40 Thousand Reasons

By the next day, after the fighters return to the cruiser, we hold a conference to decide what to do.

It seems the Forge World is dead and deserted, nothing moving or shooting back. This could be the prize of the millennium, should we find anything intact.

The risks are proportional, as it seems the local Mechanicus Cult has split into religious factions and battled each other to death.

Gyron believes it our duty to survey and explore the remains, like any tech-priest would. The Quest for Knowledge isn't just words, but a way of life.

The Astartes is more cautious, since infected machines could still be awake deep underground, and just bait us to land...and then eat us.

The clan crew is split up, because the rewards could make each of them richer than a Noble. But only if they survive.

In the end I chose both major options. My cruiser will depart for Forge Tigrus with any minimal loot that we can grab from deep space, while a single destroyer and most of the tech-priests and servitors will be sent to the planet to start the investigation.

The other destroyers are sent back to my capital, Ilevar, to bring our transport fleet and mining barges here to carry the loot, under escort.

Compared to raw minerals from asteroids, scraped hulks made of adamantium and possibly full of rare and ancient technologies are less worthy than dirt. Mining can hold for now, since every planet in my empire has been given a small forge and its tech-priests from Metallurgicus and Technicus clades. They can search for planet-side minerals and be fine for a while.

Also, I am almost certain that Metalica's Fabricator has lied to me, since news about this internal conflict must have been known to the Mechanicus leaders.

He just didn't want to risk it himself. Plus he knew I would give everything away, hopefully the template designs already cleaned up and upgraded.

We collect a dozen different turrets and batteries, many so exotic that I can't really identify them. Perhaps gravity shear or warp or neutron beams. A few broken space fighters with odd design choices, even a few automata. Kept under quarantine and strict security, that hangar bay is locked and depressurized for transport.

I can barely wait to receive the Grand Cruiser, which will have 20 times more internal space. Volume grows fast which each elongated dimension.

Although the reactor and generators will also be bigger, the extra space will allow for 30 fighter squadrons instead of the current 3.

The same with stockpiles of torpedoes and other consumables, like missiles, bolter rounds and autocannon bullets.

And if I install a few forges, I can even replenish some consumables or spare parts...even construct armor and power armor for my troops.

Nothing like the artificier-made power armor I wear right now, but even something 10 times simpler would increase the strength and durability of my troops at least ten times.

So, on the way to Forge Tigrus I dissect more STC templates, this time aided by another tech-priest from the Cogitatrices clade, called Fabricator Minoris Yota-7099. Gyron detached him especially for me, and said the guy had a good brain and a knack for mathematics.

I am almost tempted to call him Yoda, but they are nothing alike. Minoris is 3 meters tall with a dozen pairs of mechanical arms, each holding a different obscure device that are always flashing or beeping and murmuring prayers.

Still, he is a good scientist despite all that.

We change the Manticore template to allow an enclosed box with 10 missiles to be loaded and unloaded fast on a gimbal mount, which in turn will allow field reloads with a crane or some tall automata from Mechanicus.

This also protects the missiles from any atmospheric trouble, like rain or acid gas, also arrows, bullets and other low caliber damage. A few more upgrades to the auspex sensors and I'm finished. Minoris keeps working to upgrade the targeting cogitators, something I will sell separately, if they work.

Then I load the Hydra template and upgrade it as well, even adding a hunter-killer launcher in the design. With 2 tri-barrel multi-lasers, and the krak missile launcher, my Hydras will be 50 percent better. In range, firepower and rate of fire, along with better sensors and tracks.

If I could, I would promote this simple tank as standard composition to every Imperial Guard regiment. 100 per regiment if not double.

Then again...that would mean at least 200 million such tanks...and nobody will likely make them. Still, I try.

If I don't try, the tyranids will eat everyone. They probably will anyway. I suspect all these Hive fleets are mere the advance tendrils of a much larger Tyranid Swarm.

The scouts, so to say. And if their scouts are nearly unstoppable...damn it.

What can I do? Try to direct some more Orks at these Hives? But mushrooms, even green ones, are also biomass. The Tyranids do eat Orks just as they eat anything else.

Then I do remember something. The second Warp beacon directed at Ultramar.

"Have you ever wondered why the Navigator can still chart the course, outside the Astronomicon range?" I ask, turning toward my Astartes guard.

Then I save, the file and close the screen, since a big hand holds my head in a vice.

"Careful what you say, Rogue Trader. The Emperor sees all." he growls and his good eye turns red.

I draw a deep breath, and poke his hand. After he releases me, I wave Minoris out from my lab. The Mechanicus would do something stupid once they find out the truth.

"I was talking about the Navigator, my friend. He locks on Ultramar, which shines in the Warp so strongly he can choose the right currents without error. Macragge the Ultramarines' capital, in fact." I explain in a sterner voice.

Damn Astartes and their devotion. Even a veteran lost his cool, from a mere question.

"I don't know why. Perhaps Primarch Guilliman guides them." he answers after some thought.

I shake my head. " I know why, I just asked if you do. I ask because the Tyranids too are drawn to psychic beacons. And the Ultramarines are projecting a powerful beacon. Very similar to the Astronomicon, although it doesn't need to burn a thousand psykers every day."

The Blood Angel shrugs in dismissal, rage calming down now that it doesn't have a target.

"Seems a good thing to me, if ships can travel safer through the Warp." he adds in a softer voice.

I nod and smile. "Indeed, it is very useful. Remember, the tyranids also follow this beacon. But, if I would change the light to illuminate say Charadon ? The largest Ork empire nearby. The Tyranids would change course...and the Orks will have to fight them. And then...a thousand more enemies, even demon worlds." I whisper in a secretive tone.

The marine hugs me to his armored chest, almost crushing me. "We will do this. Directing the bugs to eat the Emperor's enemies? This is even bigger than your blood possibly curing the curse, or struggling to unlock some old weapons. And as the tyranids fight, they will become weaker too, and we would have some hope to defeat them."

I cough and pound his pauldron to get set down. "Control your emotions, Astartes. This is something that might get me killed. By the Ultramarines, then everyone else trying to control the beacon." I muter in a grumble, and sit in my armchair.

Not that gaining access and control over the xeno artifact on Sotha is even feasible right now. I'd need an Inquisitor on my side.

And a large fleet to fend off Chaos or Eldar or whoever catches wind of what I'll be doing. This blasted galaxies have plenty gods, and most of them are enemies.

The friendlier ones or their worshipers might still kill me simply on principle.

However, if the Blood Angels rally behind me, maybe the Mechanicus too...then I have a small chance.

A small chance in hell.

"Look what they've made of our dream"

000000100000

Damn it. Even my implant thinks I'm doomed.