"Necron technology?"
A glimr of curiosity flashed through Romulus's eyes, clearly fascinated by the topic.
"Tomb Gate? Necron anti-warp field?"
Rases narrowed his dead-fish-like eyes and shook his head expressionlessly, a hint of helplessness in his tone.
"I am not Vashtorr."
If they could actually capture Vashtorr and force him to be their laborer, or seize his Warp authority, then Necron technology would no longer be an unreachable enigma to them.
Given sufficient conditions, completely destroying a Necron Dynasty while pushing through a Necron anti-warp field wouldn't be impossible.
Such an event was even recorded in the future archives of the Black Library.
"Just unlocking the Canoptek Scarabs would be considered a success,"
Rases continued, a trace of exhaustion weighing down his voice.
"For now, we will have the daemons focus on unlocking the derivative products of various Necron technologies based around the phase sword and neuro-disintegrator. As long as we have enough data entries and physical samples, we should be able to figure it out. The rest depends entirely on what we can find in the Warp."
He pointed at the neuro-disintegrator resting on the table.
Once standardized for the mortal combat squads, the combat enhancent this weapon provided would be quite substantial.
Any naless, unremarkable entity lacking the Warp's gaze would face certain death upon taking a single shot, completely regardless of how thick their armor was.
As for the weapons of the Vindicare Assassins, the transmigrators didn't think much of them.
Records showed that their assassinations were often incredibly inconsistent. They were fine for taking out planetary governors, but whenever a target had ties to the Warp, they would frequently miss due to various absurd reasons, fail to secure the kill, or land a shot that ultimately had zero effect.
Of course, they still scanned whatever they could get their hands on. The stealth suits, which functioned similarly to the nanosuits from Crysis, were actually quite decent and could definitely be equipped on mortal troops in the future.
"Alright."
Romulus nodded in understanding, showing little disappointnt on his face.
He pulled up the technology integration report he had just received in his mind.
'I will just consider it as a technological reserve. It will all be useful when the ti cos,'
he thought.
Thanks to the expedition, their direct interference with established events had provided them with a massive influx of psychic energy.
These souls could not only summon an entire fleet for them at a critical mont, but they were also the foundation for rapidly establishing various production lines once they located their ho planet in the future.
Throughout the expedition, aside from reimbursing the equipnt expenditures of the various battlegroups, they spent their ti conducting thorough technological assessnts of every Imperial planet they passed.
Whether it involved civilian infrastructure, military hardware, or even the Standard Template Constructs secretly hoarded by planetary governors and Nobles, they basically got their hands on everything. Along the way, Romulus, alongside Drakus and the others, even formulated short-term developnt plans tailored to the specific conditions of each planet.
Romulus consistently maintained communication through the Astropaths, staying updated on the status of each planet. He archived every case, regardless of whether the outcos were positive or negative, as all of this data would serve as essential reserves for building their own pocket empire in the future.
"Speaking of which, the Astropaths are another group we need to win over."
Romulus reviewed the manifests, noting that their recent relations with both the Astropaths and the Navigators had been quite amicable.
Perhaps due to how unusually smooth their Warp travel and astropathic communication had been lately, these psykers attributed the stability to a blessing brought by Romulus and his companions.
Yes, of course everyone knew that Astropaths and Navigators were exalted figures under The Emperor's gaze, possessing an unparalleled, noble resolve. Even if certain death awaited them in the very next second, they would willingly leap straight into it.
You couldn't insult a psyker entrusted with a grand mission by The Emperor with nonsensical promises like offering to spare their life.
But, brother, what if I told you I could help you serve The Emperor for a much, much longer ti?
"The religious issues are also incredibly severe."
Just thinking about the religious zealotry prevalent among the upper echelons of the Expeditionary Fleet gave Romulus a massive headache. His brows furrowed involuntarily, and he pressed his fingers against his temples, as if the gentle massage could alleviate his inner frustration.
He stood before the observation window on the bridge. His gaze pierced through the thick armaglass, settling on the blinking lights of the fleet's vessels scattered across the distant starry void, but his heart felt agonizingly heavy.
Aside from the Rogue Traders, the greatest beneficiary of this expedition was the Ecclesiarchy.
The spoils and victories achieved by this operation, officially dubbed the Dawn Crusade, were truly staggering. The Xenos and Chaos threats across the entire Eastern Fringe had visibly diminished, a feat that trendously invigorated all factions involved.
As a result, the Ecclesiarchy in neighboring Sectors began organizing Crusade Forces of their own, following the Expeditionary Fleet's navigational route to push further into the east.
But if you thought organizing armies to expand upon these victories ant the Ecclesiarchy was doing sothing humane, you would be gravely mistaken.
The reality was quite the opposite.
Although these fleets easily numbered in the hundreds of millions and boasted massive scales, they were entirely composed of a handful of ard escorts and countless transport ships. These vessels were packed to the brim with workers, farrs, zealots, and other underclass populations scraped from various Sectors.
Unlike Pierre's forces, these Crusade Forces did not have the transmigrators supplying them with weapons and provisions at any cost.
These people handed over their ager life savings to the Ecclesiarchy just to purchase a ticket to join the holy war, receiving shoddy equipnt and the illusory promise of potentially becoming Nobles in a new world in return.
Until they struck an immovable wall, the Ecclesiarchy would never allow the holy war to halt. This crusade brought them an incalculable amount of wealth. They exploited the expedition's triumphs to line their pockets and continuously expand their influence across their respective Sectors.
The holy war would rage along the borders of the Ghoul Stars, and these pitiful ordinary mortals would be ruthlessly thrown into an endless at grinder of frontier wars.
Romulus scoffed coldly, shaking his head as he muttered to himself, "How completely ironic."
Sotis it was truly laughable. The Ecclesiarchy constantly preached that humanity was "The Emperor's currency," yet they were always the ones squandering it so recklessly.
Romulus felt an overwhelming need to ditch the Ecclesiarchy and operate independently. However, as long as The Emperor continued to manifest his miracles and The Warp existed, religious faith would inevitably persist, and its influence would only grow stronger by the day.
The harsh truth was that the vast majority of individuals within humanity were entirely incapable of controlling their own destinies. They had to attach themselves to a greater, almighty power just to survive.
Even back in the twenty-first century, throngs of people worshipped intangible, ethereal deities. It made absolute sense in the Warhamr 40k universe, where gods tangibly existed.
Nevertheless, Romulus still gathered the others to co-sign and send a formal letter of advisent to the Ecclesiarchy.
The letter formally acknowledged the unwavering support the various branches of the Ecclesiarchy had provided for the Dawn Crusade. However, it also tactfully pointed out that while the expedition had achieved stellar victories, the various Imperial planets that had suffered attacks were now experiencing severe population shortages.
If they were to consolidate the expedition's gains and ensure that The Emperor's radiant glory continued to illuminate the Far Eastern fringes of the Imperium's borders, they urgently needed to safeguard the developnt of these planets.
Another underlying motive behind the letter was to cause so trouble for the unbridled Rogue Traders. These opportunists had been taking advantage of the fact that other Imperial organizations hadn't reacted yet, and their brazen actions were starting to cross the line.
Allowing the Officio Assassinorum to infiltrate the Expeditionary Fleet had also been a deliberate move, intended to act as a deterrent against anyone harboring treacherous thoughts.
Otherwise, Arthur and Rases could have wiped them clean the very mont they set foot in the fleet.
"I can sowhat sympathize with the Lord Regent's agony now."
Romulus muttered under his breath, raising a hand to rub his strained, aching eyes. Inside the transmigrators' secret cabin, his personal corner was buried under mountains of datapads and communication logs. The cold, sterile glow of the monitors illuminated his face, making his expression appear all the more solemn.
This precise situation strongly mirrored Guilliman's desperate struggle to balance the various factions following the Horus Heresy. It was far more ntally exhausting than fighting an actual war.
He diligently processed the endless paperwork, his fingers swiping rapidly across the datapads. Occasionally, he would pause for a brief mont, frowning slightly as he carefully weighed certain decisions.
Thanks to his lofty title as the leader of the Expeditionary Fleet, people still actually listened to what he had to say.
However, power was a fickle thing; if you didn't exercise it, it would gradually slip away. Romulus understood this harsh truth perfectly. Therefore, he had no choice but to grip that authority tighter and tighter, like wielding a double-edged sword—one careless move, and he would end up cutting himself.
Many Sector governors were already harboring deep grievances regarding this kind of remote dictation.
They feared Romulus was using these tactics to secretly expand his influence across their Sectors, sparking widespread hushed debates behind closed doors.
But, taking one look at the sheer scale and terrifying might of the Expeditionary Fleet, they limited themselves to re whispered complaints without daring to take any actual action.
After all, no matter how profoundly dissatisfied they were, they absolutely couldn't afford to antagonize him at a ti like this.
As for the distinct possibility that the next planet might devolve into a chaotic bloodbath, Romulus didn't overemphasize the issue.
He had simply brought it up in passing when he entered the room, and that was enough; his companions nodded in silent understanding.
Yes, the matter was of critical importance, but it didn't warrant endless discussion.
They all knew what had to be done, and that was enough.
Yes, simply knowing was all that mattered.
Pre-war preparations were actually the easiest tasks to manage, mainly because the outco was basically a guaranteed victory.
Romulus leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the star map projected in the secret cabin. He already had a solid grasp of the enemy's strength in his mind.
You only had to look at the staggering might of the Expeditionary Fleet to understand. As long as they didn't crash headfirst into legions led by the Chosen of Chaos, or apocalyptic threats like the Silent King who had just returned to the Galaxy, they could simply steamroll right over any ordinary adversary with brute force.
Victory was an absolute certainty.
Romulus was rely optimizing the process to get there; he actually had very little to worry about regarding the battles themselves.
He stood up and approached the star map, his fingers gently tracing the flickering points of light. Glancing back at the companions by his side, the corners of his mouth crept up, finally revealing a hint of a confident smile.
For them, winning the war was actually the easiest part.
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