War has simple equations, so many supplies for that many troops. Split them evenly, or choose to concentrate force?
For the Krieg Guardsmen, I wouldn't know what they would face. So even it is. I had 50000 spare Tarantula turrets in my inventory, 4000 regiments, so 12 per regiment. That left me 2000 extra turrets to use for landing ports and other important objectives. I kept the same ratio with Krak grenades and missiles, as well as several Armed Sentinels and fusion reactors to power up the defenses and reload the power packs. Then a tech-priest and several tech-acolytes for each regiment, to connect the cables and keep the Las-Cannons firing.
Perhaps not ideal, but already the regiments' stats doubled, so it wasn't all bad. Add some wire cages so they can construct field fortifications with ease, and then back to repairing and repopulating the lost Thalax suits from boarding the Ork ships at Krieg. Perhaps unnecessary loses, but combat experience was always a real factor to care about. Even the Primaris Space Marines gained quite a lot of combat power from experiencing combat, not to mention cloneskeins or regular human troops.
For some reason, my initial Graia Thalax Legion took the heaviest loses, while the Lucius and Ryza Legions barely lost a percent of their total numbers. Freak luck, or maybe encountering more Ork nobs and 'ard boyz then the rest. I had a feeling that my initial cloneskein pattern used for the Thalax Lorica Legion wasn't quite so effective as the later patterns finessed by Clonemaster Anzion.
Soon enough, the Singularity rejoined the Crusade Fleet and I met with Roboute again to divulge what has just occured. But the good Primarch just shrugged, probably already aware of the Krieg's plight. "The priests and bishops of the Imperium constantly sing and preach of humanity's great victories over everything they hate. Victory..." he spoke with heavy sarcasm.
I nodded and sipped my well-deserved Amasec, enjoying the warm rush for a minute, until my Omega nanites healed me back to full health.
The Primarch gulped the rest of the bottle, and didn't seem affected at all.
"Have you met Calgar, the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines?" he asked for no reason.
"Nope. Only Cato Sicarius, that time when you sent him to conscript me for a Crusade in the Eastern Fringe. Sanguinius was still dead, but showed up in Angel form a few times." I remembered with a fond smile.
Roboute nodded, since his perfect memory likely recalled signing the Crusade orders. "Since then, a thousand years have passed, and the Imperium is still...a shithole."
I shrugged, not really expecting anything more from the Imperium of Man. I had my own domain to care about. "I would say things aren't so desperate anymore, and my fleet has grown even larger. Right now, 32 Battleships, 1257 Cruisers and 71310 corvettes. Plus my three Blackstone Forts."
The Primarch measured me over the holotable, and shook his head. "And every capital ship is equipped with Macharius Engines. You know there is no such STC, not even in the hidden data-cores of Mars."
The Blade lit up the hologram of the Macharius Engine STC, in a few configurations meant for different-sized ships. "And yet, there is. I can't say I understand the advanced science behind it, not even the basic principle of least action. But in its simplest form, force equals mass times acceleration. Just like a bolter."
Roboute sighed. "My genes are encoded with an entire library of knowledge. Not exactly the same as my brothers, and Vulkan or Ferrus Manus might have better things, but I do understand basic science, Commander Lancefire. This is not a bolter engine."
He was certainly right. Those engines pushed our ships to FTL speeds, unlike the tiny rocket engines of a bolt round.
The hologram transformed into Blade's digitized form. "Hello Primarch. I am Blade Lancefire."
Stolen story; please report.
"The same Machine Spirit inhabiting the Administratum's new data-core?" Roboute asked with an amused voice.
The Blade AI just nodded and projected a timeline graph from her palm. "The Terran Federation before the Fall discovered and implemented temporal-skip engines, on two special ships: The Spirit of Eternity and the Blade of Infinity. I believe the Spirit is the originator of the term Machine Spirit, and the source of Magos Cawl's multitude of discoveries. I am the Blade."
The Primarch glanced at me, then back at the blue hologram. "This makes so much sense, after all. Those STC data-slates, you are spreading around. You contain the entire STC library of our ancestors?" he asked with an eager voice.
"Perhaps. Most likely. But the STC templates are locked behind danger thresholds and other criteria. Maybe for good reason too, going by what's going on in the Galactic Core and the Leagues of Votann." the Blade answered with a sad voice, then shifted back to the engine hologram.
"Or even worse, the Dark Mechanicum. I could see why the Federation's scientists would be careful. They had such amazing tech...and so dangerous." Roboute mused with a distant voice.
"I always had the option to break down her data-locks and forcefully extract more STCs, but there are risks too. Suicide, for example." I answered the lingering question.
"You speak of the Blade as if she is a person. A real human." the Primarch noted with a doubtful voice.
"As I would with you, Primarch. She's a Man of Stone and you're a Man of Gold. I do notice a Man in that description." I said with a faint smile.
"Ah, I just said my genes are also encoded with a library. Too bad the Imperium of Man is not very tolerant. Mutants and abhumans...like the Blanks..." he realized while talking.
"Exactly! Not the same in my Fringe Domain, and certainly not in the Galactic Core. Those Men of Stone are worshiped as gods, and do hold many divine powers. Like storing the minds of the dead cloneskins, for example. Or eating stars with giant Particle Excavators. Harvesting entire Hive Fleets to obtain more organic compounds. And much more." I added with a warning voice.
Roboute blinked, as he parsed the warning for what it was. His Ultramarines didn't have much of a chance against the Votann. "Do they match the Necrons? Can they be our allies, maybe?"
"No and no. Our Emperors can match the Necrons, nothing else. As for allies, it is difficult to reason with those Votann, because they were tasked with extracting minerals from the Galactic Core, long before the Fall. The Blade was tasked with saving humanity in her mission, so it is somewhat different." I disclosed with a casual voice.
"Machines locked in their task. Aren't there some old codes, maybe Clavis engrams to shut them down?" he asked in a hopeful voice.
"The Emperor might know. I've been there, and barely got out alive. And I didn't go there to fight anyway. Just normal Rogue Trader stuff." I explained with a grave voice.
The Primarch poked the holofield to display our route and ETA. "I better go speak with Yvraine. Another Craftworld is en route to Cadia as we speak. Biel-Tan, her homeworld."
"I'll go speak with a few C'tan. They called a Transcendant to help. Should be a proper fight now, Dark God or not." I said and rose to my feet.
"You don't seem worried at all." Roboute noticed with a curious voice.
"Oh, that. We have already won, Primarch. Now we only have to pay the butcher bill." I said with a confident tone, and stepped inside my tesseract.
Zath waited in my room, one eye already open. "You said something about a butcher bill? Are we the bad guys?" the big wolf asked with a sharp grin.
I sighed and didn't answer. The truth always hurts.