Chapter Text
Lord Inquisitor Maximilian [Redacted] of the Ordo Astartes
I glared at the man before me, digesting the new information Magos Biologas Tetriach had just imparted onto me. I turned my head then, keeping the red robed machine priest in the corner of my vision and beheld his “success”. Out of the sixteen medical stasis units before me, ten were still active and filled with a clear medical gel and a successful subject each.
My eyes caught on subject number eleven, its bulky form closely resembling that of any other space marine with only two distinguishing details. The more minor one was its height, subject eleven and the rest of this batch were of abnormally low stature for fully augmented Space Marines. Yet that wouldn’t have drawn my scrutiny to this particular batch, no what interested me was the difference in their base material that their naked form revealed. That lunatic Tetriach had made space marines from female base stock and with obviously inferior results to boot! The preliminary test results of these ten by themselves should have been enough to shut this project down and yet the Magos had labelled them a success despite their reduced physical capabilities and over thirty percent implantation failure rate.
“Please explain to me Magos, what possessed you to invest so many resources to solve a manpower problem we don’t have, and with a subpar solution to boot.” I hissed as I turned back towards him, my tone low and dangerous.
Yet the machine priest did not flinch as I addressed him or stutter as he began to answer me. No, the ingrate had the nerve to be outright jolly, his synthesised voice raising an octave in excitement as he began to speak! “Of course, Lord Inquisitor, I will gladly impart the chain of logic that led me to this.” the machine priest gestured towards the frozen forms. “You see, my labour on this, my greatest success, began many years before the 21th founding was even an idea that was discussed in the Senatorum Imperialis.” the man began to explain, seemingly determined to inflict his entire life's story onto me.
This was why I preferred working with Astartes, while they were more often than not uncooperative and exceptionally hardheaded, at least they were straight to the point.
“Magos!” I interrupted him a minute into his tale, cutting him off before rephrasing my earlier question. “I did not ask for your life’s story Tetriach, I asked why you not only chose to pursue this doomed line of research, despite the strain it was inflicting on our already stretched budget, but also labelled these failures as success.” I clarified while gesturing to the unconscious forms of his test subjects, before going on. “Because Magos, I’m going to have you and your research terminated within the next hour, unless you can do the impossible and convince me that this project is indeed worth pursuing.”
That seemed to have some success in impressing on the red robed priest the direness of his situation. “Of course Lord! Please excuse my long winded explanation. To answer your question, I believe I have found a solution to the greatest problem facing our Astartes forces, the scarcity of gene-seed.” That monumental pronouncement made me raise an eyebrow.
“Please tell me you didn’t intend to create a breeding stock for space marines?” I couldn’t help but ask, my right hand inching towards the but of my plasma pistol in case that this was the lunatic’s actual intent. The thought of space marines being born, rather than made, horrified me. The fact of the matter was that Space Marines were weapons to the core and one of the few things that kept them manageable was their reliance on gene-seed to grow their number. If they could just have children like anyone else however, then their population was sure to explode, and while that might have short term benefits, they bitter truth was that the transition of the Astartes from a bioweapon to a proper subspecies would likely provoke another great civil war within the Imperium.
“Oh, Omnissiah preserve, no!” exclaimed the machine priest, making me release a breath and some of the tension in my frame. “What I have done is much simpler, I have managed to manipulate the ovaries of my subject into acting as additional progenoid glands, doubling the gene-seed output of these marines from two to four.” Explained the magos, alleviating my fears and replacing them with honest interest.
The greatest limiting factor of the Astartes recruitment was gene-seed, due to the fact that at most two progenoid glands could be harvested from every marine. Of course, the actual number of successfully retrieved gene-seed samples was much lower, around one point five on average during successful operations, simply because the body of the fallen marine either couldn’t be recovered or was outright destroyed. Add to that the relatively high mortality rate among those implanted with the gene-seed, which could be anywhere between eighteen and twenty-five percent, and it should become clear to anyone, with even the most basic education in math, why most chapters were always struggling to maintain their numbers.
These new marines however, if they followed a similar ratio of gene-seed recovery as their male counterpart, should have a much easier time absorbing losses, even with their implantation failure rate of over thirty percent.
Still, a twelve percent decrease in upper body strength, seven point nine percent decrease in running speed, seven point eight decrease in reaction time was a harsh price to pay for this advantage.
“What do you think, Captain Hector, will their diminished combat capability be worth their increased numbers?” I decided to ask the third person in the room with me and the magos: Watch Captain Hector Toyer.
The Captain and his Watch Company had been attached to the development team to train and evaluate the first generation of new marines, the diverse composition of marines within the unit making them and their commander uniquely suited for the position. I thus left the decision to him.
He didn’t answer me immediately, instead he took a minute to think before he answered me. “I believe the loss in combat effectiveness will be much lower than you think.”
“And why is that?” I couldn’t help but ask. “They have underperformed in nearly every physical evaluation and achieved no distinguishing marks in any other test, with the exception of their tactical and strategic thinking evaluation. But even that success can be traced back to the far above average performance of subject eleven, with the rest of the subjects performing only marginally better or worse than the expected average.”
The Death Watch officer nodded his helmed head. “Yes, I’m aware of these facts and that is why I believe there might be hope to salvage something from this.” he said, before he began to explain. “Their scores in the hand-eye coordination, spatial awareness and visual perception evaluations are no worse than those of most other marines, meaning that they shouldn't be at any disadvantage when it comes to the use of bolters and other ranged weapons. And while it is true that they will always be at a disadvantage in close quarters, at least compared to other marines, that is a weakness that can be compensated for with proper tactics and doctrine.”
I nodded my head in acknowledgment of his point, my eyes moving once more to the ten subjects held in cryogenic sleep. Ten, an entire squad ready to be defrosted and deployed. “Watch Captain, I believe we should put your theory to the test and I know exactly how.” I told the marine before turning towards Tetriarch. “Magos, get these ten ready for transportation onto the Oathbound, I believe a field test is in order.”
“Of course Lord Inquisitor, your will be done.” the tech priest answered me, bowing his head, before he addressed me once more a moment later. “Should my colleagues also prepare ten of their own subjects for this evaluation? I’m certain they would be more than happy at the chance to gather real field data.”
I nodded my head. “Yes, they may send me an application if they have a squad ready for testing. After all, if we commit to a field test then we might as well make the most of it.” I answered the magos, before turning to Hector. “I trust finding them a proper testing ground won’t be too difficult?”
The marine shook his head. “It will be no problem, the foes of our Imperium are numerous enough.” he answered me, his deep baritone voice containing a hint of eagerness. I would guess that he went too long without hunting then. Well that was hardly a surprise I supposed, the good Watch Captain had been stuck here on Inculaba for more than ten years at this point.
“I assume that you plan to perform this evaluation yourself then?” I asked, knowing the answer already.