The task of conducting Princeps Sorn's funeral fell, by rite and burden, to the highest-ranking Titanicus officer present. Much as I might wish to delegate, that meant me. I had ordered the entire Legio to attend, but even so I underestimated the weight of the moment. The internment of a Princeps is no small thing. Cry Havoc was already teeming with repair personnel, yet an entire hour was cleared and the main forge-cathedral set aside for this rite. Clad in my formal Titanicus robes, a heavy, deep cerulean and silver Tempestus garment with Mars red accents around the sleeves, skirt, and hood. My hood is drawn low as I step onto the dais before the reliquary bier. Her body lies within, entombed in a sarcophagus of black iron, flanked by cogitator screens that replayed the fragments we could recover of her battle-record, her honors, her kill-tallies. The chamber is packed to its vaults with enginseers, tech-adepts, and magi, yet when I come into view, silence falls - broken only by the distant rumble of the forges. "We are gathered," I begin, my voice carrying through the Vox-amplifiers, "to mourn the passing of Princeps Sorn of the Lords of Valour. Princeps of the Lupus Fidei. The Wolf of Faith." I let the heavy words settle on the assembly. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹⟡𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⟡𝙣𝙚𝙩 "Without her sacrifice, none of us would be standing in this forge, aboard this ship. When faced with the corruption of her maniple, Princeps Sorn chose duty above survival. She chose death. Not only for herself, but for her moderati, her guardians, her crew, and her family, rather than see them twisted by the Ruinous Powers. That is the burden of command. To hold lives in your hands, and to decide how they are spent. Few could make such a choice. She did." I bow my head, intoning the Prayer of Disconnection, and the crowd follows suit. "Circuits unbound. Linkage dissolved. The will of the Princeps passes from the manifold into silence." I move to the head of the bier and, with both hands, carefully sever the MIU umbilical from the back of her skull. The gesture was final. The bond was broken. "Princeps Sorn was a talented and selfless soul," I say, lifting my gaze to the assembly. "Her record speaks for itself, but her final wishes, stored within her implants, speak louder still." At my signal, attendants and Magos Gertrude approach. Together, we begin the rite. The Litany of Iron Fidelity echoes through the cathedral, a rolling hymn to the unity of Princeps and Titan. As we chant, we work with ritual precision, extracting her augmetics, cataloguing them, polishing her remains. Each step is marked with binaric invocations, each extraction sealed with a prayer. "She chose to give all she was," I continue. "Her implants, sacred relics of her service, were hers by right. She wished otherwise. Even in death, she wished to serve. Her bones will be laid to rest in the Mausoleum beneath our feet. But her skull will walk beside her engine still, and her remaining augmetics will be passed down to her successors." I lift the polished skull and set it upon a plinth. At once the Binary Dirge of Severance shivers through the noosphere… a distorted lament of static, a half-music, half-binaric hiss. I raise my voice over the dirge. "The Princeps, a voice of the Omnissiah's engine, has ceased. Yet her echo endures in the manifold, her will etched in iron, her commands carved in fire. The Titan yet endures, for the Machine is immortal. She has given her matter to the cycle, her victories to the archive, and her spirit to the Motive Force. May her spark be recycled into the Eternal Circuit." Silence returned, vast and heavy. Only the forges rumbled on, eternal. "Princeps Sorn's sacrifice will not be forgotten. Through her sacrifice she has provided Legio Tempestus this ship, Engines and resources to properly rebuild. By the will of the Machine God, I Nicole Cavalerio, swear we will see them restored to their full glory and put to purpose." I declare and a low howl echoes through Cry Havoc as she answers. —----------------------------------------------------------- POV: Archmagos Akellonon Doll Doll tapped a metal finger against the massive display arrayed in front of him as he considered their current situation. The somber tone of the grand funeral had helped curtail the unrestrained fervor building amongst the Mechanicus personnel. Reminding the lower-ranking adepts and Tech Priests of their mortality and tempering their expectations for the next stages of repairs and salvage operations. The Processional's size was simply obscene. The amount of resources and wealth that laid within the various hulks and wrecks was almost incomprehensible. The same thing could be said for the dangers as well, even now, the strange effects of this system weighed heavily on the minds of the fleet. Their salvaging efforts had taken on a rather efficient but brutal tone. If they wanted a particular component, then the surrounding systems were acceptable collateral damage. Xor's targets had been fruitful for the most part. Two of the Abaci were no longer operational and had been set aside for later experimentation with AME. This put the total haul at ten working Abaci and two nonfunctional after the fleet returned with their own findings. The Gilded Scales in particular had stumbled onto a string of lucky wrecks. The transport they had looted did have some atomics, just not the variety they expected. A quartet of Deathstrike missile launchers and a large, diverse stockpile of their munitions. Barrage Missiles, Solfire Missiles, Nuclear Missiles, Harpoon Missiles, even a Stasis Missile and a Vortex Missile, had been acquired after a few hours of effort. The main issue with the Cry Havoc was her engines and getting her ready for transit. The Emergency Repairs III would not be moving quickly, but was well on her way to being functional. The repair ship was playing a pivotal role as the Cry Havoc sat perched in her embrace. Without her aid, repairing the Titanicus ship would have been infeasible. The Cry Havoc's aft end sat peeled open down to the depths of her internal structure. A total engine replacement was underway. The persistent incursions from the Hollow Men had abated as they moved away from the depths of the Inner Sea. The Astartes cruiser they targeted for the engines had been stuffed with murder servitors. Nicole had taken the opportunity to replenish her stockpile, even if the replacement servitors were entirely different models. The medical bay had been in decent enough shape that it had been worth taking too. Not all the salvage attempts had been successful. One of the wrecks they had wanted to salvage for fuel had been filled with a hostile, acidic protean ooze. He had, of course, gone to see the God Machines in person, albeit briefly, and had agreed with Nicole's sentiment. While the God Engines were a wondrous find, none were at risk of being lost, so their repairs could come later. The priority was getting the vessels into an operational state. That meant: power, engines, navigation, air, warp drive, and Gellar fields. Swapping out so many components in just two weeks was absurd, something he would have laughed at the mere notion of some months ago, but here he was doing it. It was good that he had removed his need for sleep years ago. He had personally thanked the Omnissiah when the Hunter's Lady stumbled upon the wreck of a Mechanicus Capacitar Ship and recovered over ten thousand industrial-grade servitors. The hold of the Emergency Repairs III was steadily filling up as her massive forges worked constantly to separate and recycle the materials fed to them. Spare ship components and valuable parts were scattered across her upper storage decks. Various salvaged materials were in piles as they were sorted through. The Emergency Repairs III had already been a massive vessel, and adding the Cry Havoc, which was as long as a Grand Cruiser on top of that, had resulted in barely controlled chaos. A stray string of thoughts drew his attention towards his disciple. Nicole's recent behavior was deviating further from her normal patterns. Her actions indicated high levels of stress and vexation inconsistent with the expedition's successes thus far. Nicole had taken an extremely keen interest in the reports on the Carrion Deeps from the refugees when everyone expected her to be fussing over the Engines. In particular, she seemed focused on the reports and location of a large pyramidal Xenos vessel. A heavily damaged one that did not match her stated criteria for the third recovery vessel. Doll terminated that line of thought. He predicted Nicole would address the issue when the Argent Drake finished offloading all the accumulated salvage and embarked on the delve for the third vessel. Doll made a note to cycle some of the Mechanicus teams that were exhibiting signs of accumulating stress. The effects of the system seemed much greater for those who had ridden on the Argent Drake or strayed into the Inner Sea than they did for those who had remained in the periphery and only salvaged the Outer Sea. The effects mainly manifested in individuals with lesser mental fortitude, a peculiar phenomenon to be certain. Doll reached over and brushed away the thick layer of dust from the case he had personally pilfered from one of the wrecks. It would be a nice little gift. An archeotech pistol for Nicole to add to her collection at the end of this excursion. That was far from all he had found in that little Exploritor vault, but the relic-grade cybernetics he wished to install would have to wait. There was simply far too much to be done at present. Doll scuttled back out of his personal storage room and allowed the deluge of traffic in the Noosphere to crash over him. His immense processing power was used to fine-tune the behavior patterns and operations of the army of servitors toiling away; a five percent increase in work flow productivity was well worth the effort. —---------------------------------------------- Doll was mildly surprised when Nicole insisted on a private meeting, given how busy they both were. He found her waiting in a secure chamber, seated alone with only AME nearby. The Xenos puzzle lay untouched on the table before her. She looked up as the door sealed shut behind him, then sighed. "So, Master Doll… remember how we agreed to ignore the mark until it became an issue?" She turned her hand over, showing the faint sigil etched into her skin. "It has become an issue, I take it?" Doll asked, settling into the seat opposite her. Even as he spoke, he began the tedious process of unlocking restricted files concerning the Necrons and the C'tan using his credentials, which raised several flags that would need to be addressed later. "Yes. Since entering the system, something has been using the mark to coax me into a meeting. I believe it to be a C'tan shard, though its purpose still eludes me… but I have identified its location." "One moment." Doll raised a finger and dove deeper into the forbidden datavaults. The more he read, the greater his unease became. The Necrons' technological reach was simply staggering. Entities that devoured stars? Catastrophic. He forced his cogitators to calm down. He focused back on Nicole, "Proceed." "The pyramid vessel is a Necron Tomb Ship, I am quite certain. The mark has been guiding me toward it." I lift up and expose the back of my hand, giving him a clear look at the Ankh, "Ignoring the summons seems unwise, and possibly detrimental to my health." She admitted with a guilty wince. "A shame," Doll said dryly. "Were I a Xenarite, I would be elated by such an opportunity." Nicole snorted despite herself. The archives gave him much, but left enormous gaps. Especially where Nicole was concerned. "I am almost certain the mark is a mote of a specific shard: the Void Dragon," she admitted, holding his gaze. "The records state that Necrons and Eldar are ancient foes. Why, then, would they gift such a mark to you?" Doll asked, his processors chasing probabilities. Her certainty contrasted with the censor bars clouding his own data. He began cross-referencing against a Heresy-era vault recovered days ago from one of the broken Mechanicus wrecks they had salvaged for parts. At last, the redactions peeled away. Mars. The Noctis Labyrinthus. The Cult of the Dragon. Sparse notes, yet all damning. A Martian subsect venerating a Necron star god? His optics constricted to pinpoints as the pieces fell into place. For worship to exist, some manner of object of worship must be present. 998.M41 - the Necron assault on Mars. Threads converged. A shard of the Void Dragon lay beneath Mars. Nicole had inquired about the Emperor and the Dragon. The ancient legend was no myth at all. For millennia, it had slumbered beneath the soil of the Red Planet. Doll locked his systems down to keep tremors from betraying his revelation. Nicole had been the one trying to guide him to this conclusion. She already knew. If it were an immediate threat, she would have made it known. "I think it's best if I go alone," Nicole said finally. "I'm hesitant even to bring AME." "Absolutely not," Doll snapped. "Master, the shard wants something from me. That affords me protections others may not share. If it wished us harm and if it has absorbed additional shards, our resistance would be meaningless." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. He disliked it, but the logic was sound. The Necrons were an imperious species. Even the rare peaceful encounters bore that out. The C'tan, though, were an entirely different beast. Nicole leaned back. "I have a hunch. Call it instinct or just a suspicious inkling that we'll need to flee the Carrion Deeps immediately following our next recovery. Whatever happens, it won't end quietly." "That is… concerning," Doll admitted, still scrubbing the ancient vault for more pertinent data. "I have some ideas for mitigating risk. I'll take our Necron artifacts to serve as tribute if necessary. Depending on what happens, this may prove to be the most or the least heretical thing I've ever done." Doll's processors hummed with missing context. "Nicole… were you ever a member of this... Cult of the Dragon?" "What? No. But…" she glanced at the glowing mark, grimacing. "That might be subject to change." Doll filed that away as an issue to revisit later. "When we reach Cypra Mundi, the Archmagi will demand to know why I accessed this data, even at my rank," Doll said, tapping a finger on the table. "I can justify it by saying that we encountered a Tomb Ship empowered by a C'tan shard, and the information was necessary to avoid a containment breach. That should suffice when paired with actual scans of the vessel. I can prepare a preliminary report." "That works. I can try to bring back some artifacts to help sell the story. A few phase blades, perhaps some blackstone." Nicole said as she nodded along. Doll regarded her intently. "How certain are you of this course of action?" "Not at all. I don't sense hostility through the mark, but this is uncharted territory. I can only act on the best information I have." She sighed, giving him a helpless shrug. "Fine," Doll said softly. "But you must inform everyone who needs to know about this detour, and if you insist on going solo, you must convince them to let you do so." He punctuated it with a firm nod. Nicole, clearly not expecting the demand, blanched. "Whaaat!?" —------------------------------------------- For thousands of years, it had wandered alone, following its primary directive. Jump. Scan. Catalogue. Repeat. Until it finally found itself in a strange place from whence it could not flee. Since that fateful day, it had slept nestled within the belly of an ancient vessel. No current flowed, no circuits sang, no command stirred its dormant machine-spirit. Rust and silence entombed it. Then, in the void, a ripple brushed against its long-dead senses. A faint, flickering signal weaker than a heartbeat, but patterned, deliberate. Something stirred. An ancient relay twitched. A fragment of code sparked awake, gnawing through the dark like a starving animal scenting food. Subsystems hummed, groaned, then snapped online with halting vigor. The probe's processors jittered as they parsed the signal, every flicker of binary biting into its cortex. [Authority Recognized.] [Directive… Awaken… Awaken…] Scraping binaric clicks, like teeth snapping. [We heed the call of Mars. For the Eternal Quest.] [We are Cartographer: B4-LT-Δ] [Master-presence… Command… Recognized.] [Function: Re-engaged.] The old and simple AI keened low, a digital growl that rattled through its corroded frame. Data tasted like blood on the tongue. Its cracked mechanical irises open, glaring into the endless dark. Thrusters flexed and moved with insectile jerks, scraping stray flakes of rust and debris aside. It turned, sensors straining toward the source, a pinprick of familiar order in this system of entropy. It did not know who had called. It did not care. Its ancient directives lit like fire in its mind, simple and absolute: [Go to the signal. Serve the signal. Obey the signal.] The probe's thrusters coughed, belched, then roared weakly into life as the ancient drive thumped to life. A trail of corroded plating sloughed away as it shuddered free of its rusted cradle, revealing the reflective, unblemished chrome of its ancient hull. Drifting toward the distant call, like a starving hound lurching toward the sound of its master's whistle. [Power Reserves: Low] [Warning: Debris Detected] The signal pulsed again. The probe tried to answer, but its external communications array was unresponsive. The little hundred-meter craft vanished into the sea of hulks and debris like a darting minnow. Following the scent of freedom. —--------------------------------------------------- I feel incredibly awkward as I wait for everyone to gather. Taking time away from their duties to come to this meeting, I have hastily arranged to facilitate Master Doll's requirements. It seems like master Doll has summoned everyone he could to make this as awkward for me as possible. Lord Drakios, Captain Bolaar, Astrovas, the Magi, Navigator Lily, Astropath Supine, even Major Milo and Captain Felixis. It's working. Master Doll stands in the back with his arms crossed. "Thank you, everyone, for making time to come to this briefing." I pull out the puzzle box and set it in front of me. "There have been some developments and information that are pertinent for me to share. As it will affect the final retrieval mission into the Carrion Deeps." I steeple my fingers and sigh. "So… First, I have reason to believe that once we initiate retrieval of the third vessel from the Carrion Deeps, the fleet will need to depart the system as swiftly as possible. This means that any additional salvage and looting should be done on our way in, as we will likely not have time to do so on our way out." I scan the room. A few faces look confused, but most nod and seem to take this development in stride. "I believe we can work around that restriction without severely changing our timetable." Lord Drakios says, looking to the Magi. "Yes. The fleet can be made ready for transit in just over a week. Repairs on the Cry Havoc's new engines will be completed by then. We anticipate the holds on the Emergency Repairs III should be near capacity on processed raw materials shortly after." Magos TH-102 says confidently. "We should be able to double the number of Abaci and salvaged navigational components with some careful navigating and swift extractions," Xor adds, while tapping on his datapad. "Right. I have also processed the Carrion reports and learned of a few vessels in the Deeps. Most of which we will be avoiding at all costs. This includes an Ark Mechanicus and a Gloriana class battleship." I hold up a hand before the protests can start. "The Ark has been entirely consumed and corrupted by what I presume is a particularly aggressive strain of Ferric Blight. Once we are closer, I will be able to confirm if it is a daemon masquerading as the Ark it once was or if risking a recovery team is feasible. The Gloriana is too damaged to recover, and reports indicate that no one who has attempted to loot the wreck has ever returned alive or even made contact from the inside. This makes me hesitant to make the attempt for unknown gain. We must pick our target of choice with extreme care. The risks posed by any unknown enemy in this region are unfathomable." I say firmly. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. There are a lot of calculating and considering looks from the various Mechanicus personnel upon hearing that a holy Ark has fallen to such a vile fate, but thankfully they all seem willing enough to wait for additional data before making any rash decisions. I decide to rip the proverbial band-aid off quickly. "That being said, when we arrive in the deeps. There is a Xenos vessel, one close to the star. One that I need to visit… Alone." I say through gritted teeth. The protests erupt immediately from pretty much everyone. I sit there and wait for everyone to calm down under the deluge of stern disapproving gazes before I begin my explanation. "I have been contacted by a powerful Xenos entity that wishes to meet with me to discuss something." I tap the puzzle for emphasis. Not everyone in the room was read in on the marking, but those who were scowl. "I will have a measure of protection. However, that protection likely does not extend to anyone who comes with me onto an ancient Necron Tomb Ship. The entity involved is powerful." "How powerful?" Baldos growls. "The Segmentum Tempestus, Arotepk Dynasty, Silentia system incident." I say, pulling up the report on the holo table where an escaped and supposedly insane Void Dragon shard had wiped out multiple planets before it was recaptured. "It was caused by one of the weaker versions of the entity I am about to meet. If it wished me harm, there is very little outside of attacking it with our entire fleet that we could do to stop it. If it is one of the more potent versions of the entity, even that may be lacking. I cannot elaborate further as the entity is considered forbidden knowledge by both the Inquisition and the Mechanicus." "Is this something you must do, Princeps?" Captain Felixis asked politely. "Yes." I say with full conviction. "However, the interaction may also be the impetus that requires us to leave in haste. I am not certain which event is, either my discussion with the entity or our retrieval of the third vessel." I admit. "So ideally both actions will be undertaken simultaneously." Astrovas steps forward, takes out his Emperor's Tarot, and sets it firmly on the table. "Astrovas, this system reacts poorly with fate. I don't know if that's the best idea," I warn, but all three of my psychic teachers step up. "We draw." Astrovas says firmly as he pours energy into the cards. "Only three!" I hiss, standing from my seat when Astrovas starts to lay out the cards. "Nine." Lady Supine purrs, "It is the most thorough way to be certain of your path dear." as she channels energy into the deck. My danger sense spikes, and I say much more firmly. "Three." Unconsciously, my aura expands and blankets the chamber. Everyone stiffens, and several people shiver as I stare intently at my instructors. "If nine are drawn, someone in here will die. Three and no more." I warn them. Astrovas glances at the two flanking him, and they nod after a long moment. "Just three then." The past card is flipped. The present card comes soon after. The Deck pulses as his hand reaches for the final card. He says, and the lights in the room visibly dim for a moment as the combination sits arrayed. "That completes the array of three." Suddenly, there is a small spark that flickers across the deck, and a fourth and final card flips itself over, landing atop the Array. Everyone stares in stunned silence for a moment by the action. "Apparently we are topping the array off with. The Silver Door." He says stiffly as he carefully sets down the tarot deck. "Let's not talk about that" I say curtly, staring suspiciously down at the card. "Agreed" Astrovas replies. I look up at Astrovas. "I think this is enough. If there are no objections I am going. Alone. Any questions?" I ask as I reach across to push the cards out of their array. "The Silver Door drawn in that position means a long road ahead, a difficult one, one from which there will be no coming back once committed to." Lady Supine says softly. "Revelation was in the future array. I believe any discussion on the matter should wait for now." I say with a small petulant huff. "I suppose that is a fair interpretation." She says with a small, amused smile. I have no doubt the blind woman has numerous interpretations bouncing around in her mind. "Right. I will take the Comet. If any of you insist on going, you will remain in the Comet until I get back." I tell my retinue, who, for the most part, just look resigned or a bit sour. "Fine. I'll wait in the Comet." Baldos says immediately. "Also, the less of you that come, the more room I have for rare Necron loot. Baldos, I can at least use you as a lifter for any larger, heavier artifacts." I mutter, which seems to make both Delta-A3 and Lael relax and give me exasperated looks. "Ah, speaking of artifacts. I also need to borrow the two Necron artifacts, the orb and the staff, just in case there are any Necrons awake and I need to bribe them on my way in." I add with a slightly guilty expression. "Just, take them." Bolaar says with a sigh waving it away. Master Doll looks rather contemplative from his spot in the rear of the assembly. He gives me a small nod before he departs without a word. "Right. Thanks, everyone. That will be all for now." "We'll plot a course to the Carrion Deeps and loot as much as we can on our way. Abaci and Archeotech navigational components take priority. Relics and valuables are secondary, with a small focus on Titanicus gear, I think, would be prudent given Nicole's newest acquisitions. My poor Dynasty's coffers can be a secondary consideration." Lord Drakios says dramatically. "Didn't you loot a second air yacht filled with precious metals and gems out of the last hulk?" Someone asks, confused. He coughs and, clearly attempting to lighten the mood, and loudly declares, "Woe is me. But to find a single, mere treasure yacht left behind by the legendary Xenos pirate Captain Nathaniel Flint." "And the Hellfire Missile launchers," someone adds, "and the relic armoire filled with luxury clothes." Says another. "Such are the sacrifices we make for our trusted dynastic allies!" Drakios decries. "Back to work the lot of you, go get me… I mean us, more money!" —--------------------------------------------------- After the meeting adjourned, he met up privately with Doll and Esailla Supine. "How bad was that array really?" He asked, giving his friend a sidelong glance. Doll considered the question, glancing at the Astropath, "I am not sure yet. We will find out after her private excursion. Things are in motion by entities far beyond us." Esailla hummed, "This place makes divination difficult. The upcoming encounter will shape her actions going forward. It will either be highly beneficial or detrimental." She rolled one of her smaller divination tools, a small gold inlaid bone ivory die, around on her palm. Doll nods, "I simply dislike my apprentice being pulled into the machinations of Xenos gods. Even those who seek the defeat of our shared enemy, Chaos." "Isn't that what they say? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?" Drakios muttered, before he chuckled darkly, "But sometimes people forget that the enemy of your enemy sometimes is just another enemy." "Hard to say," Esailla whispered as the exhaustion from the divination caught up to her and she leaned on her staff. Drakios waved over one of his guards to help her to a seat. "I trust Nicole; she herself is most annoyed with the manipulations," Doll said confidently. "We will see how things play out." "Well… Given the recent windfall to her and the Mechanicus, there's only one thing for me to do." Drakios said seriously. "Gather enough Archeotech and Relics to double my net worth!" Doll blinked and looked over. "Do you truly believe that is a feasible goal?" Drakios shrugged, "This place is terrible, yes, but it's saturated with valuable items deeper in. If we don't pack our hold with artifacts and Archeotech, I'd never forgive myself!" "I feel sympathy for Cypra Mundi's coffers," Doll said, shaking his head. "Bah! Dealing with me after having to deal with our lovely little trouble magnet? They'll adore me!" Drakios protested before sighing. "Now, I need to contact the Eldar and give them an update on our timetable and start plotting our route to the Deeps." —-------------------------------------- Back in his office, Arken was trying to study the massive map of the Sea of Hulks, which continued to grow the more they scanned. Every time the probes sent back their data the total number reporting active decreased, some from accidental damage, others due to the hostile environment. The specter flitting about was making it difficult to focus. This was by far the most annoying apparition to grace his office in the last week. An old rival, long dead, spitting curses and venom at him. Arken reached for an ornate crystal decanter to try to drown out the noise when suddenly there was a sharp crack. The specter fell backwards with a hole in its skull as another sauntered into view. An old man twirled and smoothly holstered his pistol. A regal figure that was burned into Arken's memory. "You leave my grandson alone." The wraith spat as the other apparition dissipated. "No need to gawk, boy. Pour me a glass of that. You always had good taste. Then again, you had to get more from me than just my devilishly good looks and keen sense for business." The ghost sat itself across from him and leaned back, studying the map intently. "Of course, Grandfather," Arken replied, falling back on ancient buried habits as he poured two crystalline glasses full of a rich amber liquid. Arken sipped his drink while his grandfather's ghost studied the map. "You've done well, lad." the ghost said without looking at him. "Kept the line going strong. Made good use of my investments. Your littlest whelp reminds me of your mother… perhaps a little less of a violent spitfire." The ghost reached for the glass and rocked it back and forth on the desk idly as it mused. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you." Arken admitted fondly. The ghost lifted the glass, tossed it back, and grinned. Slamming it down on the desk as he stood. "Damn, that's good stuff!" He sighed happily and turned towards Arken. "As you rightfully should! Filial piety and all that! Ha! Now lad." The ghost leaned in close and for a brief moment, Arken could smell the rich smoky tang that accompanied his grandfather. "There's an absolute fortune to be made here. I can smell it." The specter squinted and finally pointed at a rather plain-looking Imperial transport in the inner sea. "Right. Here." Arken blinked and looked at the hulk in question. It was… boring. "Are you sure?" He asked doubtfully. The ghost's eyes twinkled smugly. "What do you think?" Arken checked the data. The Hulk had no energy signatures worth talking about, nothing stood out. But if he was going to listen to any ghost, it would be his grandfather. "Alright. We'll give it a look." The ghost nodded and smirked, "Good luck, boy, you're gonna need as much of it as you can get." The spirit flickered and faded away. Akren looked down at the empty glass. "Alfred… set aside one of our bottles. I need to pour out a tribute to someone when we get home. Only the absolute best will do." "Of course, sir. It will be done!" His Seneschal replied. In his youth, Arken had bet against that old man and lost far too many times. He'd see if the old rogue's luck still held up even in death. Arken reached out and marked the Hulk as a high-priority salvage target. —---------------------------------------- A few days later, he was inspecting the contents of a shipping container containing his 'treasure', which turned out to be piles of ceramic cookware. "Doll, give it to me straight. Is this worth anything?" Arken asked. "While the quality is surprisingly durable and well-made, it is merely cookware. I am sure you could sell it for a modest profit." Doll admitted, his tone consoling. "Damn it. Well… what about the STC for it? That has to be worth something right?" Drakios asked with a small smirk. Doll froze for a full second before his head snapped towards Arken. "You found an STC?" "Keeping that find a secret was worth it just to see your reaction!" Arken chuckled but nodded. "An STC for ceramic cookware," Arken explained, leading Doll around the container to a robust metal data-storage cube. Doll used a dendrite to connect to the storage device and began parsing the contents of the STC. After a few moments, he disconnected and had to step away, his breathing labored. "Well?" Arken asked with a raised eyebrow. "Arken, do you have any idea what this is?" Doll asked him. "An STC for really nice ceramic cookware?" Arken repeated while raising an eyebrow. "The final product is irrelevant! The advanced and nuanced processing methods are! The Molding - forming methods for non-euclidean geometries! The Drying - fast curing processes that do not compromise the materials electrical, chemical or physical properties! The Firing - thermal conductivity, resistance and durability at high-temperatures! The Glazing - Chemical reactivity and material bonding for structural repairs. The Finishing - how to ensure the product meets structural and weight standards without compromising other performance requirements!" Doll's voice grew frantic. "This… This is compatible. It can all be applied to the production of Ceramite!" Arken paused, his pupils dilating as the implications sank in, "Frak… the old man beat me again." He whispered, but despite his grumbling, he was grinning from ear to ear. "I take it, it's valuable then?" "Arken, this… this is worth a fortune," Doll admitted, his mind was already imagining various ways he could use the new techniques as a Fabricator in their new forges. "Perfect. Then it's just what we needed." Arken replied, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "So? Have you managed to find anything as good?" He asked, earning him a withering glare from Doll. "Were we not friends. I would have initiated strangle.exe upon you." Doll grumbled as he scuttled away, but not before calling for an entire battalion of skitarii to guard the precious STC. —---------------------------------------------------- With the matter of my excursion settled for the moment I can turn my full attention towards my two biggest issues. One, setting up the next ritual for when we enter the deeps, and two, finding parts for the Cry Havoc and my Legio. It was abundantly clear that the Cry Havoc's departure had been in haste. The loadouts for their Engines were mismatched across the board. They had parts for Engines they couldn't field and were lacking critical replacements for others. Thanks to the mess, I now have the full production schematics for Legio Interfector's unique Static Rounds, along with my Tempestus Chasmata Pattern Laser Destructors. The Tempestus upgrade can be applied to any turbo-laser destructor, paired turbo-laser destructor, paired laser blaster or laser blaster. While the Static Rounds only worked with the Mega Bolters. However, with the Bolt round STC we had, we were already spoiled for choices. Ideally, I need to find another Conversion Beam Dissipator or Neutron Laser to free up the Volcano Cannon on one of the Dire Wolves for some tactical loadout shuffling. Another issue was the Warp Missile Support Rack. It's a fascinating device, for which I lack the schematic for the replacement ammunition. Sadly, neither Legio Tempestus or Interfector databases have the file. Giving me a launcher schematic, but no way of producing ammunition, a critical schematic I will need to procure at Cypra Mundi unless I get absurdly lucky. If we are going to refurbish all the Engines anyway, we might as well try to give them all upgrades. Better Gyroscopes, better Auspexes, Hardened Casing, Bastion Shielding, Plasmatic Binders, and most importantly, Null Emitters to stack with hexagramatic warding to protect them from warp-fuckery if we can source them. There is also an opportunity to test the advanced monomer motive systems on a larger chassis. Will it all be prohibitively expensive, even with most of the parts coming from salvage? Yes. Do I care? Not particularly. If I come across any additional Legio-specific wargear upgrades, I won't hesitate to make use of them. With critical parts for Emergency Repairs III and Cry Havoc procured and the stockpile of Abaci and navigational aids growing steadily, the fleet can focus on procuring upgrades and other valuables. Thankfully, the Outer Sea salvage teams, back with the rest of the fleet, have sourced a replacement drop cathedral, Freeing up my allocation of salvage storage space, the entire cryo storage bay we purged of Genestealers, has been designated as extra storage space for more parts. Looted voidship components currently take up most of the space within. Warp Antennas, Warp Sextants, Teleportariums, and any small Archeotech parts were proving to have the highest value-to-weight ratio. While it might feel like I'm cheating when I planned only to claim three vessels, the Coffin Ship has turned into a slightly larger Drop-Ship due to the heretical Warp Drive having been zealously evicted by some Tech Priests. Making it a support craft like the other two in my books. However, now that our need for parts for our two salvaged vessels had been slaked, everyone had gotten down to the cold calculus of economics. Magos Xor managed to surprise me with a choice when he had an entire Archeotech Antiquity bridge ripped straight out of one light cruiser hulk. Lord Drakios had to turn down an entire transport hold full of Leman Russ tanks to make room for a rare Cypra-pattern Class 2 Plasma Drive. The Star Dragons participate but seem focused on procuring smaller relics and pieces of Astartes gear when possible. They weren't being flashy, but I knew they had secured at least two Iron Halos and some Heresy-era relics. A pair of Space Wolves Frost Blades, a Salamanders Pyroclast Flame Projector, an Ultramarine Chapter Banner, a Blood Angels Crozius Arcanum that seems to constantly leak blood, along with steadily accumulating older suits of Power Armour. One last relic, a shield, they believe might be Primarch-made. I just haven't had time to see it personally. With the Deeps looming ever closer and Badlos electing to take a nap in preparation for our sortie together. I took a backseat to personally going on salvage excursions to process data, organize the holds, and help pick salvage targets. A day before we reached the threshold to enter the Deeps, I got a surprise from the scouting team. "This is Cavalerio, report." "Ma'am, this is team Gamma. We've located a pair of Volcano cannons… and a few other things that require your input." The adept explains. "Fantastic, forward me the data." I reply. Within a few seconds, I have the info. Two Volcano cannons, two Apocalypse launchers, and a pair of Inferno Guns. A lovely spread, until I read further. Three Punisher Titan legs? A Hellstorm Cannon, and an Imperator Plasma Annihilator!? "Gamma, is this a joke?" I ask my voice low. "Negative, report is accurate. No other parts present. Do we want the… legs? Or the weapons? They are rather large, Ma'am." He says, sounding uncertain. I have to take a moment to double-check my allotment of the cargo capacity. I sigh, unable to turn down the rare parts. Even if they push us uncomfortably close to total capacity. "The weapons are all in good condition?" "Yes, Ma'am. Pristine." "Yes. Bring them, including the legs. We can make room for them. I should be able to barter them away at Cypra Mundi. Cavalerio out." I cut the Vox and lean back in my chair, wondering for a brief moment 'What the hell am I doing?' before I shake my head and get back to work.