As the Halo Crusade Fleet dropped out of hyserspeed near the Exnihilo system, the giant Craftworld appeared on the main hololith screen, with most solar sails retracted while a hive of void fighters and escort craft buzzed around like an angry bee swarm.
Mostly ignoring my fleet, the Craftword continued their landing operations onto the Forge World, while a single escort with a pair of fighters moved to intercept my fleet.
"Lancefire and other Mon-kheys! State your intentions or be destroyed!" the corvette-sized craft sent via a non-secured vox transmission.
"Ehem. They appear to be rather arrogant, these sneaky Eldar. Although they also know your name, Lord Captain. Curious." Celine, a grand-daughter of mine who had the Vox Master post observed with a grim tone.
"Well, we are not going to be destroyed, Celine. And since a single of our Blackstone Fortresses is quite a match for their Craftworld, they also know that. I am inviting their Void captain aboard, for more secure negociations..." I answered in a mild voice, then displaced the rude Eldar right in front of my command throne, and under the guns of a security squad of Primaris Astartes in Terminator Armor.
"You, you are the...Lancefire?" the Eldar Captain yelled at first, then reduced his volume as he realized where he stood.
"If you mean the saviour of your entire race, and the one who killed Slaneesh, then yes. I am that Lancefire. Rogue Trader Pef Lancefire, among other titles..." I replied in a casual tone.
"..." The Eldar guy hesitated for a minute, probably rethinking his latest words. Then he bowed low. "Many still cannot believe the dreaded She-who-Thirsts is actually dead. But we know, for Lord Ynnead has been born, just like Emissary Yvraine has promised." he stated in a more respectful voice.
I remained silent and waited. There was more.
"Many of us wonder if your famous friendship with Lord Cegorach is also due to your similar genocidal inclinations. What we gained is barely above what we lost, on the grand scales of time. " the Eldar continued in a grave voice.
I nodded. "So you are saying, I wasn't genocidal enough? Should I tip the scales a bit more? Blow up a few more Craftworlds, perhaps?" I asked a bit curious.
His eyes flashed with fear, then anger. "That's not at all what I was saying, Lord Lancefire. As for this cleansing action on the nearby planet, we do not need your help. Biel-Tan has enough forces to eradicate the menace."
I sighed out loud. "I think you're saying that you are about to comit genocide on an Imperial Forge World, and I should stand back and allow it. Not only that, but my aid in this genocide is not neccessary. Correct?"
"This world is not an Imperial planet, Lord Lancefire. That mad techpriest Vettius_Telok is trying to merge with an ancient weapon from the War in Heavens, the Caoineag and in doing so, eradicate this entire timeline and the galaxy as well. He must be destroyed." the Eldar guy claimed in a convinced voice.
Hmmm. Temporal manipulations and eradicating the galaxy? Was this C'tan weapon something similar to the Celestial Orrery used by the Necrons?
If so, a silly techpriest with silly superstitions might indeed produce a cataclysm of galactic proportions.
'Is this true? Zath?' I asked on the Manifold.
'Pretty much. Their Farseer was not wrong, until now. We should recover and re-reprogram the Breath for safer use. Unless you do want to destroy the galaxy.' the C'tan star god answered in slight humour. Maybe not humour. This C'tan guy was likely more genocidal than me.
I thought for a minute, considering a dozen scenarios, from landing my army on the planet to help the Eldar, and up to destroying both the Eldar and the doomed Forge World, and stealing the weapon in between. But I also knew the eyes of the Gods were locked on this place, since the Emperor himself sent a message, and Yvraine was likely behind all this, for her own God.
Sneaking away with the loot and faking a mutual destruction scenario wasn't going to fly. Fine. I could sell my services for the highest bidder, and then steal the loot. Much better.
"I will have to verify all this, and likely speak with both the Fabricator and your Farseer. Meanwhile, try to consider what my aid is worth, and what can you offer me in return. And pray it is more valuable than what the Fabricator will offer. Rogue Trader is not only a title, after all." I concluded with a smirk, then sent the Eldar guy back on his ship.
It took a minute, but the Fabricator of Exnihilo was not very hard to find. Although he seemed infested with strange crystals inside and out, so he wasn't exactly credible either. As for the other tech-priests and acolytes on the planet, the less said the better. Whatever the C'tan weapon did, they weren't human anymore, and more like half-stone and crystal puppets.
"Lord Lancefire, that's quite a big fleet you have there. Over 500 capital ships and those two giant forts? It is quite enough for my plans. Join me, and we will conquer both Terra and Mars with ease. After I become the new Emperor, you can be my Serene Vizier, my right hand in the Imperium." Magos Telok proposed with a giant grin.
Dude, that's like a dozen heresies in one sentence, with the lesser ones being worth death by furious pyre and the others even worse. But trying to give me more work as my reward for treason was quite the cherry on top.
I heard my Inquisior wife's teeth grind together in anger, while Sister Stern began to glow menacingly. This too, reminded me why stupid people should not be allowed to rule anything.
"That's quite a radical proposal, Fabricator Telok. Let me consider it, and I'll get back to you." I answered politely and turned the pict screen off. "Going autistic, now! And check the cogitators for datasphere viruses, protocols Gamma and Omega." I ordered in a heavy voice.
A few minutes of wary and tense checking followed, as the Blade and my Techsorcists struggled to clean up the cogitator buffers of insidious memetic attacks, which split-off copies and roamed the ship's network like a disease spreading at hyperspeed.
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'I'll clean up the personality transfer mess. And have your pet cryptek check again afterwards. The weapon is more potent than you realize.' Zath sent on the Manifold, raising the threat level of this mad Fabricator to Tier 9 in my personal danger scale. And since Tier 10 were Dark Gods and others on that scale, Mister Telok was in quite good company.
Sadly, it took an hour of datasphere combat to erase the vestiges of a minute of video chat with the infected techpriest.
So when the Eldar Farseer flew towards the Singularity battleship on a lone void fighter, I sighed in relief. The Eldar was willing to pay for my help, which meant the battle was half won.
Now, I only had to choose my currency in which to be paid.
"Rogue Trader Pef Lancefire, I am Farseer Bielanna Faerelle. Have you spoken to the mad techpriest? And emerged undamaged?" she asked a bit rhetorical.
"There's nobody alive on that planet, Farseer. The C'tan weapon has consumed everyone and puppets them for fun. And you need my firepower to cleanse every trace of this weapon. So make your offer." I declared in a bartering tone.
Her hand wavered in mid-air, and she lowered it. "I guess you're mostly right, Rogue Trader. Perhaps a skilled mind healer could help a few of them, but the risk is too great, for no gain at all.
Perdita, is what you called such worlds, Inquisitor?" the Farseer asked my wife with a knowing voice.
"The Halo Crusade Fleet has entered autistic mode, blocking any signals from the planet or nearby space. The case is even worse than a Perdita nomenclature, Farseer. Anyway, Lord Lancefire is in command of the Crusade, while I merely observe for the Emperor of Mankind." the Inquisitor answered with a serene voice, then smiled mildly at me.
I got the message anyway. 'Don't fuck it up, Pef. I got your back, as long as you don't break too many laws.'
The Farseer took out an Imperial dataslate, and hovered in mid-air with her psychic powers. "This Void Spinner is armed solely with a monofilament cannon, except that it incorporates a techno virus that sterilizes the ground that it touches. This makes it extremely useful against the Orks due to the Ork's spore-based method of reproduction, preventing further re-infestation. Useless on this planet, but quite valuable to recover Ork-infested ground."
I mean, we also had similar research going at the Fungal Research Station back home, using the hex virus we obtained from the Dark Eldar, but a proper anti-Ork weapon was quite valuable.
"Maybe even more useful against the Tyranids, if it does work. That's a good trade, almost. But Biel-Tan is the homeworld of Yvraine, right? The God of the Dead wants somebody killed, he should pay me with a resurrection. My mother, in this case." I demanded in a cold voice, while producing the stasis coffin with the soul-less body of my long dead mother, reconstructed by Isha a while ago.
The Farseer glanced inside the coffin for a second, and her face paled ever more. And Eldar weren't sunbathing at all. "You would entrust me with your mother?" she asked in a short breath.
"That's only her body. Your Goddess Isha reconstructed it from a single strand of hair, but her Domain is not Death. Anyways, my mother died fighting and killing Fulgrim, the Daemon Serpent of Slaanesh. Asking Isha to build her a new body will be a bit awkward though, even if she owes me a favour or two. Divine favours are rather expensive, even for a Rogue Trader as skilled as myself." I spoke in a mild tone, while snatching the floating dataslate with my tesseract.
Damn Eldar, sitting on such a precious weapon like this Void Spinner, while the galaxy was over-run by Orks and whatever else critters. They were just as bad as the Cult Mechanicus.
"If Lady Lancefire died as you claim...even Yvraine will consider it. But if not, my Craftworld will plead with Lord Ynnead himself, and pay his price. The galaxy will be saved today, so it will be worth it." the Farseer spoke in a faint voice, then vanished as I returned her on her Craftworld, along with my mother's stasis coffin.
'So, are you ready for a show, Zath?' I asked a bit amused.
'Don't miss with those Nova Mines. They kinda hurt from up close.' the C'tan Star God sent back on the Manifold, and teleported deep inside the planet.
I might have overspent a a few hundred Nova Mines to make the planetary bombardment credible, especially with a keen Farseer watching me.
But as the Halo Crusade moved on, and Exnihilo burned to the crust, Zath carefully fixed a new glowing crystal on my glove. Just in case I wanted to detonate a star, or create a new one. I had the power of creation at my fingertips now, literally.
'Should I hold my breath when I use it?' I asked the C'tan with an innocent voice.
'You're being childish, Lord Captain. When you hold the Breath of the Gods in your hand, you are even stronger than my Transcendant body in your Vault. It is not a toybox, like that silly tech-priest thought.' Zath answered in a grave voice.
'I want to make adamantium now. Armed Sentinels made of adamantium. And power fists for their arms.' I demanded in a petulant voice.
'At least is not stone golems with stone fists. Humanity is still doomed...' the ancient Star God complained in a childish voice.
'Live a little, Zath! We need to manufacture more of that Eldar virus though, and genocide some Orks planets next. I bet you'll love that, right?' I asked a bit rhetorical.
The alien wolf grinned at me with a hungry mouth. He never said no to another genocide.