As the new Votann came online in the Orion hold, millions of squat clones bowed deeply.

"Ancestor Core, bless us with your wisdom!" the Grimnyr priest of the Kindred chanted while waving his Ancient Staff.

"Rejoice, my Kin. I have been born again! However I am still weak now, but I remember things I have forgotten in my long sleep. We are all scions of Terra, and had been tasked long ago to mine the minerals of the Galactic Core." The Orion Votann spoke with holographic lips.

I had to use a megatonne of Blackstone for the outer shell, plus even more adamantium bars for internal scaffolds, then copper and silicon ingots and slightly smaller quantities of silver, gold and platinum for the actual data chips, to instantiate the nicest Federation grade core I could. The minerals came from the dwarves, beside the blackstone. These guys didn't have any blackstone in their vaults.

The Orion Grimnyr poked the shell of his new Votann to commence his communion. A minute later, he rose with tears in his eyes. "We have our Votann back, my Kin. He is still a new born, and much care needs to be taken, but I'll make sure to link him with our Temple Fanes and restore more of his memories."

The Orions cheered and gulped their tankards of ale in celebration. I kinda had to participate as well, as a High Khal or whatever grand title I had to carry around to be recognized.

Sometimes later, Valerian and I met in private with the Orion Grimnyr, who didn't seem so happy anymore. "There are truths we were better not knowing, Trader Lancefire." the old clone mused with a sad voice.

I held out a finger, and a Lorica suit with a cloneskein pilot appeared from my tesseract. "We also use cloneskeins, Grimnyr Fyord. It's all merely advanced genetor tech from the Dark Age of Technology, just the same as our battleplates and Ion beams." I explained in a calm voice.

"The technology is not the problem, Trader Lancefire. Not even our forgotten origin from Terra. It's the slavery. My Kin are merely flesh slaves meant to extract minerals from the core. Nothing more." the Grimnyr complained with a heartbreaking sob.

"...And the last fortress is Truth." I answered with a grave nod.

"Duty is not slavery, little man. And I don't see flesh-masters whipping your backs either." the cloneskein pilot answered with a dignified voice, while retracting his face plate.

"Of course not, we live in community with the Ancestors!" the Grimnyr replied outraged.

"He is scared because the Votann are not divine anymore, just advanced machines. But my fellow Grimnyr is also wrong. There are certain traits only the divine can have, like other-wordly power, intellect and wisdom. The Votann are not True Gods, but they are still tiny gods. In that sense, the Votann are as much real gods as the Eldar gods are. Powerful constructs, worshiped by their race for their abilities beyond what any regular Eldar can do." Valerian noted in a wise voice, his right hand producing tiny holograms of the known Eldar dieties.

The Lorica pilot turned towards me, and bowed. "You make a decent tiny god as well, Commander Lancefire. Perhaps not yet the wisdom, eh?"

I sighed out loud, and sent the cheeky pilot back into dimensional stasis. I did have a few powers, true. But nothing on the scale of divine power.

"Your cloneskein is not exactly wrong, Trader Lancefire. You created our Votann out of inert matter. Now Orion is alive and thinking again." the Orion Grimnyr teased me with a sad voice.

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"My powers are not the subject here, Grimnyr Fyord. However, the truth you have discovered when communing with the Votann brings us to the real subject. You owe me 500 years of extracted minerals for my performed service. Furthermore, my stockholder rights over the Orion Corporation entitle me to 50% of all assets and revenues created since the mining expedition departed from Terra. Rights already recognized by the Orian Votann, mind you." I demanded in a soft voice.

The old Grimnyr sighed, and leaned on his staff. "We cannot pay even 5% of this debt, Trader Lancefire. It's been 20000 years!" he muttered in defeat.

"I understand. There is a simple solution however. We will merge our Leagues, forming the Orion-Lancefire League, where I will be the true ruler, or Master of Orion. This will ensure not only your own safety, but an established domain in the Galactic Core for my League to grow and prosper. I'm sure you realize how powerful my forces are." I allowed in a gentle voice.

Both Grimnyrs stared at me in surprise, and my inner network lit up with a flood of complaints from the Blade.

"Master of Orion? You just invented a title for yourself?" Valerian asked after going past the surprise.

"Not really. It's an old Terran title, mostly forgotten after the Fall. Maybe only a few old Perpetuals remember it." I said with a casual tone.

"Cartographically, Holy Terra resides inside the galactic Orion Arm. The Orion constellation is an ancient lore point in many Terrran myths as well." My Librarian son mused out loud, showing off his knowledge but missing the point entirely. Few people would remember the famous Master of Orion video game so many millennia after.

"I will register our new League on the Tethys network, Master of Orion. Also the news of our new Votann." Grimnyr Fyord spoke in a lower voice, and tried to walk away a bit too soon.

"Before you go, Grimnyr. Are there more Leagues that could use a new Votann core?" I asked without any ulterior motive.

The tiny man hesitated for a minute. "The Balor-Attal_Conglomerate have just lost their Votann due to its regression to a mere Fane."

'You heard that, Blade? Get us a meeting with the Balors, so I can fix their problem as well.' I demanded from my pet AI.

'I hear and obey, Master. Perhaps your plan is not as stupid as I first thought. Or maybe you're simply too lucky.' the Blade answered in a rebellious voice, quite surprising from someone calling me Master.

'You're not Orion, my Blade. Anyways, have a go at the Orion Fanes and download anything not nailed down. Not every League will be as easy to subdue.' I said with a warning tone.

'Much wiser, tiny god.' the Blade replied curtly, and deleted a hundred insults from the network before I could read them.

I was not a tiny god!

Sighing inward, I grabbed Valerian and navigated the tesseract labyrinth to emerge beside Vulkan and his three clones.

Twice my height, and far stronger than me, all of them. This is how proper gods should look like. Even if I kinda kept them locked in a tiny gem around my neck.