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40 Thousand Reasons
Dirty laundry

Dirty laundry

"Anzion, be so kind and build each of them a suit of power armor. I'll freeze the cloning lab until you're ready." I asked from my genetor clone, then evicted the Dorn clones to their Phalanx, and returned to the Blood Salvation Fortress with my Primarch.

"What is it now, Warmaster?" Sanguinius asked, while sitting down in his office chair.

"I kinda promised the Administratum a solution for their lack of paper space, and risk of losing documents like on Ganymede. So, I will gift them a planetary-grade data-core, with a resilient Machine Spirit inside and a ton of hexagrammic wards and other Warp protections. I can also install a FTL transciever on it, such that digital documents can be sent from anywhere the Tachyon network has reach. Patrocles can carry it to Terra, since it's too large to fit on your Fort." I proposed with a level voice.

"I see. Well, Roboute will be charmed by your care for the paperwork, at least. Not that it will matter much in a few months." the Angel Primarch spoke with a faint smile.

I tapped my lips with my finger in a Inquisition sign. "It won't be nearly as bad for humanity as you fear, Primarch. Not good either, only different. Some people will be judged harsher than others, but this is not the Dark_King , nor the Drukhari clone-Emperor. But if I were you, I would leave the clone Fulgrim on Terra. Give him a job as an artist perhaps."

"The Inquisition? Why would you care about any Inquisitor's orders? Ah. Lady Rosalia." Sanguinius deduced with his giant brain.

"Anyways, since I'm here, might as well upgrade this Blackstone Fortress too. Time is getting a bit short, and even Mars will need a century to fix the big thing." I decided with a small smile.

The crew on the Blood Salvation vanished, only Patrocles appearing beside me as I sat down in my comfortable work chair. Having upgraded three other such forts already, plus the experience with the Phalanx made my work much easier and faster. Thick slabs of blackstone, and extra reinforcing plates from the Malan'tai thing, extra Arc reactors and weapon batteries, close-defense turrets and torpedo launchers...then 10 more Gellar Ramparts and extra Ares engines.

Some 9 hours later, I opened my eyes and grabbed the bottle ofered by Patrocles. Damn, but I've chosen to punish myself too much sometimes.

"I felt the star get drained a little. Then again, you're not drawing energy from the Warp, so it had to come from somewhere." Sanguinius noted with a thoughtful voice, while my son just stared at me with admiration and awe.

"Can I learn to do this as well, father?" Patrocles asked in a pleading tone.

I poked his left armpit. "You also have a hermetic core in your chest, Patrocles. Can you store corvettes already?" I asked instead.

"Nothing that large! Thunderhawks at most, for now. And of course, torpedoes and boarding parties. Still very useful, but the dimensional sight is the most important factor for now. We won many battles just with this aid." Patrocles spoke in a serious voice.

I nodded and handed him a data-slate with a few STC templates. "Humans are able to do anything, my son. They just need the willpower. It is how the Emperor endured the torment of the Golden Throne, and how a Silent Sister half your size can break a Great Daemon to screaming bits. I can't give you such willpower though. You have to take it, grab it with your hands and don't let go." I explained in a fatherly voice, while returning the crew of the Blood Salvation to their posts.

Sanguinius glanced between us, as Patrocles nodded with conviction in his eyes. "There is only one infested planet in this system, Warmaster. Our fleets should continue to contain and exterminate the rest of the Tyranids, and end this Fourth Tyrannic War. "

I scanned the system with my dimensional sense once more, to find Primarch Corax and the Custodes-General fighting side by side against a Norn Emissary that infiltrated their command bunker.

They were doing great, but they still took wounds for every strike they landed on the blurringly fast Tyranid assassin.

"Bring me the head." I demanded with a smile, and sent Patrocles down to help.

Sanguinius traced the Lamenter tech-marine as he appeared inside the Raven Guard's bunker. "You ask too much of your sons, Lancefire. Patrocles hasn't yet unsealed his...oh. Terminal danger was needed."

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Sanguinius was right, but he missed the point. My son was a Lancefire, and was even wearing the Lamenter's bleeding heart sigil on his power armor. The Norn Emissary hesitated, just enough for Patrocles to swipe his Phase Sword and take its head off.

With his unsealed core now open, Patrocles just grabbed the Emissary head and traversed the tesseract to appear back in the room.

"I did it, father! The Norn creatured showed fear, and it allowed me to strike first." my boy exulted as the Hive Mind's Emissary opened its mouth. "Lance..." it started saying, then it died.

"Very true, Patrocles. For we are Lancefires, and we are what they fear!" I commended him and patted his shoulder. Patrocles grinned like a child.

Behind Sanguinius, a shadow grew to allow Primarch Corax to step through. He patted his brother on his shoulder and pointed at bleeding head on the floor. "I had this thing on the ropes, Lancefire! Why did you...oh. It wasn't you, but this young tech-marine?"

Sanguinius grabbed the other Primarch's hand and pulsed with biokinetic magic, sealing his cuts and bleeding wounds. "Mind your words, brother. The Warmaster has your life in his palms, and the means to erase it. As for Patrocles Lancefire, the Emperor himself is watching over him. Or perhaps through him."

"Ugly Tyranid is dead, isn't this good?" Patrocles asked with a wary voice.

"Corax, say thank you to my son, for sparing you more wounds." I demanded from the Raven Primarch in a soft voice.

"I shouldn't have come back...Thank you, Tech-marine Lancefire. Your timing was pretty great and saved me a dozen more wounds." Corax muttered in a disgruntled voice.

"That wasn't so hard, was it? I'm getting the hang of this Warmaster job. You're going to wash my clothes from today onwards. I should get Khan to cook for me, with his knife skills. Mortarion to wash the dishes...it's going to be so fun!" I exclaimed in joy.

"We're doomed! Sanguinius, I don't want to do this anymore!" Corax pleaded to his brother.

"Angron could wear a skirt, and mop the floors. As for Perturabo...have him dig latrines for the troops?" Sanguinius proposed with a joking tone.

"I hear and obey, Primarch. Your stupid brothers will be put to work and helped to learn humility. I might have to discipline them a little, but Primarchs can grow their legs back, right?" I asked a bit rhetorical.

"Sanguinius! Do something!" Corax begged his brother with a rather desperate voice.

Patrocles Lancefire just watched in astonishment as his father reduced a Primarch to tears, simply by threatening him to do simple house chores like washing clothes.

"Washing clothes builds character, brother. And keeps your hands clean too." Sanguinius observed with a smirk.

Corax slumped on the floor, his eyes empty of life. "Killing daemons was so simple." he muttered in a low tone.

"I'm sure you will learn soap brands and washing temperatures quite quickly, Primarch. Your kind is rumoured to be quite smart." I offered in sympathy.

'This was a great show, Lord Captain! I have recorded it for eternity!' the Blade sent to my implant with a mirthful tone.

"Lancefire is trying to make us rebel, and then execute us, right?" Corax asked in a more rational voice towards his Primarch brother.

"The Emperor is content either way, Corax. You will fall in line, or die. I suspect he is not too fond of his Primarchs rebelling and nailing him to the Golden Throne either. We are seen as liabilities for humanity now." Sanguinius spoke in a mild voice, filled with pain.

Corax nodded with a sad face. "Yeah, we all failed."

"Some of us died fighting, Corax. Others were grievously wounded and stored in stasis. But when I came back from death, I was alone in this galaxy. You, Khan and Russ, all deserted your posts and went on a rampage. Hopefully Leman Russ will also return for the big light in the sky. Or you'll drag him out from the Warp, and beat the wolf out of him. " the Angel spoke with a glance towards me.

I sighed inward at the new orders. Dragging the mythical Fenris Wolf out of the Warp, when the thing could eat suns for snacks?

The Emperor could have chosen a harmless White Rabbit to dig out from a rabbit hole instead. But no, he went for the scary myths instead.