Chapter 38: Food Crisis
Seeing Ian's tacit approval, Lucan knew it was settled. Lucan didn't want to be a puppet, nor did he want to become a tool for those high-ranking Inquisitors. He needed to develop his own network of connections, to win over individuals he deemed worthy.
After acquiring the System, Lucan no longer intended to just quietly remain a Rogue Trader forever. Given time to develop, he was destined to rise, and his Dynasty would not be confined to its current few planets.
His most immediate major goal was to develop the Koronus Expanse into a powerful star sector comparable to, or even surpassing, the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar.
The territories within the Imperium proper already had their masters. If he tried such ambitions within Imperial borders, threats from powerful xenos and the Imperium itself would hinder him at every turn. The Koronus Expanse, however, was a perfect place.
The intensity of enemies here was considerably lower.
And although there were rules here, there was also sufficient freedom. The already explored regions contained thousands of worlds, and the unexplored regions were even more numerous.
Most importantly, to enter the Expanse normally from Imperial territory, one almost invariably had to pass through "The Maw" Warp route.
Any threat from within Imperial space would first have to pass its initial test. And once Lucan's Koronus "pocket empire" was established, he could guard the Mandeville Point near the Fury System to intercept enemies. This natural defensive chokepoint would give Lucan an immense advantage.
It would allow him to attack when he chose and defend when he needed.
At this moment, Zestha, now a limbless "mechanical human stick," was guarded by a full squad of Raiders. Ever since witnessing grotesque creations like the Forgefiend, no one underestimated Zestha, even though he had completely lost his ability to resist; they feared he might still pull some trick.
Seeing Lucan, dressed in his ornate robes, and Inquisitor Ian approach, Zestha was still shouting defiantly.
He cursed agitatedly in binaric. Even if Lucan couldn't understand it, he knew it wasn't anything good.
However, no matter how Lucan questioned him, Zestha refused to answer in High Gothic.
This forced Lucan to pull Pavian, who was currently purifying the forge workshop, over.
Pavian approached Zestha, pushing aside his robes. The red robes of a Tech-Priest, which should have been immaculate and magnificent, were tattered and stained with dried blood – all from those innocent victims. Beneath the robes was a body modified with various heretical technologies.
"What profane technology," Pavian remarked.
Hearing Pavian's words, Zestha finally stopped cursing.
Seeing the extent of Pavian's own augmentations, Zestha sneered.
"A common Tech-Priest? You don't understand how to apply knowledge at all! Technology should never be restricted! The decadent Imperium destroys and suppresses knowledge, restricts its dissemination, and even kills those who explore the truth! Vashtorr is the true Machine God!"
"And yet, you still failed, didn't you? Did you not hear the wails coming from the machine spirit? Daemons devoured the sacred machine spirit and twisted its perfect body into that blasphemous form. You are the one who is wrong! The Holy Machine is the maintainer of all machinery; it protects us and soothes and heals the machine spirit."
"Holy Machine? What is that?"
"You are not worthy to know. You need only know that your profane technology is insignificant before It. It was It that sheltered us and allowed us to resist the invasion of your scrap code."
"You, a common Tech-Priest, resisted the corruption of scrap code? That's utterly impossible!"
The argument between them seemed endless. Lucan stepped forward and stopped Pavian.
"There's no point wasting words on these lackeys of the Dark Gods. Translate for me; I want to know what exactly they did on my world!"
However, when questioned, Zestha remained silent. He had no fear of physical torture; by severing his sensory implants, this body, now almost entirely mechanical, could completely ignore any torment.
Looking at Zestha's imperviousness, Lucan was momentarily helpless.
"Perhaps you'll let me try?" Ian offered.
"Hmm? Inquisitor Ian, do you have a good method?"
"He may be able to ignore physical torment, but what about spiritual torment? As Inquisitors, we encounter countless heretics. Many possess the same abilities as him!"
"Inquisitor Ian, you seem to know quite a bit."
"I am merely proficient in a few things. In the Expanse, we must deal with too many enemies of mankind. To protect the Imperium's security, we must learn more knowledge, and interrogation is a required course for every Inquisitor."
Ian looked at Zestha with a slight smile.
"Then I'll trouble you."
"Consider this my humble thanks for your earlier assistance."
Soon, a vacant cabin was provided for Ian. Before long, agonized screams echoed from within.
Ian was using his psychic powers to tear at Zestha's soul, probing the deepest secrets within his mind.
While waiting for Ian to deliver the interrogation results, Lucan was also listening to the battle report.
The Golden Ram's armor plating had suffered some damage, and multiple decks had been breached by enemy macro-cannon fire. Fortunately, with the SCVs present, repairs weren't a major issue. The Sword Rain and the Pioneer had also sustained varying degrees of damage, but their technological superiority had allowed them to win out and escape when facing the enemy frigates.
What pained Lucan the most were the personnel issues. In this battle, the three warships had lost over three thousand naval soldiers. Of the naval troops who had boarded the enemy ship, not one in ten survived; the rest had died fending off enemy boarders or from enemy cannon fire.
The losses among the shipwrights were also not small. Several enemy assault pods had breached directly into the lower decks. Before support teams could arrive, these attackers had killed almost every shipwright in sight.
If not for the Raiders' swift action, the losses might have been even greater. In ship-to-ship combat, individual lives were terrifyingly insignificant.
And the greatest loss was the tragic state of Omiron II.
Originally, Omiron's population had been over one hundred million. After Kanto's fleet's month-long destructive rampage and plunder, nearly sixty percent of the population was dead or abducted. It was almost impossible for the remaining population to restore Omiron's output.
"Captain… they emptied all the granaries. If they truly started doing this a month ago, then we now have a major food problem ourselves."
Verre wore a bitter smile.
"We have a food problem too?"
"We stocked up on a large amount of food before setting out, but what about the 40 million people now on Omiron? You said to do our best to help these people, but the amount of food needed to feed 40 million is terrifyingly large. If Omiron were still functioning normally, it wouldn't be an issue, but now… we are completely helpless.
If it weren't for some survivors from the Corpse Guilds on Omiron producing corpse starch from the dead, the number of deaths would be even higher. We even discovered instances of cannibalism among some survivors when we found them.
My proposal is to abandon the survivors here, conserve the food on our own warships, and proceed to Agathos as quickly as possible. Only by reclaiming the capital world swiftly can we gain the ability to rebuild this agri-world."
"Then are we to just watch these people starve to death?"
"I'm afraid so, Captain."
(End of Chapter)