Again, I am glad for the presence of my Astartes bodyguard, as the Mechanicus is very, very interested in the origin of those relics they have received.

They might have grabbed me and drained my brain otherwise, Warrant of Trade or not.

"Salvaging ancient archeotech is dangerous, Lord Pef. You need to let the Mechanicus spearhead the reclamation." the Fabricator General says and offers me another plate of cake and tea.

I was never treated this well, not even by Antax.

Still, the cake is very good and even Ludvaius seems to like it, if his thumb means what it should mean, instead of 'Run! Our ship is in orbit above.'

I smile politely. "Magos Explorer Gyron of Forge Antax is helping with that effort, Fabricator. You have seen what they did for me, upgrading my cruiser to highest Mechanicus standard."

He nods in silence and turns toward the cogitator screen, and prints a long list of possible rewards.

I could gain another Armored regiment and a destroyer, or a light cruiser, and a dozen Fellblades heavy tanks. It is very nice, and the cakes tastes great.

"What I need is a thousand Deimos pattern corvettes, Fabricator. Hopefully armed with laser batteries or plasma cannons, but you know better what's possible or not. And I'll make sure you receive a transport hauler full of Mechanicus relics." I demand in a meek voice.

I do need a large fleet, and a dedicated Forge World to keep making cheap ships for the Imperium afterwards. Numbers have a quality of their own, like the Tyranids and the Orks prove constantly.

The Fabricator almost scowls in disgust. For someone like him, cheap corvettes have the same value as Chimera tanks. Disposable trash.

"It is possible, Captain Pef. It will take five decades though. And divert nearly half of the shipyards' production for this single task." he replies after a minute of deep computation.

"Forge Metalica can do it in 3 decades, and that's because the Navy has ordered 500 such ships already. So two decades is sufficient, if and only if you really want this kind of trade, Magos Terrion." I muse out loud. I was there when the corvette order was placed after all, so delays like this won't work on me.

I might have time, and gain more time due to Warp travel, but it doesn't mean I can afford to waste it.

More than that, I am considering sending transport ships towards Forge world in other sectors, and just beg to be granted the first batch of new corvettes in return. It won't work that well without my personal presence, but I will gain good will anyway.

A megatonne of adamantium plates and various relics among them should make any Fabricator quite generous, even if only by peer-pressure, like I'm attempting now.

"The future is uncertain, Lord Pef. That transport ship you promise might never arrive, or get caught in a storm and arrive millennia later." the Fabricator argues back, and this time I have no recourse.

It is true, obviously. Ships vanish in the Warp all the time.

Also, Gyron might give into greed and obsession for knowledge and confiscate everything for Antax, or himself.

"Yes, you are right Fabricator. But even then, the Navy always needs ships, so they'll be requisitioned by the next Admiral to pass by for certain. I only need a thousand ships. The Navy needs millions." I conclude and go to pick a few more gifts for my clan.

A dozen Fellblades wouldn't go amiss, nor another fighter squadron and a thousand new Chimeras.

Then I scroll down and poke a power armor template. The cheapest one.

"You already have armor, and it is of good quality." the Fabricator comments with a wave of tentacles. Uh, that's his limit?

"Boarding operations are very dangerous, Fabricator. My void marines...or at least the officers." I propose in a small voice.

"Fine. Light power armor for a hundred officers. In three decades. Now go, before you empty all the stasis cells." he orders me and opens the armored door to his study.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

A Deathwatch marine peeks inside. "It's only the trader, Inquisitor. And his bloody guard, of course." the black armored veteran explains as my Rose enters the study room.

Ludvaius growls in annoyance. "Watch your words, brother. Nice to meet you again, Inquisitor." he adds a second later.

Rose giggles as if amused. "Boys will be boys."

I nod politely and leave, feeling her power brush against my mind in welcome.

She must be at least a Beta level psyker, to manage that feat. Not someone I would normally keep company with.

Our Navigator, Lord Duros is only a Gamma level, and he seems quite bothered by Blanks, recoiling from Justine with visible pain.

Not that much by me, because I don't turn off his powers by mere presence.

In the next month, we repair and provision the cruiser with new consumables, and my new armor regiment, then replenish the lower deck serfs and load new servitors and a thousand more tech-priests.

Rose requisitions a regiment for herself, an auxiliary Guard regiment with another thousand tech-priests and more advanced weaponry. The difference from the regular regiments is quite obvious, as even the regular guardsmen have carapace armor and vox beads, not to mention melta guns and missile launchers for every single vehicle.

The Litany is full to capacity now, and the life support systems struggle to keep up with the increased demands.

Luckily I have all the idle tech-priests and servitors, to maintain the ship in optimum condition.

We depart for a Navy base, where we will regroup with escorts and other Navy ships conscripted by Rose for our beacon quest.

Tigrus provides only one corvette and a destroyer for extra protection.

It will take time til the shipyards start pouring thousands of cheap ships, but on galactic scale it means little. Travelling to Terra for example, would take a decade of real time.

A week of ship time later, we arrive at a Segmentum Ultima Naval base, where five battleships and a thousand of lesser ships wait for another deployment.

Rose goes to confer with the Admiral and requisition some of these ships for herself. A dozen bolter rounds later, the fleet changes leadership and gets split up to her wishes.

One Battleship, one battlecruiser and a dozen light cruisers, then 20 frigates and 50 destroyers become part of my battlegroup.

It's a huge display of political and military power, that the Inquisitor just achieved with minimal loss of life.

The new Stormtroopers of the Inquisition are transferred on the Victory-class_Battleship, to secure it more firmly. A single battleship has a million serfs and crew on board, and it needs a powerful army to keep loyal, even in better times.

It also has a hundred lance batteries, so it is well suited for the fringe, where there would be few ammunition depots for macrocannon shells.

The weasel guy goes with them, now dressed as a Navy Admiral. He even cleaned the blood from the uniform, so nobody suspects anything.

But even if they did, nobody comments out loud.

Rose is still an Inquisitor, even if in private she is rather sweet with me.

Decima hesitates to propose a marriage for now, as the woman holds too much power anyway. Only a Lord Inquisitor could check on Rose, or perhaps the High Lords on Terra.

I'm happy with things as they are. A powerful Inquisitor on my side is rather beneficial. Well, beside an unexpected bolter to my head.

Still, my new destroyer is loaded with my kids and sent to Ilevar via Antax. No point is risking the kids in a fleet action, should I die in Tyranid jaws or something.

Then we head for Sotha, and I return to my favorite pastime.

Making babies and repairing STC templates.

I have acquired a dozen agri-world templates, tractors and trains and various grain haulers. They are a mess, as expected.

But I can fix them, it's what I do.

"Fear the iron fist, for its grip is death."

000100111000

See? Even the implant spirit agrees.