The Shipyards in Martian Orbit.
The Martian Docks, a colossal ring-shaped shipyard encircling the Red Planet, stood alongside the Jovian Docks of Jupiter as the two largest shipbuilding hubs in the Solar System.
Unlike other shipyards primarily tasked with churning out standard escorts and cruisers for the Great Crusade, the docks of Mars—the homeworld of the Adeptus Mechanicus and the repository of core technology—bore the weight of constructing the most gargantuan dreadnoughts, vessels requiring vast amounts of technological legacy and STC input.
For instance, the Gloriana-class battleships—the flagships of the Astartes Legions and personal vessels of the Primarchs—were born within these Martian cradles. These gifts from the Emperor to His sons were so precious that only the heavyweight entity of Mars, the other head of the Imperial Aquila, could undertake such a responsibility.
Even for the wealthy and resource-rich Mars, designing and constructing a Gloriana-class vessel—of which only twenty-two existed in the entire Imperium—was a staggering burden. For example, the construction of the White Scars' future flagship, the Blade-Storm, consumed nearly seven percent of Mars's total industrial output during its manufacture.
Furthermore, the Primarchs rarely accepted a standardized Gloriana-class design. Each had their own visions and requirements, demanding extensive modifications based on their personal preferences and cultural backgrounds.
These modifications demanded even more manpower and resources. Yet, because these were the requests of the scions of the Omnissiah's Avatar, the Magi and Tech-Priests of the Mechanicus accepted these tasks without hesitation, regardless of their own inclinations.
Now that the Primarch of the Fourth Legion had returned to the Imperium, the Gloriana-class battleship assigned to him was ready to be delivered. With the handover of this vessel, the Primarch would officially begin his service to the Imperium.
To this end, escorted by a squad of Legio Custodes, Perturabo traveled by cruiser from Terra, the cradle of mankind and capital of the Imperium, to Mars, the homeworld of the Cult Mechanicus.
Today, the Iron Tsar would accept his flagship. Simultaneously, he intended to peer into the inner workings of Mars, seeking a deeper understanding of this technological priesthood that shared the Imperium's power with his genetic father.
Even ten thousand years later, after becoming the greatest Archmagos of the entire Adeptus Mechanicus, Belisarius Cawl could still recall that afternoon—the afternoon the Iron Tsar visited the Martian Docks.
At the time, he was merely a young man who had just completed his studies to become a common tech-apprentice. From within the gathered crowds, he watched the magnificent Primarch from afar—the Iron Tsar and the miracles he wrought.
No matter how many memories Cawl would lose over the following ten millennia due to personality overwrites and memory purges, he still remembered the miracle he witnessed that day—a miracle that only the Avatar of the Omnissiah and His own scions could create.
"So this is Mars? The homeworld of the Mechanicus that shares power with Father?"
"I didn't expect the air quality to be this abysmal. No wonder the people here undergo such extensive mechanical augmentation!"
As Perturabo and his Custodian escort descended from their Stormbird, the harsh, metallic air of Mars caused the Primarch to frown. Had Perturabo been a mere mortal and not a Primarch, the caustic atmosphere likely would have triggered immediate pulmonary distress.
Although the Iron Tsar's own aggressive industrialization in Kislev had significantly degraded its air quality, the pollution in Kislev was trivial compared to the absolute environmental saturation of a Forge World like Mars.
"Lord Perturabo, you would do well to restrain yourself. The Adeptus Mechanicus is a political entity independent of Terra; they merely acknowledge the Emperor as their sovereign. You must tread carefully here. As a son of the Emperor, your every word and action represents the Emperor Himself."
Hearing Perturabo's complaint, a Custodian beside him whispered a reminder, signaling the Primarch to watch his language.
"Hmph. I know how to behave. But it is impossible for me to feel any genuine respect for these superstitious fools who worship a so-called 'Omnissiah.' I suspect Father only permits them to view Him as this 'Avatar' out of political expediency."
"Fear not, Custodian. I know what to say and what to keep to myself. I have that much common sense; you need not worry!"
Perturabo let out a cold snort in response to the Custodian's warning, his voice dripping with disdain for the Cult Mechanicus.
At that moment, escorted by several Skitarii, a red-robed Martian Tech-Priest approached Perturabo. A close inspection of his body—nearly entirely replaced by machinery—evidenced a rank and seniority far beyond the norm.
"Honored Son of the Omnissiah, High Tsar of Kislev, Primarch of the Fourth Legion, Lord Perturabo Rurik Kislovsky. I am Archmagos Mars-001, assigned to welcome you."
"Please accept our apologies. Fabrication General Kelbor-Hal intended to greet you personally, but urgent matters required his attention. I have been sent in his stead. Now, allow me to lead you to the docks. The Gloriana-class battleship forged for you is nearing completion and awaits your acceptance."
To Perturabo's surprise, the Archmagos spoke with refined politeness and maintained impeccable decorum.
"I see. Lead the way then. I wish to see for myself this 'Gloriana' vessel Father has gifted me—to see what kind of grand ship she is."
Hearing the Archmagos's apology, the Iron Tsar nodded slightly. Despite his prejudices against the Mechanicus, the dignified reception provided by Mars-001 compelled him to respond with equal courtesy.
"Very well. Please follow me; I shall lead the way." Mars-001 nodded and gestured for them to proceed.