Kayvaan studied the schematic, his mind imagining the grandeur of a sanctum aboard such a vessel. The Lunar-css cruiser, though sidered a medium-sized warship by Imperial standards, was still an immense struct. Its sheer scale dwarfed anything ceived in human history before the Age of the Imperium. Aircraft carriers of aerra would be but specks pared to its massive hull.

  Judging by the yout and scale of the pnned renovations, the cathedral would rival the grandeur of aerran structures like the Cologhedral, but its details far surpassed its terrestrial terpart. Carved reliefs of the Emperor’s triumphs, intricate stained-gss windows depig saints and martyrs, and even a massive an desigo fill the ship with sacred hymns were all part of the pns. However, the practical side of Kayvaan couldn’t ighe absurdity of such a project. On a warship, every meter of space was critical. More ste could mean additional munitions, vital supplies, or resources to extend the crew’s survival in deep space. Instead, they were dedig this prime space to a cathedral.

  Kayvaan couldn’t help but questioionale behind it. Wasn’t this a bit too extravagant? Perhaps “extravagant” wasn’t even the right word. It felt ht absurd. Still, Kayvaan nodded without hesitation, masking his thoughts with a firm expression. “It shall be so,” he said, his voice steady.

  In the Imperium, unwavering reverence for the God-Emperor was not merely expected—it was absolute. Questioning such as could be seen as heresy. Kayvaahis all too well. To question such a project, even internally, was a dangerous line of thought, a matter of survival. “Do you require anything further from us?” Kayvaan asked, steering the subject. “Are there capable Meicus artisans on Mars?”

  Magos's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “Rest assured. If something ot be achieved on Mars, then it ot be achieved anywhere in the Imperium. The Red P is the home of the Adeptus Meicus, the fi minds and hands iehat is good to know,” Kayvaan replied, nodding. “I look forward to seeing the finished chapel. Please, tinue.”

  “Of course, Lord Kayvaan,” Magos said. “After the chapel, we’ll begin augmentations to the apothecarion. It will be fully equipped for both bat surgeries and impntation rites for our warriors. Additionally, we’re removing the dorsal macro-ons on the lower deck to install four drop pod unch bays. Most wars among the stars iably require ground deployments, and these bays will allow for rapid iion of strike forces to pary surfaces.

  Kayvaan nodded. “Ground deployments are the teeth of the Raven Guard. That will suffice.” He paused before shifting slightly forward, his tone low but deliberate. “But what of the ons? We require preagos, not blunt instruments. Have you something to match our doe, or are you indiscriminate devastation again?”

  The Magos’s mechadendrites twitched in what might have been amusement as he slid a data-ste across the table. “I believe this os your requirements: orbital nce arrays capable of precise targeting and focused devastation.”

  "I believe this os your requirements: orbital nce arrays capable of precise targeting and focused devastation."Magos said, pg a data-ste before Kayvaan."Focused devastation, you say?" Kayvaan leaned forward, sing the schematic. "How accurate are we talking?"

  "From lighting the dles on an altar to redug a fortress three levels deep to molten sg," Magos replied with a faint smile.

  "Acceptable," Kayvaan said, nodding. "I’ll need four of these nce arrays and a unch ptform ied into the strike cruiser to deploy arieve them."

  Magos's mechadendrites whirred as he etched the request onto his scroll. After a brief pause, he asked, "Five me, Lord Kayvaan, but may I inquire... urpose will this on serve? Standard bombardments from the ship remain quite suffit for most campaigns."

  Kayvaan leaned back, his tone measured. "Standard bombardments ck trol. Saturation fire has its pce, but it’s far from ideal for striking singur targets. A cruiser like ours ot always hold an advantageous firing position. Worse yet, ventional bombardment allows the eo track our attack vectors back to their in. This ship is newly issioned, Magos, and we ot risk its loss. These ellites, oher hand, are effit, expendable, and easily repced. Should the enemy destroy o is of no great sequence."

  "Logical," Magos ceded with a bow of his head. "The st task remaining is the refurbishment of the hab-blocks and leisure facilities: three training halls, a strategium, and a reserve hangar for auxiliary craft. Modifications will take two Terran months, with the servitors already ehat cludes my report."

  "Well done." Kayvaan gave an approving nod. "Any other matters ing the cruiser?"

  Magos's optics dimmed slightly. "There is ohing, my lord. Protocol requires you to he vessel."

  Kayvaan sighed, fingers drumming on the desk. "Of course. Another o jure. Very well. Call her Ebony Shadow. That has a certain dignity to it. Now, what of Darius?"

  "His gene-sing is plete," Magos replied. "A viable match has been found in the archives. Lord Darius meets all requirements for the operation, and surgery may ence the cruiser is battle-ready."

  "Excellent work, Magos," Kayvaan said, dismissing him with a nod. "You are dismissed. Go recharge—yitators deserve it."

  Magos's joints hissed as he bowed, the faint hum of servos filling the silehank you, Lord Kayvaan," he said before departing the chamber.

  Once alone, Kayvaarieved a thick stack of dossiers from his desk. These were profiles of veteran serfs and trusted Chapter serfs, haed as didates for the Ebony Shadow’s and. Though the role held modest significe within the Chapter hierarchy, aboard the vessel, the chosen captain’s authority would be as absolute as Kayvaan’s own. Every crew-serf, servitor, and thrall aboard would obey without question, for the captain’s word would carry the will of the Chapter Master.

  Kayvaan scrutinized each part, abs every detail, every mark of merit, and every pict-capture. Hours passed before he narrowed the sele to three. But names on a page were not enough—he would o test them personally.

  A creaking door disturbed his focus. Kayvaan looked up to see Darius stumbling in, his blond hair disheveled and his tunikempt. The acrid tang of amasec g to him like smoke. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" Kayvaan’s tone was sharp. "You reek of drink."

  "Hic... who, me?" Darius slurred, straightening as if to feign dignity. "I wouldn’t dare!"

  "Clearly," Kayvaan said dryly, his brow furrowed. "Drinking alone now, are we? Didn’t think to invite me?"

  "You’re always w," Darius said with a lopsided shrug. "Even if I had, you wouldn’t have joined."

  Kayvaan sighed, sinking bato his chair. "Fair. These days, my schedule allows little time for sudulgences. Jacob’s demands see to that."

  In the days before this life, Kayvaan had enjoyed many pastimes, none more so than his appreciation for fine food and drink. The ary mastery of the Imperium was unparalleled, but here—among the stars—nutrient paste and ration packs were a bitter reminder of what he had lost. "To live for food is folly, but to eat without joy is heresy," Kayvaan murmured to himself, shaking off the thought.