The Audacious Rogue Trader

After finalizing the deal with the Dark Mechanicus, Peter handed over the liaison work to Filon, whose greater knowledge made him less susceptible to being deceived by the Dark Mechanicus.

At this moment, Peter stood on the command bridge of the Blackrock, proceeding to the next step in strengthening their warband.

They lacked everything—weapons, armor, ships, energy—but none of these were the most pressing concern. The most important thing was Space Marines; they needed to increase the number of battle-brothers in their warband.

Now, the Dark Mechanicus had delivered the surgical equipment for the transformation procedures and trained Brother Dioscorides as an Apothecary. Yet they still lacked the most crucial component: the "Gene-seed." This tissue, extracted from an Astartes' body, was a mysterious gland created by the Emperor, the key to elevating a boy into an Astartes.

When a youth underwent the nineteen surgical procedures to become an Astartes, two Gene-seeds would develop within him. The one in his neck would mature after five years and could be safely removed through surgery. After ten years, the Gene-seed in his chest cavity would also mature and become harvestable, but no one would do so.

This was because the Gene-seed within the chest's Gene-seed receptacle was one of the sources of a Space Marine's power. It released hormones to maintain the superhuman body's functions and was tightly linked to the other superhuman organs. Over the course of a long or short service career, it would convert the Space Marine's combat experience into genetic information and preserve it.

Forcibly removing the chest's Gene-seed would almost certainly kill the Space Marine. Thus, only after a Space Marine fell in battle would an Apothecary extract the chest's Gene-seed.

Standing beside Peter were Anthony and Barnabas. The three of them were the commanders of this operation, and for this, they needed to hold a meeting first to clarify their objectives.

Captain Barnabas spoke first:

"We need Gene-seed now. The Gene-seed in our brothers' necks was already harvested by the Legion long ago; we don't have a single spare seed left. If we can't increase the number of warband brothers, our warband will always be a minor skirmish force, liable to be wiped out in a single battle."

Barnabas had removed his helmet, revealing a broad forehead. His brown hair was cropped nearly to the scalp, and his skin was rough as sandpaper. A long scar ran across his right cheek, deeply gouging his right eye. But that was no issue; a red mechanical eye had replaced it.

Peter replied to his "fleet" master:

"The Imperial Chapters and the Mechanicus have Gene-seed, but with our current strength, we can't seize it. The Dark Mechanicus surely has reserves as well, but we have nothing left to offer them. Other Legions or warbands also lack seeds; they won't trade with us either, and they're even eyeing the seeds inside our own bodies. As for Bayer's Apothecarion, we don't have a way to contact them yet."

Anthony sighed:

"Then is there any other channel for us to obtain Gene-seed?"

Peter answered gravely:

"There is. There's a group of xenos. These xenos possess a considerable quantity of Gene-seed. They dwell deep within the Webway, always squeezing the last drop of value out of their slaves. When Space Marines die at their hands, they extract the Gene-seed and preserve it for trade."

"Captain, you mean dealing with the Dark Eldar!"

Anthony couldn't help but be startled by his captain's audacity.

"Of course not. Going to the Dark Eldar with our current strength would be like a duck carrying scallions to market—we'd be captured and sent to the Arena."

Peter looked at his brother:

"But there is a group of intermediaries. They possess nearly limitless authority, the audacity to trade with xenos and heretics, and most importantly, a legal identity."

Anthony still couldn't figure it out, but Captain Barnabas beside him spoke up first:

"Rogue Traders."

"Correct. Rogue Traders. In fact, I've already contacted a Rogue Trader from a Minor Dynasty, but they only accept pick-up on their own turf."

"We go to them? Is that reliable?"

Anthony was a bit worried. He was arrogant, but not foolish. Going to a Rogue Trader's domain put them at a disadvantage; the other party could easily destroy them.

Peter shook his head:

"I can't guarantee he's absolutely trustworthy, but he does have quite a number of records trading with xenos and heretics. So far, there's been no case of him double-crossing—or at least, none that we know of."

"This Rogue Trader has guts. In The Expanse, holding a Trade Warrant issued by Roboute Guilliman, yet engaging in trade with xenos and heretics. A man like that either has skill, connections, or both."

Faced with this situation, the other two didn't know how to decide. The risk was indeed considerable.

In the end, Peter made the call:

"Danger certainly exists, but we are Astartes. Danger is as ordinary to us as breathing. For the warband's development, we go see him."

At the mere command of the Forged Steel Lord, the starship that had been orbiting this planet for nearly half a year began to awaken.

The twenty-six thousand people aboard stirred into motion. Sailors armed themselves and stood guard at key passages throughout the ship. The various families inspected the equipment they maintained. The Navigator was roused from his stasis pod. The Psykers within the Gellar Field generator were injected with sedatives, forced into slumber.

During the Blackrock's preparations for departure, a few minor incidents occurred. A Promethium pipeline in Sector C3 sprang a leak, sparking a fire that killed forty-two people. Two crewmen selected from among the slaves, unfamiliar with the internal routes, wandered into a restricted area and were shot on the spot by sailors. Two families responsible for maintaining Macro Cannon #3 and Lance Battery #2 got into a brawl for unknown reasons, resulting in twelve deaths. All in all, the departure went quite smoothly.

As the engines ignited, the Blackrock moved slowly, pulling away from the Dark Mechanicus's Moon-class Cruiser and several Cobra-class Destroyers. The Blackrock began to break free of the planet's gravitational pull, leaving orbit.

The Captain repeatedly ensured that the Gellar Field had been deployed, waiting for the Plasma Engine to finish charging. Barnabas checked and rechecked tirelessly—after all, their warband currently had only this one ship, and most of their battle-brothers were aboard. If an accident occurred due to his negligence, it would be a catastrophic blow to their warband.

As the Blackrock sailed toward the system's Mandeville Point, the ship, carrying its fourteen dangerous members, surged into the chaotic Warp. The Warp journey had begun.

Once the Blackrock entered the Warp, all observation ports were sealed. Mortals were forbidden from looking outside, on pain of summary execution. The Warp was too twisted and terrifying; for most mortal minds, even a few glances would bring corruption and distortion. Of course, Peter and his kind cared little for this—they had once lived on a Daemon World, coexisting with countless daemons day and night.

Yet during this time in the Warp, for reasons unknown, some aboard the Blackrock found their belongings moved, others heard whispers or weeping from within the walls, and still others got lost in areas they knew perfectly well. But since the ship's Gellar Field remained stable, the upper echelons paid it no mind, chalking it up to thieves and neighboring cabin occupants. As for those who got lost, a few lashes would set them straight.

After all, they were in the Warp now. Some things were better left uninvestigated too deeply.