'Lash! You know what this is?' I asked the C'tan with a digital poke.

'A cogitator, as you can clearly see in the visible spectrum. But...way more advanced than the crap you have around. Still wrapped in some kind of altar though. These Demiurg aren't any better than your silly tech-priests.' the wolf C'tan growled at me and somehow lifted his hind leg to scratch his head.

"Wooo?" my other wolf proposed in his wise ways.

"Yes, Canis. Of course we will take it. The problem is...how to see what's inside?" I asked out loud, then dutifully scratched Canis on the head, until my fingers skipped over the Mind Impulse Unit.

Problem solved! Maybe Canis was the genius in this family.

A flick on my chest opened the Null Box, and I retrieved my real Rosette. Clavis engrams rushed out towards the Demiurg machine, and I tenderly opened the Manifold to interface with the strange machine.

"I would ask if this is wise, but I suspect it would be too late..." I heard my bodyguard mutter before I flew away into the noosphere, entering the digital mindscape of the Demiurg.

"Old codes! Terran codes! Who are you?" the metallic tasting Machine Spirit asked in a curious voice.

"There are different truths to this question, Demiurg. For example, your name means creative force, along with divine spirit and hundreds of other meanings. I am Pef Lancefire." I answered with a curious tone as well.

"Clever, clever! You are not Kin, yet you are an old soul. Maybe older than me." the Demiurg spirit answered as it began to link with my own implant database, trying to force open any file it might find.

"Now, don't go stealing data just like that. I will give you my data file, so you can observe my life and my deeds." I continued in a more relaxed tone, as the Pef-for-life.dat/M41 was sent towards the Demiurg cogitator.

Minutes passed as the machine digested my history, from birth to today. Not everything of course, but the major datapoints. Parents, education, early campaigns, the Crusades, Cadia, and even some newer stuff from Terra and Stygius. I should find time to complete my logs, with this new Crusade.

"Uh? I would say you're soft iron, but then you're here. And the giant Black Fortress too. What will happen to me, Pef Lancefire?" the Demiurg asked in a more pitiful and resigned tone.

"You have two choices, my new friend. One, the Mechanicus will take you apart, cog by cog and file by file. Much like your Kin, they worship technology and seek to understand. I hear it's not pleasant for the machine itself." I offered in a kind voice.

"I will take the second option, thank you!" the Fane cogitator exclaimed in record time.

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"The second option, you will receive a new Kin. My Lancefire family in the Fringe numbers around a billion, with thousands of ships and other war machines. We also have hundreds of STCs and even an intact Ark from the Golden Age." I proposed in a more modest voice.

"This does sound better. And what will happen to my old Kin?" the Demiurg asked in a fearful voice.

"Well...Let's see. Those who took up arms against our troops are already dead. Those who did surrender will be taken by the Inquisition, to answer for the crime of sharing STC data with the Tau alien empire. And there are a dozen Bastion ships hidden in my pocket, as well as their crews and a few million mining drones." I said in a lighter tone.

"I see. To the victor the spoils. Perhaps we shouldn't have given the Tau our Ion technology...." the Demiurg answered in a contemplating tone.

As I drew back, the Demiurg Fane folded in my good tesseract, while I replaced the empty space with a hundred dead mining drones pilled up to fill the cogitator alcove. Battle damage, so sad.

"Lord Lance...nevermind. I expect we are good here?" my bodyguard asked in a more relaxed voice, now that I wasn't mind-linked with a dubious alien machine.

"Good is relative. Too bad we couldn't find a working cogitator on this deck. Let's keep searching!" I ordered, as Lash took point to absorb any Demiurg traps which may remain. The C'tan shard was more durable than a battleship anyways. He'll be fine.

Canis moved at my side and nudged my glove, expecting another scratch for his wise advice. So he got it. I can be nice. I can!

Was the Demiurg worth the lives of 19 of my Blank sons, as well as another million Auxilia troops? The Mechanicus would turn a dozen Sectors and trillions of Imperial citizens to ash without a doubt, for such a find. They probably burned even more already, just to recover fragments of the ancient knowledge. Their Exploratory fleets didn't carry all those guns for fireworks.

By the next day, I had packed up all the Demiurg remains in the system, some in our cargo holds, others in the tesseract, and my Chapter returned to full numbers by producing 19 new Lamenters from my pocket.

If the Culexus wanted more Blanks, they should show up filled with equal value gifts. My sons were not for sale. Not cheaply, I mean.

After this, me and Lash were a bit busy unlocking and absconding with a working Necron Pylon, which should mesh quite nicely with my second Black Fortress. Picking a name for it would be harder.

Damn, a pet C'tan was amazing to have, no wonder Trazyn did so well.

'You have more snacks in your second labyrinth, Rogue Trader? I did well, didn't I?' the C'tan asked with a hungry voice.

Ah yes. He needs to eat more souls. Canis only needs meat pellets...but he can't make me C'tan level tech. Choices, choices.

'Of course, my brave wolf! What would you like for supper? Ork or Tyranid?' I proposed with a joyful voice. I did have to thin the Ork numbers anyways.

'No Demiurg?' They taste much better.' the C'tan complained in a childish tone.

'Careful now. Snacking on prisoners is not the same as snacking on combatants. What would your brother say?' I warned him in a gentle voice, while flicking out more useless Orks.

Crunch, crunch! The C'tan ate his vegetables with a sad face, but he still ate them all. Good boy!

"Don't say anything...we never saw anything..." my fierce bodyguard muttered while staring blankly at the ceiling. He was learning fast.

"Wrrr. Woof!" Canis growled and dragged a plump Ork to a corner, to eat some vegetables as well.

"Don't fight over food, you two! I still have some Orks left, and there's a hundred Orks planets en route to Forge Metalica. Might as well relax a little, and refill our pantry, after all this hard fighting." I proposed in a kind voice.

"WOOOO!" both wolves howled loudly. Orks were great.

Even Brother Joghaten seemed to perk up at the news. Orks made for excellent sport hunting.