The heroic twin Crusade of Hydraphur had once more decimated my troops, in the true meaning of the word, as in losing 10% of my units.
Sure, there was also the fact that most of the majority of my human units consisted of infantry, Sentinels, and Tarantula turrets, which were never going to become able to withstand Great Daemons and similar kinds of damage.
Even a Titan could be felled by a Great Daemon most of times, thus a simple Auxilia trooper with a meager carapace plate covered with Blackstone or Tyranid shell stood no chance at all.
On the other hand, I could and did requisition anything of value from this Forge World, including all their Sentinels, flak batteries and non-essential Lasguns and missiles. I had a feeling I would need them for the next part.
My artillery regiments benefited too, as my brain discovered I could in fact add another gun barrel to the first one installed on Basilisks, and thus send out both a high-explosive shell and a second later an incendiary round to burn away the shell-shocked wounded or crippled enemies.
The new Sentinels I received from Hydraphur will get a similar upgrade, but on their back, carrying a twin mortar shooting HE and Incendiary bombs.
I had just enough old models of Sentinels to form a mortar company for each infantry regiment, adding some 10% extra firepower in total.
And while Spartan proposed to use a twin-feed heavy bolter with armor-piercing and HE bolts firing sequentially, I nixed that. Armor-piercing bolts were enough for now.
The fleet also received a few minor upgrades, like a railgun battery for my escort corvettes to make them less useless after expending their torpedoes, a hundred squadrons of space fighters receiving the new Las-beamers instead of Las-cannons and some extra plating with Tiamat carapace armor.
Luckily, the Tyranid carapace was only bone, and thus much lighter than metal or Blackstone. Just as the Eldar discovered, bone was light, and thus fighters were faster and more maneuverable.
The same improvement was noticed for my Primaris Marines, when discarding the heavy stone armor for equally resilient Tiamat bone armor, but 20 times lighter.
Especially the Primaris scouts, while wearing Tiamat Terminators could now move and react with amazing speed, returning them to their primary role of sneaky fast scouts, and amazing Space Hulk sweepers.
We will still use Blackstone for units without Warp protection, but for everyone else with Blank genes? We had a leg up on the opposition now.
Among the Death Korps of Krieg, five infantry regiments were selected to wear full Tiamat carapace armor and serve as shock troopers for the rest, while 10000 crippled Kriegers were converted into willing Thalax pilots to die for the Emperor again, but harder. They were actually grateful for the surgery, for some strange reason.
Win-win, as the new Kriegers were still upgraded cloneskeins with expanded reflexes, durability and lifespan. They could serve for centuries in constant combat, or millennia if stored in stasis properly.
The Fabricator of Hydraphur was leaking oil when he received a thousand new Thalax suits for his defense, then muttered in despair at the amount of work I gave him in return.
A million Ares corvettes and a thousand Nova cruisers was a tall order, even with enough metal supplies to cover twice this number.
"Rejoice, Fabricator! When this ship order is finished the Omnissiah will return to us, and the Great Crusade will resume again. I found five Primarchs already, and while Ferrus Manus is dead, I know how to revive him. And you have received a great boon of knowledge already, didn't you?" I said in a gentle voice, then pointed at his central cogitator filled with ancient and new STCs worth 10 times the ship order.
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"That is correct//true//exciting Lord Lancefire. Are you actually heading out to the Halo Stars now?" the Fabricator asked a bit too curious.
"Well, I think it will be a round tour of the galaxy eventually. I covered the east and south already, now it's the west and the north. Who knows, maybe more Chaos invasions or Tyranid fleets will cross my path, right?" I asked rhetorically.
"Ah, if I was five thousand years younger, I would actually join your Crusade in person. I believe you will find even more STCs in your travels, for the glory of Omnissiah and the Quest for Knowledge." the Fabricator proclaimed in a grave voice, then hugged me tight with a dozen metallic arms.
"No robo...I mean, I prefer pretty flesh women in my arms. I also have a duty to procreate and make more Blank Astartes. Emperor given, actually." I grunted and struggled to get away, from the incensed and oily embrace.
"We know all about your holy duty, Lord Lancefire. Your daughter Janice has visited us too, carrying a large host of Silent Sisters for your task. And a host of Adeptus Custodes as a guarantee. You met some of them already." The Fabricator said in a strange voice, perhaps disbelief or reluctance to let go.
"What else?" I asked politely, since I didn't want to use force on a new friend.
"The Brotherhood. Did they really kill Vulkan?" he asked in a low voice.
Uh. Did I say anything about the Cabal to him? Not that I recalled.
"Kill is not the right word, Fabricator. Drained his Motive Force. That's it. The body is mostly intact, and his genes can still produce new Astartes." I explained a bit wary.
"I see//understand//know what you mean, Lord Lancefire. If there's a body, there is a chance. Vulkan's creations have always amazed me for their artifice and elegance. Sometimes even better than the work of the ancients, and definitely more artful. Much like the Custodes themselves, right?" the Fabricator asked me with a knowing voice.
"There is an old Terran proverb, Fabricator. One should never meet his idols, for they are never what we think they were. Vulkan would insult you to your face and call you a simpleton and a bigot, for he never minced words and spoke from the heart. And someone from the Golden Age would pity you for your lack of knowledge and rigid preconceptions, and they would be right as well. It took creativity and invention to create the wonders of old, but the Machine Cult murders those like that as hereteks now. Sometimes rightfully so, when they mess with the Warp and daemons, sometimes not." I said and drew back, staying close to the copper-lined door of his study.
"You disapprove of the Cult? I thought you were our greatest supporter." the Fabricator muttered and spread some incense around.
"Oh, but I am. I saved a hundred Forge Worlds already, and will save them again and again. But, while we struggle in the decay and misery left by the Machine revolt, other enemies of humanity grow and invent new machines and weapons that will surpass us soon, like the Tau. And less said about the Necrons, the better. They are so far ahead of us, that a single deranged cryptek with 1% of his mental functions knows more about technology than all of humanity combined. And with that wise advice, I'm gone!" I spoke in a sad voice, then transported myself on the Black Lament and the fragile safety of a moon-sized battlestation.
I needed many more Astartes, Blank Primaris ones. Which meant I had to break through my limits and impregnate many more women. Also collect whatever Blank communities I could find, and safeguard them in the Fringe.
As my Crusade fleet departed Hydraphur, I realized what the Fabricator meant about Vulkan. He was far smarter than I thought, despite his prejudice. I was just too proud to say it.
So I entered his dimensional storage inside the tesseract, took out my Phase blade and chopped off his upper body including head, neck and one arm.
Then kicked his head away, out of the tesseract, and just watched as his body grew right back, including an intact heart and everything else.
Fucking Perpetuals! They were indeed hard to kill.
When Vulkan opened his eyes, he found Spartan, M and A, his own clones staring back at him.
"I must have died and gone to Hell." Vulkan muttered as he took stock of his surroundings.
"You were impaled with a Fulgurite weapon. Probably by the Cabal, or the Inquisition, maybe the Cult Mechanicus. Your corpse is right there." Spartan spoke with a casual voice, pointing at his stasis coffin holding the headless body with a crystallized lightning inside his dead heart.
"On the other hand, I brought the Emperor back to life as well, and several of your brothers. And cloned you a few times too. They are smart, but weaker than you." I added from the sidelines, while sipping my amasec and feeling quite content.
"I need a drink. And a hug!" Vulkan demanded in a loud voice, and took two steps to sweep me off my feet into a hug, almost crushing my Terminator armor with his absurd strength.
"Let go, you brute..." I argued a bit weak. Meeting your idols was just as weird as the proverb said.