After finalizing the deal with the Dark Mechanicus, Peter left the negotiations to Filon. Filon knew more and was less likely to be taken in by the Dark Mechanicus.
Now, Peter stood on the command bridge of the Blackrock, overseeing the next step in strengthening the War Band.
They lacked everything: weapons, armor, ships, and energy. But none of that was as urgent as their most important need—more Space Marines. They had to increase the number of brothers in the War Band.
The Dark Mechanicus had already delivered the equipment for the transformation surgeries and trained Brother Dioscorides to become an Apothecary. But they lacked the most important thing: gene-seed. This tissue, extracted from an Astartes, came from mysterious glands created by the Emperor. It was the key to elevating a boy into an Astartes.
After a youth underwent nineteen surgeries to become an Astartes, he would have two gene-seeds in his body. The one in his neck would mature after five years and could be safely removed by surgery. Ten years later, the gene-seed in his chest would also mature and could be removed, but no one did that.
That was because the gene-seed inside the gene-seed receptacle in the chest was one of a Space Marine's sources of strength. It released hormones that sustained his superhuman body and was closely connected to his other enhanced organs. Over the course of a long or short service, it also recorded the Space Marine's combat experience as genetic information.
Removing the gene-seed from the chest by force would almost certainly kill the Space Marine. So an Apothecary only removed it after the Space Marine had fallen in battle.
Standing beside Peter were Anthony and Barnabas. The three of them were in command of this operation, and first they needed to hold a meeting and set clear objectives.
Captain Barnabas spoke first:
"We need gene-seed. The Legion took the gene-seeds from our brothers' necks long ago, and now we don't have a single spare. If we can't increase the number of brothers in the War Band, we'll remain a small-time outfit, liable to be wiped out in a single battle."
Barnabas had taken off his helmet. His broad forehead was exposed, and his short brown hair was cropped close to his scalp. His skin was as rough as sandpaper. A long scar cut across his right cheek, badly damaging his right eye. But that was no problem; a red mechanical bionic eye had taken its place.
Peter answered the master of his "fleet":
"The Imperial Chapters and the Adeptus Mechanicus have gene-seed, but with our strength as it stands, we can't take it from them. The Dark Mechanicus must have stockpiles too, but we have nothing left that would tempt them. The other Legions and War Bands are also short on gene-seed. They won't trade it to us, and they're even eyeing the gene-seed in our bodies. As for Bayer's Apothecarion, we don't have any way to contact them yet."
Anthony sighed.
"Then do we have any other way to get gene-seed?"
Peter answered calmly:
"Yes. There's a group of xenos who have a considerable quantity of gene-seed. They live deep in the Webway and always squeeze every last bit of value out of their slaves. When Space Marines die in their hands, they remove and preserve their gene-seed for trade."
"Captain, you mean trade with the Dark Eldar!"
Anthony couldn't help being astonished by his captain's audacity.
"Of course not. With our strength, going to the Dark Eldar would be like a duck carrying scallions to market. They'd capture us and send us to the Arena."
Peter looked at his brother.
"But there's a group of intermediaries. They have almost unlimited authority, the nerve to trade with xenos and heretics, and, most importantly, legitimate status."
Anthony still hadn't figured out the answer, but Captain Barnabas beside him said it first:
"Rogue Traders."
"Right, Rogue Traders. In fact, I've already contacted a Rogue Trader from a Minor Dynasty, but he'll only accept an in-person pickup."
"We're going to him? Is that safe?"
Anthony was a little worried. He was arrogant and conceited, but not stupid. Going to a Rogue Trader's territory put them at a disadvantage; the other side could wipe them out with ease.
Peter shook his head.
"I can't guarantee he's completely trustworthy, but he does have an extensive record of trading with xenos and heretics. So far, there haven't been any cases of him double-crossing his partners—or, at least, none that we know of."
"This Rogue Trader is incredibly bold. In the Expanse, he holds a Trade Warrant issued by Roboute Guilliman and trades with xenos and heretics. Someone like that must either have influence or powerful backing—maybe both."
Faced with this, the other two didn't know what to decide. The risk was certainly high.
In the end, Peter made the call.
"Of course there's danger, but we're Astartes. Danger is as ordinary to us as breathing. For the sake of the War Band's future, we're going to meet him."
At the Forged Steel Lord's command alone, the starship that had drifted in orbit around this planet for nearly half a year began to awaken.
The ship's twenty-six thousand people sprang into action. The sailors armed themselves and guarded key passageways throughout the ship, while each family inspected the equipment under its care. The Navigator was awakened from his Suspension Pod, and the Psyker in the Gellar Field generator was injected with sedatives to force him to sleep.
A few small mishaps occurred while the Blackrock prepared to depart. A Promethium pipeline in Sector C3 sprang a leak, starting a fire that killed forty-two people. Two crewmen, chosen from among the slaves, wandered into a restricted area because they didn't know the internal routes and were shot dead by the sailors on the spot. Two families responsible for maintaining Macro Cannon #3 and Lance Battery #2 got into a brawl for unknown reasons, leaving twelve dead. All in all, the launch went smoothly.
As the engines ignited, the Blackrock began to move slowly, leaving behind the Dark Mechanicus' Moon-class Cruiser and several Cobra-class Destroyers. The Blackrock started to break free of the planet's gravity and leave orbit.
The Captain made sure again and again that the Gellar Field had deployed, then waited for the Plasma Engine to finish charging. Barnabas checked repeatedly, without tiring of it. After all, their War Band had only one ship, and most of their battle-brothers were aboard. If something went wrong through his negligence, it would spell the end of their War Band.
As the Blackrock headed toward the Mandeville Point of the star system, it plunged into the tumultuous Warp, carrying fourteen dangerous individuals aboard. Their Warp journey had begun.
After the Blackrock entered the Warp, all observation windows were shut. Ordinary humans were forbidden from looking outside, on pain of being shot on the spot. The Warp was too twisted and terrifying; a mere glance was enough to corrupt and warp the minds of most ordinary humans. Peter and the others didn't care, of course. They had once lived on a daemon world and spent their days among countless daemons.
During the time they spent in the Warp, people aboard the Blackrock inexplicably found their belongings moved, heard whispers or weeping from inside the walls, or got lost in places they knew like the backs of their hands. But the ship's Geller Field kept running without a hitch, so the higher-ups paid it no mind. They assumed there were thieves about or someone from the next compartment over was responsible. As for anyone who got lost, a few rounds of the lash would sort them out.
After all, they were in the Warp now. It was better not to look too deeply into some things.
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