While the surface of the Ryza was still crawling with billions of Orks, with the orbital siege lifted the hardest part was over.

Billions of servitors and their commanding tech-priests arrived to engulf the derelict Ork ships in reclamation workforce. Under my eyes, smaller escorts and even the light cruiser hulls were being swiftly dismantled and brought to the orbital shipyards for reforging into new Mechanicus or Navy vessels.

As Ryza had the best plasma technology and expertise around, they kept the larger hulls intact and just pushed them farther out, to have their plasma engines rebuilt and the hulls cleaned and sanctified.

It would still take decades to rebuild a Grand Cruiser and even longer for a battleship.

Meanwhile, the bulk of the Mechanicus Navy fired salvo after salvo at the crashed Ork Battleship on the moon, without visible effect. The damn Waagh field was still going strong, anchored into the body or soul of that Grax Warboss.

Still, it seemed to me that Ryza wasn't really trying to end the invasion, and instead used it as opportunity to test their machines in relative safety, close to supply lines and without having to transport the huge Titans and robots to another system.

"Good target practice, right Magos?" I asked idly, while examining the battle lines from orbit.

"Perhaps so, Captain. Forge World Ryza should posses more than enough firepower to wipe out these Orks." Majoris replied after a few seconds of contemplation. Not his full name, but there was a Majoris title in there, so I went with it.

I engaged the savant implant to consider why this was happening. If a Forge World was under invasion, their quota and tithes would be obviously much reduced, or perhaps even suspended.

Sneaky way to conduct tax evasion, while also field testing various war machines on a nearby battlefield.

"Try to see if the Fabricator General can receive me, in private." I added in a fake whisper and left the bridge to Wentian. My elder uncle had good instincts and plenty command experience.

Then I went to my rooms, and began importing schematics and templates on another database, things that were not finished but would be useful to the millions worlds in the empire.

From weapons and vehicles, to industrial designs and agricultural machines, logistical upgrades and facilities, including the standardized containers, wheeled and rail transport beds for them, also water based transports like container ships, cargo carriers for the Merchant Navy and Chartist Captains. Then I had health and ecologic designs, chemical filters and ultraviolet light barriers, electric trains and tramways for faster and cleaner transport, water purification and desalination, and more.

For defense, I compiled a set of forts and Orbital fortresses without major or glaring weaknesses. Metallic asteroids, powered by a plasma reactor and enveloped by a shield. Variants of them were armed with Lances, Torpedoes, attack craft, point defense and even Nova Cannons.

Then a simple corvette pattern without Warp Engines but stronger shields and point defense and extra torpedo launchers, in vertical cells. Practically a system missile boat, that could emerge if the system was under attack, or be carried as a parasite craft inside a Universe-class conveyor.

A thousand of such system corvettes, if the carrier was well-designed, with launch decks and wide hangars. I sketched a possible variant, envisioning a central rail line to bring torpedoes out from the armory and load them in blocks on the corvette, 30 per ship.

With its 10 kilometers long and 3 kilometers tall cargo hold, a mass conveyor could have 10 decks with 100 corvettes ready to be launched like torpedoes, and still have plenty room to spare.

Another similar design was a missile destroyer, but with normal Warp Engines and slightly bulkier as a result of the torpedoes stacked in a vertical cell block. STC template name: Los Angeles.

Then a Light Cruiser with a hundred dorsal torpedo tubes and 3 lance batteries on the ventral side, called the Macross-pattern cruiser.

I had begun loving the torpedoes, especially the servitor piloted type that I used. Enormous range and devastating firepower, with little chance of being hit yourself.

While my other sets of memories didn't include the exact operating principles and standards for these machines, they didn't need to. A Forge World would have a billion engineers ready to be assigned those designs and told to make them work.

Funny enough, these were in fact ancient terran designs, like the missile cruiser of the navy or the missile submarine, even the cargo vessels and electric trains.

Then again, Terra was now an arid planet without a drop of water, and the Himalayas mountains have been sculpted into the Imperial Palace.

Many parts of the Holy Planet were still greatly irradiated or polluted so much that the pollution itself seeped into the ground to form new oil fields.

Scars of tens of thousands of years of constant warfare were visible in every pict, craters and canyons formed by titanic weapons in place of the old cities.

The future had not been kind, and it would only get worse.

My musings were interrupted by Helena, who entered my room looking tired and drained. Most likely another hospital shift.

She sat in my lap and starred at the Holy Terra pict on the holoscreen.

"Will we ever see it for real?" she asked in a longing voice.

Her Emperor, and grudgingly mine as well, rested on the Golden Throne, sustained by the daily sacrifice of a thousand psykers.

My own hand was proof of his real powers, even mostly dead as he was.

"Soon enough, my dear. A few more Primarchs need to die, and others found again. Give me a thousand years to get my affairs in order." I answered softly and massaged her tone body with deft hands.

Tharsius coughed in warning. Right, big capital I sealed secret for now.

She fell asleep, and I carried her to my bed, and went on another tour of the ship, inspecting for damage, checking with the Master of Arms and all the various service heads.

A single campaign, fairly short at that, and the Canticle needed at least 6 months in dockyard, plus near total replenishment of servitors and lower deck serfs.

Perhaps Ryza will be nice enough to install triple void shields on my battlecruiser, and provide other upgrades to armor and torpedo tubes.

Then I visited the fighter deck, which was kinda small for a ship of this size. The Litany could carry 3 squadrons of fighters, and the Canticle had only 4 squadrons, being designed for long and medium range battles via torpedoes and lances.

Of the total 100 pilots, 22 were my daughters and 37 other clan members. It seems being a spacefighter pilot is still an honour and probably an adrenaline rush as well.

This wasn't my mansion on Illevar, so the girls wouldn't try their wiles on me, and "Daddy, kiss my elbow, it hurts" tricks.

While my kids were healthy and looked well, their machines were not. Riddled with bullets holes and missile shrapnel, I would be safer to just kick them overboard.

Perhaps Ryza could replace them.

"Need anything from me, pilots?" I asked to make sure.

They hesitated and glanced at the damaged fighters. "Better armor on the birds, and more missiles" their Flight Leader demanded as everyone laughed.

"I'll see what I can do. Prepare an escort for my shuttle, the most damaged Furies that can still fly." I commanded with a wry tone, and walked towards the next hangar, with the shuttles and assault boats.

These were riddled with holes and burn marks as well, due to hostile boardings under fire.

I almost decided to pick a wobbly shuttle, then I thought again. My own person would be at unnecessary risk. A Stormbird had the Gellar field as well, and Chaos wouldn't just wait to be purged.

"Heading towards Ryza?" Tharsius asked with a wary tone.

"Of course. We'll have air cover and orbital support, my friend." I answered a bit more confidently.

"Fine, helmet stays on." my bodyguard demanded as the ramp began to close.

I nodded in agreement. Wouldn't want my lungs to freeze if the lander depressurized for some reason.

As the Stormbird lifted off, I obediently mounted my armored helmet and checked my weapons, just like the Astartes did. Hellpistol, power dagger and three flash grenades, just in case.

My void guards became alert and silent now, and two Armed Sentinels locked their feet with magnetic clamps to cover the ramp.

A minute later the fighters formed a protective wing on us, and we began descending towards the main spire of the Forge Ryza.

"Passing through Ryza air defense corridor, IFF check." the lander's pilot announced on the intervox speakers.

"Clear to land now, beginning retro-burn." he continued in a professional tone. The Stormbird shook and trembled then settled down. "Be advised, I see Astartes and dogs among the welcoming party"

I sighed and pointed at the ramp, letting my escort go first and secure the landing pad.

Probably made quite a sight, two large walkers with chainswords and autoguns providing deterrence and a show of strength.

My void marines were not as imposing, even with their burned and scratched carapace armor, but then Tharsius emerged and observed the landing pad for a minute, before urging me to come.

"Landing secure, Lord Pef. Still, head directly inside and don't pet the dogs. They might bite." he announced in a loud voice.

A dozen wolves growled menacingly, showing long canines and shaking their furs.

I advanced and slapped the biggest Space Wolf on his furred shoulder. "Well met Astartes. Don't bite my hand, okay?"

He slapped me back and nearly broke my spine. "Hahaha, you really are a funny guy. Is it true an Angel grew back your hand?" he wondered out loud.

"I wasn't conscious at that time, and my implants didn't record anything. But before that, I recall slashing a Chaos sorcerer and trying to stab a Word Bearer in the face. He was too fast though..." I admitted in a pleasant tone.

The big Astartes chuckled and glanced at Tharsius in disbelief.

"I was on Estaban, busy killing Fulgrim at that time. But witnesses say he kicked the traitor in the balls after his arm was caught." the Scythe explained with an amused voice.

The other Space Wolves howled in mirth and glee and pounded my shoulders for my bravery. "Good enough for a puppy, Lord Lancefire. Any smart idea how to get to that Warboss?" another Space Wolf asked in a more sober voice.

I nodded and walked away. "Of course. But I want a puppy for that." I quipped, pointing at the ferocious guardian wolf to my side.

The wolf snarled at my hand and drew back. Damn Blank aura.