NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter One Hundred and Seventy
After our meal, we move to the sitting room.
Alpia says, “Dad, did you really walk through the whole ship in a silly shirt, shorts, and sandals?”
“Yep.”
“I can’t decide if I am embarrassed or impressed,” says Luan. “You must be one of the few people who doesn’t notice when it’s minus twenty degrees and they don’t have their undersuit on.”
“Oh I noticed, but I don’t feel it. It is funny seeing everyone's faces though. As I’m their boss, none of them know how to react.”
Dareaca chuckles, “That’s so evil.”
“Just a bit of fun. Talking of fun, I have something to show you all.” I retrieve the null box from my stomach and open it. A tiny flex of psychic power pulses outwards and there is a small flash of golden light. I freeze.
“Was that not supposed to happen?” says Alpia.
“No. I’m going to check this in another room in the new vault Brigid had installed then I will come back. Get the bodyguards in here just in case.”
I take the null box to the vault and finish opening it. Rather than the Warrant and my Space Marine wargear manufacturing certificate, only the Warrant of Trade remains. The Warrant has changed. It is slightly larger and thicker. The aura of power and oppression emanating from the Warrant has increased dramatically. It is warm to the touch and dazzles my third eye when I try to inspect the Warrant through the Warp. I connect to it remotely and see what has changed.
I groan, “I’ve been scammed.”
All of Modren’s data has been wiped, which is annoying, but I’ve read through it all so it hasn’t been lost. I can still send out some expeditions to loot all caches, or take over his facilities, so long as the Inquisition doesn’t beat me to them.
The good news is that this is now a greater Warrant of Trade and is valid throughout the whole Imperium. It’s also signed by all twelve High Lords of Terra, which is probably why I was given the previous certificate, as well as the Emperor himself. To almost everyone in the Imperium I am politically untouchable, with a rather massive caveat.
The new obligations connected to this Warrant are a disaster. To maintain the Warrant I am obligated to outfit all Imperial forces in the Koronus Expanse and I do not have a Forge World yet. Actually leaving the Koronus Expanse and making use of my Warrant when I have such a spectacular burden is going to be incredibly difficult as the only people who could legally represent me are Brigid and my kids.
Brigid could certainly handle it, but I wouldn’t want to leave her behind. My kids are at least a decade away from being able to represent me. Quaani is capable of expeditions, but if I want to establish proper trade routes, I really have to be the one to go as he can’t prove who he is representing without me being there for the first visit.
While this is incredibly annoying, it isn’t unsurmountable. It will chain me here for decades though, if not centuries. I really can’t afford that, as I have a bunch of stuff I need to collect before the Cicatrix Malledictum forms.
To further add insult and bait, the Warrant contains the location of a lost Ark Mechanicus to be gifted to me as a flag ship and help me meet my manufacturing obligations. Seems great right?
It’s in Tau territory.
The treacherous blue menaces have hidden it away and are probably trying to crack open its STC, or have already done so.
The main issue though is that it’s not just me who’s been scammed, but the Fabricator General of Mars, Oud Oudia Raskain, as well.
The Treaty of Mars means that the Adeptus Mechanicus is responsible for any and all technology, manufacturing, and construction within the Imperium of Man. In return, all technological data belongs to them and, in practice, they can do whatever they like to maintain their monopoly so long as they keep feeding the Imperial war effort.
The key part here is that, because of the treaty, the Adeptus Mechanicus is their own distinct polity and only answer to themselves. They do not actually answer to the Emperor. The holder of a Warrant get’s their authority from the Emperor, not the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Yet here I am, posing as a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, to the point where no one could say otherwise, and I am responsible for the production of Imperial war material, like a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus should, but I must answer to the Emperor, not to Mars.
This Warrant implicates the High Lords of Terra, including the Fabricator of Mars, as breaking the Treaty of Mars. It also provides the Emperor with a way of demanding war material without having to go through the Adeptus Mechanicus. Technically, because I am not a real member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, it doesn’t break the treaty, but only the Emperor knows that.
That isn’t what it looks like and I can’t say otherwise without breaking my ‘origin story’ and ruining all credibility and authority that I have. That would make it impossible to maintain the obligations of the Warrant, and then I’d have nothing. I can’t wield the power of my Warrant with impunity either lest someone with enough clout demands to see it and notices the discrepancy.
Should the High Lords of Terra, especially the Fabricator General, find out about this, they will try and assassinate me. All my works and family would be obliterated too, to cover up this mistake. The High Lords could also try and claim the Warrant is false, but that would be really hard as the Emperor has signed it and this is now a holy artefact.
That, in turn, might rile the Ecclesiarchy if they find I have a holy object. There’s even a chance they could try and call me a Saint, something I absolutely want to avoid as such belief might provide an avenue for the Emperor to exert more control over me.
It turns out that my dream, like everything in 40k, is a poisoned chalice. Decades of work and hope towards escaping this shitty place and the greatest symbol of freedom in the Imperium has become my collar.
Well played Big E, you absolute motherfucker.
I don’t have to advertise the obligations within, but if I keep saying yes to every request, people are eventually going to realise that I am an opportunity. My only partial out is that this obligation is not a Tithe. Worlds pay Tithes, not Rogue Traders. To do otherwise would be anathema to the essence of a Warrant of Trade.
That means I am not required to provide aid for free, only that aid must be provided. This is not dissimilar from the agreement I have with the Barghest chapter, it just extended to all Imperial forces. Normally, to be able to provide that level of aid, I would need a Forge World, and then I would need to provide all that gear for free, as the Administratum could slap me with a massive Tithe.
Origami-Pattern Mobile Shipyards can produce huge amounts of war material though. So long as I do not officially claim a planet, I am safe from unreasonable taxes. Unfortunately, I currently have a claim on Marwolv and Haddon’s Throne. If I am unlucky, an impossible Tithe will be placed on those planets and I’ll have to use my mobile output to make up the difference.
In other words, even if I try and wriggle out of it, the Imperium would get its due. No matter what I do, I have no doubt that Imperial forces will receive messages from Terra that they can come to me to get kitted out.
I can keep those worlds or give them up and avoid jumping into another potential trap.
I am so pissed!
Hopefully the bribes I will have to shell out to the Administratum to avoid an inappropriate Tithe are lower than the difference between the Tithe they actually give me and the one they could give me.
I send the all clear to my bodyguards and once they leave our sitting room I return to my family and explain the situation to them.
“Well, that’s quite the pickle, Love,” says Brigid.
Dawn Garnet growls. I scratch her under her chin and she settles down.
“I take it we’re not giving up our planets,” says Dareaca.
“Not a chance,” says Luan. “Haddon’s Throne is the ultimate resource depot, right Dad?”
“Yeah, that’s correct.”
“How so?” says Dareaca. “And have you told Quaani yet? Shouldn’t he be here for a family discussion?”
“I’ve messaged him, but he’s in the middle of something. I’ll talk to him privately afterwards. As for why Haddon’s Throne is so important, Fial looks like he’s bursting to tell us.”
Fial clears his throat, “It’s about temperature. As Haddon’s Throne is a frozen wasteland and is rich in hydrocarbons, as well as being next to a gas giant. It offers a unique opportunity to store vast quantities of promethium, hydrogen, and other gases safely, and more importantly, cheaply. We can let the environment freeze everything for free. That means minimal evaporation with a negligible chance of explosions and fires. We would only reliquify what we are using, and could potentially move and store most fuels and gases in frozen blocks without even needing to build containers.
“Not only that, because of our new understanding of Tithes, and how they play into the carbon trade, Haddon’s Throne represents a rare opportunity to export huge quantities of algae and other hydroponic goods, as well as fertilisers, chemicals, and plastics. With all the wraithbone hulls we captured, we can also produce the exotic fuel required for Warp drives as well, a particularly scarce resource in the Koronus Expanse. Warp fuel would be our lure to bring in other merchants for other goods. Sustainability of Warp fuel production can come from our Moth-Class vessels.”
Alpia chuckles, “You sound like Dad.”
Fial shrugs and blushes slightly.
“Thank you for the excellent explanation, Fial,” I say.
“Yes, well done, Sweet Pea,” says Brigid. “We still need to find a loophole in this Warrant though. Your poor Father is panicking too much to come up with one, so it’s up to us. Now might be the time to come clean with what your plans were before we got the Warrant Aldrich.”
“I feel slightly put upon here, but you're right. The original plan was to slowly take over the SR-651 Breaking Yards. This would give us significant control over the Koronus Expanse as we would be providing the best ships and the best components. It would also encourage everyone to use Stellar Requisition Credits, giving us a subtle hold over everyone and binding the Koronus Expanse and all the traders together with mutual interest. Meanwhile, we would get rich as everyone brought their scraps, archeotech, and STCs to us.”
Dareaca whistles, “Wow, Dad. That’s ambitious.”
“Aren’t the Yards supposed to be cursed?” says Luan. “People have tried to take over them before.”
I nod, “The key here is subtle control. According to Quaani, there are seven cartels and eleven gangs that control the SR-651 Breaking Yards. The cartels control the void ship slips and the gangs are the ship breakers, though that’s somewhat generalising the situation. It’s not that clear cut and there are a lot of shifting alliances and minor players. I was planning on setting us up as another of the options.
“I wanted to start by renting some slips from the cartels and using those to build new Origami-Class Mobile Shipyards. Iron Crane would spend that time setting up specialised yards and manufactorums for specific models of void ships. This will save huge amounts of time as we can build up a library of components and specialised machinery to build specific hulls.
“My initial plan should cut production times for Nova-Class Frigates from two years to one year. That will let us meet our obligations to the Barghest Chapter with ease and tempt other chapters to come and trade with us.
“The end goal is six months for an escort vessel and to gradually expand the types that we produce, starting with the Nova-Class and expanding to the Adder and Sword-Class. At this point the Cartels will be rather annoyed, but not able to really do much about it with Space Marines, Imperial Navy, and Rogue Traders scrutinising them.
“That’s when we offer them to become subcontractors. We keep the production of our high grade components in house, but offer retraining, equipment, and better amenities to them. So long as they pass inspection, they can sell their refurbished ships in our name, giving them a legitimacy that they lack.
“We keep control of our technology and our name means they can set higher prices. The buyers get better ships. As a bonus, their workers won’t have to slum it in leaking cockpits and cracked hulls anymore. We wouldn't own the yards, per se, but everyone would know to whom they owe their prosperity to.
Alpia smirks, “I didn’t know you were that sneaky. Dad, you’ve completely upended my view of you!”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” says Brigid, poking Alpia’s ribs.
Alpia yelps, “Mum!”
“Now,” says Brigid, “I am going to need to talk to you about our internal currency if you want to pull that off, but I do think it’s a good plan.”
“Thank you, Brigid,” I say.
Dareaca rubs his chin, “Dad, the problem here, as I see it, is that you're planning decades, even centuries in advance. That’s cool and all, but the problem is we need to get out of the Koronus Expanse as quick as possible to get that Ark Mechanicus and other technologies before Cadia falls again. Taking over the Breaking Yards though, to meet our obligations, is impossible without splitting the Fleet, which is bad. This is what has you in a tizzy.”
“That’s the long and short of it, yeah.”
“Right, so, what’s this?” Dareaca taps the Warrant lying on the recaf table.
I raise an eyebrow, “Our family Warrant.”
“Uh, huh, and what do Rogue Traders do?”
“Ooooh!” says Alpia. “I get it.”
“Trade?” I say.
Luan face palms, “Dad, you don’t have to make everything. You can buy the ships we need and refit them.”
I chuckle, “Oh boy. I can’t believe I missed that.”
“Look, Dad,” says Dareaca. “We can drop off a contingent at the Yards and they can get started on a part of your plan, either building new Origami, or new yards. New Origami would be best, as they take decades to build, and you could leave the new ships behind to get repaired and refitted as well, then send some of them back to guard Haddon’s Throne. Next we go on a ‘Pilgrimage’ to all the major Forge Worlds in the Imperium where we trade our STCs to get what we need to meet our obligations to the Space Marines.
“We can even start our trip from The Lathes to announce what we are doing and grab a bunch of self-important people who want to do the same thing and have them pay for our trip. This will give a chance to offer the Kin there, who apparently have no idea where they are from, to return to the Leagues of Votann. If our ‘Pilgrimage’ just so happens to take us past Kin territory, I’m sure they’ll be delighted we have returned their people, or at least put them in contact with them.
“After we leave Tigrus and head to Accatran and Metalica, we can do so via Tau territory and nab the Ark Mechanicus. If between now and then we could have Róisín ‘rediscover’ the Hunter Shell that they lost when they were overrun by the Orks in M35, Tigrus might even be happy enough to help us with our smash and grab in Tau territory.”
“That’s an excellent plan,” I say. “Hunter Shells have been on the bottom of my list of projects since Marwolv, but I stopped looking into them after the Leman Russ E came out with its expanded hunter-killer missile magazine. Handing the project off to Róisín is a much better idea. Does anyone have anything else to add?”
“How are we going to handle Mars?” says Alpia.
“I’m not sure,” I say. “Our best bet is to hide that we have a Warrant and for me to get a promotion to Arch-Magos through our trading. We have a long time to come up with a better idea though. Brigid?”
“This is going to take a lot of thought. I don’t have a better idea right now.”
“Ah,” says Luan, “I have a sneaky plan to add to Dareaca’s idea.”
“Alright. Let’s hear it,” I say