Our arrival at Lickspittle is met with much joy and relief. The mining barges are exchanged for two megatonnes of rare ores, including adamantium, putting a big smile on Eire’s face.
The station’s residents are less happy when we deploy an entire Void Assault regiment to comb through the whole station looking for more Simulacra. The locals quickly change their minds when we uncover a whole nest of the beasts and incinerate them. We also execute nine miners and an overseer who had also been replaced after checking every individual on the station.
To take the sting out of the operation, we replace their soylent viridans manufacturing with a newer, more abundant and efficient system as well as some aquaponics. We also give them a portion of the equipment for scanning for Simulacra so they can test the crews of their old mining barges when they return. This gets a promise of further trade from Lickspittle, who agree to set aside their most valuable minerals to be collected and paid for in secret at a much later date.
We also provide a single luxury meal for everyone aboard the void station. They only have about five thousand people, so it is a tiny expense for me but for most of the people on board this is likely the only time they will taste real meat, beer, and fresh vegetables in their whole lives. It does much to wipe away any discontent at having their lives disrupted by our strict and harsh searches and give the Stellar Fleet a good name.
Over a hundred people try to stow away on our shuttles but they are all caught and there is a minor riot when we leave them behind. This ends with twenty-seven executions by the station’s authorities, and is a horrible end to my attempt at generosity, one that really rams home how alien the Imperium is compared to the Stellar Fleet.
Feeling apprehensive about what we might find at Cobalt, Eire, Brigid, and I meet up with Thorfinn at a pavilion in the observation dome.
The observation dome on Iron Crane is a similar style to the one on Distant Sun only it is placed where the primary bridge would normally be, overlooking the whole ship from the second deck of the Cathedral superstructure. Iron Crane’s primary and secondary bridges are much better protected and are on the main deck. There’s also a military bridge, where the Stellar Corps and strike craft are coordinated from, in the centre of the Castellan superstructure, though it is slightly more vulnerable than the other two.
The walk to the pavilion is pleasant. The stone gardens and water features have a wonderful ambiance with their burbling fountains and careful lighting. Many of the stones are cut glass that reflect beneath the water with subtle shimmers, mimicking the stars visible through the thick armourglass of the observation dome. Without transhuman sight, it isn’t always possible to tell if the reflections on the water, or mirror like mosaics are stars or fake jewels.
I am the last to arrive. I embrace Thorfinn and Eire, and give Brigid a brief kiss. We exchange our greetings and sit. Thorfinn triggers the privacy shield and a barrier springs up around us, blurring the outside view slightly and cutting off the sounds of the stone garden.
“It’s good to finally talk to you in person, Thorfinn,” I say. “I’m sorry I couldn’t spare more than a few minutes at a time since you returned.”
“We’re here now,” says Thorfinn, “and by the Throne is it good to be back.”
“What was the Imperium like?” says Eire. “Your reports were factual, as they should be, but I really want to know what it was like for you.”
Thorfinn pours us all a large measure of amasec,“It’s a shithole.” He pushes the full glasses towards us and takes a sip of his own drink. He smiles. “Still, they have a lot of good stuff that we don’t have. The scale of everything is mind boggling. I saw three Universe-Class Mass Conveyors while we were at Footfall and they were all part of the same tithe fleet on the way to the Winterscale’s Realm. Two were twelve kilometres by one point three kilometres, and one was even bigger at fifteen by two point two. They were accompanied by Battlefleet Koronus and it had over a hundred different vessels.”
Thorfinn looks at me and continues, “You’ve always emphasised how insignificant we are and how important it is to be loyal to the Imperium. I read all the documents you provided and agreed because I trust you, but seeing it myself? All those ships fucking terrified me. They could have demanded anything and we would have had to comply.”
“It is good that you understand.”
“Yeah,” says Thorfinn, “no shit. That was just the official fleet too. Footfall had hundreds of other vessels, from dozens of factions, companies, and the like. It was incredibly overwhelming. You have a plan right?”
“I do,” I say, “but I think we’d all like to hear more about your adventures first.”
“Sure. So between Cobalt and arriving at Footfall, we first had to find the trade lanes. So many ships have passed through the Warp along particular passageways that they are unusually stable. They’re way faster and safer to travel than the routes we took to find Kinbriar, or the one we’re taking from Acheron to Cobalt.
“Along the way we visited Dolorium, and Falcon’s Fall Gamma, two raw resources worlds, and visited the SR-651 Breaking Yards. You’d like the Breaking Yards, Aldrich. It's a three and a half thousand kilometre sphere of loosely bound asteroids, dead ships, and weird gravitational anomalies. There’s a single, thirty kilometre, spindle shaped void station that orbits the yards. You can buy pretty much any ship component you like there. They also have a few empty hulls for sale as well, but no completed vessels, officially.
“There’s a rumour going around the station that there’s a fully functional cruiser somewhere in the yards that one of the syndicates is trying to flog off, though no one can agree who it is supposed to belong to, or what unusual tech it might have attached.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“That does sound like a fun place.”
There’s clearly something in my voice that has everyone looking at me.
“So we’re going back there, aren’t we,” says Thorfinn. “It has a pretty interesting history and I can tell you more about it later if you like.”
I nod, “After Cobalt, and yes, I would enjoy that.”
“Right,” says Thorfinn. “The fortress world of Bastion is nearby, but we didn’t visit it. No idea if that will impact your plans. Other rumours you might all be interested in are the supposed tech vaults on Dolorium. We did a quick scan from orbit but didn’t find anything. They’re a pastoral world. Not a proper agri world, but we did pick up some supplies there and they ordered a lot of tools from us that we need to deliver at one point as they just don’t have the expertise to make all the things they need to build new agricultural machinery.”
“What do they sell?” says Eire.
“Meat, grains, and a whole bunch of rare, slow growing medicines that flourish out in their tundra and ice caps. They have some nice furs as well. We ordered a seed bank from them. A bit of a gamble, as I’ve no idea if their flora will be useful to us with our limited space, but if nothing else it will make for a good collectors item.”
“Well, that’s something at least,” says Eire.
“It was a pretty nice place, all told. It reminded Quaani and I of Marwolv. The crew were very pleased to have a chance at a walkabout.”
“I look forward to our visit,” says Brigid. “Falcon’s Fall Gamma was next, right? Didn’t your report mention that the people from Dolorium were descended from them?”
“That’s what they believe,” says Thorfinn. “No one is completely sure though as no one can find the records. Falcon’s Fall Gamma was less great. It is incredibly rich in minerals and agricultural land. Over six different Rogue Trader dynasties claim it under their protection. No one can quite decide what to do with it as mineral extraction would interfere with turning it into an agri world, neither does any party want to give it up for another.
“There was a lot of military build up going on, but again, no one wants to be the one who starts the war as that will damage the planet and reduce its worth. We didn’t stay long, nor were we willing to get swept up in the politics, so we didn’t make any trades there either. Problem is that it’s on the major trade route that starts from Dolorium, runs to Lucien's Breath and ends at Footfall.”
“What a mess,” says Brigid. “Staying out of it was the right choice.”
Thorfinn chuckles lightly, “Always nice to be validated. So next was Lucien’s Breath. We didn’t get anything out of that either. They sell rare gases that would be great to stock up on, but they only really deal with major Rogue Traders who are friendly with House Winterscale.
“It’s not a nice place, and is filled with poorly explored xenos city ruins, and pits of frozen gases that are hacked at by millions of slaves. Quaani and I joked about bombing the place, just to put everyone out of their misery. We moved on before anyone tried to snatch our crews or void ships.”
From the look on Thorfinn’s face, I doubt it was a joke.
Eire grimaces, “From what Quaani told me one of the five major trade goods in the Imperium is people. It makes me glad that you were the one to find us, Aldrich. Marwolv would have become a very different place if a less scrupulous individual rediscovered our world.”
Brigid reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. I smile at her, then she turns back to Eire. Thorfinn looks off to the side, looking a little distressed.
“What are the other four primary goods?” says Brigid.
Eire says, “Data, rare elements, energy, and most importantly, carbon.”
“Not manufacturing?” I say.
“With the distances involved, it just isn’t practical to trade most manufactured goods,” says Eire. “Instead manufacturing is classified as a service. Exactly like what we do. Go to a location, make exactly what they ask in exchange for raw resources, usually capital goods for expanding their own capacity, then move on. Manufactured goods are also treated a bit like a currency, rather than a trade good, as it is the primary way in which most worlds pay their tithes.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” I say.
Brigid sips on her drink, then says, “Why carbon and not something vital, like water for reaction mass and its many other uses?”
“That’s to do with tithes,” says Eire. “It is a complex and contradictory issue, one driven by the classification of worlds. For example, a Hive world will be required to produce manufactured goods and people for their tithe. Because the tithes are so heavy due to corruption, errors, accidents, piracy, and other inefficiencies, many worlds have little spare capacity to focus on anything other than what is demanded of them. Investment is rare and much wealth is squandered.
“Some worlds even have high tithes that are well beyond what is practical to pay because of whom they sided with during the Horus Heresy, or other rebellions. Tithes are as much a method of control as they are a way to distribute resources around the Imperium.
“For a Hive world, this means that most of their carbon goes towards plasteel, fuels, plastics, and other goods. They don’t always have enough carbon remaining to grow the food required for their population. You’d think that they’d use the plasteel to build new mining barges and gather the required resources, but not all systems have gas giants, or the remaining resources that orbit their star would cost more to gather than they’d gain. Instead they must trade what they make with agri worlds, or hope that an agri world tithe will be assigned to them by a particularly alert and proactive high administrator.”
Brigid frowns, “So because of the tithes, their manufacturing is stagnant? They cannot expand or easily replace what is lost? That would mean all worlds rot over time, no matter what they do.”
Eire sighs, “Yes, that’s correct. It is why Rogue Traders and the Quest for Knowledge are so important. They bring new wealth and lost knowledge to the Imperium which it can then use to restore itself. Rogue Traders don’t pay tithes or tariffs as that’s like syphoning the fuel from your genetorium so you can sell it and use the bytes to pay for your energy ration. Their world’s still have to pay tithes though. It’s also another reason why manufacturing is considered a service; factory ships can go from world to world injecting capital into stagnant economies.”
“How did Quaani find all this out?” I say.
Thorfinn says, “Well, that would lead to the next part of my tale: Footfall.”
I nod, “Which is where you saw the tithe fleet and Battlefleet Koronus. You didn’t find out the underlying reason why they were out in force did you?”
“Not a clue. It was all kept very secret, not even Tanthus Moross, the head administrator of Footfall knew or admitted to what was going on. Probably because there was an Inquisitor on the station and we didn’t dare ask the question more than once.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “So what happened at Footfall?”