For dealing with the Crimson Tide Chapter, with whom they had done business for years, the "Outline for Negotiating with Evan," personally compiled by Archbishop Phinnis and supplemented by several Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus, had become the supreme operating standard throughout the organization. Every Tech-Priest had a copy.
The outline covered how to plead poverty and raise prices, how to counter Evan's habit of blocking their route and buying up all their metal, how to establish quantities precise down to the last unit during negotiations, and how to judge their opponent's bargaining chips from the deployment of his fleet...
Archbishop Phinnis perked up. A big order had arrived.
Ever since Mavrek's Adeptus Mechanicus had "returned to the Imperium," their business had dwindled considerably. At its peak, a Forge World could fulfill orders from thousands of planets, but now they had only twelve, and they had to compete with Mavrek's Adeptus Mechanicus for those.
At last, the Great Rift had ended. Now was the perfect time to compete for orders, the best opportunity to make money before those irritating fellows from the Imperium arrived waving IOUs.
Then the familiar great iron sphere in space stunned him.
Could my world... handle this order?
"Good morning, afternoon, and evening, Archbishop Phinnis."
"Greetings, esteemed Chapter Master Evan. It has been a long time. I have missed you dearly."
"We're old friends. You know I'm a blunt man, so I'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point. Conservatively speaking, I have the wrecks of over twenty Imperial warships this time. Can your Forge World handle them?" Evan sat in the familiar large chair, sprawled out with his limbs spread wide.
"That depends on what you wish to do with these wrecks. If you want them repaired, our large docks and shipyards could