My new Drop-cruisers were left behind in the galactic north, because being able to intervene rapidly with drop-pods would be extremely helpful and will save countless lives.
Once the Moloch Crusade would be declared finished, the light cruisers commanded by my daughters will return home, after visiting a Forge World each, to spread out more STC dataslates and pict and sensors logs of the turret drop results.
The Mechanicus tech-priests were not stupid and will realize rapidly the advantages of this new doctrine.
I didn't have much hope with the Imperial Navy or the Astra Militarum, as I rarely saw any of my templates deployed in the field. Some night vision sensors, recon units with cheap Weasels, and sometimes the new Manticores and Hydras. In such small quantities they wouldn't impact much, except perhaps keep the regiment commanders a bit safer.
However, Commissar Cain did not disappoint, and he made himself a big hero again by 'discovering' a large genestealer cult on Isis V, then leading the troops into a grinding civil war which resulted in a costly victory.
I bet Cain is glad for his 'relic' sword now, as well as his new power armor and shield. Perhaps even more happy with his tough but loyal Catachan all-female bodyguards.
And funny enough, his former aide Jurgen was totally admired by the Catachan women I assigned to him, for being a real man, smelly and rough.
I began to doubt the wisdom of trying to breed Orgyn females, as those would surely have even stronger taste in men. I wouldn't give up until I tried a few times, just for variety’s sake.
In the meantime, I did have plenty of Norse women to pick and choose, or let Regina pick and choose for me.
The new armor specialist, Reila_Vann was even a greater treasure, especially after testing my special relic sword on a dozen captured Orks and regaining a slightly more youthful appearance.
"My Lord, is this type of weapon common among Astartes?" Reila asked while examining herself in the mirror, with a confused but amazed face.
She even got naked just to see everything was in the right place. And Reila had great forms, even if I saw little from my chair.
"Not common at all, General. They are called ancient relics for reason." I explained patiently.
"I see, so it is a great honor to even be allowed to use it once. And I suppose, you returned my body to youth, so you can fuck me, like you do with all those Valhallan women?" Reila guessed at random, and emerged from the shower to parade her young body in front of me and Canis. Damn cocktease!
Well, I wouldn't say no if she offered, but she did not, so that was it.
Instead, I smiled thinly and shrugged. "I need your mind and experience, my dear General. As for making babies, that is a more complicated and involved procedure. Even if we both wanted to, my nurses and Apothecaries and the Biologis tech-priests have to conduct a whole battery of tests and scans. I told you how dangerous Astartes gene-seed is."
My new General sighed as if I missed the point. "Just get naked and lie on the bed, Pef Lancefire. I need to test my new body, and there's nobody else here I can trust."
I blinked in confusion, while Canis just sighed and turned on the other side, probably amazed at my idiocy.
Rafen just grinned and held his thumb up for luck. All right then. I could be lucky sometimes.
So I got out of my armor and laid in bed, and allowed Reila to test her young body, in every manner she could think of.
Guess I now have a General concubine to oversee the other guardswomen. And perhaps a wife, should the others agree to this.
When our small warp-less fleet arrived at Sotha, we found it under attack again, by more Orks. I wasn't surprised and just led the Battleship forward to defend the Aegida Fortress, while the carriers began launching the corvettes and the stafighters.
In void combat the Orks were somewhat easy to defeat, even using conventional methods, but these Orks had figured out a way to weaponize tellyporta' and launched gretchins and Ork boyz as boarders and even as destructive ordnance, since a gretchin materializing inside an energy conduit or a targeting cogitator did damage just by breaking down the expensive machinery.
Of course, they have not considered teleporting bombs and warheads, nor being teleported themselves into my tesseract. Soon enough, three Ork Terror ships and 22 Kroozers vanished in flares on Nova mines, although the mines still targeted flocks of Ork space fighters and boarding boats.
And imagine my surprise to find a working fragment of an STC on the largest Ork Kroozer, something to do with teleportarium technology.
The Orks were surely crazy and lucky enough, to repurpose that ancient machine into something they could use for a Waagh. Possibly a mass-transit system for a spaceport during the Dark Age of Technology.
I already was planning how to weaponize this discovery for my own use, for example for quick torpedo re-loads and teleporting turrets on the ground, or even inside enemy ships. Just place teleport beacons on the weapons, and they could be even retrived afterwards, without using time and fuel for landers and dropships.
Sadly, the research and testing for this project would take a few decades, even for a larger Forge World.
Anyway, my Rose wasn't back on Sotha yet, but her own blonde infocyte lady was, with a whole store of Tau databases and weapon research slates.
"I will need three copies of that data, my dear." I asked in a polite voice. But I didn't need to remain polite, if Calixa didn't cooperate.
The blonde assassin measured me with obvious uncertainty. "The Inquisitor asked that everything that I recovered to be sealed. Sorry, Lord Lancefire."
I sighed inward, then stepped closer nearly touching her with my armored chestplate. "We are on the same team, Calixa. Or do I need to take out my Rosette?" I asked softly and tapped the null box suggestively.
"...Errr. Don't do that, my lord. Clavis engrams will play havoc with my neural modules and I'll be rather incapacitated for a week. Why do you need three copies?" the infocyte grumbled as she took our three data-stacks and began downloading the data from her encrypted MIU.
"My own infocyte agent needs a copy, Forge Retribution needs one, and the third...well. The third will go way over your paygrade. The big powers will want to take a look, and that might be my ticket for a High Lord seat. You know, the one being arranged for the Rogue Traders?" I whispered in a secretive voice.
"...I didn't know, my lord. So, are we friends now?" the cute assassin asked in a failed attempt at seduction.
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Already seeing herself riding on the parade, on Holy Terra. Then again...a cute infocyte? I could use another, in every way. Backups were only natural, in case something went wrong. I snapped my fingers to produce an Obsidian Auguries security tag.
"This obsidian plate will grant you extra access, should you be in dire need." I explained in a soft whisper, right into her ear.
Calixa hugged my arm and examined the credit card wafer with a hundred tiny auspex sensors, finding nothing to indicate advanced technology. Except perhaps the blackstone rim, which kept the obsidian from cracking or flaking.
But I wasn't an infocyte to track data, or a psyker to track psychic imprints. Simply the memory of this object would allow me to locate it anywhere in range of the Pharos, or in range of the Sounding Board if needed.
"I expect the blackstone is meant to prevent psykers from detecting this...ID card? Or is it something else?" she mused softly, voice trembling a bit with excitement.
"We'll discuss the rest in private." I explained and made her vanish in my labyrinth. Best way to extract someone from an Inquisition's Fortress. I wasn't like I would carry a woman on my back, if she fit in my pocket.
But first, I had to check on Mister Trazyn, and the new warp-less drive. I did pay for it in advance, after all.
And of course, to recover the few Lamenters still part of the Deathwatch, which had just arrived at the Fortress, during the time I was away. Amadeus Chyropheles, now known as Chyron, was a Space_Marine_Dreadnought, with millennia of experience, while Veteran Brother Semnai was the only combat-capable Lamenter remaining to my Chapter.
I didn't count the support staff as Battle-Brothers, even if they could technically fight. I needed their knowledge and experience, not an extra gun.
Experience regarding galactic lore, xenos races, plagues and Chaos demons or tactics. The Lamenters have travelled all over the galaxy, and knew lots and lots of secrets, hidden routes and meeting places, Webway portals and forgotten ship graveyards.
They didn't even know how valuable their knowledge was, and I wouldn't tell them. I just downloaded all the ship logs, and had the Auxilia crew or the senior Lamenters retell each and every encounter, when and where a certain sighting has occurred, who was present, what else was in the system and so on.
Sadly, most of the old astropaths had died, as they were never meant to last long. But we had the Navigators, which was almost as good. Sure, they saw and remembered events in a haze of temporal currents and prophetic dreams, but they would know the routes back. It was their job after all.
"You don't look and feel like a Lamenter, Master Lancefire." Brother Semnai told me straight to my face. My angelic face.
I just sighed and snapped my fingers, storing him inside the tesseract as well. Hopefully he'll get better, once he was on the Starfort and among other, real Lamenters.
Venerable-Brother Chyron did not grumble or care I wasn't a proper Lamenter, instead being glad of having found his way back to the beloved Chapter.
"We must be in a sorry state, if one such as yourself is now Chapter Master. I feared nobody was left alive after that disastrous Badab War." the half-dead Lamenter lamented in a pitiful tone, and you could sense his sadness pouring out of the armored shell.
Canis smelled the towering coffin on legs and mewled back at me in confusion.
"Yes Canis. Chyron is one of us, so don't bite him." I quipped in a cheerful voice, and patted the robot on the side. "Come with me Chyron, we're teleporting down." I explained in my next breath, and started walking towards the teleportarium.
Two squads of Scythes and Executioners dressed in black armor stood guard at the entrance, and one of them stepped forward to block my way.
"Nobody may access the Pharos, not even you, Master Lancefire." the Deathwatch proclaimed grimly, and raised his combi-bolter towards me.
Oh well, I guess we'll have more temporal anomalies today!
As the squads vanished in my labyrinth, I took out the cog-shaped Rosette and began unlocking the teleport safeties.
"That is a good trick, Master Lancefire. And even the Rosette is genuine." Chyron praised me in a slightly surprised tone.
I just nodded, and patted Canis, making him vanish too. Teleporting was bad for his stomach after all.
In a violet flash of Warp and madness, we emerged inside the Pharos, to find it cleaned up completely. No more Astartes oaths and canticles, no more battle flags and purity seals. Just black walls and an intact C'tan, slightly crucified on the wall with chains of living stone.
This must have been Amberley's work, trying to appease the alien god somehow.
"Pef Lancefire. You have saved me again!" the Ctan shard spoke in a booming voice. Uh, this was unexpected. The C'tan seemed glad to see me.
"Hello again, Mighty Zarhulash. What do you...ah. The teleporting Orks. I see." I realized after a second.
Those cretin greenskins would have ruined plenty of things with a C'tan as a slave. Probably half the galaxy or something.
"The Orks knew about me, Pef Lancefire. And they also had the means to reach me down here. Not an accident." The C'tan concluded as a warning. Some damn Eldar Farseer, most likely. When in doubt, blame the Eldar...and you won't be far from the truth.
I turned towards the Dreadnought and pointed towards the god shard. "This person is Zarhulash, a shard of the Potentate. Xeno species C'tan, destructive abilites about the same with a Segmentum Battlefleet. Also immortal and extremely learned." explained while returning the Sounding Board to its dais and releasing the protective stasis field.
"C'tan...I know of them. Deceiful, liars and even aiding the Necrons in combat. The Deathwatch lost many teams to his kind." Chyron rumbled from within his coffin.
Zarhulash wanted to say something, before glancing down in sadness.
"Mostly true, Chyron. The Necrons broke them, and enslaved them as weapons. But there are a few still free, and causing mayhem for their own pleasure. What's that C'tan's name, Mighty Zarhulash? The Deceiver?" I asked as a data-stick appeared in my hand. A databse of Tau technology, which should aid Trazyn in his task.
"Mephet'ran. Yes, that is the Deceiver you ask about, Pef Lancefire. There are at least six of his shards still free, travelling the galaxy and causing mayhem and strife. It shames me to be of same race as that creature." the ancient C'tan divulged in obvious sorrow.
Well then. A new trade deal sounded wonderful.