The Primarch of Liberty

The gleaming spires of Terra pierced the azure sky as Franklin Valorian's shuttle touched down on the Imperial Palace's landing pad. The Primarch of the Liberty Eagles strode down the ramp, his imposing figure dwarfing the honor guard that accompanied him. At the foot of the ramp stood Malcador the Sigillite, his ancient face set in its usual stoic expression.

Franklin's face split into a wide grin. "Mal! Come here, you old-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Franklin found himself suspended in mid-air, held aloft by an invisible force. Malcador's eyes glowed with psychic energy, a hint of amusement breaking through his stern demeanor.

"Not this time, Lord Franklin," Malcador said, his voice tinged with dry humor. "I may be a perpetual, but I still feel pain. Your enthusiastic greetings have nearly been the death of me on multiple occasions."

Franklin chuckled, hanging comfortably in the air. "Ah, Mal, you're no fun. But I see you've been practicing. Impressive."

Malcador gently lowered the Primarch to the ground. "One must always be prepared, especially when dealing with... exuberant individuals such as yourself."

As they began to walk towards the inner sanctum of the Palace, Franklin's jovial expression sobered slightly. "So, Mal, what's this all about? Why has Father summoned me with such urgency?"

Malcador's face became unreadable. "That is for the Emperor to disclose, Lord Franklin. It is not my place to speak on His behalf in such matters."

Recognizing Malcador's tight-lipped stance, Franklin decided to change the subject. He swept his arm in a grand gesture, taking in the view of the restored Terra. "Well, would you look at that? It's come a long way in just a decade and a half, hasn't it?"

Malcador nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Indeed it has. Your contributions to Terra's restoration have been... significant."

Franklin beamed at the compliment. As they walked, he took in the sights of the once-desolate planet. In the distance, children played in clear blue waters, their laughter carried on the breeze. The skyline, while still dotted with servitors and other grim reminders of the Imperium's nature, was a far cry from the irradiated hellscape it had once been.

"Healthcare, education... it's all coming along nicely," Franklin mused. "Still some work to do, of course, but it's a good start. A fitting image for Father's Imperial Truth, wouldn't you say?"

Malcador's expression softened slightly. "The Emperor's vision is... complex. But yes, this is certainly closer to what He envisioned for humanity's future."

As they approached the Eternity Gate, Franklin's keen eyes were drawn to the intricate frescoes depicting ancient battles. One, in particular, caught his attention - a massive conflict atop what appeared to be a mountain.

"Mal," Franklin said, his voice uncharacteristically serious, "who are these warriors? I don't recognize them from any of the Legiones Astartes."

Malcador's face showed a brief flicker of hesitation, which Franklin caught from the corner of his eye. This only piqued the Primarch's curiosity further.

After a moment of silence, Malcador spoke. "Those, Lord Franklin, are the Thunder Warriors. The battle you see depicted is the Battle of Mount Ararat, the final conflict of the Unification Wars."

Franklin's eyebrows shot up. "Thunder Warriors? I've never heard of them. And who's that one there?" He pointed to a particularly impressive figure in the center of the fresco.

"That," Malcador said, his voice tinged with something akin to reverence, "is Arik Taranis, the greatest of the Thunder Warriors."

Franklin nodded slowly, processing this new information. "Proto-Space Marines, then? Fascinating. But tell me, Mal, why use Space Marines at all if these Thunder Warriors were so effective? Why not continue with them?"

Malcador's expression grew grave. "The Thunder Warriors were... unstable. Powerful beyond measure, yes, but their bodies and minds were not built for longevity. They served their purpose in unifying Terra, but they were not suitable for the Great Crusade that was to follow."

Franklin stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I see. A necessary sacrifice for a bloody unification, then. Terra was the capital of the old Federation during the Golden Age of Humanity, after all. It would have taken exceptional force to bring it to heel."

He paused, considering the implications. "I can understand that. Sometimes, to achieve our goals, we must use tools that are... less than ideal. Perhaps I might have done the same in Father's position."

Malcador watched Franklin carefully, his ancient eyes unreadable. "Indeed, Lord Franklin. The decisions made during the Unification were not easy ones."

Franklin's gaze returned to the fresco, studying the faces of the Thunder Warriors. "At least they died honorably, in battle atop Mount Ararat. A fitting end for such valiant warriors."

If only he knew the real fate of the Thunder Warriors, Malcador thought, his face betraying nothing.

"Say, Mal," Franklin said, a glint of inspiration in his eye, "do you think Father might still have the template for these Thunder Warriors? With the advancements we've made in the Independence Cluster, perhaps we could stabilize and enhance the design. Imagine the possibilities for improving our gene-sons!"

Malcador's response was careful, measured. "The Emperor's designs for the Legiones Astartes are... precise, Lord Franklin. It would be unwise to tamper with them without His explicit approval."

Franklin waved a hand dismissively. "Of course, of course. Just a thought. Always looking to improve, you know me."

As they continued their walk towards the Emperor's inner sanctum, Franklin's mind raced with possibilities. The revelation of the Thunder Warriors had opened up new avenues of thought, new potential strategies for the ongoing Great Crusade.

"You know, Mal," Franklin said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "seeing all this, learning about the Thunder Warriors... it really puts things into perspective. The sacrifices that have been made to get us here, the hard decisions Father has had to make."

Malcador nodded solemnly. "The path to humanity's salvation is not an easy one, Lord Franklin. The Emperor bears burdens that would crush lesser beings."

Franklin pushed open the massive doors to the throne room with a flourish. The chamber was vast, its ceiling lost in shadows far above. At the far end, seated upon the Golden Throne, was the Emperor of Mankind, His presence filling the room with an almost tangible aura of power.

"Father!" Franklin called out, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "You summoned, and here I am. I hope I'm not interrupting your brooding session. I know how much you enjoy those."

As Franklin approached, his enhanced senses picked up a faint scent that gave him pause. Blood. It was barely perceptible, but unmistakable. His mind raced. Who or what could possibly injure the Emperor, surrounded as He was by the finest warriors humanity had ever produced?

Pushing the concerning thought aside, Franklin continued his approach, his usual jovial demeanor intact. "I must say, Father, the renovations are coming along nicely. The whole 'ominous god-emperor' aesthetic really ties the room together."

The Emperor's face remained impassive, but there was a glimmer of something - perhaps amusement? - in His eyes. "Franklin," He spoke, His voice resonating with power. "I'm glad you could come so quickly."

"Well, you know me," Franklin grinned. "Always eager to please. So, what's the big emergency? The Mechanicus reorganizing your filing system again?"

"Your humor, as always, is appreciated," the Emperor said, a hint of dry sarcasm in His tone. "But we have serious matters to discuss."

Franklin's expression sobered slightly. "Of course, Father. What's on your mind?"

The Emperor leaned forward slightly, His gaze intense. "I have discovered an alternative technology for faster-than-light travel. One that could change the course of the Great Crusade and the future of humanity itself."

Franklin's eyebrows shot up. "Well, that certainly sounds important. I'm guessing this is where my Independence Cluster comes in?"

"Indeed," the Emperor nodded. "I need you and your people to create and implement this technology. With haste, and in absolute secrecy."

"Secrecy, haste, and groundbreaking technology? Sounds like a typical Tuesday in the Cluster," Franklin chuckled. "But I'm intrigued. What exactly are we talking about here?"

The Emperor's eyes seemed to glow brighter. "Brace yourself, my son. This information is... substantial."

Franklin had just enough time to look puzzled before he felt the full force of the Emperor's mind connect with his own. Suddenly, his consciousness was awash with images, concepts, and information beyond anything he had ever experienced.

He saw the rise and fall of the Necrontyr, their bitter war against the Old Ones, the birth of the C'tan. Countless eons of history flashed before his mind's eye in an instant. And then, amidst the deluge of information, he saw it - the inertialess drive. The principles behind it, the potential applications, the sheer revolutionary nature of the technology.

As suddenly as it began, the transfer of knowledge ended. Franklin staggered, his face turning an interesting shade of green. His mind reeled, trying to process the vast amount of information that had just been crammed into it.

"I... wow," Franklin managed to gasp out. "That was... intense. Did you perhaps consider, I don't know, writing it down instead?"

The Emperor's expression remained stoic, but there was a hint of concern in His voice. "The information was too sensitive to risk physical documentation. Are you alright, my son?"

Franklin opened his mouth to respond, but instead of words, he felt a sudden, urgent need rising in his throat. A nearby Custodian, sensing the impending disaster, quickly moved to Franklin's side.

"I think I need to... excuse me," Franklin managed to say before the Custodian began hurriedly escorting him out of the throne room.

The journey to the nearest facilities was a blur of golden corridors and the growing certainty that Franklin was about to lose control of his digestive system in a very undignified manner. Finally, mercifully, they reached their destination.

What followed was a symphony of retching that would have made even Nurgle wince. Franklin's enhanced physiology, usually a blessing, now seemed like a curse as it allowed him to vomit with superhuman efficiency.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, Franklin emerged from the facilities. His face was pale, but he managed to summon up his trademark grin as he looked at the Custodian who had patiently waited outside.

"Well," Franklin said, wiping his mouth, "that's one way to clear the sinuses. And probably several other organs. Thanks for the escort, by the way. I don't think I caught your name in all the excitement."

The Custodian, his face impassive behind his ornate helm, replied, "Ra... Ra Endymion."

Franklin's grin widened. "Ra Endymion! A pleasure to meet you under such... memorable circumstances. I do hope this little incident won't make it into the official records. 'Primarch loses lunch after father-son chat' doesn't quite have the gravitas we're going for, you know?"

Ra remained stoic, but there was a hint of something - perhaps amusement? - in his voice as he replied, "I assure you, Lord Franklin, the Emperor's Custodians are the very soul of discretion."

"Glad to hear it," Franklin chuckled. "Now, shall we head back? I'm sure Father is eagerly awaiting my profound insights on the future of faster-than-light travel. Or at least confirmation that I didn't redecorate His hallways."

As they made their way back to the throne room, Franklin's mind was already racing, processing the information he had received. The inertialess drive... it was revolutionary, to say the least. If they could implement it successfully, it would change everything. The Great Crusade, the future of the Imperium, perhaps even the nature of humanity's relationship with the Warp itself.

Reaching the throne room doors, Franklin paused, turning to Ra. "You know, Ra, I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other in the future. Try not to let my dazzling personality and rugged good looks distract you from your duties, eh?"

Ra's response was typically stoic. "I assure you, Lord Franklin, that will not be a problem."

With a final chuckle, Franklin pushed open the doors and strode back into the throne room, his jovial mask firmly in place despite the weight of knowledge now sitting heavily in his mind.

"Father!" he called out. "I return, slightly worse for wear but ready to discuss the future of humanity. And possibly the contents of my stomach, though I assure you, that particular topic has been thoroughly covered already."

The Emperor regarded His son with an inscrutable expression. "I trust you are feeling better?"

Franklin waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, much better. Nothing like a good purge to really drive home the importance of galaxy-changing revelations. Now, shall we discuss this inertialess drive of yours? I have to say, it's quite the party trick. Though perhaps next time, we could start with something simpler. The history of the galaxy in interpretive dance, perhaps?"

As father and son began their discussion in earnest, the fate of the Imperium hanging in the balance, Franklin couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. The road ahead would be challenging, filled with secrets and potential dangers. But then again, he mused, that's what made life interesting.

As the weighty discussion with the Emperor concluded, Franklin Valorian rose from his seat, his mind still reeling from the monumental task ahead. The fate of the Imperium, perhaps even humanity itself, now rested partially on his shoulders. Yet, true to his nature, the Primarch of the Liberty Eagles maintained his jovial exterior.

"Well, Father," Franklin said, stretching dramatically, "it's been enlightening, as always. Who knew family reunions could be so... revolutionary?"

The Emperor's face remained impassive, but there was a hint of fondness in His voice. "Indeed. I trust you understand the gravity of your mission, Franklin?"

"Crystal clear," Franklin replied, tapping his temple. "It's all up here, along with a splitting headache and possibly the recipe for the galaxy's best recaff. Your data dumps are quite thorough."

Malcador, standing nearby, cleared his throat. "Remember, Lord Franklin, absolute secrecy is paramount."

Franklin gave a mock salute. "Don't worry, Mal. My lips are sealed tighter than a Mechanicus vault during a binary cant convention."

As he made his way towards the exit, Franklin's eyes fell upon the golden figure of Ra Endymion, standing guard in a corner of the vast chamber. A mischievous glint appeared in the Primarch's eyes.

"Ra, my stoic friend!" Franklin called out, approaching the Custodian. "I can't leave without a proper goodbye. How about a fist bump for the road?"

Ra remained motionless, his expression hidden behind his ornate helm. For a moment, it seemed as though he would ignore the Primarch's request entirely.

Franklin, undeterred, held out his fist. "Come on, don't leave me hanging. It's not every day you get to fist bump a Primarch. Well, unless you're in my Legion, then it's practically mandatory."

After what seemed like an eternity, Ra slowly, almost imperceptibly, raised his fist and gently tapped it against Franklin's. The Primarch's face split into a wide grin.

"There we go! I knew you had it in you. You're practically one of the Liberty Eagles now. Just need to work on your sense of humor... and maybe lose the golden onesie."

Ra's voice, when he spoke, was as stoic as ever. "I assure you, Lord Franklin, that will not be necessary."

Franklin chuckled, patting Ra on the shoulder. "We'll see about that. I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other. Try not to miss me too much, eh?"

With a final wave to his Father and Malcador, Franklin strode towards the exit. As he reached the massive doors, he turned back one last time.

"Well, it's been fun, family. Don't do anything I wouldn't do while I'm gone. Which, admittedly, doesn't rule out much."

As the doors closed behind him, Franklin's jovial expression faded slightly. The weight of his new mission settled upon him like a physical presence. The future of faster-than-light travel, the potential to reshape the very nature of the Great Crusade... it was a lot to process.

But as he made his way to his waiting ship, Franklin felt a familiar excitement building within him. This was a challenge unlike any he had faced before, and he was ready to meet it head-on.

As his ship lifted off, carrying him back to the Independence Cluster, Franklin smirked. And if nothing else, he had a great story to tell at the next family gathering. Assuming, of course, that Ra kept his word about discretion.

--------------------------------------

Deep beneath the crust of Nova Libertas, in a facility so secret that even most high-ranking officials of the Independence Cluster were unaware of its existence, Franklin Valorian stood before a group of the finest scientific minds humanity had to offer. The room, filled with humming machinery and holographic displays, was colloquially known as "Area 51" - a name that never failed to bring a smirk to Franklin's face.

"Alright, eggheads," Franklin announced, clapping his hands together. "Time to make history. Or unmake it. I'm not entirely sure which at this point."

Dr. Elara Chen, head of bio-engineering, raised an eyebrow. "I assume this has something to do with the data you're about to upload to SMARTASS?"

Franklin grinned. "Ah, you know me so well, Elara. Yes, we're about to feed our Systematic Matrix for Advanced Real-Time Computational and Analytical Systems a feast of information that would give most cogitators indigestion."

Dr. Marcus Hawthorne, head of Voidship Engineering, groaned. "I still can't believe we let you name our most advanced quantum computer 'SMARTASS'."

"Hey, it's catchy, it's memorable, and it's accurate," Franklin retorted, donning a specialized helmet. "Now, brace yourselves. This might get a little... intense."

As Franklin connected to the system, streams of data began flowing across the numerous screens surrounding them. The assembled scientists watched in awe as information about an ancient race called the Necrontyr and their incredible technology flickered before their eyes.

Dr. Hiromi Suzuki, head of Cybernetics, was the first to break the stunned silence. "This... this is incredible. The mastery over the material realm that these Necrontyr possessed... it's beyond anything we've ever seen."

Chief Engineer Amelia Cortez nodded in agreement. "If a race with this level of technology still existed, we'd be in serious trouble. Thank the Emperor they're extinct."

Franklin, removing his helmet, chuckled. "Well, according to this data, we can thank the 'Old Ones' and the Aeldari for that. Seems there was quite the shindig called the 'War in Heaven'. Makes our current crusade look like a bar brawl in comparison."

Dr. Chen's eyes were still glued to the screens. "The Aeldari... we've encountered their remnants, haven't we? To think they once ruled the galaxy alongside the peak of human civilization."

"Indeed," Franklin mused. "Though from what I gather, humanity at its peak managed to hold its own against the knife-eared drama queens. Either we were that good, or they weren't really trying to wipe us out. Personally, I like to think it's because they were intimidated by our dashing good looks and superior fashion sense."

The scientists chuckled, but their faces quickly turned serious as they delved deeper into the data. Hours passed as they pored over the information, discussing, debating, and theorizing.

Finally, Dr. Hawthorne spoke up. "Lord Franklin, we've made some preliminary analyses of the inertialess drive concept. It's... well, it's revolutionary, to put it mildly. But there's a problem."

Franklin leaned forward, his jovial demeanor fading slightly. "Let's hear it, Marcus."

"The energy requirements are astronomical," Hawthorne explained. "Our current nuclear fusion reactors wouldn't even come close. We'd need something on the scale of... well, half a star, to be honest."

A moment of silence fell over the room. Then, Franklin's face lit up with a grin. "Well, then. Looks like we're going to need a bigger battery. Or, more accurately, a Dyson Sphere."

The scientists exchanged glances. Dr. Suzuki spoke up, "A Dyson Sphere? That's... ambitious, to say the least. But even if we could build one, we've lost the technology to store and harness that kind of power. It was lost during the Age of Strife."

Franklin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Then that's our first objective. We need to create a material that can withstand and store the power of a star. No pressure, right?"

Despite the enormity of the task before them, the scientists couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. This was the kind of challenge they lived for.

"Alright, team," Franklin said, clapping his hands together. "Let's break this down. Elara, I want you looking into biological systems that can withstand extreme energy conditions. Maybe we can learn something from life forms that exist near thermal vents or in radiation-soaked environments."

Dr. Chen nodded, already jotting down notes. "I'll start with extremophiles and work my way up from there."

"Marcus," Franklin continued, "you're our void-ship expert. I need you to start thinking about how we'd construct something on the scale of a Dyson Sphere. What materials would we need? How would we maintain it? How do we keep it from collapsing under its own gravity?"

Hawthorne's eyes were distant, his mind already racing with calculations. "It's a monumental task, but... not impossible. I'll start running simulations immediately."

"Hiromi," Franklin turned to the cybernetics expert, "I want you to look into how we interface with this kind of power. We're talking about energy levels that would fry most systems. We need something that can handle the input and output without melting down."

Dr. Suzuki nodded, a determined glint in her eye. "I'll start by reviewing what we know of Dark Age technology. Perhaps we can reverse-engineer some principles."

"And Amelia," Franklin addressed the Chief Engineer, "you're going to be the lynchpin here. Once we have ideas from all fields, you need to figure out how to make them work together. It's going to be like solving a puzzle where the pieces keep changing shape, but I have faith in you."

Cortez grinned. "Sounds like my kind of challenge, Lord Franklin."

As the scientists dispersed to their respective workstations, Franklin found himself looking around the secret facility. Area 51... he chuckled to himself, remembering how the name came about.

It had been during the initial construction of the facility. Franklin had been overseeing the plans when one of the engineers had asked what they should call it.

"Well," Franklin had mused, "it's a secret base, hidden from sight, where we're going to be working on technology so advanced it might as well be alien... Let's call it Area 51."

The engineer had looked confused. "Area 51, sir? Is that a reference to something?"

Franklin had just grinned. "Let's just say it's a callback to an old Terran legend. Sometimes the best way to hide something is to make it sound so ridiculous that no one believes it exists."

And so, Area 51 was born. A name that was both a joke and a nod to humanity's past, housing research that would shape its future.

As Franklin watched his team of eggheads hard at work, he felt a swell of pride. These were some of the finest minds in the Imperium, possibly in all of human history. If anyone could crack the secrets of the inertialess drive and harness the power of a star, it was them.

"Lord Franklin," SMARTASS's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Initial simulations are complete. Would you like to review the results?"

Franklin smiled. Even the AI's voice had a slight sarcastic tone to it - another of his little jokes that had somehow made it into the final programming.

"Hit me with it, SMARTASS," he replied. "And don't spare the details. You know how I love a good bedtime story."

As the AI began its report, Franklin settled in for a long night. The path ahead was challenging, perhaps even impossible by some standards. But then again, the impossible was just another Tuesday for the Liberty Eagles.

And as for Franklin Valorian, the Liberator? Well, he was ready to liberate humanity from the constraints of conventional physics itself. All in a day's work for a Primarch with a sense of humor and a secret base called Area 51.