40 Thousand Reasons

Chapter 144: Treason

The cadet seminary hall was packed full today as the greatest hero of the Fringe, meaning me, was sharing a few lessons with the aspiring officers.

But first, I flicked a throne coin right at Valerian's ear, waking him up from his psyker trance. Valerian might be Finona's son, but not even he was exempt from being respectful.

"Now that we are all paying attention. Direct your eyes above my head. Tell me what you see. You!" I demanded pointing at a teenage girl enrolled for piloting classes.

"... It's the Aquila, Lord Lancefire. The symbol of the Imperium and the Imperial Creed." she answered a bit timidly, seeing the brass ornament but ignoring its meaning, just like nearly everyone.

"Excellent answer, cadet! But wrong. You!" I exclaimed and pointed at another girl. A daughter of mine named Ramona, blonde and pretty as an angel.

"It is the symbol of the Imperium, Lord Lancefire. The Imperial Creed also uses it." Ramona muttered a bit confused.

"Good. There is a great distinction here. If there was just an eagle, it wouldn't matter at all. But this Aquila has two heads. Why?" I asked pointing at another cadet.

The young man, glanced at the eagle and frowned. "It is how the Imperium was formed, sir. The Emperor and the techpriests from Mars, joining together to start the Great Crusade."

I nodded in agreement. "So this Imperial Creed worships Mars and the Emperor then? You!" I asked another cadet.

"No, Sir. Only the Emperor." the asian-looking boy answered calmly and patted his chest where the same Aquila was stamped.

I sighed inward and gestured at the holoscreen behind me.

"You all better remember this clearly. The Imperium is the Emperor and the Forge. Other Imperial institutions that formed afterwards, like the Ecclesiarchy and even the Inquisition, are not meant to be part of the Imperium. Not the Adeptas Sororitas, nor the Officio Assassinorum and the many Imperial Dealth Cults. Those are all vultures, praying on the citizens of the Imperium. Questions?" I asked in a loud voice.

"My lord, the techpriests are heretics! And while the Creed indeed formed after the God-Emperor laid down on the Golden Throne, it is fundamentally important for the salvation of the human race!" A devout believer yelled at me holding his Aquila as a shield.

"Faith is important. Again, a big distinction here, cadet. We know the Emperor protects, and safeguards our souls in the afterlife. Now, does humanity need bishops and cathedrals to be saved? I personally don't need anyone to tell me what to believe, because the blood of Sanguinius flows through my veins. Four times in my life, an Angel sent by the Emperor came to my aid. But perhaps for those with weak souls, and feeble faith, they do need to be led into prayer by a bishop. It is also the only reason I even allow cathedrals and Sisters in my Dynasty. I also allow techpriests. Why?" I asked pointing at Valerian.

"They make ships and tanks. Why else?" Valerian muttered in disgust.

"You say that, and seem displeased, cadet. Are you saying the Emperor was in error to sign the Olympus treaty? What other errors in our Emperor's conduct would you like to point out for your fellow cadets?" I asked rhetorically.

A thousand eyes stared accusingly at the poor boy, although they shared his views even so.

"You!" I demanded pointing at another cadet.

"The Emperor surely had good reasons, sir. But it was possibly a temporary measure, until the galaxy was united..." the boy claimed in a doubtful voice.

"Of course. What other temporary measures then? The Astronomican? The Adeptus Astartes? The Silent Sisters? Shall we just destroy everything the Emperor did, and claim it was merely a temporary measure? Already the High Lords of Terra have exiled the Silent Sisters from the Imperial Palace. Let's turn off the Astronomican next. Correct?" I wondered with a wry voice.

A single month of losing the light of the Astronomican would paralyze the Imperium. Turning it off would be a deathblow.

They all knew it, even here in the Fringe.

I had already pointed the beacon of the Pharos at Pythos, while preparing the ground for the next fight. A couple of Tyranid Hive Fleets and Ork Waaghs would cover my own agenda quite nicely.

"No, Sir. And we are also not in the Imperium, not until you decide to create a new Imperial Sector." the cadet answered with a lower voice.

"I like things as they are now, cadet. With my Warrant of Trade, I speak with the Emperor's Voice. Because of that, my words are the law here in the Lancefire domain, and our worlds are not crawling with cultists and criminal gangs like in the Imperium. You will all soon pilot shuttles or starfighters or even become Captains. And when you do, and are sent to trade in the Imperium, you will see the squalor of those worlds. You will beg me to never allow our worlds to join the putrid corruption that is the Imperium right now. Back to techpriests. You!" I pointed at another cadet.

"...Errr. They worship the Machine God and believe the Emperor is their Omnissiah. Don't know much more, Sir." the girl replied anxiously.

"Correct. Now...to understand the Forge and the techpriests would take decades of study. But I'll give you a short history. Back in the Age of Strife, the advanced human worlds in the galaxy found themselves isolated by Warp Storms, attacked by millions of rogue psykers and demons, while the machines they were used to became savage beasts, shredding the people with metal claws and laser eyes. Very few civilized worlds survived at all, and those became Forge Worlds. There was a motive these worlds survived and not the rest. Those engineers and technicians overseeing the machines learned the operating manuals and the repair protocols by rote, and repeated them to their descendants. In five thousand years, those lessons became prayers and machine canticles, but they also kept the machines working. Adding oils and incense to the rituals helped keep demons away, and thus they survived. And then one day, the Warp Storms cleared and only the Eye of Terror remained, a gateway into the Immaterium and the horrors beyond." I narrated while images scrolled on the holoscreen.

"And then, only the techpriests knew how to use machines. Well, them and the Emperor on Terra." Ramona said with a knowing tone.

"Pretty much, yes. And thus the Imperium was born. The Forge and the Emperor working together to unite the galaxy again. And leading the way, were the Rogue Traders, empowered with Warrants of Trade to deal with xenos, acquire navigation routes and pinpoint enemies for the following fleets of the Great Crusade. The Forge kept the monopoly on technology, and took over the surviving Forge Worlds into their domain. The Navis Nobilitae or the Navigator Houses were formed to guide the ships into the Warp, and every religion found was destroyed and obliterated. All religions but one, the Cult Mechanicus. You!" I pointed at another cadet.

"Well...it seems obvious the Emperor did not consider the techpriests to be heretics. Perhaps only annoying?" the boy replied with a question, which was mildly amusing.

"You forget something, cadet. The Emperor did not need to learn machine manuals by rote. He was immortal, and He had lived in the Dark Age of Technology. He also had the brains to understand the complex science behind any machine. For the techpriests, his intellect and knowledge of the machines were amazingly miraculous. Or to put it simply, He was the best techpriest of them all. I believe the Emperor felt pity, not annoyance with his machine-worshiping followers. Imagine looking at clouds, and hearing your naive siblings argue if they form a crown or bird. You know it's only water and feel pity." I concluded and teleported away.

I returned to the Starfort, and opened the galactic map on my cogitator. Decima had been updating my simulations, keeping track of imports and exports and numbers for population growth.

My domain was growing very fast, but not fast enough.

I will need billions of new immigrants and a billion techpriests, if slightly better educated with each generation. The geniuses will be selected for my special research teams, and given the best technical training I could steal from the Tau, and the Demiurg and any nearby races with advanced technology.

It seemed a new round of heavy trading was needed, sending all available ships and captains to Ultima Segmentum Forge Worlds, and a few just beyond, like Gryphonne IV in the south and Lucius in the north, plus the big Forges like Ryza and Graia.

They could carry Dark Eldar and Necron artifacts, plus few Tau and Eldar weapons. The STC templates would need to be customized for every Forge to make them more attractive and valuable, plus targeting data on nearby Necron or Ork worlds.

Did I shamelessly ask for all-female regiments and any Blanks or Pariah they could provide? I sure did.

Did I ask Forge Ryza for 200 Catachan regiments to pacify the Fringe? Yes, I did.

But I also earmarked a transport of 40000 Armed Sentinels and Tarantula turrets and a billion multi-spectrum vaccines doses to be donated to Catachan's citizens. I may drain their manpower, but I'll not leave them defenseless on that Death World.

Combat Walkers were powerful force multipliers, and medication for an entire planet even more.

I was also pretty sure that Finona and her Catachan husband will be able to induce an immigration drive for my domains, even if it would be only kids and women, sent to the paradise worlds filled with untamed forests and savage Orks in the Eastern Fringe.

Perhaps send a million adamantium swords as well...and flak armor with blackstone armor plates? Sure, why not?

The Catachans were not stupid, even if forced to live in near servitude on a jungle planet where everything could kill you.

Plans made, I raised my eyes to look at Dreadnought Chyron, who just entered my quarters. "Yes, Brother?"

"We have a problem, Chapter Master. A dozen Apothecaries have defected while pretending to search for new herbs. I fear your Blank women escorting them have..." He rumbled in a cold voice.

I sighed inward and stood up. "Come with me then. Any clues on why they would turn traitor?" I asked while heading towards the docking bay.

The Apothecaries and the Sanguinary priests, plus a few techmarines and various support personnel are the remains of the original (cursed) Lamenters, which of course implies all the Chaos fuckery possible. Like a minor plant collection expedition turning traitor when away from their base and my watchful gaze.

"I suspect it was the failures of the Blood Ravens gene-seed, my Lord. Others have also voiced displeasure at using such corrupted gene-seed, that even poisons Blanks." Chyron said in a level voice, possibly agreeing with the defectors then.

"It would happen even with Primarch's Khan or Sanguinius gene-seed, my friend. That's why I demanded test recruits from eleven different fathers, not just my own sons. The three recruits that survived, all have my genes or my children's genes. I am the reason, not the gene-seed." I whispered as we reached the docking bay.

I looked at the airlock door, to find Hestia and Fidelia already armed for war.

"They have the right to avenge their Sisters, Captain." I heard Rafen murmur on the Manifold.

Allright! The more the merrier. Plus I could use the Sisters to relax on the way to the Pharos. Damn crazy universe!