I start clapping and the rest of Fleet Command quickly join in.
“Well done, Róisín. You and your team have done an outstanding job.”
“Thank you, Magos!”
“Now, I actually have a question of my own. Why did you not lower and widen the hull to match the Chira? Would that not spread out the greater weight of the tank and better stabilise its guns? A shorter tank is harder to hit too and the volu would be almost identical.”
“We did look into it. There were a few reasons why we didn’t change the hull. The first is the brief we were tasked with. It was to improve the Leman Russ, not make a new tank. This was originally chosen so that neither us, nor anyone else who adopted our design, is required to retool their production lines or change their logistics tools, like trains, cranes, and orbital shuttles. We did not want anything that would hinder the uptake of the design, should we choose to export it. That includes its appearance. By the ti we’d finished the prototype, tooling had beco less relevant, from the drastic changes, but we’d already done all the work.
“Second, the tank is there to cover the infantry. No matter the species, most will shoot at the biggest, most intimidating looking target, unless ordered otherwise. We want our enemies to shoot at the Leman Russ, not the infantry.
“Third, keeping the dinsions allows us to refit our current tanks, or sell conversion kits, rather than recycle and manufacture new ones.
“The last point depends on who we’re fighting. So far, everyone but the Orks have had sufficient targeting cogitators, sensors, and tracking chanisms to hit a Leman Russ or Chira regardless of its profile. They are not hover tanks that can jink left or right to avoid fire. That’s why we covered it in munition swatters and smoke launchers. There’s even plans for improved emissions dampening, and a jamming laser to disrupt enemy sensors that can be launched on a drone from the internal missile rack, as well as other E-WAR systems. Until such ti as we have better ways to stop our enemies targeting or hitting us, however, there is just no point changing the height or shape of a Leman Russ.”
I nod, “As you couldn’t stop them from targeting the tank, you made it a feature instead.”
“Indeed, Magos. None of us were happy about it, but it was the best we could do. As for making the Leman Russ a more stable gun platform, that just isn’t necessary. It already does a perfectly good job with its current dinsions. So long as one doesn’t do sothing dumb like putting two smooth bore cannons on the top.”
“That would be a terrible waste of ammunition,” I chuckle.
“Much less accurate too,” says Róisín. “Before I pass you over to Emyr Driskel, I have one more technological adaptation to announce. A Volkite Incinerator is a close range volkite weapon, similar to a heavy flar, that is mounted on Ursarax, cyborg jump infantry of the Adeptus chanicus. They haven’t been used much since the Great Crusade as Volkite weaponry is difficult to build and maintain on a large scale, even if volkite weapons did use to be the standard armant for the Solar Auxilia when the force was first established.
“For those of you unfamiliar with Volkite weaponry, it is a thermal weapon that discharges a beam of deflagrating energy, similar to a lightning bolt, that can burn through ceramite and plasteel with relative ease. As for why we want to use it, Volkite weapons, no matter what form they co in, are excellent against spores and swarms and, with the Potentia Coil in the void armour of our Heralds, can be fired almost as frequently as the Marwolv Pattern II Lasgun can be.
“Sure, you can do the sa thing with a heavy flar, but heavy flars need prothium and are rather bulky. We actually ran out fuel for our flars while purging the Orks from Marwolv and, because of that, they’ll be dealing with infestations for decades, if not centuries, once our tilines sync up.
“In the interest of that not happening again, or having to produce or store more volatiles than absolutely necessary, we have turned the Volkite Incinerator into an infantry weapon to replace all our flathrowers. It’s much easier to lug around than a flar and far more effective. Thanks to our micro-factories, and the technical prowess of the Heralds, we can field one Volkite Incinerator per a special weapons team, so five per company of Heralds.
“We are also in the process of evaluating two different Volkite designs for our vehicles so that they no longer have to keep large, poorly armoured exterior tanks fixed to their rear hulls to fuel their heavy flars. These patterns are the Volkite Cardanelle from the Kratos Heavy Assault Tank, or the Volkite Falconnet, usually found on a Deredeo Pattern Dreadnought. Unfortunately, we do not have the STCs for the original vehicles that went with them. Current simulations favour the Falconnet due to its lower power requirents. That’s the end of my presentation. Thank you for listening.”
There is another, shorter round of applause.
“Thank you, Róisín. That was most enlightening. Emyr, I hate to do this to you after you spent so long preparing for it, but I think we’ve heard enough for one day. Would you mind presenting your possible research topics for another day?”
“Not at all, Magos. All of them could be summarised as waiting on proper facilities, further technology acquisitions, or other resources.”
“That is most magnanimous of you. How about you send a list of the projects and we can go over what you might need in private tomorrow.”
“That would be wonderful,” says Emyr.
I receive an alert with files pertaining to a Kugelblitz Drive, three different blackstone studies, a necrodermis study, and a multi-vessel Gellar Field. I absorb his reports in seconds and agree with his depreciating summary.
“Emyr, this is good work.”
“Much appreciated, Magos.”
“I’ll see you all at the next eting, everyone,” I say and receive a chorus of agreents. “Brigid, shall we take Dawn Garnet for a walk?”
“Sure. I have an extra thirty minutes now anyway.”
Two minutes into the walk, I say, “You used the research from the conjoined twin Tech-Priests back on Marowlv to modify the displacer field for Dawn Garnet!”
Brigid chuckles, “That didn’t take you long.”
“Ti is subjective.”
“Ah, you cheated with your implants.”
“Absolutely.”
“Fair enough,” Brigid shrugs.
Walking Dawn Garnet soon becos a frequent activity for Brigid and I. As a cyber mastiff, Dawn Garnet requires no exercise, but like all cyber mastiffs, she is more obedient and fewer overrides are required when she is given opportunities to express her natural behaviours. The pleasant task lets us spend ti together that has no expectations and does much to llow and improve our relationship.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
We have so many cyber mastiffs on board that walking them would be a real problem if they weren’t simulation compatible. Sotis they’re stuffed into stasis or cryogenics, but that’s a last resort as it costs more energy than a Sim. It is annoying to take them in and out of forced hibernation when they train with their squads most days too.
Nine months after our departure from Kinbriar, I ascend the navigator spire and climb into the Warp Sextant tank. Once I am subrged, I open my third eye and peer into the Immaterium, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kinbriar V’s final monts.
I am imdiately distracted by the Astronomicon. It is absurdly bright, brighter than any Imperial record I have for it. No longer does it burn with fury and despair, but is dominated by a calm and asured aura of disciplined sacrifice. The new energy has a distinct frequency too, muddled as it is with so many others, and is one that I recognise, if only because I am so familiar with it.
Absolute fury bubbles up inside . That fucker is burning my soul! It takes a good ten minutes to calm down enough to look at the situation more objectively. Those four and a half million kills I paid the Emperor to resurrect the five Space Marines were obviously way more than what he needed to create new souls, or whatever the fuck he actually did. I knew he would take a tithe, but that chubby little infant clearly decided that tithe ant everything that I have, no matter how much I might need it.
A concurrent mind pushes a simple calculation towards the rest of us. Those five million souls are enough to fuel the Astronomicon for approximately twelve years, depending on how much energy he actually used to fulfil my request. It also demonstrates the absolutely disgusting number of people that have been fed to the Emperor to keep the fires of Humanity burning back the shadows of the Long Night over the past ten millennia.
I have no idea what this phenona has triggered throughout the galaxy, but I am absolutely certain the zealous fools have started dozens, if not hundreds of campaigns, and rushed to start new colonies on fresh worlds, likely triggering the greatest xenocide since the seven year Macharian Crusade in 392.M41, a crusade that added over a thousand worlds to the Imperium of Man.
I’ve taphorically dropped a vortex grenade on my foot too and absolutely shredded the tiline, even though I was specifically trying to avoid doing so. I had hoped that our accidental trip to before the formation of the Great Rift would let us grab more resources before everything went to shit.
That might no longer be the case.
I sigh, watching the bubbles rush over my face and feel them tickling my cheeks. There’s nothing I can do about this now and there’s no way I won’t need more miracles. Especially as every sufficiently powerful navigator in the galaxy is now going to recognise my soul signature, burning like a fucking oil field near the middle of the galaxy, if I et them in person.
I re-focus on Kinbriar . We’re zero point two seven light years from Kinbriar so it will be over three months before the light of the relativistic weapon strike reaches us. The Warp is less strict and I had hoped the Warp might reveal sothing, but nothing happens for over two hours. Other than alternating between anger and terror from the consequences of my choices. I am going to have to be extra careful when I draw on the Warp in the future.
Also, fuck Ylien for not pointing this out earlier. He might not be a navigator, but there’s no way he didn’t notice. Sure, he’s sticking to his word, though he clearly doesn’t give a shit about or my people.
Well, the feeling’s mutual.
Ylien’s supposed praise of in front of Orodor and his rejection of his own people must have been as much an act as it was the truth. The double faced nature of the Eldar just isn’t sothing I can get my head around. My previous attempt to be a better person and set aside my fear and hatred of the Eldar when I first let Ylien aboard has achieved little.
I can’t decide if I should feel smug about being right all along; that I tried and therefore have improved myself regardless of success; feel silly for failing to prevent the sudden and inevitable betrayals; or perhaps I should believe I have found success for I have traded and gained materials and knowledge from my Eldar relationships, more than I could ever reasonably hope for.
Ylien has provided many vital lessons in how to channel and harness the Warp safely, and I likely know far more than all but the most ancient psykers could hope to live long enough to learn. My power is greater than it ever was, though I rarely have cause to use it. He’s even scribed grimoires, filled with Aeldari script, on all manner of wards and other enchanted gear.
The runes and Eldar arcanotech are all focused on working with wraithbone, but with my arcanotech expertise gifted to by E-SIM, I am slowly converting Ylien’s knowledge into useful tools and protections. Most especially spells that hide and protect my soul and mind, protective enchanted jewellery for my most senior officers, and detection gear for the Psy-Errants, who have taken over the role of Twist Catchers within the fleet.
The Imperium does have psy-jamrs and other similar gear to what I am making, but it is rare and reserved for Inquisitors. E-SIM also has an internal and external psy-jamr design, and many other goodies, but I can’t afford them right now, thanks to the almighty greed of the Emperor.
With nothing happening, I close my third eye and start to drain the tank only to feel a monuntal pulse through the Warp, greater even than when the Avatar of Tzeentch descended on Marwolv.
I stop the drain and reopen my third eye. A vast weight descends upon the whole region and I witness a great shadow in the Warp rushing beneath the turbulent waves of the Immaterium. A golden baby fist punches through to the Materium and returns to the Warp. Between its finger and thumb, like it’s squashing a fly, is a hot white spark of rage and power.
The shadow recedes and the Immaterium goes dead still. No strange birds flock on distant islands. No twisted deep sea creatures flail their tentacles on the surface, and not even the pink clouds wafting high above so much as twitch, their forms stuck between mocking shapes, like a half finished art project of a nightmare inspired artist.
The Astronomicon dims significantly.
A scream echoes throughout the Materium and an image pulses along my tenuous connection with the Emperor. No longer does a chubby baby sit upon the throne, but a young boy, five years of age in appearance. His eyes bore into , forcing knowledge into my head.
I scream as my brain pours from my eyes, nose, and ears, His will keeping awake so that I will never forget even a byte of this new data. The mont the data exchange ends, I pass out.
Aldrich.
“Ouch.”
Seven hours, twelve minutes. Full functionality restored.
“Thanks E-SIM. What did we get?”
An STC on how to produce Phase-Iron, an anti-psyker tal. It is good for hulls, armour, prison cells, and restraints. It will work particularly well for Warpsbane hulls and circuitry for warding electoos for non-psykers. The primary ingredients are blackstone, plasteel, and gold. You will not be able to handle it directly as it will burn you like acid. As all your implants are always channelling Warp energy, this tal could kill you quite easily.
“He gave my own Kryptonite as a reward? I was going to say getting sothing useful is better than a kick in the teeth, but I don’t think that saying applies here.”
If you add it to the sacred blood mix, or to cogitators, any Servitor or Machine-Spirit that becos corrupted would spontaneously combust, or at least be rendered non-functional.
“Wow, that's good! I could really ramp up my automation and increase the power of the Machine-Spirits with such a safeguard. What’s the catch?”
It is expensive. Your blackstone supplies might stretch to armouring Iron Crane and upgrading Sadako and her Servitors, but not much else. The STC suggests blackstone is an artificial material, but does not state how to make it. Unsurprising, as it is only found on Necron worlds. If you want enough to outfit hundreds of ships, thousands of vehicles, and millions of personnel, you will have to conquer not just Tomb Worlds, but whole dynasties. Alternatively, you would need to buy the loyalty of a Cryptech.
“The only thing I can offer a Cryptech is freedom from their Dynasty. For people that have been slaves for so long, finding one that is even capable of thinking about freedom will be a challenge. I am not convinced by the little show the Kinbriar V Necrons put on.”
There is always Trazyn the Infinite.
I clasp my hands in prayer, “Machine God. Please protect thy Servant from immortal, kleptomaniac robots!”
You’re not that lucky.
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