it's a good joke.

"I wouldn't be able to explore the vast galaxy from a secure research facility, Archmagos. Still, I wonder if you would be interested in another type of collaboration." I ask in a jovial tone, and sip some hugely expensive wine imported from Terra itself.

The tech-priest blinks from his still human eye, and nods cautiously.

"My mother is a Blank, and so am I. Also my son is a Blank too. Very useful trait, for a special machine that could withstand the Warp...or psykers. If you could gather some Magi Biologis and set them on this task, I am certain everyone in the Imperium would be interested in Blank Machine Spirits. Your renown as a great Forge World would grow as well, if it works." I whisper and hold my hand out for a blood sample.

The Fabricator hesitates for a whole minute, no doubt cogitating deeply on higher implications of such machines, and the risks involved.

"And in exchange?" he asks in a wary voice.

I just shrug. My purpose is not equal trade after all. Merely providing humanity with the means to defend itself.

"My mother is also here, the blonde woman in the Inquisitor's retinue. She could use some Mechanicus upgrades for her difficult job." I ask after a second of deliberation. Not asking for anything would be too suspicious.

Another long minute passes, then the Fabricator opens his cogitator for a trade window, filled with nice goodies.

"Filial duty is rare...but you show humanity and modesty. Nothing for yourself, but only the best for your mother. If only more people were like you, Lord Pef." the Archmagos says and plays some cants and hymnals from his vox speakers.

I nod and start scrolling through the list. A Sentinel walker template would be useful, and a dozen vortex torpedoes would ruin anyone's day.

Then I find a Deimos_Vindicator pattern, based on the popular Rhino tank chassis. A similar model is called Deimos_Vindicator_Laser_Destroyer which has 4 Lascannons in a rhomboid pattern, for even greater firepower.

This configuartion could be adapted for multilasers and ship weapons, perhaps for the Sentinel and Hydras...so I am quite pleased to obtain them.

"I admit, I was looking for a different machine called a Macharius tank, but nobody has it, around here." I say politely and start selecting replacements for everything I lost in the Sotha campaign, 2 fighter squadrons, 800 Chimera tanks and variants, and a full load out of missiles and torpedoes.

I stop when the Fabricator signals discreetly the limit has been reached.

"Tell me about those corvettes, being made everywhere these days." he asks in a patient voice.

I sip more wine and think it over. "It's a cache of ancient designs, each with different foci. Antax makes these long range explorers, Metalica makes classic models for the Navy, and Tigrus builds a special type for Rogue Traders. I do have a partial template left, but I haven't figured out what kind of weapons they are supposed to use. Maybe gravity or infrared weapons, or both. Check it over if you want, Fabricator." I advise him in a modest tone and offer the next dataslate.

The priest doesn't call bullshit on my obvious lie and simply looks it over.

Armed with Volkite guns in the broadside and 3 turrets devoid any weapons, this corvette has instead the upgraded Gellar generators and a hundred internal choke points to repel boarders.

He thinks it over while I finish my wine. "I think I see. Something that could damage anything organic, like Orks and Tyranids. The Ultima sector is indeed crawling with biological threats, beside the usual foes."

I fake disinterest and start to turn away. "I'll try to send something better next time, Fabricator." I manage to say before a tentacle extends and sits me back down.

"No! It is very useful, an Estaban pattern corvette, able to match Tyranids bioships and cleanse Ork Infestations. It's not your fault the pattern isn't complete, since many of the ancient relics are found like this. What would be useful to your endevours in the Eastern Fringe, Lord Pef?" he wonders in a hasty voice.

What I want is not available though. "Capturing pirate vessels has been the most fruitful activity so far. I'd need light power armor or exoskeletons, better assault boats and even teleporters. Multi-melta guns for my Astartes guardians and any type of low power shielding that can be made portable. A single Grand Cruiser has cost me a hundred thousand lives to capture, and my crew doesn't grow in Hive cities like the Navy." I admit in fake sadness.

There were such loses indeed, but servitors not sentient crew.

The Fabricator glances at the door, and then back at me. "And once more, you ask nothing for yourself, but worry about Astartes and crew, whose lives are already spent."

I nod in agreement. "Well, I am getting old and slow. The Inquisitor gave me an injection that should keep me going for a bit more...but then you'll have to continue without me. They shall know me by my deeds and the strength of my life..." I start saying before the Fabricator stands tall and seems agitated.

"Perhaps not so soon, Lord Pef. You really should ask for things in return, before it is too late. As I first offered, Estaban has a state-of-the-art research facility. Stay for a year to complete an anti-aging procedure, beside your mother. And we'll try the other thing too. Blank Machine Spirits would be greatly appreciated by everyone, from Mars and Terra to all the Forges or Navy ships." He pleads in a rather desperate voice.

I reluctantly agree to receive an extra life worth at least a planet if not two.

"My guards will have to stay as well. They seem to think I'm valuable for some reason." I explain in an innocent voice and look around the room for some special clues.

Sadly, everything is too obscure or high level to even start to figure out what each machine does. I recognize auspex sensors and fire detectors, but those are common knowledge...well at least aboard a ship.

"Space marines do have special treatment. They can stay and guard you, of course. I'll even see they receive better weapons." he allows politely.

Over all, it is a good deal for both of us.

The medical leave is not quite wasted, since my regiment and the Stormtroopers get replenished with Estaban auxiliaries, and their weapons and other machines are upgraded to the now familiar Retribution pattern, everything from better auspex sensors, more durable tracks, triple barreled multilasers and Hunter-killer missiles.

Estaban even opens a few new forges for the Estaban pattern Plasma Land Raiders, more as a test bed for the new technology, using the damaged machines recovered from Sotha as a guideline.

But they also run parallel tests, and the repaired relics are about 40 percent worse in live fire tests, because they lacked a top side turret. Sponson, or laterally mounted weapons are just not that effective, especially if the tank is moving.

The original Land Raiders remind me of the early British tanks, slow and long and using side mounted turrets.

The new Estaban profile with the plasma gun turret is more similar to a Baneblade, although a bit taller. With atomantic reactors, they are also slightly faster and can fire more rapidly.

For a month's work, they sure look impressive enough.

Still, the Fabricator decides to mass-produce the cheap variant with Vanquisher cannons, and only equip elite regiments of skitarii or Astartes companies with the plasma tanks.

Again, logistics is the determining factor, since access to ammunition and maintenance wins more wars than superior technology, especially here, with poorly educated guardsmen expected to pilot and fire high level tanks without proper training.

I use my favored relations to order a hundred such plasma raiders for the Blood Angels, and the same for the Scythes. It will help them greatly in the next conflicts, I am quite certain.

While the treatment goes on, I lose many litters of blood and any disposable genetic samples, like hair, nails and body fluids.

I get prodded, sampled and scanned a thousand times, and Justine gets the same treatment, but possibly worse. They harvest eggs and other viable cells like stem cells from the spine and outer skin layers, stomach acid and cerebral fluid.

By the time the year has passed, both me and mother look like newly born teenagers, rosy fresh skin and bald heads.

I am not certain what the exact results are, but I'm told it will take decades for anything substantial to be produced. I get hints of some unusual accidents and quarantined labs, so it possibly the experiments didn't go too well, like every time someone has tried to create artificial Blanks. There was a mystery here that someone or something tried to keep secret.

A transport ship from Gyron arrives just as I was loading the regiment back to my cruiser, having finished their training and field exercises to some degree of competence.

Sadly, my mentor is not on board, but it doesn't matter that much right now.

The megatonne of adamantium and a host of other Mechanicus relics are delivered to Forge World Estaban, and their Fabricator is rather confused about the extraordinary gift.

I don't doubt other people would receive a whole system or a Nobility rank for such a prize. But I have no need of secular authority, not inside the Imperium anyway.

"Reforge the metal for a durable spine for those corvettes, I'd say. And perhaps there would be a rare or valuable weapon among these broken relics." I tell him in an easy voice.

He doesn't like being in my debt. "Please Lord Pef. Surely there is something you want for this huge discovery." the Fabricator tells me with a strange gesture with a few cyborg arms.

His red robes flutter majestically, so I take pity on him. " Fine! If you insist, then I should ask for something. Some escort ships, along with a Manufactorum voidship. I have to return to the fringe, and those people need everything, from trains and tractors to electrical generators and void shields. Orbital defenses would help greatly if more pirates or Orks attack us again."

The Fabricator sighs in disgust. " Why can't you ask for a battlecruiser, like any normal Rogue Trader?" he complains at my reasonable request.

"Still too little? Vaccines for billions of people then. A Storm_Shield pattern for my void marines. Some extra Incinerator torpedoes for the Lady Inquisitor. A small Titan for Lord Whitelance. The pattern for a Volcano_Lance. A light power armor STC template.

And..." I keep asking in a deluge of increasingly difficult demands.

A flurry of metal tentacles ends the discussion. "I understand, Lord Pef. Let me think what I can actually do to help."

He does come through and provides me a Power Shield template, the minimal and least powerful design he could find in his archive. Vaccines are easy, with a whole continent dedicated to servitor and clone research, home to a million Magi Biologis of various ranks.

Perhaps a few less Magi now, going by the big fires I can see from orbit. Sterilization by plasma works well...but it is not subtle.

Rose gets her new torpedoes, and I get my Volcano Lance. He adds 5 more destroyers as an afterthought, and promises to build a thousand corvettes in a few decades, using the free adamantium I just gave him.

I shake his tentacle with satisfaction, then board my ship after a prolonged absence. The crew seem happy to see me, which is always surprising.

Sure, 5 of them just became Captains for new destroyers, but it is still curious.

Ludvaius now has a Combi-bolter with a melta gun slung underneath, and so do all the other Astartes on-board, including the Deathwatch and the Scythes.

They all have melee power weapons too, so I feel a bit safer. Chaos would need a thousand demons instead of a hundred to get me. It's quite an upgrade, I admit.

With a promise to return, the Litany and our escort destroyers enter the Warp and head for Triplex_Phall, yet another Forge World here in the Ultima sector.

I immediately return to my normal routines, spending my evenings impregnating my concubines and wives, even my Rose.

The rest of the schedule is split between officer training, remedial training for my body and STC heresy.

I decide to create a better Sentinel walker, with a quad-multilaser in a diamond pattern, and the nice and helpful missile launcher. I also widen the feet for better traction and grip, and install a pair of mechanical arms to the sides.

It's not a Knight, but at least it's something. The hands are inspired by the Magi cyborg arms and can be used for lifting or digging, or holding heavy weapons. But the largest advantage is simply better balance and melee combat.

Plus they can now stand up if they fall, which is always a problem with bipeds of any origin.

Perhaps my aid can somehow change the fate of the Triplex Phall, if they are better prepared. But if not, I'll make sure to rescue as much as possible before the Tyranids engulf the system with millions of bioships.

Deep in the Litany's vault, the rescued Sounding Board lies in secret and stasis, for better days. I can't even try to comprehend the deep secrets of the xeno artifact, but I have time. With the helpful life extension treatment on Estaban, I should reach 1000 real time years without problem. Pair that with constant Warp travel and I might live even 5000 years later.

And when that time comes, I should have more options available. It's true that every man has to die, but here in the dark and crazy future, one doesn't have to stay a man.

I don't consider those options just yet. To be noticed by the Ruinous Powers so soon wouldn't be very healthy, Blank or not.

Mother listens to my advice and seduces Lord Whitelance, and a dozen of my new Biologis Magi from Estaban eagerly begin gestating a new Knight House for me, even a few Blank brothers among them.

Knights might not be Titans, but I'll take what I can get.

Justine even admits liking Whitelance a little, as he reminds her of my brave father. My clan grows slowly in numbers and ships and overall influence, and soon I might achieve my first objective.

The Blood Angels are in dire need of a cure, and back on Ilevar my future Blank concubines are growing up into their teens.

I'm not certain what will result from this trial, but I expect good things.

With a lurch, the Litany drops out of Warp a bit too far from the Forge World. "The Silence is here" Rose announces with a pained voice.

Damn it. I hope I'm not too late.

The void is filled with tyranid organisms, even a large Hive ship possibly containing the Queen. Larger than a battleship, and with claws longer than the Litany, a Hive Ship is a formidable opponent even for a Segmentum Fleet.

There is no such fleet here, merely a ramshackle gathering of Mechanicus, Astartes and other ships, possibly Rogue Traders or a local Naval squadron.

I lean back in my command chair and exchange a glance with Rose. She has the same idea, obviously.

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