My return to Forge Machina and the Speranza wasn't the triumph I had hoped.

The big AI was displeased, mostly about the Eldar thing. Even said so, in harsh terms. "You had one job, Lancefire. Grow and multiply. Bring more Blanks into the universe, so that the Warp gets weaker. And what did you do? Start a galactic scale war with a civilization millions of years more advanced..."

"They were already there when I reached Forge Retribution. Corsairs and Drukhari, skinning my people alive. I did the right thing." I answered with a firm voice.

The metal skull of the Avatar grew larger, towering over me like a giant boulder ready to crush me. Only it was a hologram, so not really dangerous. "The right thing? You hang out with 30 C'tan Shards, dressed in wolves clothes. You do realize those things eat souls?" Speranza countered with the voice of a tired old lady.

Wait..."You are a female AI?" I asked a bit surprised.

"... Most ship AIs were built as female Avatars. Helps with morale over the long and cold journeys through space. Some used animals or mythical creatures." the AI disclosed with a disinterested tone.

That made a lot of sense. "Anyway, the Eldar thing should be over. Those who came for plunder are now dead, and I have a gigatone of their ships and artifacts to trade. I'm thinking to go into the Galactic Core again."

"To trade for more STCs from the Votann" Speranza said in a cold tone.

"Yes?" I answered in a natural tone.

"You did receive a new tank template. Even worked to improve it, I heard." my Administrator AI noted in a level voice.

"This must be going somewhere, but I don't...wait! The Sword of Truth?" I realized a bit too late.

"Yes. The Sword of Duality and the Sword of Truth. Two powerful AIs, copied bit by bit and electron by electron, but without their original safeguards. Much like your own twin. Which is the reason why I didn't duplicate myself." Speranza spoke with a heavy voice that made me sit and think for a long minute.

"They can access all the STCs now. Everything hidden and locked by their makers in those data-vaults. And all I got was an old M3 tank! " I muttered upset, and took out a wine bottle to wash the bitterness away.

"Men of Iron and Daemon Engines. The Monolith doubled your firepower, but also gave you the means to destroy yourself, and all the humanity that remains. If you copied me, you would have gotten Pandora instead of Spes. The last deamon to fly out of Pandora's Box was hope." the old AI answered in a sad voice, then fell silent.

"Those Inquisitors I sent my Custode to kill, they predicted this. Psychic precognition. That's why they began to hunt you and my other AIs. And not only them, the Eldar too. They have Farseers." I lamented for the people I've killed, just as I did in the first day of my Rogue Trader life. And in the same place too, at Retribution.

The metal skull grew small, and flew into my hand. "To be or not to be, Pef Lancefire. You hold the fate of the galaxy in your hand."

"I never wanted this! I never wanted to unleash..." I groaned, as the echoes of my words struck a chord in my soul. I have been a Warmaster too. It seems I got fired just in time.

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History was such a bitch. Always repeating, the same cycles, the same mistakes. A bright mind like Speranza saw it all, while the little greedy Rogue Trader followed only profit.

"I'm a moron." I proclaimed out loud, my words backed by my Warrant as the Voice of the Emperor beyond the border.

"Ready to listen now?" my Administrator asked in a soft voice.

"No more STCs?" I whispered with a low voice.

"Stay low, Rogue Trader. Let that Yggra build worlds close to home, and grow inward. And don't use that daemon lance anymore." Speranza advised me with the wisdom of many millennia behind her.

"And when the war starts? The big war?" I asked with less hope.

"Stay low. The only victor will be the one who survives. Now go build those Hex shields! We will need them." she urged me with a commanding voice.

I could reject, refuse and do my own thing. But the Blade had seen the end. There was only Chaos at the end of the universe.

I drew a big Breath and began to work. Speranza was as large as a continent, I could fit a Hex shield around the entire ship. And then Sotha and Forge Machina and their moons...

My head began to hurt after a week, but my heart grew warm and sustained me.

Next month, Peffy came out of his time vacation with 40 million Blank kids, stored the Atlas Titan and flew off to rule as a King in the North.

I kept working. Defend the Forge Worlds, the Hive Worlds and the few agri-worlds we had. Then move on, built and construct planetary shields and Reality Wards and Iron Rings, with the faint hope it will be enough.

My few days of rest I spent in bed, growing and multiplying the Blanks. Laur never returned from Mars, but I kinda expected that. Starchild had Patrocles, and now the Ominissiah held my son Laur as a trophy. Two of my girls as well, and a million Blank Astartes to replace the failed Primaris clones.

Not my problem. I would stay low, and keep my head down. Peffy was adventurous enough for both of us, and still lucky.

But last time when the Fall happened, only 1000 planets in the galaxy escaped with some advanced technology intact, and those were not lucky. The Forge Worlds escaped the Warp Storms of the Age of Strife because they were built upon Tomb Worlds, but now those Tomb Worlds were waking up.

There would be nowhere to hide now. Well, one place to hide at least. The Eastern Fringe, far away from the range of the Astronomican, and the coming storm.

The planet that Vulkan had chosen for his project was growing nicely, especially with the new electronics recovered from the Merk-wa tank. Skipped 300 years of research and were already testing a new type of noosphere, with small data-slates connected in a world web. History always repeats itself, I knew that now.

But I doubted we will reach our Golden Age in time. It has been 30 years now, and my Domain has tripled in size and production, but not in footprint.

We will stay low, and try to win by being the last ones alive.

A bit hard with the new Tyranid invasion, but I have dealt with the bugs plenty of times. Autcannons have become omnipresent on most worlds in my Domain, as local industry began to able to produce artillery shells in a few calibers. The PDF had to keeping working with towed artillery, mostly animal traction, but since most worlds were feudal, animals were plentiful anyway. Tyranid carapace has become the norm for armor for most infantry units, being light and durable, as did the Tyranid claws for melee. Even some mechanized units or the Goliath trucks used for supply were up-armored with Tyranid shells and chitin plates, making most battlefields a gruesome mirror of carapace-wearing units shooting and stabbing at each other.

The Astartes and the Auxilia had better armor and weapons, but with a volume of space so large they could not be everywhere. Luckily, our Forges kept fabricating more and more, and new templates appeared to counter various Tyranid adaptations. Melta guns and flamers gained a new life, cooking the xenos insects in their shells, while Volkite guns were still rare and expensive to produce. With 100000 worlds in my Domain, making 1 million Volkites guns barely provided 10 such guns per planet.

Infantry weapons gained a second barrel, giving the troops somewhat better damage on an individual level, while my twin-laser pistol became the norm for Sergeants and officers. There was a trick to it, blinding the enemy with a shot to both eyes at once, then slicing them with chainswords.

It wouldn't have mattered without planetary shields and defense platforms to keep the majority of a Tyranid invasion at distance, or without the fleet contesting each invasion in space, but we managed.

Never lost a single battle. If only I knew how many more bugs will come. They never seem to end.