After Sage Olivia's persuasive explanation, Luka reluctantly shelved his dream of establishing a forge world. Still, the spark of securing a forge and a casting ark for Olivia—to ensure a steady supply of weapons and equipment—burned brightly in his mind. As a traditionalist at heart, Luka couldn't stomach relying on others for logistics. Self-sufficiency was non-negotiable.
Olivia, too, was intrigued by the prospect of her own forge and ark. Their shared enthusiasm led to a swift agreement: she would aid Luka in developing Rostov II, and in return, he'd help her establish a forge on one of the planet's moons, complete with a casting ark.
With the deal sealed, Olivia deactivated the soundproof force field. Curious glances from those nearby flickered toward them, but Luka's inquisitorial rosette silenced any questions. On a remote, newly settled colony like Rostov II, no one dared challenge the Inquisition's authority—not even the boldest nobles.
With Olivia's cooperation secured, Luka turned his attention to meeting the planet's key figures, eager to solidify his role as governor.
Rachel, ever diligent, stood at his side. "Governor, this is General Gregory, commander of the Planetary Defense Force, overseeing its training and operations."
"Greetings, honored Inquisitor!" Gregory, clad in a crisp military uniform, snapped a sharp salute, addressing Luka by his inquisitorial title rather than governor. A Mortal Aquila medal gleamed on his chest.
Luka's eyes lingered on the medal, a smile tugging at his lips. "Served in the Astra Militarum, I take it?"
"Yes, sir," Gregory replied, his chest swelling with pride. "I was a major in the 514th Valhalla Regiment, though that was seventy years ago."
"Valhalla Ice Warriors?" Luka's eyebrows shot up, genuinely surprised. "This desert must feel worlds apart from your icy homeland. Do you find it hard to adjust?"
Gregory's expression remained steady, though a flicker of nostalgia danced in his eyes. "As Astra Militarum, we've fought on countless worlds, each stranger than the last. You learn to adapt."
Luka nodded, impressed. The Mortal Aquila, dubbed the "Boring Hero" by some, was no small honor. It marked Gregory as an exceptional officer, a survivor of the Imperium's brutal campaigns where the average soldier lasted mere hours. "Your efforts have shaped Rostov II into a new home. I'm grateful for that."
Before Rachel could introduce the next figure, a portly man in a finely tailored suit stepped forward, bowing deeply. "Greetings, esteemed Governor! I am Ochumelov, your court treasurer."
Luka sized him up, noting the slick demeanor that screamed "bureaucrat." But he didn't judge. "As treasurer, I trust you're prepared to serve. I'm unfamiliar with Rostov II's finances. Please compile a concise report within three days so I can plan accordingly."
"Consider it done, my lord," Ochumelov replied smoothly, his confidence suggesting competence beneath the polished exterior. "The report will be on your desk promptly."
Luka clapped the man's shoulder, a gesture of trust. "I'm counting on you."
A parade of lesser dignitaries followed, none significant enough for Rachel to highlight. Luka greeted them courteously but committed few to memory.
Then came a priest of the Ecclesiarchy, his robes adorned with sacred sigils. He bowed solemnly. "Greetings, noble Governor. Bishop Theodosius, being advanced in age, could not attend. He sends his apologies and congratulations on your appointment. Should you visit the Ecclesiarchy Cathedral, he will personally conduct a Mass in your honor, blessed by the Emperor."
"Please convey my thanks to His Eminence," Luka said warmly, his tone reverent. "The Ecclesiarchy's needs are my own. Spreading the Emperor's faith is our shared duty."
"Your piety shines like the stars," the priest replied, clearly pleased by Luka's devotion. He urged Luka to visit the cathedral soon before stepping aside.
Luka took the request seriously. In the Warhammer universe, faith in the Emperor wasn't just symbolic—it repelled daemonic horrors. Maintaining strong ties with the Ecclesiarchy was critical to keep Chaos at bay. But he'd need to tread carefully, ensuring no extremist factions within the church gained influence. Some were as deranged as Chaos cults, their zeal bordering on madness.