"Of course, as a biologis sage, my expertise lies in crafting self-sustaining ecosystems," Olivia said, her voice brimming with quiet confidence. "I'm working to transform Rostov II from a barren desert into a paradise world. I don't expect you to grasp the full scope of my work, but I hope you'll support it as the previous governor did."
Luka's eyes widened, a spark of astonishment flickering across his face. Turning a desert into a paradise world? The ambition was staggering. Such technology wasn't unheard of in the Warhammer universe—humans, Eldar, and even the Tau had their versions, though efficiency varied. The Tau, with their compact empire, had honed planetary terraforming to a fine art. The Eldar, with sixty million years of galactic dominance, could reshape worlds in mere decades with minimal resources.
And the Imperium? The Mechanicus possessed the know-how, no question. They could realign a planet's orbit, flatten mountains, and convert entire worlds into sprawling agricultural plains, tilled by machines dwarfing even Warlord Titans. But the Mechanicus rarely bothered. To them, such efforts were inefficient, a distraction from their dogma of radiation as a divine gift and flesh as a flaw to be replaced by steel.
"I can appreciate the brilliance of your work," Luka said, a grin tugging at his lips. "And I'm guessing your… unconventional views explain why you lack Skitarii. Called a heretic often, I take it?"
Olivia's expression darkened, a shadow of resentment crossing her face. "You're not wrong. My peers see me as a deviant. It's why I'm denied the respect a sage deserves—no Skitarii, no forge world support." Her voice hardened with resolve. "But if I complete my research, I'll prove them wrong. They'll see the value of my work."
Luka raised an eyebrow, his tone blunt but careful. "Even if you succeed, won't your tech clash with Mechanicus doctrine? The Omnissiah's teachings don't exactly embrace green worlds over gears."
Olivia's gaze turned sharp, her mechanical axe seeming to loom larger for a moment, as if poised to strike. But she exhaled, reining in her impulse. "You're right. My colleagues, blinded by dogma, can't see the value of a paradise world to the Imperium. They think replacing flesh with metal is the only path to honor the Omnissiah. My mentor taught me otherwise—that we're not priests, but scientists, heirs to the Golden Age's pioneers."
Luka's breath caught. "Your mentor… was it—"
"You know of him?" Olivia's eyes lit up with surprise.
"Belisarius Cawl," Luka said, almost reverently. "I never imagined meeting one of his disciples."
Olivia's expression softened, tinged with melancholy. "I studied under him briefly. He might not even recall me—a fleeting student among many."
Luka bit back a comment. He knew Cawl's reputation—his countless clones, each handling distinct tasks across his forge ark. Olivia might have learned from a mere fragment of the great sage, but that still made her formidable.
She rallied quickly, her voice steady. "If you support my research, I'll offer my knowledge as a consultant. It's all I have to trade."
"Knowledge is the universe's greatest currency," Luka replied, his mind racing. The Emperor's handed me an SSR-tier ally—a Cawl disciple, marginalized and ripe for recruitment. "I'll back you, Sage Olivia. But I have a bolder idea: with enough resources, could you build your own forge world here?"
Olivia blinked, caught off guard. "A forge world? Rostov II lacks the output to sustain one. Besides, this sector already has a forge world—the Mechanicus won't tolerate competition."
Luka's grin widened. He saw potential where she saw limits, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity slip.