The arrival of a Forge Master sent a shiver of unease through Orvillea. She sought out Luka, urgency in her mechanical eyes. "I can move now to negotiate with my sister. Since your frigate's here, you can head to the Forge World." She handed him a Mechanicus cog emblem. "This is my homeworld's symbol. Show it to her—she'll know we're connected without saying it. She's allied with the Fabricator-General. If he's intrigued by the xenos ruins, he'll invest in their excavation."
Luka listened, unconvinced. "If the Fabricator-General learns of the ruins, you think he'll share? You've seen how tech-priests are."
Mechanicus greed was legendary. Xenos relics and ancient tech were treasures they hoarded, not tools to uplift the Imperium. Like bandits, they guarded their spoils, shortsighted and miserly. Luka had seen Orvillea's obsession firsthand; a Fabricator-General would be worse. Sure, some tech-priests were more human, but most were as cold as their machines.
Orvillea paused, then explained, "A Fabricator-General doesn't care for these scraps. He's focused on grander things. These relics might spark his curiosity, but he'll delegate to his Sages. My sister, as his ally and your contact, will handle it. I'll lose some profit, but partnering with them means no loss—maybe even a path back to the Forge World." Her gaze shifted to Luka, a mix of frustration, disdain, and weary resignation. "And you, Governor, will get what you need. A Fabricator-General won't blink at funding a planet's development—agri-world, industrial, or paradise."
"Only if the ruins yield enough," Luka countered, unmoved by her promises. The Mechanicus was filthy rich but stingy. Their Skitarii wielded top-tier weapons and augmetics, yet were fed through cheap nutrient sacks—a perfect metaphor for their greed. Generous when it suited them, they'd pinch every Thrones otherwise.
"If we excavate the tomb fully, there's enough for everyone," Orvillea pressed.
Luka didn't bite. "Why not lean on the Inquisition or Deathwatch? Gutress and I are tight. A Watch Fortress here wouldn't be hard to arrange. Or I could deal with the Forge World through him for better terms."
Watch Fortresses, Deathwatch strongholds, housed kill-teams of Astartes from various Chapters, tasked with safeguarding Imperial worlds. Unlike standard Chapters, Deathwatch drew elite warriors from across the Imperium, making it a wildcard force. The Inquisition, too, had a keen interest in xenos ruins. Luka's Inquisitor status gave him leverage over Orvillea.
She fell silent, outmaneuvered.
"I'll contact my mentor and serve you for ten years," she offered, scraping for bargaining chips.
Tech-priests often served Inquisitors as acolytes for support, but a Sage like Orvillea equaled an Inquisitor's rank, making her offer a rare concession.
"Ten's too short. Thirty years," Luka countered, cutting off haggling. "Serve me, help terraform this planet, and I'll back you to reclaim Cawl's forge."
Orvillea weighed it. Thirty years was nothing for a tech-priest. With Luka's aid, it was a fair trade. "Deal," she said, resolute.
(To be continued)