Fort Horizon, Studio.
On the massive holographic screen, a red light dot located in near-Earth orbit was displayed.
"Did the scan results come out yet?"
Andy strode in, his yellow robe kicking up a gust of wind as he moved. The six black hovering units behind him were exceptionally eye-catching under the lights.
Gamma-9 and Power were both present. Seeing Andy's new look, the two visibly froze for a moment, their eyes containing a trace of fear toward that unknown technology alongside their reverence.
"Sc—scanned it out, my Lord."
Gamma-9 snapped back to reality and hurriedly projected the data onto the main screen.
"It is a cruiser, roughly 4.5 kilometers in length."
"Judging by its appearance characteristics and energy readings, it does not look like an Imperial Navy warship, nor does it resemble a Mechanicus exploration vessel."
In the projection, the outline of that ship gradually grew clear.
Its design was extremely bizarre, one could even say somewhat... chaotic.
The hull was covered in patches and welding marks, and in some places, massive external armor plates hung off it, looking like some kind of retrofitted tumors.
The prow was a menacing bull-shaped ram, painted with bright red oil paint.
Hanging off both sides of the ship were dozens of auxiliary engine pods meant for atmospheric flight, making it look like a metallic centipede with far too many legs.
Andy was all too familiar with this style full of wildness and utilitarianism.
"A Rogue Trader's ship," Andy judged.
Only those guys wandering on the fringe of Imperial law—scavenging junk, conducting business, and fighting pirates in unknown sectors—would modify a ship into such a monstrosity.
This vessel had clearly been through countless battles and refits; every patch was a story, and every non-standard macrocannon was proof of a black-market deal.
"What message did they send?" Andy asked.
"An audio recording, as well as a coordinate request."
Six took control of the communications console and played the recording.
"Bzzzt... This is... the Minotaur..." Bzzzt...
A rough, slightly drunken male voice came through the speaker.
"I am Captain Huck Aquir."
"Whoever is down there... listen up..."
"I'm passing through here... my engines are overheating a bit... I need to find a place to berth... and do a little business while I'm at it..."
"I know things have been pretty lively down there recently... don't be nervous... I'm just passing through..."
"Send me your port coordinates... or point me toward some flat ground that can park a big guy..."
"If you dare open fire on me... I'll level your crappy place flat... Bzzzt... Over."
The recording ended.
Silence fell over the command room.
Power scratched his head. "This guy... sounds a bit sketchy, doesn't he?"
"How many Rogue Traders aren't sketchy?" Andy sneered.
Those guys possessed a Warrant of Trade issued by the Empire—essentially a "license to plunder."
Within the Imperial domain, they could barely manage to act like noble gentlemen.
Once they stepped outside the Imperial borders into the chaotic edges of an expanse, they became the biggest pirate lords around.
Robbery, extortion, and alien artifact smuggling were their daily bread.
This guy named Huck said he was just passing through—who would believe that?
A wasteland planet like Zais, where not even birds dropped dung, had neither rare minerals nor interstellar route intersections; it was nothing but endless war.
What sane person would just pass through here?
He must have caught a scent and come running, perhaps hearing that a new force had dropped out of the sky here.
Regardless of the reason, this ship hanging overhead right now was a massive threat.
"My Lord, do we respond?" Gamma-9 asked. "Or do we directly activate the air defense systems?"
"Air defense?"
Andy glanced at that huge red light dot. "Our few cannons have a hard time even dealing with landships, and you want to hit a cruiser?"
At this stage, Deep Space Industries truly lacked anti-orbital strike capabilities.
This had always been a sore spot for Andy; their air superiority was strictly limited to the inner atmosphere, and beyond it, they were completely blind.
"Connect to him," Andy decided. "Since he says he wants to do business, we'll talk to him."
"It just so happens that we're currently lacking many things, especially rare materials."
"A Rogue Trader's cargo hold is usually stuffed full of those good things."
"Six, establish a communication link."
"Understood."
A few seconds later, the screen flickered, and a real-time feed appeared.
point on the screen was a messy bridge, littered everywhere with wine bottles and bones of unknown creatures.
Sitting right in the center was a heavily bearded man.
The man wore a gorgeous yet greasy captain's uniform, holding a roasted poultry thigh in his hand and tearing into it wildly.
Noticing the screen change, he swallowed the meat in his mouth and wiped his face with his sleeve.
"Yo, finally connected."
Captain Huck grinned, revealing a mouth full of gold-trimmed teeth.
"I thought you hillbillies down there didn't even know how to use a communicator."
His gaze swept across the screen before finally locking onto Andy.
To be precise, it locked onto Andy's bright yellow robe and the six strange hovering units behind him.
Huck's eyes froze slightly, and his previously careless attitude toned down a notch.
He knew his stuff.
Although he had never seen this specific design before, he could sense the overwhelming aura of "high technology" washing over him.
Especially those six hovering objects—they had no thruster nozzles at all and relied entirely on anti-gravity means to float. In current Imperial technology, that was a rare piece of high-end gear.
"Looks like... I didn't pick the wrong place this time."
Huck put down the bone in his hand and sat up straight.
"I am Huck Aquir, master of the Minotaur, holding a Rogue Trader Warrant issued by Holy Terra."
"Who are you? State your name."
"Andy."
"Head of Deep Space Industries."
"Deep Space Industries?" Huck raised an eyebrow. "Never heard of it. Newly opened?"
"You could say that." Andy didn't want to ramble on this topic. "You said you wanted to do business?"
"That's right."
Huck waved his broad hand.
"My ship ran into some trouble in the Warp. Even though we cleared it, we consumed a lot of supplies and broke several parts."
"I need resupply: fuel, food, ammunition, and those high-grade alloys capable of repairing ships."
"I have money, and I have cargo."
"As long as your goods are good, price isn't an issue."
Andy's electronic eye flickered.
Repairing ships?
Now that was right down his alley.
The thing Andy lacked least right now was ship repair materials and equipment.
The alloy plates printed out by the Restructure Unit were top-tier goods that even Zor had praised relentlessly.
Furthermore, if he could pull this Rogue Trader's ship into his business circle, Deep Space Industries would effectively gain an interstellar trade route.
That was far better than fighting over scraps with native warlords on a ruined rock like Zais.
"We have what you want," Andy said indifferently. "But we don't take Imperial Credits."
"Knowing the rules, eh?" Huck chuckled. "I don't like that trash paper either."
"I trade by barter."
"No problem," Andy nodded. "We have things we lack as well."
"However, my landing pad cannot hold your cruiser."
Although the plaza at Fort Horizon was large, it was meant for shuttles.
If a 4.5-kilometer-long cruiser came crashing down, the entire industrial zone would be finished.
"Thirty kilometers north of the city, there is a flat stretch of alkali flatland."
Andy operated the console briefly.
"You can land your ship there."
"However, I warn you."
"Once you land, shut down all weapon systems and lock your fire-control radars."
"If your cannons dare point toward my city by even a single centimeter, I will let you know why we can stand firm on this land."
Huck froze for a second before bursting into a fit of laughter.
"Hahaha! Good! You've got guts!"
"I love doing business with people who have guts!"
"Relax, I'm here for profit, not war. As long as the trade is fair, we're brothers."
"Coordinates received, I'm heading down now."
The transmission cut out.
The red light dot began to descend slowly, breaking out of orbit and plunging into the atmosphere.
"Gamma-9."
Andy turned around and issued commands.
"Have the engineering team prepare samples. Bring out our best alloy plates and precision-machined parts."
"Cicefron, go prepare a procurement list."
"The things we need are mainly rare metals, high-grade electronic components, and star charts regarding the Halo Stars."
"Additionally..." Andy looked toward Power. "Warm up all our anti-air firepower for me, and secretly deploy all Iron Ostriches to firing positions."
"If that guy dares to play tricks, we'll turn his landing into a boxed funeral."
Half an hour later, on the alkali flatlands north of Fort Horizon.
A massive shadow blanketed the earth.
Carrying rolling heatwaves and a roaring thunder, the Minotaur slowly descended.
The engines whipped up a sky-covering sandstorm, creating an extraordinarily spectacular scene.
When the behemoth finally settled and its massive landing gear sank deep into the ground, the entire earth trembled for it.
Andy, bringing along Cicefron and a squad of fully armed heavy escorts in an off-road vehicle fleet, had long been waiting at a safe distance.
The hatch on the ship's belly opened, and a broad gangway extended downward.
Captain Huck walked down with a group of crew members who similarly looked fierce, murderous, and well-equipped.
They held no weapons in their hands; instead, they were pushing several massive hovering cargo containers.
Andy went up to meet them.
The two groups stood face-to-face amidst the swirling yellow sand.
On one side were the Deep Space Industry guards wearing black exoskeletons and brimming with a cold, industrial style; on the other side were the Rogue Trader crew members wearing all sorts of odd attire, hung with trinkets and tattoos.
Their visual styles were starkly different, but their presence was equally formidable.
"Is this your boss?"
Huck looked at Andy standing at the very front, sizing him up from top to bottom.
"This yellow robe... is quite distinctive."
"Are you from the Mechanicus?"
"No," Andy answered very crisply. "I'm just a farmer."
"Hahaha, good, I get it!"
Huck laughed loudly and patted a cargo container beside him.
"Come on, farmer, take a look at my goods."
He pressed the switch, and the container opened.
Inside, it was not loaded with gold or silver treasures, but rather a full container of...
It was a type of crystalline ore emitting a faint blue glow, every piece the size of a fist with neat facets.
"What is this?" Cicefron leaned over to take a look, failing to recognize it.
"This is called the 'Tears of the Void,'" Huck introduced proudly.
"Mined from a dead world on the edge of the expanse, it's a top-tier material for manufacturing advanced optical lenses and focusing crystals."
"Since your name is 'Deep Space Industries,' I figure you ought to be interested in this."
Andy's electronic eye locked onto those crystals in an instant.
[Material Identification: High-purity Psionic Resonance Crystal.]
[Usage: High-energy laser amplification, Warp signal filtering, Warp energy focusing lens array...]
This was good stuff!
Earlier, Andy was stressing over the lack of super-diamonds to repair the Geller Field.
He hadn't expected a substitute to be delivered right to his doorstep!
"Good stuff," Andy nodded, his tone remaining calm.
"We'll take it."
"Name your price, what do you want in exchange?"
Huck chuckled and pointed at the guard team behind Andy.
"I want ship repair materials, that goes without saying."
"But I also want..."
His finger pointed toward the unique CBS-12 high-explosive crossbows held in the guards' hands.
"That."
"And your exoskeleton that looks like decent quality. Those two things of yours would definitely be useful in boarding actions."
Andy narrowed his eyes; this guy had quite a sharp eye.
In a single glance, he had picked out Deep Space Industries' flagship products.
"We can sell the weapons," Andy said. "But the exoskeletons are not for sale; that is exclusive gear for our internal personnel."
"However..."
Andy changed the subject.
"If you can get me a detailed star chart of the Halo Stars, or a shipment of actual Adamantite."
"I might consider custom-making a batch of even higher-end exoskeletons for you."
"Deal!"
Huck agreed extremely readily. Clearly, he also understood the principle of asking high and settling low.
"Adamantite... how much do you want?"
"Not much."
"Get me twenty-three hundred tons first."
Huck: (ΩAΩ)?