The Primarch of Liberty

Chapter 45: Data Works



The Glorianna Class Voidship Fist of Iron, of the Iron Hands hung in low orbit over Medusa IV, its monolithic bulk a testament to the technological mastery of Ferrus Manus and his Legion. Within one of its cavernous strategy rooms, two towering figures stood hunched over a hololithic display, their superhuman minds processing vast amounts of information with

ease.

Franklin Valorian, the Liberator, stood with his arms crossed, his imposing frame dwarfing even the substantial bulk of the hololith projector. Beside him, Ferrus Manus, the Gorgon, his metallic hands gleaming under the harsh light, manipulated the controls with surprising delicacy.

Franklin Valorian, took it upon himself to brief his newly-reunited brother on the intricacies of the Great Crusade.

Ferrus listened with stoic attention, his silver eyes gleaming with intelligence and barely- contained impatience. He was a man of action, more comfortable in the forge or on the battlefield than in lengthy discussions. Yet, he recognized the value of this knowledge and forced himself to pay heed.

"Ferrus," Franklin began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, "the Emperor may have left abruptly, but there's much you need to know about running a Legion in this Crusade." Ferrus nodded curtly. "Speak plainly, brother. I have little patience for flowery words." Franklin smirked, appreciating his brother's directness. "Very well. First, logistics. Your Legion needs to be self-sufficient across vast distances. Supply lines can make or break a campaign."

As Franklin spoke, Ferrus cross-referenced the information with the data slates he'd been given. His enhanced mind processed the information rapidly, noting discrepancies and similarities with cool efficiency.

"Conquest," Franklin continued, "isn't just about military victory. Sometimes, diplomacy—" "Diplomacy?" Ferrus interrupted, his tone skeptical. "We are warriors, not politicians."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Franklin held up a hand. "Hear me out, brother. Sometimes, bringing a world into compliance through negotiation is more efficient than through force. It preserves resources and potential allies."

Ferrus grunted, unconvinced but willing to consider the idea. "Efficiency is... valuable. Continue."

As they delved deeper into Imperial governance, Ferrus noticed something that gave him pause. "Franklin," he said, interrupting again, "these administrative protocols are remarkably detailed. I wouldn't have expected such... meticulousness from you."

Franklin's face split into a wide grin. "Ah, you've found me out, brother. I may love a good fight, but I'm a stickler for proper documentation. An empire runs on information as much as it does on bolter rounds."

Ferrus nodded, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. This was something he could understand the precision of a well-maintained machine, applied to governance.

"Now," Franklin said, his tone becoming more serious, "let's discuss something crucial: Imperial services. You have two options: the Independence Cluster or the Mechanicum of Mars."

Ferrus's interest was piqued. This was more his area of expertise. "What's the difference?" Franklin's smirk returned. "Truthfully? The Cluster's services are superior in every way. Better quality, faster turnaround, more advanced tech."

Ferrus raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Better than the Mechanicum? That's a bold claim."

"Bold, but true," Franklin asserted. "However, there's a catch. The Cluster's services are currently limited to Segmentum Solar and Obscurus and Parts of Pacificus and Ultima with only one being in Tempestus as of the moment."

Ferrus frowned, his logical mind immediately seeing the problem. "Limited reach reduces their overall effectiveness, regardless of quality."

"Exactly," Franklin nodded. "Every time a new system is discovered, the Cluster and the Mechanicum fight for ownership. It's turned into a cold war of sorts."

Ferrus's frown deepened. "Inefficient. This infighting weakens the Imperium's expansion efforts."

Franklin shrugged. "The Emperor sees value in competition driving innovation. But it does create... complications. The conflict has even spread to the Rogue Traders."

"The independent captains?" Ferrus asked, his tone indicating he saw little use for such unreliable elements.

"The very same. They're in a unique position to profit from this rivalry, informing either side of new discoveries - for the right price."

The Gorgon's expression hardened. "That sounds... inefficient."

Franklin sighed, nodding in agreement. "It is. Rogue Traders often find themselves caught in the middle, selling information to the highest bidder. And if they try to play both sides..." He trailed off, his implication clear.

Ferrus was quiet for a moment, his mind working through the implications. "This is a significant flaw in our expansion strategy. It introduces unnecessary variables and risks."

Franklin nodded solemnly. "It does. But it's also driving rapid advancement in our technology and production capabilities."

Ferrus grunted, understanding the unspoken threat. "I see. And the Emperor allows this?" "He sees it as a form of competition that drives innovation," Franklin explained, though his tone suggested he might not entirely agree. "For now, we work within the system we have."

The two Primarchs fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of their responsibilities settling heavily upon their shoulders. After a moment, Ferrus spoke, his voice carrying a hint of respect that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you, brother. This information will prove invaluable."

Franklin smiled, clasping Ferrus on the shoulder. "That's what family is for, isn't it? We look out for each other."

Ferrus nodded, a rare smile gracing his usually stern features. "Indeed. Though I must admit, I didn't expect the Liberator to be so... thorough when it comes to paperwork."

Franklin's laughter boomed once more. "Oh, brother, you have no idea. Wait until you see the forms for requisitioning a new battleship in the Cluster. It's enough to make even a

Primarch's head spin!"

As their laughter subsided, a sense of camaraderie settled between them. Two sons of the Emperor, each unique in their strengths, united in their purpose.

"Good luck out there, Ferrus," Franklin said, extending his hand. "The Great Crusade awaits."

Ferrus grasped his brother's hand firmly, the cold metal of his own a stark contrast to Franklin's warm flesh. "And to you, Franklin. May your aim be true and your paperwork impeccable."

The vast emptiness of space swallowed the last remnants of Ferrus Manus's battlefleet as it slipped into the swirling maelstrom of the Warp. Franklin Valorian stood motionless on the observation deck of his flagship, the "Sweet Liberty," his eyes fixed on the spot where his brother's ships had vanished. The silence that followed was profound, broken only by the soft hum of the ship's systems.

"Sovereign," Franklin's deep voice resonated through the empty chamber, "what news of

your scans?"

The AI's response was instantaneous, its voice emanating from hidden speakers throughout the room. "Scan complete, Lord Valorian. I have conducted two thorough sweeps of Medusa

IV using our most advanced nanomachine probes."

Franklin's eyebrow raised slightly. "And the results?"

"Inconclusive, my Lord," Sovereign replied, a hint of frustration in its artificial tone. "We detected traces of Necron technology, specifically a device that could have housed the construct known as Asirnoth. However, there is no evidence of a larger Necron presence or a dormant Tomb World."

The Primarch's brow furrowed as he processed this information. "So, the Great Wyrm that Ferrus defeated..."

"Most likely a scouting construct, Lord Valorian," Sovereign finished. "Perhaps sent to assess the planet's suitability for colonization or to gather intelligence on the developing human

presence in the galaxy."

Franklin nodded slowly, his mind racing with the implications. The presence of even a single Necron construct on a human-inhabited world was troubling. If the Necrons were beginning to stir after millions of years of dormancy, the Imperium might face a threat unlike any it had encountered before.

As if sensing his thoughts, the ethereal presence of Khaine stirred within the Crone Sword at Franklin's hip. The Aeldari God of War's voice echoed in the Primarch's mind, tinged with a mixture of disappointment and anticipation.

"A pity," Khaine's voice resonated. "I had hoped for a true battle, a chance to once again face our ancient enemy. These Necrons were worthy foes, machines of living metal that even the might of the Aeldari struggled to overcome."

Franklin couldn't help but chuckle, the sound a low rumble in his chest. "Always eager for battle, aren't you, Khaine? Look on the bright side - at least we saved on ordinance. Necron Tomb Worlds aren't exactly known for being easy to subdue."

The god's presence flickered with what might have been amusement. "True enough, young Primarch. Though I wonder if you truly comprehend the devastation a fully awakened Tomb World can wreak."

"I've read the reports, studied the ancient texts," Franklin replied, his tone growing serious. "But you're right, I haven't faced them in battle as you have. Tell me, what should we be

prepared for?"

Khaine's presence swelled, filling Franklin's mind with images of battles long past. The Primarch saw vast armies of metallic warriors, their weapons capable of reducing entire planets to ash. He witnessed titanic constructs that dwarfed even the largest Imperial war machines, and energy weapons that seemed to defy the laws of physics.

"They are relentless," Khaine's voice echoed through the visions. "Their bodies repair themselves, their minds are unaffected by fear or fatigue. And their technology... even at the height of our power, the Aeldari struggled to match it."

Franklin absorbed the information, his tactical mind already formulating strategies and contingencies. "Then we'll need to be prepared. Sovereign, begin compiling all available data on Necron technology and battle tactics. Cross-reference with Khaine's knowledge where

possible."

"At once, Lord Valorian," the AI responded.

As the images faded, Franklin turned his attention back to the void of space beyond the

observation deck. The stars seemed colder now, each one potentially hiding an ancient,

slumbering threat.

"We should inform the Emperor," Franklin mused aloud. "If the Necrons are stirring, even on

a small scale, He needs to know." Khaine's presence rippled with agreement. "Wise, Primarch. Though I wonder how your

father will react to the news. The Emperor is powerful, but even He may find the Necrons a

challenge beyond His reckoning."

Franklin's jaw set with determination. "Then we'll face them together. The Necrons won't find humanity an easy prey."

In the heart of the Imperial Palace on Terra, within a chamber so secure that its very existence was known only to a select few, the Emperor of Mankind stood motionless. His towering form, clad in gleaming golden armor, was illuminated by the ethereal light emanating from countless hololithic displays surrounding him. Each display flickered with data streams, battle reports, and strategic assessments from across the burgeoning Imperium.

But it was a single data-slate that now held the Emperor's attention. His piercing gaze,

capable of seeing through the veil of reality itself, was fixed upon the report submitted by His son, Franklin Valorian. The Liberator's words spoke of an ancient threat, one that had lain dormant for millions of years: the Necrons.

As He absorbed the information, the Emperor's mind reached out, piercing the veil of time

itself. The future unfolded before Him in a kaleidoscope of possibilities, each branching path a potential reality. He saw countless versions of humanity's future, some glorious, others

grim, but in each, a constant remained.

The Necrons would awaken.

In every possible future, approximately ten millennia from the present, the ancient xenos

race would stir from their tomb worlds. The Emperor witnessed the devastating power of their technology, the implacable advance of their armies, and the havoc they would wreak upon the galaxy.

Yet, as He continued to peer through the myriad futures, the Emperor noted that the Necrons' awakening, while catastrophic, was not an immediate threat to His plans. The Great Crusade, the unification of humanity, and even the potential pitfalls that lay ahead in the form of chaos

and betrayal - all these would come to pass before the Necrons posed a significant danger.

With a thought, the Emperor dismissed the swirling visions of the future. He returned His attention to the present, to the data-slate containing Franklin's report. A faint smile, invisible beneath His radiant countenance, touched His lips. His son's foresight and caution were commendable, further proof that the Primarchs were fulfilling their intended purpose. The Emperor's fingers danced over the data-slate, inputting a series of commands. The report was classified, marked as a non-immediate threat but flagged for future reference. It would be stored in the deepest vaults of the Imperial archives, a warning for future generations should His grand plan falter.

However, the Emperor was not one to leave things entirely to chance. With another series of

commands, He marked several planets for Exterminatus. These worlds, seemingly insignificant now, had featured prominently in His visions as future strongholds of Necron influence. Their destruction, while a drastic measure, would potentially alter the course of the

far future.

As the Emperor completed His assessment, a chime sounded, signaling the arrival of

Malcador the Sigillite. The Emperor's most trusted advisor entered the chamber, his aged form belying the immense psychic power he wielded.

"My Lord," Malcador began, his voice filled with curiosity, "I sensed your contemplation.

Has something significant come to light?"

The Emperor turned to His friend, His voice resonating with the weight of eternity. "Franklin

has uncovered traces of the Necrons, old friend. His concerns are valid, but the threat is

distant."

Malcador's eyes widened slightly. "The Necrons? I had hoped they were merely legends."

"No legend, but a sleeping giant," the Emperor replied. "One that will not stir for ten millennia. We have more pressing concerns to address."

The Sigillite nodded, understanding the implications. "And the report? "Classified, but preserved. Knowledge is power, Malcador. For Our Future Reference"

As Malcador absorbed this information, the Emperor's gaze returned to the hololithic displays. The Great Crusade continued across the galaxy, humanity's reach expanding with each passing day. Countless challenges lay ahead, but for now, the Necron threat remained a distant whisper, a storm on the far horizon.

Battlefleet Liberty shimmered into realspace near the coordinates of a newly discovered

world. At the helm stood Franklin Valorian, the Liberator, his imposing 15-foot frame dwarfing even the largest command consoles. His brown eyes, usually twinkling with mirth, now held a keen focus as he gazed upon the holographic display of the planet below. "Sovereign," Franklin's deep voice rumbled through the bridge, "what do you make of this

world?"

The ship's artificial intelligence, Sovereign, responded in a crisp, genderless voice that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Greetings, Primarch. Initial scans indicate a habitable world with signs of human civilization. However, I'm detecting unusual

Warp activity that suggests proximity to the Eye of Terror." Franklin stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting. Any signs of immediate danger?" "Negative, Primarch. However, I recommend caution. The Warp signatures are... unsettling."

"When are they not, my friend?" Franklin chuckled, his face breaking into a grin. "Give me details on the human presence. What are we looking at?"

Sovereign's voice took on a slightly more animated tone, as if pleased to share its findings. "The civilization appears to be feudal in nature, Primarch. I'm detecting multiple large structures consistent with fortifications. Interestingly, there are also energy signatures that

match known patterns of Knight walkers."

"Knights?" Franklin's eyebrows shot up. "Well, well, looks like we've stumbled upon a lost

Knight World. This day just got a whole lot more interesting. Any communication attempts from the surface?"

"Negative, Primarch. It appears they lack the technology for space-based communications. However, I am detecting numerous power sources consistent with Imperial technology, albeit several millennia out of date."

Franklin nodded, his tactical mind already whirring. "A world lost to time, then. Sovereign, what resources are you detecting? Anything of note?"

"Affirmative, Primarch. Preliminary scans indicate rich deposits of various rare earth elements, as well as significant promethium reserves. The planet's geothermal activity suggests potential for energy harvesting as well."

"Sounds like we've hit the jackpot," Franklin mused. "An intact human civilization, Knight

walkers, and resources to boot. The Emperor will be pleased." He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Now, about that Warp activity. What can you tell me?" Sovereign's tone shifted, becoming more cautious. "The Warp signatures are... complex,

Primarch. They suggest long-term exposure to Chaos energies, likely due to the planet's to the Eye of Terror. I'm detecting fluctuations that are consistent with daemonic incursions, though nothing on a massive scale."

proximity

Franklin's jaw set in a determined line. "Chaos. It's always Chaos, isn't it? Any guess on which

of the so-called 'gods' might be involved?"

"Based on the nature of the Warp disturbances and certain biological anomalies I'm detecting

on the surface, I would hypothesize the influence of the entity you refer to as 'Papa Pimple', Primarch." "Papa Pimple," Franklin spat the name like a curse, though a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "The Overgrown Petri Dish himself. Well, that complicates things." He paced the bridge, his massive form casting long shadows in the dim light. "Sovereign, run simulations. I want to know our best approach for making contact without triggering a full-scale daemonic zit-popping party."

"Processing, Primarch," Sovereign replied. After a moment, it continued, "Simulations suggest a small landing party would be optimal. A show of overwhelming force might agitate

the Warp energies, while a more diplomatic approach could allow for gathering intelligence without immediately antagonizing any Chaos presence."

Franklin nodded, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Diplomacy it is, then. Prepare my

personal shuttle. I'll lead the landing party myself." "Primarch," Sovereign's voice held a note of concern, "I must advise caution. Your presence on the planet's surface could draw significant attention from Chaos forces." Franklin laughed, the sound booming across the bridge. "My dear Sovereign, when have you

known me to shy away from a little attention? Besides, if Nurgle wants to dance, I'm more

than happy to oblige. It's been too long since I've had a good fight." "As you wish, Primarch," Sovereign replied, a hint of resignation in its tone. "Shall I inform

the Liberty Eagles to prepare for possible combat operations?" "Absolutely," Franklin nodded. "Have them ready, but tell them to hold position unless I give the word. We don't want to spook our potential new allies planetside." He paused, then added with a chuckle, "Oh, and have Denzel meet me in the hangar. If we're going into a

potential Nurgle situation, I want my best swordsman at my side." "Understood, Primarch. Shuttle preparations are underway, and I've notified Captain Washington. Is there anything else you require?"

Franklin thought for a moment, then smiled. "Yes, actually. Prepare a data packet on Knight

World customs and etiquette. If we're going to be dealing with nobles, I want to make sure we put our best foot forward."

"An excellent suggestion, Primarch. I'll have the information ready for you before you reach

the shuttle."

"Perfect," Franklin said, already striding towards the bridge exit. "Oh, and Sovereign? Keep

an eye out for any unusual tech signatures down there. A world this old might have some

surprises for us." "Of course, Primarch. I'll maintain constant scans and alert you to any anomalies." As Franklin reached the door, he turned back, his face serious despite the excited glint in his

eyes. "Sovereign, if things go sideways down there..."

"I understand, Primarch," the AI interrupted softly. "The Battlefleet Liberty stands ready. At

your command, we will rain overwhelming firepower upon any who dare threaten you or the

Imperium." Franklin's face broke into a wide grin. "That's my girl. Alright, let's go make some new friends... and maybe pop a few of Papa Pimple's boils while we're at it."

With that, the Primarch of Liberty strode out, ready to face whatever challenges this mysterious Knight World might hold. Behind him, the bridge hummed with activity as the Liberty Eagles prepared for their next great adventure.