"So, you're a planetary governor and an Inquisitor, with a Necron tomb under your planet and only ten PDF regiments to hold it?" Twilight's face twisted like he'd swallowed something foul, seeking confirmation from Luka.
Ten regiments sounded decent, but against Necrons? They'd be slaughtered in days—not just the PDF, but the entire planet. In the lore, when the Great Rift opened, the Necrons unleashed the Pariah Nexus in the Nephilim Sector, a blackstone-powered field that shredded souls. This network of obelisks could envelop the galaxy, annihilating all sentient life. For the Necrons, it was just another Tuesday compared to their past atrocities.
The Cadian Gate, which held back the Eye of Terror's warp energies, was itself a Necron blackstone array. Activating these ancient structures could wipe out all life with a soul. Had Abaddon not shattered Cadia and its obelisks, the Imperium might've crumbled under the Pariah Nexus. Rostov II's tomb might not be that dire, but ten PDF regiments were laughably inadequate. Only Space Marines, Battle Sisters, or Knight Houses could face such a threat—PDF didn't cut it.
"That's the deal," Luka said, shrugging. "But I'm building a Battle Sister convent. In three to five years, we'll have a steady supply of bolter gals. I checked the tomb—skeletons are still sleeping. We stirred them a bit, but they're not awake. The real issue is the Flayed Ones in the city sewers. You all know how bad those are."
"No servitors in the sewers, right?" the shop owner asked, dead serious.
"Relax, my chamberlain confirmed—no servitors or robots," Luka replied. Flayed Ones' curse could spread, even to servitors, per official novels. "But the Flayed Ones were there before I arrived. No clue how many or if they've turned victims into more."
"You call in the Astartes?" Mai Mai asked, tense, not eager to be cannon fodder right after crossing.
"Not yet. I just found out, and my chamberlain says it's under control for now," Luka said. Calling Space Marines was a long shot—given the Imperium's size and pre-Rift Astartes scarcity, reinforcements could take decades, if they came at all.
The group, all Warhammer nerds, quickly agreed. "It's manageable for now. Necrons are a long-term threat. Priority is boosting our strength—troops and leaders solve everything," the owner said. "But that Mechanicus Sage? She's trouble. We get why—she's a tech-priest—but if she monopolizes your Mechanicus ties, you're screwed."
"That's my worry," Luka admitted. "Orvillea, Cawl's student, needs to reclaim his forge. It might hide Primaris Marines, but we need a way to check her. She's useful now and will be later, but the Mechanicus is a mess. One tomb raid already caused chaos. I can't trust she won't spark more."
It was classic tech-priest behavior—trouble came with the territory. But as a traverser who could invite allies, Luka wanted leverage over her.
"We need a counterbalance—Space Marines, Ecclesiarchy, something to rival the Mechanicus," the owner said. "Native 40K factions might not rein her in, but we can. Crossing as a Tech-Priest, Chapter Forge Master, or Fabricator could keep an exiled heretic like her in line."
"Exactly," Luka said, eyes glinting. "You pick your roles, so choose ones that maximize our edge. What's it gonna be?"
"I'll go Rogue Trader," Mai Mai said first. "Someone's gotta handle the grunt work, right?" He wasn't Mechanicus-savvy and lacked their models.
"You know me," Twilight said, sheepish. "I've always wanted to captain a warship." He knew some Mechanicus lore but had no related pieces.
The owner grinned. "I've got a homebrewed Necron-themed Forge Master. Think it'll work?"
(To be continued)