"We'll stay," you say, as Durge nods.


"Well... this'll be interesting," Meliodas grins, twisting Meliodas' daemonic face.


"Alright," Elios grunts. "What's next on the agenda?"


"The ship," Primus says. "Or me, for lack of a better word. I have gotten it running to a degree and it's capable of travel, there's no way it will be able to hold up in a fight or operate long-term."


"How do we fix it?" you ask.


"The death of the Tech-Priests has left us lacking men specialized to repair the ship. I've found three groups that could hypothetically fulfill that role, as well as two other solutions."


"Go on," you reply.


"There is the Rutherford-Dalton-Boyle Think Tank, a faction hidden away in several space stations, researching and creating in the gas giant of Ingenium-IV. A good negotiator should be able to convince at least some of them to leave their stations to come aboard the Roar of the Vortex to continue their research aboard our vessel as well as having access to huge archives of intelligence here, being able to research the ship and maintaining that the technology isn't lost."


"Who else?" you ask, 


"The Iron Smiths of Daeranthium. Daeranthium is a planet that contains several ancient factories and forges, with massive amounts of resources such as huge, ancient mines. The planet, while tribal in culture, are advanced enough to produce weapons, vehicles, armor and more for the Imperium. We could attempt to negotiate with them to take some of their men aboard to fulfill the role of engineers."


"And the final group?"


"The Dark Mechanicus is Chaos' version of the Adeptus Mechanicus, whether it be those from the Adeptus Mechanicus who went rogue and were corrupted by Chaos, or those recruited by them. Their work requires manpower that they don't have. I've found reports of a Dark Mechanicus group known as the Harbringers of Menedez. They've already made a reputation for selling slaves trained with skills such as the ones we desire. For five million Thrones, we could have them soon to fulfill the required role."


"You said you have two other options. What are they?"


"Option one involves the funding an education program to educate the mutant workers. For ten million Thrones, we could educate the mutant population. They wouldn't be as experienced as other options, but quantity has a whole quality all it's own."


"And...?" you say before Primus interrupts you. The


"Option two is more cruel. We have the technology and cybernetics taken from the dead Techpriests and Servitors. If you were willing to lobotomize a few of the mutant workers we have, the least intelligent and productive, to create a new legion of servitors under my control. This would be cheap, effective and we could have it done in the night to avoid breaking night, framing it as accidents. So, which option shall it be?"

You visit the Rutherford-Dalton-Boyle Think Tank

Your shuttle slowly enters the gas giant, as you lose visibility of the outside. You immediately begin to feel nervous, even though your new pilot, a young and newly liberated slave by the name of Hawkins, assures you that his sensors can tell everything that's going on with ease.


"Who are you?" a voice comes over the comms system.


"Commander? You want to answer that?" Hawkins asks, as you grab the radio.


"The name's Karth," you say. "I'm here to make a deal."


"Go on..." the voice replies.


"We'd like to hire your men to work and repair our vessel."


"In exchange for?"


"We'll feed you, cloth you, give you board, medical attention, allow you access to our vast databanks of information, let you research the ship as well as continue your research."


"Hmmm... come aboard," the voice comes back.


Through the scans of your ship, the space station is made out to be a large vessel made of a large ring around a central sphere. Your shuttle docks, and the doors open. 


The men on the other side are... simply aren't men. It seems they've taken cybernetization to an insane degree. All that remains of their organic forms are bright pink brains floating in tanks of green fluid.


One is a tank attached to a cylindrical body with tiny, stumpy legs and dozens of long tentacles with various tools attached to the ends.


Another is a levitating, odd shape with a single long, segmented arm ending in a three-pronged claw, as well as multiple tubes situated at the front, holding things such as cathode rays, magnetic beams and a small bunsen burner.


The rest are all just as weird, lacking forms that were even vaguely humanoid. One, a brain jar hanging from four long legs, slowly walks forward, peering down at you with green electronic eyes.


"You must be Karth," it says in a dull, monotone voice. "My name is Dr Malakai the Skull Taker."


"Malakai the Skull taker?" you ask, curiously.


"We all have wild lives before the call of academia takes us, do we now?" Dr Malakai says. "I most certainly did."


"What does this institute do?"


"We're an institute of former techpriests dedicated to knowledge. We search outside the tight restrictions of the God-Emperor or the Omnissiah, or the corruption of the Dark Gods."


"What do you have to say of my offer?"


"The research we're doing in regards to the formation of compounds in gas giants. If you expect us to give over the majority of our staff to you, we want something extra."


"What more could you want?" you ask.


"In exchange for funding, we could turn our focus to more practical sciences and research that could help the ship, whilst working on the Roar of the Vortex."


"How much?" you ask.


"Research is actually very expensive. You need test subjects, research..."


"How much?" 


"Realistically, twenty million thrones."


"That's ridiculous!" you say.


"That's the only offer I'm willing to make."

You agree

You hire the scientists, and soon find that it has benefits. Although much of the scientist's work is stuff far beyond your head, such as the physics behind the atom or the combustion of stars, much of it helps you. Through their work, they research and build massive solar panels on the ship which lowers fuel costs, increases the nutrition levels of nutrient paste to cut down food costs and do endlessly more. In the end, their innovations actually end up saving you twenty five million Thrones, giving you a hefty five million in profit from hiring them. Not bad for a day's work, if you do say so yourself.