"I will leave you to catch up with Justine. Just...well. You'll see for yourself." the Inquisitor says and walks out.

A minute later my mother enters along with my Astartes. In a second, her eyes dart around the room and then lock to my elbows. I was trained in melee combat too, so I know a dangerous person when I see her.

"She's an Assassin, Lord Pef." he explains and hovers a hand over his Inferno pistol. He saw it as well, no doubt about it.

"Hello mother." I say softly and offer her a hug.

Justine approaches me hesitantly and stops a step away. "You've grown up. And quite a successful man, from what I hear." she comments in a colder voice.

So, that's her real self. Always on guard. Not that I blame her. Makes sense to be always cautious, when you live in Hell.

"Mostly harmless, for nearly every power in the galaxy. But I suppose I live better than a laborer in a Hive." I allow with humility.

She flinches and scowls in a painful memory. Damn it. I nailed her weak spot, with perfect accuracy.

"Your Astartes will take care of you, so I feel less worried now. And even the Mechanicus has a soft spot, in their metal hearts. Your aura is weak...but made your life easier." Justine says with a glance at Ludvaius.

"Want some wine or tea? I want to hear about your life and father." I offer and start pouring wine.

"The mission to Antax is sealed. But...I met your father and travelled on the Litany. Then I got off for another sealed mission. If you feel abandoned..." she explains and drinks the Inquisitor's tea, possibly by smell memory.

I point at her cup. "Need to watch for those habits. One day there will be something else in that tea."

Justine blinks and stares at her cup, her face going from confusion to fear and then acceptance. "I should be the one teaching you to survive. And I will...if she lets me."

"The art of war is a matter of life and death." I quote from memory.

The Astartes tilts his head curious. Probably not in the Codex.

But Justine only nods with regret. "So Gyron did teach you, like he promised. And now you have a son of the Emperor to teach you even more."

"Lord Pef is smarter than me, Lady Justine. I feel that I am the one learning from him instead." Ludvaius replies instead, pistol back in the holster. No immediate threat then.

I shrug and sip more wine. "Anyway, we'll be flying together for some time. Decades at least. We should go to the nursery and see my kids." I conclude with a smile.

No point in forcing anything, not for a long time. She will come around in time.

"Grandchildren...time does fly." mother murmurs softly as I lead the way to the nursery.

Two of the kids are Blanks as well, and don't recoil from Justine, merely watching her curious. A dozen normal kids start crying in fear.

Henna and Decima recognize Justine from my old pics. "Lady Lancefire." Decima says politely, while gesturing to the nearby void marines to quiet down the kids.

The women nod at Justine then begin hugging and kissing the scared kids, to calm their fears.

"A whole harem, and even two weak auras. They ignore my curse." Justine comments, seeming impressed.

"Come, mother. It is your best gift after all. This big guy is the one with a curse." I explain pointing at my Astartes friend with a smile.

"Blood Angel. Very easy to drive into frenzy." she muses with a knowing look. She probably has a mental database on how to kill anything.

"The soldier works out his victory in relation with his foe." I quote again, and accept another head pat from the veteran marine.

We leave the nursery before my kids are crying again. It would be hard living with a Pariah gene.

A few minutes later, we meet with the Inquisitor again, this time on the bridge.

The weasel guy is riffling through the ship logs, while my crew is almost paralyzed with fear.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Make yourself comfortable everyone. We're working together now, the Throne's Agent, his sons and his Voice. Just ignore any words they speak from now on. I'm your Captain." I demand in a loud voice and hug the Inquisitor with one hand.

She slaps my hand away and sits in the Captain chair like she owns the place. "Very cute. You're lucky I know your mother, Captain." the Inquisitor says with a tiny laugh.

The officers look at me confused and I point at Justine. "Justine. Mother. Happy family." I explain and turn away, heading back to my lab.

I have tons of work to do, and playing status games with an Inquisitor isn't high on my list.

Minoris is waiting for me with news. "Cracked the logis-engine, Lord Pef. Want to peek inside and work your magic?" he asks reverently.

Damn idiot-savant. It's not called magic. It's common sense, for Emperor's sake!

But I suppose I can take a peek. As I expected, the cogitator coding is rather buggy and cluttered by thousands of years of cants, prayers and patchwork repair.

I leave the prayers alone, because demons. But everything else should be organized into logic trees and priority targeting decisions.

I lose myself into work, with Minoris adding helpful advice every minute. Even powering up my savant implant, cogitator code is absurdly complicated.

No wonder big machines like Titans or Land Raiders can still fight even without crew. If a mere missile launcher is this complex, I shudder at what a Titan code would be.

Still, I sneakily insert a control code that needs a working Warrant to unlock. Since I plan to mass produce these missiles in my empire, I need to make sure they won't be fired at me.

Something that can pierce the side of a Baneblade would ruin my power armor, and my life.

"Captain. The Inquisitor is using the astropaths." I receive on my vox bead.

"Don't worry, Wentian. I let her sit in my chair, didn't I? Anyway, get some tech-priests to build her another chair beside mine. And some plasteel blocks for the Astartes. A few rooms and beds too, I guess." I order with a tired mind.

A bed sounds great. So tired...flesh is weak indeed.

I awake at once, as the Inquisitor teleports in my bedroom. The damned Inquisitorial_Rosette blares like an alarm clock in my soul.

"No hugs in public." she demands as she undresses then climbs in bed beside me.

Ludvaius blinks in confusion, then shrugs. I guess he has become a little jaded with my love life.

I'm too tired right now. I hug her nice body beside me and fall asleep again.

"It is a modest thing, relatively plain, adorned with a single motif and a simple motto. Yet with this little object I can sign the death warrant of an entire world and consign a billion souls to Oblivion."

1111110

I wake up with my face stuffed into a nice pair of breasts, while the woman softly caresses my head. My hair has begun growing again, since no tech-priest has drilled into my brain for some time.

"You could tell me the name that goes with these breasts." I murmur and gently suckle each of them.

"Death and Duty." she quips lifting each in turn.

"Duty. It should be much heavier." I muse softly and juggle her boob in my palm. If only duty was so easy.

"Unlike your mother, your presence doesn't hurt much, if at all. I never heard of such a mild Blank." she says climbing on top of me and starting to ride.

Well, my Blank is not a convergence of Immaterium currents that annihilate each other inside a soul. It's just a word on a screen. It works because I paid 30 points for it.

"You'll like my kids then." I say out loud and turn her over.

I wonder what kind of children would a psyker have with me?

Don't worry, we have some time to find out.

I guess I'll call her Rossete. No, too corny.

Rose.

The name of the rose. For a magic girl, it fits quite well.