Chapter Twenty-Six

Despite their spacious nature, Solomon had never felt so cramped in his quarters. Maybe it was the fact that he'd barely managed to get it cleaned up from a previous mess (courtesy of one governor) before he'd set out for this world, and now, after the battle was long done, he'd barely gotten it in some semblance of order before he'd "invited" his Mechanicus and Inquisitorial guests in for a good chat. With Syngra there as well, of course.

A few of their guards milled about, some standing at attention, others idling chatting in the corner or simply at the stuff he had. His senior officers were doing much of the same, some even swapping stories with what few goons didn't look like they were casing the place.

"So, you remember almost nothing of your childhood?" Triggerus asked. They'd talked for a long time already about his past, and other than the two voices in his head saying he had some grand destiny or duty (they made it sound like both), he'd told them pretty much everything he'd already told Syngra. Well, except for those two voices; he had an inkling anyone would think him crazy or possessed if he told them that, and try to capture or kill him on the spot.

"I remember a lot of little bits here or there, but frankly, most of it's just one big blur," Solomon said. "I can't even remember the faces of my family, or at least, their names. Sometimes things come to me, like watching a big thunderstorm, or a funeral of someone I never met, but it's not as often these days. Maybe sometime in the future, but right now… nothing concrete, and frankly, I'm okay with that. The past belongs in the past, and I need to focus on the here and now, more than ever before."

"So… you are telling me, you are from a time so completely removed from our own, that you know absolutely nothing of what has transpired between your last memory, of what I surmise to be a crash of some kind based on your description, and your awakening in the care of former Captain Ordacius?"

"That's what it looks like."

"So then how is it, despite being allegedly from so far in the past, that you are not only still able to use the technology we use, but have an innate ability to change it or develop it in ways we haven't?"

"Well, innovation isn't always easy, but when you've got a lot of time on your hands in-between fighting, making deals and trying to stay alive, you tend to come up with stuff. The list of bad or ill-thought out ideas of mine could fill one of my hangars, so what you see isn't the total accumulation of what I've tried to do. Besides, despite being in the future, the tech of mankind seems fairly… easy."

"Easy?" Baramus asked. "Easy how?"

"It's all so simple compared to what technology tries to make itself out to be. For starters, all the designs you use, no matter how old, all mesh together rather nicely, as if they were simply smaller portions of a larger collective. Everything is so interconnected and compatible that I'm amazed you have variants of a baseline model at all. The tech is literally able to be cut and pasted, or in this case welded or bolted, to pretty much any combination or configuration. Yet…"

"Yet?"

"There seems to be a complete lack of forward thinking when it comes to trying to improve what we already have. There are Imperium tank designs that have been out of date since well over half a century before my earliest memory. Most mech designs just aren't as strong or as reliable as they should be, given the amount of tech we have at our disposal. Our navy takes so long to replace losses that we're literally hanging on by a thread, and the design of so many of these ships is completely ludicrous. In my own time's comparison, it'd be like taking a luxury cruise ship and mounting weapons and armor on it, or doing the same thing to a farm vehicle; overall, even if it can work, it's not built for war at all. Many of the vehicles and ships of the Imperium need redesigns, some from the ground up."

"While your points may have some validation to them, there is little we can do with such facts," Baramus replied. "Working against the forces of countless xenos and whatever traitor forces rear their ugly heads is the biggest hurdle we face. The next, comparable in scope and just marginally lesser in cost, is keeping this Imperium running as smoothly as it does. We have no means of anything other than what we already have, hence our search for lost technology. We are forced to make do with what we have, having lost so much during the Age of Strife, and then the Horus Heresy."

"The second problem is more easily overcome than the first, but it doesn't take much to start improving what we can. For starters, based on what I've already made, agricultural output can be significantly increased. There are agriworlds that still harvest by hand; in this day and age, that's not just unacceptable, that's downright stupid."

"Your vehicle designs, while somewhat crude, do indeed carry with them a degree of superiority to what much of the Imperium has available," Triggerus replied. "Be that as it may, I do wonder what you expect to come of such inventions. The patents office of the Imperium is yet backlogged from the time of the Horus Heresy, and only the Mechanicus can deal with technology… barring present company's unique agreement, of course."

"Well, if it helps the Imperium, then that is what matters," Solomon said. "Besides, only I, and now you, have access to the designs. They aren't the best, I'll admit, but they're a damn sight better than what many planets have now. The basis for all war started as competition for resources, in our kind's original case, land: not rights, not politics, not religion, but the ability to grow or provide food for their own people, tribes at first, but later cities and kingdoms. Humans have always had an 'us' mentality, and even now, when we're surrounded by enemies of all manner and ferocity, we're still bickering over pointless bullshit. The basis for all human life is food, and the major drive for almost all advancement has been for making more food, or making food better. We make more food, we make it less likely for us to starve, and make more humans. We make more humans, we can fight the horrors of the galaxy better: strength in numbers only works if you have numbers to wield."

"So, your basic idea is to increase the Imperium's food supply. After that? You've mentioned much, and there is only so much that can be done for agriculture."

"I have other ideas for that, but they'll be years in the making, if I get everything right." In his mind's eye, Solomon saw fleets of ships, designed to produce, either through hydroponics or advanced aeroponics, cast quantities of food, to be stationed over whatever worlds struggle to make ends meet. They'd be massive, for sure, but stripped down enough that the needed crew would be relatively tiny, and overall needed resources relatively light. "The next biggest thing is resources. We have a galaxy at war, but also a galaxy brimming with raw materials."

"Yes?"

"So then tell me, why, oh why in the name of the Emperor, do people bicker over who gets to mine what to the point where wars break out between various factions? We're all human, I thought we were on the same side."

"War is a profitable venture for those who are able to seize control of what they need," Baramus said. "Mining rights to subsectors, systems and even planets are complex, intricate endeavors. Countless officials and administrators are needed to run operations of all sizes and shapes, and where a local government cannot handle the problem, the upper echelons of the Imperium's bureaucracy steps in."

"Regardless, while I don't really support the state simply seizing everything for the war effort, there needs to be better methods of producing what the Imperium needs to survive. As such, I've come up with something to assist in that endeavor." Pulling out his data compendium device, or DCD, he flicked the image on the screen several times, scrolling past a few designs, before reaching a large, skeletal structure. "This I what I'm trying to develop. Right now, it's smaller than I'd like it to be, but in the future, I can build larger ones, scaling almost indefinitely."

"What is it?" Triggerus asked. "It looks as if a factory was created to appear like a rib-cage."

"It is a ship, or better yet, a factory ship, designed to mine or process asteroids and all manner of space debris. Each one is small right now, but they can create basic mineral or chemical compounds from what they harvest, or in the case of a larger one, actually mass produce components needed for pretty much anything."

"How many crew does it take?" Baramus queried.

"Not very many, a few hundred at most, but likely less than that. They'll need a lot of servitors for the assembly process, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. These vessels meant to be very self-sufficient, even able to grow their own food, but they do require some supplies every few months, things they can't quite replace just yet. I have a few in the outer regions of the Mastuonus system, harvesting asteroids and comets, but in the long run, I'm looking to do so much more with them."

"Such as?"

"Imagine processing an entire asteroid, the processor surrounding it like the jaws of a snake, and from out the other end comes a ship, completely built, though far more efficient in both design and overall fighting ability. That is my end goal for these; to be able to mass-produce ships for the Imperium, and by proxy, myself. Holding a planet is good and all, but holding space is the first and foremost factor in protecting the Imperium. If we can rebuild or strengthen the Imperium's navy to the point where any enemy attacking it is difficult at best, and suicide at worst, then we should do so."

"You wish to mass produce ships? How will you crew them?"

"Recruiting on worlds is easy if you promise adventure and glory, especially if your ships aren't designed to hold tens of thousands of unneeded people and have more room than you can possibly use. I'm currently working on designing ships that are far more efficient in their overall build, but that's going to take some time, and possibly with your help, access to some ship schematics. I need to know what goes into ships before I can try and make them more military-minded."

"Such an endeavor will undoubtedly take time, even if you manage to not tread on the toes of every faction within the Imperium. Making completely new, untested and therefor unseen ships is bound for complications the likes of which I believe you cannot fathom. The first and foremost, of course, is making sure others in the Imperium don't shoot you on sight for manning what could appear to them to be a xenos vessel."

"Information and spreading the word is key to that, though I'll admit, it's going to take more than just time to deal with both the construction and word-of-mouth. My biggest hurdle is acquiring resources in droves, and right now, I'd rather build a fleet as quickly as possible, with some improvements or additions in mind. However, as Syngra explained to me, there is a potential solution for that."

"Which is?" Triggerus and Baramus asked together.

"Are there any defunct, out of commission, or derelict ships that would be able to be scavenged? Remnants of destroyed ships from battles, like the Pride of Othore, or ships that met with accidents and had to be disbanded, or scrapped, and are currently awaiting either salvage or refit?"

"There are countless ships scattered across the void of the galaxy, though some are more dangerous or difficult to reach than others," Triggerus replied. "Salvaging what we can is a big part of keeping the Imperium's fleet together, though it is often fraught with complications. I assume you have heard of space hulks?"

"Yeah, great masses of ships and space debris, often fused or tangled together, and a damn deathtrap if I'd ever bothered to try and come up with an image for its definition. I am not setting foot on any significant or even moderate space hulk until I have developed the means to fight what is in there." The voices in his head had warned him of dangers within space hulks that even space marine veterans dreaded, horrors from both the Warp and the dark, inky cold of space. There had to be some way of at least mitigating whatever losses he'd incur for trying to salvage or explore such a wreck.

Regardless of that, I doubt many worlds above which these remnants lie would be so willing to simply let someone take them away," Baramus said. "many are tokens of honor and evidence of the sacrifice made for the world below, and as such are the resting places of those who gave their lives for the Imperium."

"Lives are cheap in a galaxy at war, and I doubt that people would be okay with perfectly salvageable ships just orbiting their local star, not being used for the betterment of them all, or being rebuilt to serve once again. Rising from the ashes of death, reborn much like a phoenix."

"What's a phoenix?"

"A birdlike creature from ancient Earth mythology; it bursts into flame when it dies, and then is reborn from the ashes, essentially immortal."

"I see. A clever use of fire in imagery, though the prospect of how such a thing might occur is certainly up for debate."

Debate? It was mythology, not a long-extinct species. Solomon merely shook his head. "Back to the ships. How do I get more ships? I'll take whatever I can get at this point."

"Well, besides the crew, there is one incredibly important piece you are missing," Triggerus said. "You will need to curry favor with the Navigator houses. Without them, your ships will be unable to safely traverse the Immaterium, and your fleet, no matter how large it may grow, will be stuck in only a few systems forever. That's fine and good for defense fleets, as they usually don't need to go anywhere, but if you want to explore or set out on a campaign against an enemy, you'll need the mobility to do so."

"So I have to get on the good side of a bunch of sanctioned mutants whose sole purpose is to navigate great masses of ships through a literal hellscape without getting lost within. What do you propose I do to gain this favor?"

"I have many contacts, and I am certain I would be able to find you potential employment with them, should you wish to do so," Triggerus replied. "Baramus, what say you?"

"Obtaining the rights of salvage is not easy, but it is fairly doable, as are rights for exploration. You may have little need to heed most of the Imperium's laws, if the Imperium benefits from them, but there are laws that cannot be broken, no matter what. These laws can be… bent, in your case, so long as you continue to fulfill the promises we have made here today. However, your mere word and my recordings, as well as the notes of your assistant will not appease most of my order. They will require something a bit more."

"Such as? I'm literally giving you guys almost everything I've made, have, or plan on making."

"You could give us your word that you will not incite planetary revolts for mere profit, nor lead rebellions in territory you do not have a stake in," Baramus said. "Especially on mechanicus worlds. We do not take kindly to meddlers in our affairs."

"Fine, fine, I won't raid or incite anything on any mechanicus world, captain's honor," Solomon said in a huff. Better not tell them about the coup he staged earlier... "Anything else?"

"If there happen to be any developments on or near our worlds, your help will be most appreciated," Baramus continued. "This is a relatively quiet portion of the Imperium, as hard as that is to believe given its current state, but with outside forces, we might be able to get more done if the person doing it doesn't have an official Imperium badge of authority. Whatever power that is yours can be more influential than local currency, and far more valuable to maintain."

"So, do stuff for you mechanicus guys as well, and you'll help me out with the ships?"

"As much as I can, though I will have to run this by my superiors, and they will have to finalize any transactions. Speaking of which, I should communicate this with them as soon as possible, they will surely wish to hear about these developments."

Abruptly, and without so much as an apology or an excuse, the adept just up and left, half his retinue following him out of the captain's quarters. About half of his senior officers followed them out, to ensure they didn't fiddle with anything or go where they weren't supposed to. Solomon had made sure to be clear on that last part.

Solomon turned to Triggerus. "What say you? What else do you want from me in exchange for our partnership?"

"Baramus may have ideas of what you can do for him, but you will be in much deeper trouble if you do not do the same for me and my organization, among others," was the reply. "He was correct in mentioning that someone outside of usual Imperium jurisdiction can help speed along processes and take care of… problematic situations. However, due to all the favors I owe to the Administratum, some of their problems will become yours, when I contact you next."

Solomon made to say something, but the man cut him off.

"Don't be so surprised at all you'll be roped into, captain. The deal you're a part of is extraordinary, even in these extraordinary times. Believe me when I say you'll be very busy for a very long time. I doubt you'll want to not be, given all you'll stand to gain from your cooperation."

"So, I'm an errand boy now, not only for the Inquisition, but also for the Adminsitratum, the Mechanicus and the Navigator houses, and whoever else wants a piece of me," Solomon replied. "Anyone else I haven't mentioned? The Sororitas and the reforming Ecchlesiarchy? Space Marine Chapters? Imperial Guard regiments? The Custodes? Random hobos on hive worlds?"

"Some of those, more so than others," Triggerus said simply. "Now then, I too must make contact, though my colleagues will be more open to aiding you in your quests than the Mechanicus, should you keep our little secret, well, a secret. That, or I could just shoot you, should you try to weasel out of it."

Solomon had no doubt that'd be the nicest thing that would happen to him if he tried to back out now. "I'll keep that… friendly warning in mind, Inquisitor," he said.

"Then I must bide your farewell, for now," Triggerus said, and with a flourish, both he and the remnants of his retinue filed out, leaving behind Solomon and Syngra, the rest of the ship's officers following them as well. Syngra turned to Solomon, her autoquill mechandrite attachment finishing up the very last of a long series of scribbles, and a curious expression gracing her face.

Solomon faced her fully. "Well?"

"Well what?" Syngra replied.

"How do you think it went?"

"Honestly? Much better than I expected, even after the initial agreement," she said. "They didn't ask for the location of your base, or a list of all your assets, or even to be inducted as a Mechanicus or Inquisitorial agent. I'd say that's a fairly good start."

"They could change that deal at any time."

"Indeed. However, for the time being, we've hit a good streak of luck, and let's try and keep it that way."

"Syngra?"

"Yes, Solomon?"

"Did I ever tell you that you're literally my best friend in this whole galaxy?"

She smiled. "Once or twice, I believe. I'd like to hear that from time to time, if you don't mind; nobody else thinks of me quite like that."

"Well, never forget that you are literally the most indispensable person I have, bar none. I'm not sure where I'd be or how sane I'd be right now if not for you and your help. Even though it already has, far more than I'd like, I would prefer if things didn't get any more complicated."

It was at that moment that the prioress strode into his personal quarters, unarmed and for once without an escort of her cronies, but appearing rather upset, her head hanging low, which was so unlike her. Judging from how she simply threw herself into the chair across from him, and the stray hairs adorning her normally-kempt silver hair, he had to guess something had happened to greatly upset her. There was even a slight puffiness around her eyes, as if she had been… crying?

Better to get to the bottom of this, before something bad happened again. "Miss Absinthia, is there something I can help you with?"

The look she gave him sent an unusual chill up his spine. Something was very, very wrong…

Meanwhile…

"Make sure the DCDs are loaded properly into the shuttle."

"Yes sir."

Triggerus turned away from the stormtroopers, hopeful that the DCDs were tougher than they looked. He didn't trust at least one of his troops to not drop one, and seeing as they were still unexplored in their entirety, he'd prefer them to remain undamaged until he could probe into all their secrets. After all, what was the point in agreeing to help the captain if he didn't benefit immediately, and immensely, at that? These devices could be an Emperor-sent blessing for the Imperium, if they both worked as intended and could allow for quick rebuilding of vehicles it could take months to repair otherwise.

"Inquisitor?" a voice said from behind him.

He turned, his hand instinctively latching onto the butt of his bolter pistol. The figure was shrouded in a robe, undecorated, save for a large, utterly familiar symbol hanging from a necklace. If not for the slight form-fitting nature of the robes, it would have been near-impossible to discern this was a woman.

"An agent of the Inquisition?" he asked, more surprised than he thought he'd be. "Here I was beginning to think our organization did not have any tabs on the captain, and that searching for him was going to take forever."

"Indeed it has not, though my hand cannot be played before its time," the figure replied, the voice sounding familiar and yet distinctly unique, as if from a different segmentum of the galaxy. "The captain has been performing admirably, even with my influence sending him towards the exact place you'd be most likely to find him. He hasn't come here on his own, or has he grown as he has without… help."

"You have sway over him?" Any fellow Inquisitor that had failed to mention this to Triggerus before, when he had asked around, was either settling in for a power play the likes of which could be astronomical, or was currently trying to recruit Solomon to their own pockets. Either way, so long as the Inquisition remained strong, Triggerus didn't care… at least, not much. He still wasn't happy he couldn't be the one fully recruiting the captain.

"I have his ear, yes, but I let him make many of his own decisions while still keeping an eye on him. He is… unique, for all his flaws, in that he is, deep down, good. It's been a long time since I've seen someone resembling him, and they didn't have what he has."

"Which is?"

"A passion, a drive for mankind that would make him a saint to many and a dangerous rival to many more." She paused. "I trust the proper people will receive the devices he has created for us?"

"Indeed they will, though I can't say the same for the Mechanicus," Triggerus replied. "Baramus will certainly send these to the largest or most influential forgeworlds he can, but for them to reach the council on Mars-,"

"That will not be possible," the figure said. "While you were coming aboard, I received an encrypted message through his astropath, Pontius. Things have escalated to a point they have never been before, and everything that was set in stone has been thrown into disarray. All of the plans, events and timetables are strewn far and wide, to the point where new ones shall have to be drawn up, and hopefully put into action."

"What do you mean, new plans? Is Solomon up to something? Is his agreement throwing a wrench into the plans of an Inquisitor I did not know of?" Triggerus did not like not knowing what was going on, almost as much as he hated orks. It made him upset, and when he was upset, he started craving recaf and suffering from a severe case of itchy trigger finger.

"The Imperium is reeling harder than ever before from a catastrophe we are only beginning to comprehend. It is in the opinion of myself, and those that sent me, that time is no longer an asset we have the luxury of using, and as of right now, Solomon is one of the best hopes we have."

"Best hope? For what?"

"Survival."

Meanwhile…

Massive psychic trauma is nothing new to Eldar. Many have felt backlashes of immense scope and significance, especially the more in-tune Seers and Farseers. Teltyra felt it as plain as day when the planet holding back the terrible reality hole that was the birth of Slaanesh fell, and in doing so, unleashed a wash of corruption and destruction across a huge swath of the galaxy. As it stood now, her craftworld was undoubtedly still under siege, but Ulthwe had been so for a very long time, so she had no doubt they would hold out for longer yet, still caught in the orbit around that maw. Now, she was aboard the ship of a human somehow connected to their very creator, or so she hoped beyond hope, and he was no longer on the right side of his kind. Now, thanks to the machinations of traitorous mon'keigh warriors and their dark gods, the Imperium was split in twain, and Solomon was not on the safer side.

She needed to contact Ulthwe, and fast, before everything she had fought and sacrificed for was rendered null by the oncoming storm. Sitting in complete silence under the leaves of a terrarium tree, she turned inside herself and began to concentrate. If she was lucky, and Slaanesh didn't horribly violate and then steal away her soul, she would be able to contact those who had sent her, and request for whatever forces they could spare. Normally specialized runes could be used for this, but she didn't have any, and would have to concentrate harder than ever before.

Time was not on their side; since the Fall, time was never on the side of the Eldar. Now, it seemed, the mon'keigh were as well running out of time.

(Timeskip)

Weeks passed, and then those weeks transitioned into months, before the repairs were completed. Solomon spent almost all his time either directing new projects or contacting as many worlds as he could with Pontius, intent on focusing on what he could or could not do. The impossible had happened, the one thing he doubt anyone had counted on had occurred.

Cadia had fallen. The troops had not, they had held out and held on until the most bitter of ends, yet the planet itself had finally given up, tectonic surges rendering it indefensible because of the actions of the attacking traitor forces, and with the loss of it and the pylons it was so famous for, a great rift had opened across the galaxy, nearly bisecting the Imperium as it connected with other Warp rifts. Solomon knew he was now cut off from a good portion of his goals, and trying to increase the strength of some of the innermost regions of the Imperium was no longer feasible, given their proximity to the storms raging in space. Trying to travel through those Warp Storms was as intelligent as trying to teach an ork to lay down his weapons, live in peace and take um embroidery.

Whatever he had left was either bound to run into trouble or was in trouble as it stood. In many worlds across the regions he had formerly thought as safe buffer zones, there were rebellions, chaos-influenced or not, greenskin uprisings or invasions, and the threat of terrible, nightmarish monstrosities from beneath the ground and from beyond the stars awakening and advancing.

He needed to grab the level and dial things up to eleven. There was no way he was going to just sit by and try to wait out this storm, he didn't have the time and neither did mankind. No, with much of the communication and travel cut off from a good half of the Imperium, he was going to have to use every resource he could, and implement whatever he could, wherever and whenever he could, to try and make things better.

He only hoped he wouldn't be too late. As it stood, he had power, yes, and even friends in a few places, but to make more friends, and to gain more power, he needed the trust and backing of countless citizens of the Imperium. He needed to earn that, and to do that, he'd need to do things for them; build up their defenses, increase their prosperity, defend them from adversity, and shield them from the coming terrors of a galaxy truly descending into madness.

The first order of business was twofold; immediately distributing the vehicles he had developed that could increase crop yields on whatever planets still grew crops, and immediately get to work on finding and refitting derelict or run-down ships. He would need a fleet before he needed an army, and he couldn't get an army anywhere if he didn't have the means of moving them through space. On top of that, most of troops were completing their training, but outside of his original, slowly-dwindling complement, absolutely none of them had any sort of combat experience. That needed to change if he was going to deal with any sort of larger enemy forces.

The second was establishing contact with whatever space marine chapters he could. More than a few had responded to his hails with an appreciation for assistance, though a few had seemed reluctant to accept any help he could provide. A few of the smaller ones, those whose numbers had been devastated in past years, were more welcoming than most, and as of now, there was a small fleet of nearly-extinct chapters headed right for his moon base of Talmanjir. With any luck, he'd be able to greet them personally, and maybe give them some new equipment to replace what they had lost… so long as they didn't suddenly call him out for heresy or something.

Meanwhile, he'd managed to make contact, at the bequest of Prioress Absinthia, with a small covenant of Order Hospitallier, who had been on a fleet bound for Cadia, had been forced to turn around when terrible Warp storms had decimated a portion of their fleet, and the remnants were unable to pass through to the Terran side of the Imperium. As it would seem, this same fleet had merged with that of the admiral who had met Solomon on Mastuonus Primus, one Deiad Gillmer. Many worlds along the route they were being forced to navigate did not have the adequate facilities to repair their ships, but in one system, they did.

Caloris Secundus, a major Mechanicus world, which Baramus had informed him he'd be able to retrofit his ship with all the necessary upgrades he wished, so long as he personally gave the governor there a DCD. It was here he'd also be able to find a larger ship builder, the plans for which he needed desperately, if he was going to start on his fleets.

He'd have to find some means of getting on the good side of whatever Navigator houses were around these parts, seeing as many of them were on Terra. Maybe he'd talk with his Navigator on the matter. Every member of a Navigator house was instructed from birth as to both their importance and utter frailty in the Imperium, seeing as they were distrusted at best and ready to be hunted down for being mutants at the worst of times. The fact they had the power and influence they now did was a testament to their importance to the Imperium, and right now, Solomon knew he'd need the help of whatever member of that freaky inbred clan of mutants he could get. Not that he'd ever call them that, of course.

However, as for Caloris Primus and the ships he needed, getting to them was not going to be easy. The entire world was gripped in a protracted conflict with feral ork tribes, and now, with the influence of the Warp reaching out further than before, a rebellion was forming. He had no doubt it was chaos influenced, and thus he needed to do something about it before the world fell, and yet another world of man was gone. Plus, if he could help the locals rebuild and repair what they had lost, as well as shore up everything he could, then getting their help in the grand scheme of things would be all the easier.

He sighed as he returned to the bridge for the first time since they had set out for the edges of the Othore system, Syngra by his side as per usual. The corvettes had been repaired as well, and as they reached the periphery of the system, a moment of silence was held for those lost in the battle so many months before. He couldn't stand to keep losing his troops like this, without the means of readily replacing them. Experience beat numbers whenever foes were evenly matched, but in the case of this galaxy, numbers usually won the day. Now, as the last of his corvettes began to attach themselves to his hull once more, he returned to his seat.

All around, the bridge crew were working at a frenzied pace, getting ready for the trip to their next destination. The ships and peoples of Othore had thanked him for his assistance, and the governor had pledged to designate Othore as a haven for him, should he ever need them. Solomon knew setting up a garrison to serve as liaison would be the best bet, but he didn't have the means to do it just yet. All he could hope was that the relatively meagre factorums on the planet would be able to pump out some equipment for the population to use in the coming fight. They, and he, would need all the help they could get.

He turned to Syngra, but the light of the mechanicus warship flanking him caught his eye. The Inquisitor and Adept had more or less scrounged through whatever creations he had during the past few months, thankfully staying away from the terrariums. He didn't want anything more to happen to his guests than he would want his "partners" to find out about them. There was only so much he could do and get away with before he started finding himself in the crosshairs and on many a faction's shit list…

"Captain?"

He blinked, focusing back on his techpriestess. "Yes, Syngra?"

"We are ready when you are, sir."

"Syngra?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think our chances are?"

"Of accomplishing your goals?"

He gave a small bark of a laugh. If not for it being inappropriate to his sensibilities, and being more or less pledged to Delvidia as an ally and lover, Solomon would have considered Syngra a potential soulmate. As such, he was glad she was his friend, and nothing more, as he preferred her to be his confidant and equal. It made things easier for him that way. "I was thinking more along the lines of what our chances for survival are."

"Well, to this point, your chances have been fairly slim," she said. "As for the rest of us, marginally less so, myself included. However, you have managed to come this far, sir, and have done things most others would have died even thinking about. You are building up the Imperium, rediscovering and innovating technology once again, making deals with those that would gladly see you enslaved to their will or simply killed, and trying to right wrongs and bring peace on a scale few have imagined. So, in short, your chances of continued success are extremely slim, as are your survival chances, but then again, you're still here, in spite of all your adversity."

"Thanks, I think," he replied. "So, think we have a shot?"

"I'd say yes, if I understand that colloquialism correctly. We do indeed have a chance to make things better."

Solomon smiled. "Then signal the engineers, we're setting out for the Caloris system, and make sure to give the navigator an extra ration of that fruit we got from Othore. I'd like him to be in a good mood once we arrive, as I'll have need of his contacts."

"As you wish, sir."

Solomon stared out balefully into space, as the calculations for their Warp jump wound down. The mechanicus warship, doing much the same, sidled up to them, a "friendly" escort now, and a search party only a few months ago. How times had changed, and now times were changing again.

Solomon only hoped he'd be there to see them change for the better, and if possible, make that happen himself.

Soon enough, a rift into the Warp appeared in front of them, and with the Gellar fields thankfully running as smoothly as before, the Terra's Scion cast itself into the void, winking out as it set out for its destination, the ship of Adept Baramus and Inquisitor Triggerus following close behind.

A/N: well, this took a lot longer to write than I expected, but what with work overtime for the past month and a half, inherent laziness, a lack of motivation due to a small amount of sleep deprivation due to a continuously crazy work schedule, the weather, and a large list of other projects, I'm glad I could sit down and finish this chapter. It's been a good while, nearly as lengthy as the time before, but I feel I should be able to put out at least one chapter every month now, if nothing gets in the way of that. No promises though.

In the future, I also plan on going back to some earlier chapters and tidying them up a bit, if only to make them more up-to-par with what I'm writing now. This includes detail fixes, spelling errors, tidying up dialogue, adding in details, and maybe a few viewpoints or two. I'll know when I work on the chapter specifically, and I'll let you readers know whenever a new chapter comes out which ones I've touched up.

On another note I've recently, at the suggestion of a reviewer, been compiling a codex of Solomon's gear, vehicles and the like for those who are interested. I'm by no means an artist, but eventually, when I have a good amount of wargear amassed, I'll likely publish it on my deviantart account, the same place I published chapter 22.5 of this story (and where future NSFW chapters will be published). In the meantime, leave a review or send me a PM with your thoughts, concerns, hopes and ideas for this story. I'm always open to feedback and criticism if it'll help me make this story better.