Talent Shortage and the Black Crusade

After Peter returned to the Fortress Monastery, he was still troubled by the lack of skilled workers that the factory manager had mentioned earlier.

In fact, the entire planet was in a state of manpower shortage. The ships lacked mechanics capable of repairs, the factories lacked skilled workers, the schools lacked teachers adept at instruction, the Planetary Governor lacked bureaucrats with administrative experience, the cargo aircraft lacked enough pilots, and the barracks lacked instructors with systematic military theory.

This issue was most severe in the military. Sacks was, after all, only a battalion commander for an infantry unit. He could barely teach soldiers how to use guns and march, but when it came to logistics transport, battlefield coordination, field medicine, strategic planning, and the like, he was completely at a loss.

In short, every sector was demanding personnel. The lower decks slaves he had brought over were all already assigned to various industries across the planet, but it was merely a drop in the bucket.

Peter had considered one solution. Clone technology wasn't particularly rare. Within the Mechanicus and the Dark Mechanicus, including Tech-Priests, the Defender Army, and vast numbers of Servitors, all were clones.

Peter had once asked whether Daedalus could mass-produce clones and use the machines that had once hypnotically implanted knowledge into the "Rapid Deployment Army" to pour large amounts of knowledge into the clones' minds, batch-producing qualified workers.

But the Tech-Priests immediately rejected the proposal. They said that hypnotic suggestion or partial memory deletion was fine, but pouring vast, systematic knowledge into a mortal brain would cause mental collapse, producing only a bunch of madmen. Back then, the implantation targets were all Astartes, who could withstand it. Space Marines had minds tough enough to endure the torture of the hypnosis machine.

If this technology were so effective, the Imperium would have long used it to mass-produce soldiers, eliminating the need for military schools, Schola Progenium, and similar organizations. The Tech-Priests wouldn't need to study either; everyone could just directly hypnotize and implant knowledge.

So mortals still had to study year after year in schools, and mastering skills could only come through practice and hands-on experience.

The Tech-Priest told Peter that this problem was actually the easiest to solve. This planet had over ten million people, protected by the Astartes, well-fed and clothed, and an education system was being established. Thus, in just 24 generations—a mere 600 years—the planet's population could expand to ten billion. Six hundred years of development would also be enough to build any mature education system.

So all that was needed was time... The problem was that it was too long. How many 600-year spans did an Astartes have?

Peter was born on Olympia in Standard Terra Calendar 992.M30. Now it was Standard Terra Calendar 682.M31, so Peter was 690 years old?

Actually, that wasn't how it worked. After the Iron Cage Campaign, Peter entered the Eye of Terror with his Legion. He then garrisoned the daemon world Midgard and several surrounding planets. Time in the Warp was chaotic; a hundred years in realspace might be only a few months in the Warp. Fortunately, Peter kept his own count and determined he was 204 years old.

By Astartes standards, he was still quite young. But the problem was that being young didn't mean he could waste 600 years waiting for mortals to breed!

At this point, there was only one solution: "Take!"

But the question was, take from whom? Of course, from the Imperium. Yet another problem arose: backward worlds had little value to take, while overly advanced worlds were too heavily defended, and might not even be conquerable. Just as Peter opened the star map projection in his office, racking his brain over how to get his first big haul—

Bang bang bang bang bang bang!

A forceful knock came at the door, sounding like someone knocking on a coffin. Peter could guess who it was. Among mortals, the Planetary Governor and Sappho had to make appointments to see him. Anthony would just push the door open directly. Other brothers would knock politely.

Only one person knocked like this—some politeness, but not much.

Peter spoke:

"Filon, come in."

The black-faced Voidsmith opened the door, swaying a Dataslate in his hand as he walked to the desk.

The Voidsmith asked outright:

"Boss, I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

Peter felt like hitting him even more. He always thought letting him join the War Band had been a mistake:

"I don't want to hear either. I want to see the Dataslate first."

Peter didn't need to guess; the key was on the Dataslate. He reached out and took it, beginning to read the text.

Next year, Standard Terra Calendar 781.M31. Sons of Horus First Company Commander, Council of Four Kings member, Black Legion Warmaster, owner of the Vengeful Spirit, successor to Horus, the Great Reaver Ezekyle Abaddon, was about to launch a Black Crusade. You were cordially invited to join. If you were a brother, come to the Black Legion and join the Black Crusade!

"We return! Slay the False Emperor!"

Attached was a photo of Abaddon with his topknot, the Great Reaver flanked by Thousand Sons sorcerer Iskandar Khayon on the left and the Widowmaker Fakus Kaib on the right, looking quite imposing.

"What is all this? Like some cheap GG."

Peter stared at the information on the slate, his brow furrowed into a deep crease. Fortunately, the content wasn't hard to understand. Abaddon was launching a crusade against the Imperium.

Peter asked Filon:

"Abaddon's Black Legion is launching a Black Crusade! Says something about overthrowing the Imperium and slaying the False Emperor. How is that good news?"

Filon grinned wide and said:

"He sent a psychic message, inviting almost every War Band, including us. Said if we go, we can share the equipment."

Hearing "share the equipment," Peter perked up. The Neophytes still didn't have Power Armour to wear, and the only two extra sets came from two brothers who had fallen...

Peter continued:

"I get the good news. But what's the bad news?"

Filon kept grinning foolishly:

"Boss, you didn't notice the time."

Peter looked closely. Next year, Standard Terra Calendar 781.M31. Wait... 781.M31 was next year?

Peter looked up at the Voidsmith and asked:

"What time is it now?"

Filon quickly replied:

"22:16."

Peter felt even more like hitting him. Impatiently, he asked:

"The Terra Calendar."

Filon knew the boss was getting angry and hurriedly answered:

"780.M31, boss. The Warp Storm we passed through in this system just blew us ninety-eight years into the future."

Peter stroked his chin and thought for a moment before replying:

"That's not unexpected. The Maelstrom is a breeding ground for Warp Storms, after all—one of the reasons the Imperium can't control this region."

Filon asked the boss:

"So, are we joining this Black Crusade or not?"

Peter answered:

"Overthrowing the Imperium, slaying the Emperor for the Throne? That kind of thing holds no interest for us. We don't have any deep-seated grudge against the Imperium. If Abaddon wants to overthrow it, let him. We have no interest in that."

Peter shifted his tone:

"But... we do have an interest, and a strong one, in using the Black Crusade as an excuse to loot the Imperium."

Peter made up his mind:

"We'll follow Abaddon in. First, we collect our gear. Then we trail behind him, wave the banner, shout a few slogans. Once the fighting starts and the Imperium falls into chaos, we'll slip in and plunder a wave."

Filon slapped his chest:

"Got it! Boss, I've been waiting for you to say that."