Horizonfort. Underground Core Storage Zone. Isothermal Vault No. 4.
The air here passed through triple filtration. Humidity held constant at 35%. Temperature controlled to 18 degrees Celsius — Andy's specific requirement, the optimal preservation environment for both precision electronic equipment and ancient archaeological artefacts.
Andy stood before a row of enormous metal shelving units.
Behind him, Enginseer Zol was circling the worktable and its pile of black components, his scanner emitting rapid beeping, the aperture of his optical implant contracting and expanding repeatedly as he tried to make sense of the operational logic behind what he was looking at.
These were not the pieces hastily grabbed during the last frantic evacuation.
These were key components that Andy and Little Six had deliberated over at length, configured in advance within the Disassembly Protocol, and stripped from the New State using engineering drones and thermal cutting equipment.
The situation at the time had been chaotic, but inside Andy's logic core, the priority list had always been clear.
Little Six mattered, certainly — but the New State's value extended far beyond a single navigation AI.
What lay on the worktable before Andy now were two Cogitator core arrays of remarkably complete logical architecture.
The one on the left presented a deep, matte black exterior — no seams anywhere on its surface, only row after row of standard data interfaces. This was the primary Cogitator responsible for controlling the Geller Field. Abbreviated: the Geller Array.
The one on the right had a housing with a silvery-grey metallic sheen and was slightly larger in volume. This was the primary Cogitator responsible for controlling the Veil Array. Abbreviated: the Veil Array.
"This is impossible —"
Enginseer Zol set down his scanner. A puzzled electrical crackle came from his vocaliser unit.
"Lord Andy, the logical architecture of these two units does not conform to any existing Mechanicus standard. Their interfaces appear to be standard STC-type connectors on the surface, but the internal data bus arrangement is... very strange."
"I believe these fall within the domain of archaeology."
Zol rendered his judgement.
"Even in the oldest archive repositories on the Upper Hive, I have never seen documentation for a model like this. The specific production date may predate the Great Crusade. Perhaps even earlier."
Andy nodded.
This was to be expected.
The New State had always been a patchwork vessel. Every captain across its long history, doing whatever it took to survive in the void, would have put it through countless non-standard modifications. It was entirely plausible that these two Cogitator cores were not original equipment.
Though Andy rather suspected, knowing the Mechanicus's habit of just pressing buttons and hoping for the best, that the more likely explanation was that nobody who fitted them had any idea what they were actually installing.
The Mechanicus position: I press this button — and I myself have no idea what's going to happen!!
Andy attempted a scan using the STC database.
[Scan Result: Unknown Model, High-Computation Logic Unit.] [Status: Offline.] [Note: Architecture is heavily encapsulated. Reverse-engineering of base code is not possible. Hardware functionality is intact.]
If even the STC couldn't identify the specific model, that meant this was either a bespoke item from some lost era, or something that had been so extensively modified it was unrecognisable.
But that didn't matter.
As long as it works, it's worth having.
Andy's gaze moved to a custom shock-proof case nearby.
The lid was open. Inside, nestled in protective padding, lay a set of crystalline prisms, translucent and faintly glowing with a dim blue radiance.
These were the core components of the Geller Field — the Phase Resonance Crystal Assembly.
There is a common misconception about Geller Fields: that they are simply generators which, once powered, produce a protective bubble.
In reality, the Geller Field operates by utilising a specific warp-frequency to create a "bubble of reality" around real-space. Maintaining that bubble requires extraordinarily precise phase control.
And this Phase Resonance Crystal Assembly was the critical lens used to calibrate and amplify that frequency.
Under conventional design, a Geller Field generator is typically enormous in size and deeply integrated with the Warp drive.
But this assembly was clearly an exception.
It was independent. Modular. And it came with its own compact excitation coil.
This was almost certainly a redundant backup prepared by some Rogue Trader against engine failure — and now it had fallen very conveniently into Andy's hands.
"Zol, connect this assembly to the mounting base."
Andy picked up one of the crystals and examined its internal grain structure under the light.
"I'm going to resurrect the Geller Field. Here."
Zol's mechadendrites gave a small tremor.
"Here? On the surface? Above ground?"
"What are you planning to defend against with a Geller Field? This is the middle of nowhere — there are no reports of large-scale warp incursions in the expansion zone."
"Not defence." Andy shook his head. "Production."
Andy pointed toward the eastern sector. "You remember that Analyser Station? It takes in alien materials and produces useful outputs."
"But certain advanced conversion options — specifically the deep-processing functions for xenos materials — require a Geller Field as a supplementary condition."
Zol asked no further questions and began directing the servitors to begin installation.
Crystals were slotted into their housings. The Cogitator core was connected to a power source. Coolant was injected into the conduits.
"Activate."
Andy issued the command.
Hmmm.
A vibration — inaudible to the ear, but felt in the bones — swept through the entire underground hall.
The dust particles in the air seemed to freeze in place for one suspended moment.
Around the crystal assembly, space underwent a subtle distortion. A transparent sphere approximately five metres in diameter formed.
Within that sphere, the physical laws of reality were absolutely anchored. All warp interference was excluded.
Geller Field — successfully resurrected.
A miniature version, admittedly — but more than sufficient.
Andy immediately had a crate brought over — part of the stockpile seized from Kaka previously.
Eldar Wraithbone.
Andy had previously run it through the Analyser Station and converted it into Type-IV Bio-Neural Bundles, used to upgrade his own chassis and fabricate the Vanguard-type assault power armour.
But that was only the most basic application of Wraithbone (Option 3).
Within the Analyser Station's menu, there was a higher-tier option that had remained greyed out and unavailable due to the absence of a Geller Field.
[Option 2: Subspace Energy Flow Conduit.]
"Take this crate of bones to the Analyser Station."
Andy gave the order to the servitors behind him.
"Run a universal feed line. Connect the Analyser Station's energy input to this Geller Field."
With the Geller Field now engaged, the [Option 2] that had previously been permanently greyed out finally lit up.
The Analyser Station's nanomachines stirred to life once more. Assisted by the stable reality anchor the Geller Field provided, they began a far deeper restructuring of the Wraithbone.
This time, what emerged was not slender neural bundles.
Instead: thick, semi-transparent conductors — and within them, something like flowing light in motion.
[Subspace Energy Flow Conduits.]
Andy picked one up and felt the unusual energy fluctuations contained within.
With these, a lot of things I hadn't dared to think about before are now worth thinking about.
Andy moved to the adjacent Vault No. 5.
Here were stored two other treasures removed from the New State.
The core control unit of the heavy-element reactor, and the ignition and flow-control assembly of the Warp drive.
It bears emphasis: these were the control units only.
The New State's main reactor, weighing tens of thousands of tonnes, and the Warp drive itself — which occupied the footprint of an entire building — had simply been impossible to move in the conditions of that emergency evacuation.
The big machinery had been left in the wreckage of the New State, and was probably being hauled away as oversized scrap by now.
What Andy had brought back was the brain and nervous system.
As for the body —
Andy looked down at the control board in his hands and fell into thought.
No body. Can be built.
The basic material output capacity of Deep Space Industrial was now sufficient.
Andy pulled up the material test reports from the past few days.
[Plasteel: Mass-production process is fixed and stable.] [Test Results: Yield strength meets Imperial Navy standard. Heat resistance is excellent.]
[Ceramite: Prototype production successful.] [Test Results: Ablative performance is good. Sufficient for use as outer hull armour on voidships.]
With the Matter Molecular Reconstructor providing raw materials, combined with the cutting capability of the precision machining centre —
Andy now had the full capacity to fabricate a serviceable starship hull and structural keel from scratch.
In other words: the ship's skin and skeleton — solved.
But the heart — blocked.
Andy's gaze settled on the blueprint in the STC database labelled Standard Pattern Warp Drive (Frigate Class).
Most of the schematic was green — indicating the existing technology could produce it.
But two core areas remained a glaring red.
[Core Component Missing: Reactor Inner Wall.] [Material Required: Adamantium.]
[Core Component Missing: Warp Energy Focus Lens Array.] [Material Required: Synthetic Diamond.]
The two hands currently strangling Andy's plans — both right here.
First: Adamantium.
One of the hardest substances in the Warhammer universe. Physically extraordinarily stable. Melting point absurdly high.
Only a reactor inner wall cast in Adamantium could withstand the catastrophic temperatures and pressures generated during heavy-element fusion, as well as the reality-rending back-reaction forces that fire up when a Warp drive activates.
Use standard Plasteel or Ceramite for the reactor inner wall, and it explodes the instant you ignite the core.
Second: Synthetic Diamond.
Similar in production philosophy to Adamantium but not identical — this is not natural carbon-based diamond, but an artificial crystal formed under extreme high-pressure conditions. In Andy's view, its quasi-supersolid properties also suggested it could form as a product of certain exotic astronomical bodies — but that was debatable.
Its refractive index and hardness were, needless to say, far beyond natural diamond.
Without it, the warp energy generated by the drive would scatter and overflow in all directions, blowing the entire ship into another dimension.
Unfortunately.
Neither of these two materials could be produced by the Matter Molecular Reconstructor.
Adamantium, as an isotopically engineered alloy, involves fabrication at the atomic nucleus level. Synthetic Diamond, while technically a molecular-level process, requires extreme high-pressure environments — far beyond the pressure field the Reconstructor could generate by many orders of magnitude.
Andy paced back and forth in the vault.
He was unwilling to give up just like that.
If the orthodox path is blocked, try an unorthodox one.
Andy began a frantic search through the database, keying in: [Warp Drive], [Alternative Materials], [Non-Standard Design].
Vast streams of data scrolled across his retinas.
Most candidate solutions were discarded immediately — they called for materials even rarer than Adamantium.
Until Andy found a technical document flagged as Non-Standard.
It was a research report titled: Applications of Psychic Conduit Material in Warp Drive Systems.
The author was unlisted. Possibly a graduate thesis from some Federation researcher.
The researcher noted in the report that the essential function of a Warp drive is to channel warp energy.
Traditional Warp drives use superconductor coils to transmit that energy — but this requires extremely low temperatures and expensive superconducting materials.
An alternative approach, the researcher proposed, is to use materials with psychic conductivity properties as a substitute for superconductors.
Andy kept reading, until he came across a sample whose appearance was strikingly similar to the [Subspace Energy Flow Conduits] he had just produced.
The researcher had written a detailed parameter specification for it, and one particular attribute caught Andy's attention:
[High-Dimensional Energy Compatibility: Extreme.] [Substitution Recommendation: Viable as a replacement for traditional deep-cryogenic superconductor coils, serving as the energy transmission medium within a Warp drive system.]
Something sparked in Andy's logic core.
Psychic conductivity properties?
The difficulty of building a conventional Warp drive, beyond the core materials, lay largely in the extraordinarily complex superconductor transmission system. To maintain the superconducting state, the drive required a massive liquid-helium cooling system — which made the engine enormous, structurally complex, and liable to full shutdown the moment cooling failed.
But what if —
"What if I abandon the conventional superconductor coil design entirely, and replace it with these conduits converted from xenos material?"
"These conduits function at room temperature. No deep-cryogenic system required!"
"That means the engine's overall structure could be simplified by at least 30%, and the volume reduced considerably!"
"And these conduits already carry an innate warp-affinity — energy transmission efficiency should be higher than rigid superconductors!"
This was nothing short of genius.
Use xenos materials, combined with human Golden Age architecture, to build a hybrid engine.
Andy immediately called up the design software and began revising the schematic.
He deleted the entire bulky superconductor coil system, replacing it with an energy circuit woven from Wraithbone flow conduits.
Line by line reconnected. A new Warp drive model took shape, slowly, in the holographic projection.
It was more compact in structure. Its energy circuit more organic. It even possessed a strange, biological kind of beauty.
[Simulated Operational Test —] [Energy Transmission Efficiency: 145%.] [Heat Loss: Reduced by 60%.] [Stability Assessment: Extremely High.]
It worked.
This was the Andy Edition Warp Drive.
One of a kind. Irreproducible. And outstanding in performance.
Not remotely concerned about whether he'd essentially lifted someone else's thesis, Andy looked at the perfect blue holographic model before him and felt a surge of profound satisfaction rise through his logic core.
He had found a new technical pathway.
Build this according to the schematic, and this drive would absolutely outperform any Imperial product of equivalent class.
And yet.
Just as Andy was about to save the schematic and issue a production order —
His finger stopped mid-air.
His gaze fell back to the core section of the blueprint.
There, the reactor inner wall was still marked: [Material Required: Adamantium.]
The focus lens array was still marked: [Material Required: Synthetic Diamond.]
The Wraithbone material had solved the transmission problem and the superconductor problem.
But it could not solve the problem of the reactor exploding.
No matter how good the conduits were, the core reaction chamber still needed Adamantium to withstand the heat and pressure.
No matter how fast the transmission was, the energy output node still needed Synthetic Diamond to focus the beam.
These two hard requirements were the red lines of physical law — and when you thought it through — damn. There really was no way around them.
Andy stared at those two red material requirement boxes.
The excitement of a moment ago was like a bucket of cold water thrown onto a red-hot iron plate — it vanished instantly into useless white steam.
Well.
"What on earth was I even getting excited about —"
Andy muttered to himself, his voice echoing in the empty vault.
A schematic drawn beautifully is just scrap paper without the materials.
Adamantium and Synthetic Diamond — were those the sort of things you could just get, simply because you decided you needed them?
Strategic-grade high-end resources like those would only be found in the most ancient ruins, or the highest-tier Forge Worlds, in any meaningful quantities.
Andy dropped himself onto a nearby crate, staring blankly at the perfect, unbuildable engine model.
"Looks like I'll have to go out and find them after all."
Andy closed the holographic projection. The vault returned to dimness.
If he couldn't fabricate them, the only option was to find them ready-made.
He'd only been here less than a month. This planet almost certainly still held plenty of things worth finding.
For the sake of a new ship that didn't yet exist — as long as it could exist, Andy would pick his teeth if that's what it took.