My eyes fall on a litany written with golden words on a flag, most certainly Chaplain's work.

"Where there is uncertainty, I shall bring light. Where there is doubt, I shall sow faith.

Where there is shame, I shall point atonement. Where there is rage, I shall show its course

My word in the soul shall be as my bolter in the field."

Nothing about reason or facts. Nothing about discovery or joy.

We might as well be Orks, they too have only faith and fury, after all. It even works, their Waaghs bending reality as they rage and plunder and destroy.

Fighting each other, the Orks become stronger, and then they attack others. It is what a branch of Inquisition fosters, the so-called Istvaanian. They encourage cults and rebellions, they poison leaders and create disasters, causing untold suffering and pain.

Only men are not Orks. There are more than enough enemies, xenos and demons plaguing humanity. And these cretins create strife and misery instead of helping the Imperium.

And like them, there are so many other cliques and covenants of Inquisitors and tech-priests and Nobles and Administrators, all fighting for more power, at the expense of the people they were supposed to protect.

I swear, if any Inquisitors show up in my own Kingdom, they will not live to attempt these kinds of machinations.

And then, there is the problem of the imported tech-priests from Stygies_VIII, a Forge World widely known for heretek inventions and breaking many taboos imposed by the strict laws of the Imperium.

Sure, a host of free-thinking tech-priests will be amazingly useful and productive, until they unleash some gene-tailoring virus or data infocyte or other 'clever' invention that ruins an entire sector.

I will have to speak with them about this. And likely execute a thousand of them, just to make a point.

Luckily, I do have a starting base already, and active support from Forge Antax. The rescued Catachan regiments, from Trazyn's own collection, and the women I 'saved' from Sotha will become the basis of my gene-stock, with more and more Blank genes injected from my descendants and their descendants.

The Hive cities are rather useless in this respect, even after vaccination campaigns and the culling of the underhives, but they will provide cannon fodder for servitors and organic parts for new Machine Spirits.

An hour later, Fabricator Yridann sent me a vox call, to make myself available in the medicae ward. I am by now quite familiar with these type of Mechanicus medical wards, for some reason.

Soon, I enter the biologic ward to find Astartes Cassiel mostly dissected and disassembled, skull open while the Necron scarabs were being extracted with surgical precision, then conserved in glass jars. Not even lids on those jars. Damn common sense, Biologis Clade!

Five Magi Biologis and the Fabricator Locum all nod at me in silence.

"This is very advanced xeno technology, Lord Lancefire. Someone has kept the subject under mechanically induced mind-control, with no discernible ill-effects. Copying and reversing the nano-filaments will take centuries at least." The Magos explains in a slightly excited voice.

"I see. And if these filaments were composed of nanites, and escape from those open jars?" I ask curious, pointing at their abysmal work security protocols. No wonder the Mechanicus keeps bombing labs from orbit to stop failed experiments.

The Magi waved their metal tentacles in panic, and soon find some glass lids for the jars. They look at me like kids caught playing with scorpions, and not yet understanding the risks.

"Next time, use a sterile warded glass operating box, with remote instruments. And have an incinerator prepared to shove that box in, if demons or metallic limbs sprout from your subject. You can follow a simple contagion protocol, being the smart and logical people that you certainly are, correct?" I mused out loud, reconsidering my projections and adding a few centuries to my plans, for the inevitable catastrophic lack of common sense of the Mechanicus.

"You are a beacon of reason, Lord Pef. What else could we do for better security?" the Fabricator asks, and keeps picking scarabs with his tools, and dropping them in another jar.

"A Gellar field over each Forge section and spire, forcefield containment barriers and melta warheads buried underneath each lab. Also, datasphere firewalls and regular promethium firewalls. Blackstone armor inside and out for each lab, and a million warships in orbit, just in case we need a rapid Exterminatus for the whole planet." I continue with a gentle smile.

"Isn't this a little exaggerated?" one Magos wonders while picking a Necron scarab and keeping it way to close to his bionic eye.

"That is the minimum necessary, my dear Magos. If that Necron scarab activates suddenly, then turns and enters your eye, you could unleash a lethal virus and kill everyone on this planet in a minute. Meanwhile, your body will slowly transform into Necrodermis and you'll become a Xeno. And then I will have to kill you, and burn the planet with Exterminatus. Wouldn't that be just great?" I asked in dismay and turn around to leave.

"... We will begin implementing the minimal security protocols, Lord Lancefire. Do you want us to harvest and clone some Black Carapace, for your next power armor?" the Fabricator asks, slicing off some of Cassiel's dermal organ and holding in mid-air.

I think for a moment and approve it. Arkio's armor would become much easier to control that way.

"And best power armor for my Sisters of Silence as well. Air sealed, auspex visor and spinal Black Carapace, with trauma packs in the pauldrons and three logic shields, each based on refractor, conversion and flare templates. Plus savant and transceiver brain implants." I demanded before I exited the medical lab.

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Having my own Forge was providing some boons too, not just headaches.

Brother Delos awaited outside the lab, looking worried.

"Will Brother Cassiel be fine? They wouldn't let me inside, damn tech-priests!" the Chaplain complained in an offended voice.

Ah, that's because they let me inside the ward, but not him. Envy. Such a human emotion.

"He's perfectly fine. My Biologis Magi are the best in the entire Eastern Fringe." I said in relaxed voice. It was sadly even true, because they were the only such Magi in the Eastern Fringe.

"I will pray he makes a fast recovery. I also sent a warning astropath communique to Lord Commander Dante about that sorcerer, my Lord. Just in time it seems." he explained in a worried voice.

"Oh? That happened? Tell me." I asked a bit amused, while heading for the aircraft factory.

Sadly, it was much too close to the certainly-doomed biology lab. Orbital cleansing would burn my planes as well.

"We were lucky some of your Blank sons were inside the gene-seed reliquary. They managed to subdue the infiltrator, with only minor injuries." Delos announced and patted my shoulder in praise.

In a few minutes we entered the assembly lines, where servitors and low level tech-priests and enginseers worked on mass-producing my new army.

Pretty much every force in the galaxy had too few airplanes, which would prove my advantage. The advanced starfighters even the scary Hell_Blade made in the Eye of Terror, were produced in too small numbers. The same was true for the Imperium or the Eldar and only the Orks had cheap airplanes.

The enemy would have a hundred or a thousand starfighters, I would have a million cheap fighters. Quite possibly at the same total cost. Damn spacefighters were really expensive.

Sadly, losses would be high, due to laser weapons that took milliseconds to hit a target. Perhaps the new cheaper shields, gifted by my friendly Necron wizard, could be produced in the needed numbers.

We shall see.

The inspection took a whole week, from planes to tanks and small arms factories, to visiting the Catachans and convincing them of their new role as guardians of the Fringe, and of the defenseless women who fled the destruction of their homeworld.

I even promised them 10000 thrones prize for every 10 kids, and 40000 thrones for reaching 40 kids, which wasn't a usual gratification for a simple guardsman, even a renowned Catachan.

Somehow, the trip gained me plenty of good will, and a hundred old-era Catachan concubines willing to bind themselves to me and my clan.

Will have to thank Trazyn for his good taste, and the pleasant warm nights he gifted me.

From the Sisters, only Alana was eager to taste my body yet, but I was certain the rest will follow one day. It wasn't like they have many choices in men. Kinda hard to get close to anyone else when you were a Pariah.

A few months later, Sisters Hestia and Aleya did in fact give in to my charms and friendly demeanor and argued they might get a new Janice from our holy union. I was hoping the same thing, of course.

More medical tests and sample collection followed, fresh eggs and seed sent to Antax for more and better Blank Machine Spirits.

And then, the Conveyors and the Canticle arrived, with their own new problems.

I gathered all the Stygies high-priests in the great hall of the Mechanicus Forge, flanked by my Astartes and Silent Sisters bodyguards.

"Welcome to Forge Retribution, all of you. Now, before you get working on all those STC templates and damaged battleships, I will make things clear. You are not to conduct personal research. That's a capital crime in the Lancefire domains.

Secondly, while the rules will be a bit laxer, you will not attempt experiments on my people. No viruses or infomorphs or other mass-effect devices. You will not work on Warp technologies of any kind. Xeno research will be conducted in sealed labs on the outer moons, with melta bombs planted under those labs. You will follow quarantine protocols, and stay under Gellar fields at all times. I want to hear: Yes, Lord Lancefire!"

Grumbling Magi of all clades looked around for support. Perhaps they did want to experiment freely, outside the Imperium.

"This is not what we were promised, Lord Lancefire. We have brought many forges and servitors and rare artifacts with us, just to escape the oppression of the Imperium." a tall robed cyborg argued and many tech-priests around him supported him with voices or gestures.

"The focus of my Forge will be Warp-less technologies. Realspace ship engines, better reactors, mind-to-mind stellar range transmission, better personal weapons, better shields, cheap aircraft, cheap power armor and Blank Machine Spirits. That's for starters. Later we will begin assembling Reality Cages around my worlds, to prevent any Warp emissions from interfering with civilization, from Warp Storms to Ork Waagh fields or Tyranid Silence. I don't really care about other types of projects, nor will I fund them. Everyone who agrees, bow down and take a pledge." I shouted as hard I could.

From about 3000 tech-priests, less than half agreed. "Good enough!" I muttered, while flicking my left glove with a shiny crystal on the backhand.

The recalcitrant Magi vanished in my tesseract, leaving only the more pliable ones.

I was certain I could trade them, for something of value.

"I am certain we will have a great future together. Welcome to Retribution." I announced while passing among my new tech-priests while they looked around a bit stunned.

"Another miracle, my lord." Chaplain Delos said while watching me with glowing eyes.

I could only sigh, and hope it would be enough.