Kelbor Hal was, at the time, just an ordinary Fabricator-General.
If Terra was a place where the water was shallow but the turtles were many, and big shots were everywhere, then Mars was no less so.
As a Forge World of humanity’s Golden Age, Mars possessed a unique culture of machine worship; they believed that machines also had souls, and that a great omnissiah existed to bless their pious holy machines.
But the problem arose: what exactly was the image of the omnissiah?
Everyone argued endlessly, so they just left it at that and worshipped in their own ways.
If there were ten thousand factions on Mars, there were ten thousand omnissiahs.
That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but the situation was largely that way.
Kelbor Hal’s Adeptus Mechanicus was merely a medium-sized faction on Mars, and the omnissiah they worshipped was named “omnissiah.”
If nothing unexpected happened, Kelbor Hal would likely just live a pious and uninteresting life.
Then, a big guy glowing with golden light arrived.
Initially, Kelbor Hal was dismissive; he was just a petty warlord from Terra, a stinking Terran coming to Mars to beg for food.
Although Martian factions had tried several times to run to Terra to recover technology, the intensity of the fighting on Terra was too high, and they were beaten back in disgrace before long.
Perhaps the little warlord in front of him was even more impressive than himself, but he couldn’t lose his aura; aside from the omnissiah, no one could make him kneel, no one!
…
“I agree to the alliance.”
Kelbor Hal had wanted to loudly reject him, but he was simply too impressive.
The golden big guy in front of him had just arrived on Mars and had casually repaired machinery that the entire Adeptus Mechanicus had spent hundreds of years failing to understand.
The knowledge he spoke of offhandedly was something all the scholars had failed to research in a century.
Kelbor Hal could already see people chanting binary hymns while spraying machine oil.
Kelbor Hal couldn’t tell if the person in front of him was an emissary of the omnissiah or the omnissiah himself.
He saw the big guy in front of him nod and pull out the already prepared “Olympia Treaty.”
Kelbor Hal read it carefully, and the parts on his body instantly overheated, and he also began spraying machine oil.
The omnissiah becoming the orthodoxy of Mars, or even the orthodoxy of the galaxy—was he dreaming?
“Slurp, um, omnissiah…
Emperor, does our Adeptus Mechanicus really only need to provide equipment to the Empire without any other constraints?”
“Of course.
You see, our Imperial symbol is a double-headed eagle, symbolizing that the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Empire are equal in status.
Moreover, for any legacy technology found during the Great Crusade, you have priority research rights.”
Oh my omnissiah, forget it, sign it.
Kelbor Hal was about to sign when he suddenly raised his head, “Um, Your Majesty the Emperor, I think it wouldn’t be too late to sign officially after you unify Terra.”
Kelbor Hal had sobered up; he hadn’t even unified Terra yet and was already painting a big picture for the whole universe?
He should get Terra in his hands first; only then would he consider him capable of unifying the galaxy.
As for now, it was better to wait.
“Very well.” The Emperor nodded; he had enough patience.
“Ahem, well, we can’t directly intervene in the unification of Terra, but we can let you make the equipment and such.
Consider it a bonus to the treaty.”
Kelbor Hal spoke up.
Regardless of whether the big guy in front of him was truly capable or just putting on a show, he hoped the other party could win on Terra and then fulfill the treaty.
The Emperor took out another stack of blueprints: MK2 Power Armor, various weapons and ammunition—the basic equipment for future Astartes was all there.
“Then I’ll trouble you.”
Kelbor Hal inexplicably felt he had been scammed, but things had reached this point, and there was nothing more to say.
…
“My Lord, how did it go?”
Back at the palace, Malcador hurriedly asked the Emperor.
“The other party agreed, but only after the unification of Terra.
How is Number Zero?”
“That Child is planning to incite chaos in the Federation of Indonesia.
During this time, she has also dealt with some small surrounding factions.
They have all announced their incorporation into the Empire.”
The Emperor nodded, expressing his approval.
“Valdor, take three hundred Custodians and summon the western army.
I want to lead the expedition myself.”
Valdor accepted the order and left.
Malcador asked the Emperor: “Do you not intend to let her make contact beforehand?”
The Emperor rubbed his brow: “It is still too early for her.”
…
Tang finished his day’s work.
Today was another day of striving to maintain the purity of his people’s bloodline.
It was truly exhausting.
“Archbishop,” a knock on the door interrupted Tang’s mood.
He suppressed his inner anger and spoke: “Enter.”
A servant walked into the room and knelt on the ground.
“Archbishop, several riots broke out at the bottom of the Hive City today, and we lost a few factories.”
“Just execute those wretches directly!
Do you need me to teach you such things?
Guards, take him away and burn him.”
The servant hurriedly begged for mercy, kowtowing heavily again and again.
The blood on his forehead stained the clean floor.
“Spare my life, Archbishop, spare my life.”
“To think you dirtied my floor.
Take him away, torture him, then burn him.”
Several guards dragged the poor man away, and some other servants silently wiped the floor clean.
Tang took a deep breath and regained some calm.
Before going to sleep, he wrote in his diary— “Nothing to report today.”