After finalizing the production blueprints, Armannus handed the data to a nearby Tech-Marine, instructing him to organize personnel and set up a production line to run a few prototypes first.
Seeing that Huron was about to leave, Armannus moved with practiced speed, grabbing the Chapter Master’s arm.
“Brother Chapter Master, there is no one else here.
Tell your brother the truth—did the Emperor bestow an STC template upon you?”
Huron felt a wave of helplessness.
“Brother Armannus, the Emperor truly didn’t give me an STC template.
That equipment is just…
granted to me by the Emperor at regular intervals.”
Lately, Huron had been growing a bit weary of Armannus.
He wasn’t sure what had possessed the Tech-Marine, but Armannus was firmly convinced that the Emperor had gifted Huron an STC template and that all the new gear was being manufactured via STC.
Since then, he had been pestering Huron daily, trying to wheedle him into handing over the “STC” for study.
If Huron actually had one, he would have handed it over without being asked.
The problem was, he didn’t.
Armannus clearly didn’t believe him.
“Don’t bluff me, Chapter Master.
The Emperor is busy with a myriad of affairs across the galaxy; how could He have the time to turn screws for you every day?
That’s just absurd.”
Huron shrugged.
“Maybe the Emperor took a liking to me and He’s trying to curry my favor.”
The Emperor, quietly observing through the screen: “?”
*What is this guy talking about!*
Armannus froze, then looked shocked.
“Could it be…
the Emperor is a woman?
Really?”
Having fully accepted Huron as a God-chosen, he naturally didn’t doubt Huron’s knowledge of the Emperor.
This was where the Imperium’s suppression of history manifested most clearly.
Even though the Astral Claws were an ancient and distinguished Chapter with three successor Chapters of their own, they remained almost entirely ignorant of historical truths.
This was especially true regarding the Emperor’s specific image and the details of the Great Heresy.
The Chapter knew that some Legions had betrayed the Imperium, but they had no idea which Legions or which individuals were involved.
They even believed there were only nine loyalist Primarchs and remained ignorant of exactly how many rebelled.
“Of course it’s a lie,” Huron said, taking advantage of Armannus’s momentary shock to wrench his arm free and bolt out of the room.
His voice echoed back down the hall: “Don’t be so impatient.
If I ever truly get an STC, I’ll definitely let you study it.
For now, focus on how to calibrate the Tactical Dreadnought Armor.
The blessing the Emperor gave me has been strengthened!”
In the corridor outside, Huron headed toward Odinsen’s office while opening his system panel.
After more than six months of production, combined with the Chapter’s existing stockpile, they now had over 3,500 sets of Power Armor.
Most were the highly versatile Mk7 Aquila-pattern; they were no longer in short supply.
Consequently, Huron kept only one Military Factory producing Mk7 Aquila-pattern armor, while the other nine were reassigned to produce Terminator Armor.
There was no need to agonize over the specific model, as the Astral Claws only possessed the blueprints for “Cataphractii-pattern” Terminator Armor.
Thus, Huron chose that.
[Cataphractii-pattern Terminator Armor Production: 0.9/day]
The production capacity for Cataphractii Armor was only a tenth of that of standard Power Armor, but it was worth it.
The combat effectiveness of one set of Terminator Armor far surpassed that of ten sets of standard Power Armor.
While it might seem “low-tier” that the Astral Claws only had one type of Terminator blueprint, in reality, most Chapters didn’t possess even a single production template.
Since the Horus Heresy, the Imperium’s production capacity for Terminator Armor had been steadily declining, and the underlying technologies were being lost to time.
Most Chapters seeking Terminators had to rely on whatever was allocated during their founding from their parent Chapter, or rely on battlefield salvage and piecemeal repairs.
There were essentially no other ways to acquire them, let alone possessing the actual blueprints.
That was a privilege reserved for the most legendary Chapters, such as the First Founding Chapters or the Black Templars.
Lost in thought, Huron soon arrived at Odinsen’s office.
He closed the system panel and knocked on the door.
“Enter,” Odinsen’s voice called from within.
Huron pushed the door open to find Odinsen buried under a mountain of documents on his desk.
Odinsen looked up, and seeing it was Huron, he stood up immediately.
“Chapter Master, what brings you here?”
Huron waved him back into his seat.
“I came to ask how the census in the Underhive is progressing.”
“We have the rough data, though the specifics haven’t been fully organized yet,” Odinsen recalled.
“In the current Underhive regions, we can account for roughly 18 billion people.
If we include the Ecclesiarchy’s zones and some missed pockets, it’s likely over 20 billion.”
He then added, “However, because various forms of killing occur in the Underhive almost every second, the exact number is likely to fluctuate.”
“Over twenty billion…” Although Huron knew the Underhive population would be higher than expected, he hadn’t anticipated that the Underhive alone would have more people than the official planet-wide records.
This gave him a visceral understanding of how abysmal the Imperium’s administrative capabilities were.
It also reinforced his determination to strengthen administrative control; he could not let the Underhive remain as it was.
He looked at Odinsen.
“How is the proposal for the Underhive surveillance system and the network integration project coming along?”
“The proposal is mostly ready.” A look of difficulty crossed Odinsen’s face.
“But Chapter Master, our current manpower is beyond saturated.
The three major projects already occupy the vast majority of our personnel and resources.
The network integration of the Underhive will have to be pushed back.”
Whether it was the super-sized starch factories, or the subsequent water recycling, air recycling, and plasma reactor projects, they all required massive amounts of resources.
The wages and bonuses for the billions of laborers—which seemed like a lot—were actually the most insignificant part of the cost.
The resources seized from the rebel nobles—various engineering equipment and related production machinery—were already in use.
Useless luxuries and artworks were being used to trade for influence with the remaining nobles to ensure the projects proceeded smoothly.
There simply weren’t any resources left to spare for building a surveillance system or network infrastructure in the Underhive.
“It’s fine.
No need to rush; just focus on doing the current projects well,” Huron mused, glancing at his National Focus tree, which was more than halfway complete.
“The Emperor has revealed to me that we are doing a good job.
He is satisfied and will soon bestow an even more powerful blessing.
Everything will be resolved when that time comes.”
Odinsen breathed a sigh of relief and performed the Sign of the Aquila.
“Praise the Emperor.
Praise His mercy and benevolence.”
Huron also performed the Sign of the Aquila.
“Praise the Emperor.”
The Emperor: *What does he mean?*
*What is this guy talking about?
I don’t recall any of this.*
*Though, he is indeed doing quite well.
If it weren’t for that unknown power involved—which makes me unable to rest easy—I’d almost want to actually manifest a miracle to back him up.*
*I’ll wait and see.
For now, he hasn’t encountered any major problems he can’t solve on his own.
If he ever hits a wall he can’t overcome, I’ll manifest or send word to the Custodes to give him my endorsement.*