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40 Thousand Reasons
Option B - Chapter 104

Option B - Chapter 104

While Immaterium currents may prevent most ships from travelling around Sotha, after yet another beacon shift, my Icarus carrier doesn't use the Warp.

Takes us 3 days to arrive at Forge Retribution, and immediately begin a hundred new research programs on some Tau artifacts, even using Tau prisoners to speed up the translation problems.

Same thing for Dark Eldar artifacts and prisoners, of which I do have way too many. Practically their entire war fleet and command structure is in my pocket, and we are not restricted by any Geneva Convention on interrogation procedures.

Eldar Corsairs and some of their artifacts get then same treatment, to the extreme joy of the imported tech-priests with a love to study xeno artifacts and biology.

Well, for deep analysis we are building research outposts far in asteroid belt, with my minimal security protocols, designed to prevent a plague or rogue experiment ruin my new and pretty Forge.

The various Orkish adaptations of Necron and Eldar weaponry get a different moon for large scale experiments, as these improvised weapons tend to explode in the hand of the user as much as blowing up an enemy.

By the next year, the poor moon has a hundred new craters, and gets named the Mythbuster Moon.

Everyone seems to agree to my suggestion, especially the pirates converted into servitors doing the testing. They might wish to die sooner, and escape the torment of their new existence, so I don't really trust them being completely sincere.

There are also a thousand Lamenter tech-marines with Red Scorpion gene-seeds, getting schooling and training from the Forge Angstrom specialists, although I don't intend to stop at one thousand. Tech-marines do not count as Battle-Brothers and do not receive full organ implantation, especially not the acid spit glands. Sure, two hearts or Black Carapace along the spine and arms will make them use even light power armor with excellent control, but mind impulse units are even more important.

They will pilot spaceships, dropships, fighters, bombers and gunships, as well as tanks and APCs or walkers.

And speaking of ships, 10 destroyers arrive in the system empty of crew during this year, and are all rapidly converted into the Los Angeles-pattern, as my Blank daughters have finished officer school and are begging me for a command.

Sure we do have plenty fast cutters or transport ships, already busy transporting minerals or wood or promethium and coal to our Forge, or to Forge Antax.

But as it happens, there is another Forge World somewhat close, called Henscuetl B, in the Pandraxx_Subsector, and we have struck a good deal with them for Armed Sentinels and plasma torpedoes, which we cannot make yet.

Those torpedo destroyers now escort slow transport ships filled with our valuable exports, and return with various consumable goods like clothes, or pict or vox casters, and also lasguns, chainsaws and krak missiles as well, plus immigrants and servitors from the Hive World Fulcrum, in that same system.

A few trading routes went great, until a Chaos Space Marine Chapter called Angels_of_Pain attacks that system in force, despite resistance from the local Astartes.

Sure, my daughters immediately rushed to help. Destroying a Chaos battlecruiser and 2 strike cruisers before running out of torpedoes, and retreating, but I was also on the way with the Icarus and the Tranquility, as soon as I heard.

Five days later, we arrived in the system to find the Red_Scimitars struggling to defend a big space station called Trantation. Almost instantly, the Chaos ships began drifting, as their entire crew was quickly vanished into my labyrinth, then ejected into the sun.

Cultists and corrupted Marines were not my favorite, and I wouldn't risk my precious collection to some Warp infection.

Then we launch the corvettes and blow all their ships up, erasing all evidence of cheating. The Blood Angels teleport on the station to help clean up the remaining opposition, while my corvettes are already pushing the Chaos infested hulls toward the sun. The poor locals are rather terrified and many of them mutated or infected by Chaos sorcerers, while human limbs and heads are hanged on spikes and nails, in a macabre presentation.

So I make sure to return the favor with krak grenades detonated at those bastards armor joints, leaving many traitors crawling on mangled stumps, until the Blood Angels arrive the end their misery.

It doesn't take long to get invited at a pleasant meeting with the Fabricator Dominus of this Forge and with the Chapter Master of the Red Scimitars.

It seems I did get a bit famous around the Eastern Fringe, and even my wolf is famous. Well, he is a wolf that can understand words spoken or written, so maybe that's why.

His descendants with normal she-wolves did not inherit the best traits, especially his size, although they are smart and have acute senses. But then all wolves are like that, I think.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Maybe I should test the chronophage blade if it works on wolves? The Immortal wolf, huh?

"Lord Lancefire, you are smiling creepily." the Fabricator says as I just stare at the cogitator screen, lost in thought.

"Ah, that. Brain implant, sometimes I get lost in thought. So, you like the corvettes, I would say?" I wonder out loud.

"Not overly much, but we could invest some resources to produce a thousand such ships for better system coverage. If only we could have salvaged that adamantium from the traitor ships..." the Fabricator complains in a familiar manner.

"Demons in the walls, Fabricator. Not worth it, trust me! What about the Planetary Gellar Field, for the Hive World Fulcrum? It should reduce chances of Warp incursions, maybe even stop psykers acting up." I advise him, gently.

"It is an amazing STC discovery, I admit. Not overly complicated either, especially the one buried in the planet mantle for geomagnetic energy. However, I believe it will interfere with Warp capable ships. We will need to test it on a distant moon, and a whole range of spaceships and Warp engines."

the Magos says in a rational voice, and he is perhaps right. Haven't considered this, til now.

"I do prefer travelling with the warp-less engines. It is a bit more expensive to obtain a large hull like a galleon or conveyor, but after that...it only takes water or even ice to travel among stars. Our Navigator is the most relaxed member of the crew." I explain in tiny snort.

"I would think it so. Perhaps one day, my Forge will have a behemoth ship like that too." he allows in a pitiful voice. As it happens, I do have a big ship in my pocket.

"Well...I do know the location of an abandoned Ork Terror ship. Large enough to fit a battleship scale warp-less engine. I mean, my clan conquered that Ork planet, and that ship was just left derelict in the void. Stupid Orks, right?" I offer in a wide smile. Nobody doubts Ork stupidity, so the gambit works.

More wine gets poured without asking. "A xeno ship?" he asks in worried voice.

"Well, I suppose it has been a human commercial galleon once, millennia ago. The engine placement is the only thing left to identify it after." I muse out loud.

"Really, then it not a problem at all! And I expect is plated with a megatonne of adamantium and plasteel, right?" the Fabricator asks rubbing a few tentacles.

I just nod kindly. "And a thousand Orkish weapons of any kind imaginable, plus some really outside any imagination. My tech-priests were horrified, but then I am a son of the Emperor, so what do I care?" I reply in a careless voice.

"We should really tow that derelict here, for safekeeping. My Forge will compensate you on delivery." the tech-priest promises in a solemn voice.

"Can you repair my Tranquility battleship? Also mount a Nova Cannon and 200 lance batteries on the broadsides? We can provide more adamantium hulls and even some Dark Eldar captured machines." I ask in a curious voice.

The Fabricator nods with confidence. "It would be an honor to restore that Apocalypse-class to full strength. Even if the Tranquility was modified with torpedo cells, like those system corvettes."

"Projected timeline?" I ask with some worry.

"Depends on mineral supplies. Maybe 20 years, maybe 50. It will never be new, but without traveling into the Warp, I suppose it will have an excellent service from now on. But 200 lance batteries, is that even feasible?" he asks in worry.

"The Macharius-pattern reactor is three times stronger, so it can supply enough energy for more lances. I was also thinking a couple of thrusters on the side, for faster turning. Like two horns, or an ancient bicycle steering handle. I saw something like this on various fortress-monasteries." I propose with an ignorant shrug, and produce a childish model on a commercial dataslate.

It does have everything I want, just made in crayon, so to speak.

Three teleportarium, three Gellar field generators, ten landing hangars for assault dropships. Three vertical torpedo cells of 100 warheads each, probably sufficient to blow up a Necron Tomb Ship in one salvo. Or at least cripple it badly.

Then five Void Shields, an Ion Shield and a Flare shield of battleship strength, which should slow down railgun or macrocannon shells, plus block fighter or bomber ordnance like missiles and bombs.

I could take on a Gloriana-class battleship in fair fight with such a beast, and I will probably need to.

Those extra maneuver engines will provide extra acceleration, or you turn one engine off, to change direction 20 percent faster.

"It's doable, I suppose. But we will name it Apocalypse B-pattern for my Forge's prestige. I have no doubt you will lead it in many glorious battles once it is finished." The Fabricator replied after a long minute.

I smiled genially and held out my hand. "You can be certain of this, Magos. I have never lost a battle."

The tech-priest laughed in a mechanical tone, probably a recording from his biologic years. "It only takes once, Pef Lancefire. But maybe you're lucky, or the Omnissiah has plans for you."

He was right though. With battles, you only needed to lose once.