Decades have passed since I last visited Forge Tigrus, so when I appear in the system I don't get a warm welcome.

Hah. Warm welcome...like laser hot.

There are a dozen of my cheap corvettes patrolling the system outer edge, and they show signs of repair. Melted holes barely patched and missing the normal ornaments of the Imperial Navy.

Even my cruiser has a cathedral on top, because it's the fashion.

A pair of space fighters come about and escort me into dock, refusing to discuss the cold treatment.

Could it be they figured it out? That I stole their atomantic reactor design?

If Gyron was here he would know.

"Lord Ludvaius, what are our chances if the Mechanicus are hostile?" I ask in private.

He just stares at me. For a minute.

That bad, huh?

We land to meet the Fabricator, but are received by a Fabricator_Locum instead. And she's a lady...even has a human face.

"Lord Pef...I heard you have risen in rank, even an Astartes bodyguard." she begins with a wave of tentacles.

"We fought the Orks at the Battle of Antax. Now we're good friends." I explain nothing.

Blood Angels have a single friend: Duty.

The marine chuckles amused and waves a hand back at the robot lady.

"Nice powers weapons...from Metalica I'd say." she continues with a glacial voice.

Shit! She knows...somehow. Or something.

"This time I returned to the Empire directly here to Forge Tigrus, Fabricator. I have a few STC templates as a gift, and a few relics on board the cruiser. No idea what they are, but they bear the cog sign, so they are obviously Mechanicus weapons of some kind. The hangar has been sealed and quarantined." I say and hold out a physical data storage for my templates.

Interfacing directly with a dubious cogitator that might be hostile would be ill-advised. See, I can learn.

The Magos scans the device with a dozen instruments, before plugging into it directly. A few second later, she smiles a little, perhaps satisfied with my meager gift.

"More low quality designs, though perhaps useful for the Astra Militarum. Clever fix for the Manticore re-loading problem." she adds with a knowing look.

So...the game is up, I guess. They figured out what I do...after dozens of simple templates spread out among Forge Worlds from a single source...the generous Rogue Trader with a state-of-the-art cruiser.

I can never admit to it though, not to some unknown tech-priest. They will never find my body, and probably my Astartes friend's as well.

"Well then. Should I go, or do you want those other gifts?" I ask in a meeker voice.

The Fabricator stares at me for a long minute, although she's most likely relaying my offer to other people.

"She will join the inventory team in an hour. Until then...you drink tea?" the Magos asks politely and starts a complicated tea ritual with too many tentacles.

The tea is nice though. I doubt the Cult would bother to poison me, not when I'm at their mercy anyway.

Even Ludvaius drinks some tea, and holds his thumb up to assure me it's not radioactive or such.

"This woman...happens to be an Inquisitor?" I wonder out loud, after straining my implant for a few minutes.

I might be lucky...but I just wished for an Inquisitor of my own.

The Magos lady glances at the implant ports visible on my skull. "So you have brains after all. Don't worry, she wasn't hunting you. But as you're here and have a ship available..."

The Astartes pats my head like someone would a cat. "Lord Pef is rather important for my Chapter. I will decide where and when he goes."

Now, this is something strange. Even Blood Angels wouldn't...of course they would. They just need a big enough reason, like I have just provided with my beacon plan.

The metal door opens to reveal a fabulous black-haired woman in Inquisitor garb, followed by two other Astartes, in black armor.

Deathwatch marines. Damn it.

"Please, Sergeant Ludvaius. Tell me more about this important Rogue Trader. Is it the Blank genes, that might cure your curse? I have another Blank in my retinue." she proclaims in a proud tone, holding her Rosetta out for a millisecond.

I feel something mighty trying to reach my mind, then it fades. Damn it. The Blank protection is not perfect then. It's kinda worrisome, since a Rosetta is...sanctified on Terra.

A young platinum-haired woman with piercing green eyes, steps out from behind the space marines. And I know her. I've seen her pics. And she knows me too.

"Pef Lancefire. I heard your father died, out in the fringe." she says in a slightly warm voice.

"Melta guns are harsh on the skin. Such are the dangers beyond the borders." I answer more kindly.

I never expected to meet my mother this way.

"See? Nothing to worry about, Sergeant. We're all a big happy family here." the Inquisitor quips and grins warmly.

Is she the true Inquisitor? A rosetta can be held by a trainee as well. Then again, does it matter? Only another Inquisitor can investigate her.

My Astartes sighs and stands straighter. "Your command, Lord Pef?" he asks me in a resigned voice.

Hell, we're about to die?

Not on my watch! I still have a mission.

"Fabricator, let's go and finish our negotiation protocols on the Litany. The Lady Inquisitor may join us, and we'll talk in private." I say in a flat tone, like I was surrounded by a meter of adamantium.

The Blank wouldn't help much, but they can't read my thoughts or future anyway. It will make them a bit wary.

Amazingly, my gambit works, as the Inquisitor raises an eyebrow with curiosity, and gestures silently at her enforcers.

Soon enough, we arrive on the Litany and I open the sealed hangar for the Tigrus tech-priests, and the Inquisitor.

Then I wait on the launch rails, while a hundred Magi dart from artifact to artifact spewing prayers and blessing, gushing holy oil everywhere, as well as incense smoke and datasphere engrams.

"I think they like my gifts." I announce a bit amused. These things might be really valuable.

"Aren't the cogheads always the same, around machines and weapons?" the space marine asks rhetorically.

Well they do like machines, but we never seen them like this, not this agitated, not even for new spaceship templates or tank reactors.

Wait, it's a joke. "Who knew you still had a sense of humor, Astartes. I thought they removed it surgically during implantation." I mutter in a small voice.

"They tried, but my will was stronger." he quips and pats my head again.

Damn it, I'm not a child to be praised with head pats...even if I like look much smaller in comparison.

The Lady Inquisitor records everything and performs scans on every item, sometime conferring with a small guy with weasel eyes, from her retinue.

By next day, a Mechanicus cruiser comes about and begins loading the relics at speed.

The Fabricator points at her Forge world with a cyborg arm, then nods and departs without a word. Well, I don't need words anyway. This is a capital letter Favor.

I still won't get Titans, so I'll have to pick everything else.

"Don't worry, Lord Pef. Forge Tigrus won't forget this debt. But if they do, I have records. They will pay you, somehow." the Inquisitor remarks in a softer voice, and sits down to sip her own tea.

It seems I need to supply my ship with higher quality stuff, because she just snorts at everything I have as food or drinks.

Lidvaius and everyone else wait outside, as it is time for the fated talk.

I gulp some wine to fortify my courage.

"You intend to travel outside the Empire, Inquisitor?" I ask after a minute of polite silence.

She nods gracefully. Ordo Xenos then, if her Deathwatch guards didn't clue me enough.

I freeze a second, loading the sector map and considering probable destinations.

"The Eldar?" I ask curious.

"Ha! Always fun to watch a savant at work. Perhaps we should implant all the Imperium officers. We might lose fewer people and ships that way, going by your exploits alone." the woman replies in slight praise.

I nod in agreement. The implants aren't without problems, but they outweigh that with sheer utility.

"We do not hate the alien because he is different, we hate the alien because he had naught but hate in his heart for us."

1111100011110

This quote makes me smile a little. "They would be useful to reduce Hive fleet Kraken a bit. Orks and Necrons would work better. Maybe the Barghesi too" I muse out loud.

"Oh? And how would you direct the Tyranids from course, to strike at Mandragora, for example?" she asks dismissively.

Glad you asked, dear lady.

Mandragora is the capital of a large Necron dynasty, with prodigious levels of firepower.

"I would take an Inquisitor with me, and visit Sotha. Then I would shift the Warp beacon from Ultramar on Mandragora. Perhaps Chandron or Grendl after that. Lead them on a merry chase around the sector, and vanquish the nastiest enemies with no loses for humanity." I comment with a shrug.

She did ask, after all. Grendl is the center of a huge Barghesi empire called Grendl_Stars

Her hand trembles a little, spilling the tea.

"No wonder that Blood Angel was ready to die for you...really important, it would seem." she murmurs to herself, wiping away the tea with a telekinetic wave.

"But then, where would I find an Ordo Xeno Inquisitor that might listen to me? Alas, I'm out of luck!" I complain and sip some wine in victory.

She grins at me with eyes only. "You weren't spanked enough as a child, Pef Lancefire."

"My mother left me. Then my father died. I had to improvise." I quip in return.

She nods solemnly. "We will need a big fleet."

I don't have a fleet, but I know who does.