V3 Chapter 2: You Are Saying These Men of Iron Have Developed Chaos Resistance?
Carpé household guards had spread across the outer perimeter, heavy servo-gun carriages and automated turrets covering every approach corridor. Skitarii stood closer to the sanctuary itself, their red robes moving in the wind, sensor arrays behind their faceplates fixed on anyone who drew near.
Venus Carpé was already there waiting for him.
She watched Duvette come down the landing ramp and raised an eyebrow.
"I thought sorting out the Warmaster's situation would take considerably longer."
Duvette straightened his black greatcoat and shrugged.
"That's what capability looks like."
Venus pressed her lips together, gave him a look that communicated several things at once, and said nothing further.
She turned and walked toward the sanctuary entrance. Duvette followed. The guards behind him were held at the outer layer by a joint screen of Carpé household troops and Skitarii, only a handful permitted to continue inside.
The interior of the sanctuary had changed completely.
Duvette had been gone less than a month. It looked as though the Adeptus Mechanicus had disassembled the place and rebuilt it from the floor up. Equipment he had no names for occupied every corridor and hall: cogitator arrays, suspended servo-arms, sealed scanning chambers, and containment barriers packed into every available space.
The tens of thousands of Men of Iron he remembered were gone.
Venus noticed where his eyes went and offered the explanation unprompted.
"The overwhelming majority have been transferred to stasis-field isolation bays aboard the Ark Mechanicus."
"Only a small number of sample units remain in the sanctuary for disassembly, scanning, and repeated testing."
Duvette gave a nod.
Very Cawl.
Tens of thousands of Men of Iron sitting on the surface in an unsecured hall would give any Inquisitor nightmares regardless of how still they stood. Packing them into the Ark's stasis bays, backed by Skitarii and layered containment protocols, would at least let everyone sleep marginally better.
He passed a row of servo-skulls chanting the sacred binary catechisms as he walked.
Mechanicus priests moved around several sample Men of Iron units, busy with their work. Large servo-arms had removed outer armour panels. Micro-probes extended into circuit seams. Data streams refreshed continuously across hovering projections.
Duvette spotted Cawl quickly.
The Archmagos stood at the far end of the hall, leaning on the Axe of Omnissiah, staring at a complete Men of Iron chassis in front of him.
The unit was in offline suspension. Its limbs were locked into heavy restraint frames. Containment barriers and thermal-melta incineration devices surrounded it on all sides. If the experiment went wrong, the frame would be reduced to slag before anyone had time to react.
What Duvette had not expected was Sylandri.
The Shadowseer stood in the outer observation area, a Skitarii cordon and automated weapon array at her back. She saw Duvette come in and gave a small, graceful bow.
Duvette looked at her.
"You are here as well?"
Sylandri smiled.
"The threads of fate have formed a new knot in this place."
"I came to see who would untangle it."
Duvette did not take that thread. He walked to Cawl's side and looked at the suspended Men of Iron unit.
"What exactly have you found?"
"You sounded serious enough on the channel that I was half expecting them to be already marching on the Imperium again."
Cawl turned. Multiple mechaoptic lenses rotated toward Duvette simultaneously.
"I repeated a prior experiment."
"I introduced a fragment of contaminated, discarded data into the passive-tier sensory layer of an offline Men of Iron chassis."
Duvette's eyes narrowed.
"You did what?"
Cawl paid the reaction no attention.
"Offline chassis. Passive sensory tier only. Physical network isolation. Triple barrier containment. Four independent incineration protocols."
"Experimental risk was within manageable parameters."
Throne of Terra. He just fed corrupted data directly into one of them. Very Cawl.
Cawl continued. "My original intention was to determine whether residual Chaos contamination remained in these units, or to what degree logic-shift occurred on secondary contact with corrupted data."
"The result exceeded my projections."
He raised a mechadendrite. A hololithic projection expanded in the air above them.
Duvette looked at dense clusters of data curves. Red contamination markers were introduced into the Men of Iron's sensory layer again and again, and again and again they were isolated, compressed, and locked out.
Cawl said: "I began at the lowest contamination tier."
"Then escalated progressively."
"The contamination could not penetrate the core logic. Could not induce command-tree corruption. Could not rewrite the passive sensory layer."
"Not a single trace of contamination took hold."
Duvette looked at the Men of Iron unit.
It remained suspended. Cold. Motionless.
"At any level?"
"Across the full range of experimental intensity I permitted, the result was consistent."
Cawl paused.
"Which creates a problem, because it cannot explain why these units were corrupted in the first place."
"Time alone, data rot, and maintenance failure are no longer a sufficient explanation."
He looked at Duvette again.
"This is why I believe the purification was the cause."
A brief silence settled over the hall.
Sylandri's voice came from the side.
"I believe the same."
Duvette turned and looked at her. He said nothing for a moment.
If this was genuinely a consequence of his ability, it meant that anything or anyone he had purified might now carry near-total resistance to Warp contamination and Chaos corruption.
The Men of Iron were one example.
But what about Markus and the twelve Shadow Wolves?
They had also been drawn out of the old darkness by his ability. If the conclusion held, those thirteen ancient Legion warriors might have become an entirely new kind of asset.
Duvette took a slow breath.
The weight of this was considerably heavier than he had been imagining thirty seconds ago.
Cawl did not wait for his thinking to finish.
The Archmagos turned and began walking toward the sanctuary exit, mechanical limbs striking the metal floor with a steady rhythm.
"This conclusion requires considerably more time to verify."
"The current window is too short and the Men of Iron STC cannot be fully analysed yet."
"However, I have achieved the first concrete result from the one and a half million weapon formulae."
Duvette's head came up immediately.
"A result?"
Cawl did not slow his pace.
Duvette fell in beside him without hesitation.
Not bad at all, Cawl, he thought, but wisely kept it to himself.
"What result?"
"A weapon."
"What tier?"
"The tier at which many Forge Worlds would petition me for manufacturing authorisation."
Duvette's mood improved considerably.
Cawl led him to a newly constructed building adjacent to the sanctuary.
Inside, it looked like a field weapons testing facility. The walls were lined with thermal insulation and runic wards. Several heavy cogitators connected to a central display plinth.
On the plinth sat a weapon with an unusual profile.
It was heavier and thicker than a standard lasgun, the frame carrying the lines of ancient Legion-era manufacture. The muzzle bore a complex focusing assembly. Test cabling that had not yet been removed ran alongside the power interface.
Cawl walked to the plinth.
"This weapon is designated the Volkite."
"An ancient deflagration weapon."
"The thermal energy beam it fires penetrates the target on impact and then, through thermodynamic principles, induces subsonic combustion within the target structure, which spreads and continues to ignite surrounding material. Its penetrating power is sufficient to defeat all common armour materials."
Duvette stepped closer.
"Sounds like exactly the right thing for burning heretics."
"These weapons were relatively common ten thousand years ago."
Cawl's voice carried its characteristic mechanical evenness.
"Over time, their manufacturing complexity and production difficulty led to them being gradually replaced by bolt weapons, which were considerably easier to produce and maintain."
"The modern Imperium still retains a small number of Volkite weapons, but manufacturing capability is severely limited."
He raised a mechadendrite. A set of rotating schematics materialised above the plinth.
"Within the one and a half million formulae, I have analysed out a new manufacturing process."
"Along with a simplified Volkite focusing core."
"This substantially reduces manufacturing complexity and calibration requirements."
Duvette listened carefully.
Cawl continued. "It makes the reintroduction of the Volkite to active service a realistic possibility."
"Of course, materials, production lines, focusing core service life, and qualified maintenance personnel will all impose limits on early-pattern output."
"In summary, I have designated this the Belisarian Pattern I Deflagration Rifle."
Duvette looked at the weapon on the plinth.
"Can mortal soldiers use it?"
Cawl was noncommittal.
"Of course."
"It imposes no requirement on the user."
"However, the mortal-use variant requires more stringent power-supply limits and heat dissipation structures."
"Which means when early production volumes are low, allocation will inevitably prioritise Astartes first."
Duvette allowed himself a smile.
Venus, standing to the side, saw the expression and took half a step back.
She knew that look very well by now.
Duvette clasped his hands together and looked at Cawl.
"Archmagos."
"We have a great deal of collaboration ahead of us."
"And what I am going to do next matters to you as much as it does to me."
Cawl looked down at him.
The smile on Duvette's face was entirely cordial.
"So, would it be possible to allocate a small early supply to us as a priority?"
Cawl was silent for several seconds.
His multiple mechaoptic lenses rotated in sequence, moving from Duvette to the weapon on the plinth, then to the weapon mounting interfaces fitted to his own mechadendrites.
Venus folded her arms and said nothing, already reading the outcome.
Cawl finally extended a mechadendrite, lifted the prototype weapon from the plinth with its safety engaged, and held it out to Duvette.
"Agreed."
"I will allocate a portion to you as a priority."
Duvette took the Volkite prototype. It was heavier than he had expected. But as he held it, his mind was already placing it in the hands of the 112th Special Operations Legion.
Cawl added: "Quantities are limited."
"Maintenance rights remain with me."
"Full test data must be returned."
Duvette's smile held.
"Of course."
"That is what collaboration is for."
Cawl looked at him.
"Your tone indicates you are preparing to make additional requests."
Duvette cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on the Volkite prototype.
"Not at all."
"I simply feel that the future of our collaboration grows brighter with every passing day."
Once Duvette had confirmed the sanctuary would produce no further surprises in the immediate term, he stopped dwelling on Cawl's new deflagration weapon.
His attention returned to Macragge.
The notification of his intended visit had been sent a long time ago through the Astropathic choir aboard Villent's fleet. Given the Warp interference in transit, it was already fortunate that the message had arrived in Ultramar in any legible form.
The response from Macragge was accordingly brief.
It had been relayed through Villent's fleet's Astropathic station to the Resolute, and from there passed to Duvette. The content ran to only a few lines.
Calgar indicated that Duvette was welcome to visit Macragge again, that his request was approved, and that the imminent arrival of Archmagos Belisarius Cawl was formally welcomed.
Duvette read it and felt nothing unexpected.
The reply was entirely in keeping with Calgar's manner. Concise, direct, carrying the measured courtesy of the Ultramarines without a single unnecessary question.
They had met before, after all.
More precisely, they had fought side by side during the First War for Macragge. Cold Steel Ridge, the subterranean fortress network beneath Macragge City, the Hive Tyrant, and the investiture ceremony on Triumph Square: all of it was still in Duvette's memory.
Calgar had placed the Macragge Honour medal in his hands himself.
The Chapter Master had also said something to him.
The stars of Ultramar will always regard you as a brother.
So this return to Macragge would not be unusual in itself.
Cawl completed his pre-departure arrangements quickly.
A contingent of Mechanicus priests and Skitarii were left behind to continue guarding the sanctuary and the subsurface research area. The Men of Iron transferred to the Ark Mechanicus's stasis-field isolation bays would remain under the supervision of Cawl's directly attached personnel.
Venus Carpé also offered to stay.
"The value here is too significant," she said. "If everyone goes with you and the Mechanicus is left as the sole guard force, I am not comfortable with that."
Duvette looked at her with theatrical surprise.
"You are not planning to keep it all for yourself?"
Venus narrowed her eyes and held his gaze for a long moment.
Duvette raised both hands immediately.
"A joke. I genuinely appreciate what you are doing."
Venus made a short sound and looked away, toward the Carpé household troops repositioning in the outer defence line.
"This site is tied to everything that comes after. I will stay and wait for you to return."
Duvette gave a nod.
With Venus willing to hold the position, he had no objection. But as a precaution, he left Colonel Dylan Perry's 112th First Infantry Regiment behind as well. The regiment would operate alongside the Carpé household forces and the Mechanicus, responsible for the outer perimeter, supply nodes, and surface lines of communication.
Dylan received the orders without question. He came to attention, saluted, and went to organise his troops.
Duvette also put a recommendation to Admiral Villent: leave a portion of the naval assets in orbit above Menazoid Epsilon.
This planet had become too important to leave unguarded.
The Men of Iron STC, the Mechanicus research facility, the Carpé dynasty supply node, and the Volkite manufacturing process Cawl had just extracted were all concentrated here. Any Chaos fleet, any greenskin raiding force, or any Imperial faction bold enough to try their luck could make a move against something this valuable.
Villent agreed to the arrangement without delay.
Two light cruisers, a dozen escort vessels, and a small complement of supply ships broke from the main formation and transitioned into a defensive orbital posture above Menazoid Epsilon. They would work alongside the surface defences and maintain the lockdown of the area.
Duvette watched the fleet reorganise and felt marginally more settled. He had also sent a quiet request to Macaroth on the Balhaut end to keep an eye on the sector, which added another layer he was reasonably confident in.
He was not going to bring his full strength to Macragge either.
That scale would be entirely wrong.
If the complete fleet arrived near Macragge, the Ultramarines would raise their guard immediately regardless of how much they trusted him. They ran by the book, but they would never permit a combined force comprising an expedition legion's fleet, Mechanicus assets, and a Rogue Trader supply convoy to approach the core orbital approaches of their home world without considerable scrutiny.
That would only add difficulty to the conversation with Calgar before it had even begun.
The remaining personnel would travel with Duvette to Macragge.
Both Lord Inquisitors would accompany the formation. The Salamanders would continue to travel with the fleet. A portion of the Carpé dynasty supply vessels would handle provisions for the journey. All of it scaled to the minimum necessary, so as not to arrive at Ultramar with a profile that invited tension.
As for Yvraine and Sylandri—they would also travel with the fleet.
Duvette had not included them in the formal notification to Macragge.
That particular card was too complicated to play in advance.
He would see Calgar first. Then decide how to raise it.
When the fleet was ready, the bridge of the Resolute lit up the heading toward Ultramar.
Duvette stood before the tactical star chart and looked at the familiar name of that star cluster.
Ultramar. Macragge.
He had crawled out of a field of dead on that world once. He had received the Ultramarines' acknowledgement there.
Now he was going back with a far more dangerous request in hand.
Duvette was quiet for a moment, then said it under his breath.
"I hope Calgar still remembers that I am something close to a brother."
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