The echoes of combat still lingered in the vaulted chamber. The scent of ozone and burning circuitry choked the air. All mixed with the pungent odour of burnt metal, stone and flesh. The walls, once pristine and perfectly calibrated, now bore scorch marks and melted metal, the aftermath of the fierce battle.
Archmagos Logic Errant Viel Nox stood in the heart of the ruined sanctum, his gaze fixed on the wreckage before him. The Sacred Vault, once a bastion of untold divine knowledge, had been desecrated. The battle had been violent, a furious clash between the forces of the Imperium and Chaos.
++System Diagnostics: All Servitors Unresponsive++
++Damage: 73%++
++Status: Critical++
++Shields: 37%, Stable++
His mechadendrites twitched, pulling a delicate servitor body from the wreckage. Its chassis was crushed, but in its final act it had served the Omnissiah. Its status rune blinked once, weakly, before flickering out completely.
++Spirit: Dormant. Task: Processing.++
It would be memorialised and restored if possible, in recognition of its service in protecting an STC.
The bulk of the STCs had been destroyed in the chaos. His heart had ached with each lost piece, ancient blueprints, lost knowledge, blessing from the Omnissiah now reduced to ashes. But not all was lost. The Omnissiah had granted him mercy in the form of two fragments.
Two.
A guttural hiss escaped his vox-grille as his fingers twitched in quiet calculation.
He did not regret the adherence to the sacred rites. To have moved them unbound by sanctification would have been profanation. What he regretted was miscalculating the magnitude of the warp-tainted which had prevailed against the sacred vault's defensive liturgies.
Nor would he entrust the sacred crystalised knowledge to hands unbound by his authority. Too many within the Imperium saw STCs as leverage rather than revelation. Relics of such magnitude demanded sanctified chain-of-custody, not battlefield expedience.
He had sent several of his most trusted adepts back to the surface; their sanctified memories should have been more than up to the task of navigating the labyrinth.
There should have been thousands of Adepts pouring in, eager to work in the first day, with more pouring in as word spread. His holy matrices had predicted even his fellow Archmogos to arrive within 29 hours. With their added support and knowledge, they could have had the sacred crystalised knowledge of the Omnissiah safely moved.
When no reinforcements arrived, he had sent the holy mastiff, a work of beauty created by the Machine God. He could see the beast's machine spirit, pure and radiant, so he knew it would not lead a follower of the Machine God astray.
And yet they still hadn't arrived.
He had personally checked the doors and could see them open, but there was no sign of his adepts. He could not leave himself, Inquisitorial oversight did not equate to Mechanicus custodianship. Not without concessions at least.
To have broken sanctity then would have been a deviation. And deviation had already burned worlds.
But all reading from the vault's door had been nominal. A warning had arrived, but the vault had purged the contaminants, dealing with it. Viel found it inconceivable that such a holy nexus of the Machine Gods power could not overcome a single warp-corrupted human.
While the loss hurt his soul, the Machine God had granted mercy, showing Viel that he was still on the right path. Two almost complete STCs, while not as high as the original bounty promised, were more than enough.
Further than his wildest dreams in fact.
His optics flared brighter as he scanned the recovered fragments, the data flooding into his mind.
The chant was old, ancient even. It was a ritual not of worship, but of bonding, of tuning his mind to the deepest recesses of the machine spirit that flowed through every shard of data, every piece of ancient technology. The words had been passed down through the generations of the Mechanicus, a sacred litany to establish communion with the very soul of the machine.
As the words left his lips, his mind reached out to the Noosphere, that vast networked sea of data, an ocean of knowledge stretching through the fabric of the galaxy. But his connection flickered weakly, like a dying signal fighting through interference.
++Connection to Noosphere: Signal Lost. Range Out of Reach.++
He furrowed his brow, the frustration building, as his mechadendrites extended, probing the air, searching for the faintest trace of a connection. His optics flared as he tried again, reaching into the depths of the machine soul.
But the connection was still blocked.
No matter, he would be enough; he had the Omnissiah with him.
One was almost intact, a relic of pure technological perfection, its matrix unmarred by the destructive forces of the battle. The other, barely more than a shattered remnant, its core systems half-functional, flickering erratically. It would require delicate restoration, but it was still valuable.
The weight of their potential still felt ethereal. It was the opportunity he had been patiently waiting for. This would set him back on his path. With these, his position as Fabricator Locum, the role that should have been rightfully his, was assured.
Even with the losses. Archmagos Viel could already explain that away. The only individual who might hamper him was the Inquisitor from the Ordo Machinum. But they had already reached an accord; it was only logical.
The Omnissiah agreed with him.
The two fragments proved that.
Preservation was not random. It was a selection. The Machine God saved what he wished to share with them.
Still, his heart was heavy at what was lost. The Hereteks, not knowing what was at stake, their filthy emotional flesh and blood had ruined it all. All that holy knowledge lost in an instant.
His mandrakes circled and clutched at air in anger, the power of it overriding his logic rituals, before they quashed the weakness of the flesh once more.
The Astartes and Inquisitors had gathered nearby, talking in quiet voices, through their vox, but his auspex was more than up to the task and able to pick their voice up with ease.
'The secret must be kept. We will send them to the Emperor.' The lead Grey Knight stated. Unfortunately, the Astarte armour's machine spirit was silent to his queries to find out more about them.
'No.' The Female Inquisitor stated. Her voice was quiet but firm. 'They will be coming with me. They seemed competent and oddly resistant to the forces of chaos. Any that saw you will soon be aboard my vessel and will undergo extensive training.'
'We too noticed this.'
'As you say Justicar.'
'What about the young man—' Inquisitor Elion said. His voice grated on Viel's senses. There was a binaric cant under it that made it painful to listen to, and a lesser adept would be hard pressed to understand it.
'No. He too, will be joining me.'
'Really? His affinity with machine spirits wou—'
'Maybe, but I will be taking him nonetheless.'
While Viel had left the weakness of the flesh many centuries ago and had long forgotten the idiosyncrasies of the flesh, his adaptive algorithms could read the stubbornness in Inquisitor Elion's stance.
'Maybe a compromise can be reached.' One of the females said. Without access to the sacred flow of data in the noosphere, he could not look her up, only knowing her as Rhassia from when she introduced herself.
'That would be acceptable. What did—'
Viel felt some amusement as he was once more interrupted. This time by the Grey Knight. 'That can be discussed later. The entire vault needs to be sanctified.'
'Agreed, and we do not have long. The ruins' defences will soon be activated once more.'
'And you know this how?' Inquisitor Elion asked.
'Aleric.' Brigitta said simply.
The ganger.
An anomaly.
At first, he had been a curiosity, but with each encounter… that interest grew. Viel first thought he might be a heretek. But with his help in vanquishing the enemy, that was unlikely. He had done a duty for the Omnissiah this day.
But still a curiosity.
Pushing that inconsequential distraction away, he turned back to the STC blueprints. His mechadendrites moved with cold precision, gingerly lifting the intact fragment. His mind buzzed with the possibilities, the dreams of power it would give him on the great Forge world Stratix once he returned.
Yet, this was a hollow victory. Many of his own had perished in the fight. Their blood and metal had spilt for these fragments. A worthy sacrifice in for filling the Cult Mechanicus' most holy task. Their names would be remembered. It would also create a chance to retake his position after ten years of waiting. If the STC fragments weren't enough that opportunity would have been. He was ordained.
That was the price of these two fragments, lives, aspirations, all spent on a dream that had been slipping further from his grasp.
Steep he decided, but acceptable. They were free, with the Omnissiah now. There was no greater reward.
Viel Nox's mind was already moving far beyond this chamber, already tracing the path to Forge Stratix. The recovered fragments would be the key to his return. But first, there would be work to do, systems to manipulate, and alliances to test.
He would go alone at first, just his guards, to re-secure his position, to claim what had been stolen.
But once it was done, he would return. Not for the fragments, they would never leave his side, but for the adepts and magi. The true followers. Those who had been loyal to him before and those who would rise with him.
His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of an unexpected figure.
The Ganger.
His posture was a mixture of wariness, confidence and pain. His armour was masterfully crafted of a design Viel distastefully recognised from the nobles of the spire, Xeno origin. Heretical. His left arm gone in the battle, even in the chaos, Viel's systems were more than up to the task of keeping track of the flow of battle, so he had seen him struck.
His helmet was removed, revealing the weak flesh underneath the masterful armour. But his eyes, almost unnaturally bright, glimmered with something that made the Archmagos pause. Something… unnerving, then the moment was gone.
Viel's optics shifted, focusing on the young ganger with a rare intensity. He did not view him with the same disdain he reserved for most of the Hive's lesser beings. No, instead, he studied him closely, intrigued.
Aleric had shown a peculiar affinity for technology during the dive. The machine's spirits friendly to him. With what he had seen now, Viel had little doubt the Omnissiah had used him as a conduit. The turrets had ignored him, an oddity in and of itself. Doors had opened at his mere presence, and even the machine spirits that had been hostile to the rest of the party had, at times, deferred to him. He wasn't one of the sacred children of the Omnissiah, yet he had exhibited an unusual depth of understanding and connection to the machine spirits, something that caught Viel's attention.
Clearly, the Machine God was working through him to help his ascent. Viel was clearly on the most sacred path, ordained by the Machine God himself, manipulating the people he would need into his path.
The ganger stopped in front of him, nodding to him in respect. Before pulling an item from his pocket.
"Archmagos," he said, his voice firm and composed, but respectful. "I discovered this, saved by my body during the final clash. I would not dishonour the Omnissiah by selling such a thing. I merely ask for your favour. It led me here. If you deem it worthy, I offer it to you, in exchange for something greater."
He showed off what was in his hand. Inside was another STC fragment, a fragment, but larger than one of the two Nox had recovered. It glinted in the light, its lines fractured and cracked, but clear and solid, the faint pulse of the machine spirit hummed gently within, as though it was still alive.
Aleric's voice dropped slightly, but there was an intensity to it.
"I ask only one thing in return." he continued. "Sponsorship. Training. A fast track up the ranks when appropriate. The Omnissiah guided me here, Archmagos, and there must have been a reason. To learn the ways of the machine, to grow under your tutelage."
Viel Nox considered the ganger carefully, his optics narrowed slightly as he processed the words. The request was bold, too bold for a mere ganger, too bold for someone so far beneath his station. But there was something in the way Aleric presented himself, something in his tone that suggested the man was not so much asking for permission as he was demanding a chance.
His optics flashed as they zoomed in on the STC fragment, assessing it, processing. While Viel had discovered the vault, but the fragment had chosen to endure in his custody. That could not be coincidence. Sponsorship was not unheard of, although as a reward it was.
Still…
Was it worth fighting the Inquisitors who were clearly interested in him as well? He would gladly take him from Inquisitor Elion Mardus paws.
Like he had the understanding to oversee the Mechanicus. Viel scoffed at the thought.
The other inquisitor however.
She was different.
He had seen her file. She could not be dismissed, especially with the Knights standing behind her.
He almost turned the ganger away, not wanting the conflict when dozens then hundreds, and finally1645 adepts entered his noosphere network, approaching from the entrance. The adepts he had called for, and at their front were the Archmagos, fellow leaders of the Adeptus Mechanicus in the Stratix System—dozens of combat servitors and Skitarii around them.
It took only a moment to connect and parse their systems. His mind almost stuttered when he found out they had been stuck outside with no way to enter. They had been able to leave but not return, the vault in some form of lockdown.
Regardless of the implications, with them now here, it was an easy decision. He wouldn't allow one of the others to receive the STC fragment. It could interfere with his plans.
As he went to accept it. Viel felt a faint pulse, the whisper of a machine spirit resonating with him, the same spark he had once felt when he first delved into the deeper mysteries of the Omnissiah's creations.
Aleric had touched something far greater than he understood.
Viel Nox's fingers twitched, his mind racing, letting the blessed silence linger. The Omnissiah had revealed an instrument. He could shape him, use his affinity to machine spirits. It would be dangerous, but if his strange affinity held true… he would be able to do great things. The question was… could he refine him without corruption? Could he bend this self-assured, ambitious ganger to his will without risking him becoming a threat in the future?
After a moment of thought, he decided he could. It would take a long time before he was ever a threat, and he could keep certain chants and rites back, hobbling him if need be. Properly shaped, he would become proof of divine alignment.
He could feel the eyes of the Inquisitors on him. But the balance of power was no longer so one-sided.
Viel's voice, when it came, was as cold and unyielding as the machines he was mostly made of.
"You wish to serve the Omnissiah?" The Archmagos's tone was low, an unsettling calm, pulling deep into his logic rituals. "Very well. You have my support. You will be fast-tracked, yes. But know this, the price for such power is steep. There are no easy ascensions in the Mechanicus. You will face trials that will test every fibre of your being. Fail me, and there will be no forgiveness. Fail the Omnissiah, and there will be no sanctuary for you."
Aleric nodded, his expression hardening with resolve.
"I will not fail."
Viel Nox's gaze lingered on him a moment longer before he turned away. His mind was already moving, calculating what the next steps would be, what dangers they might face. But there was something about the young ganger that felt… different. The machine spirit seemed to hum in resonance with him, almost approving.
"Then prepare yourself, Aleric," he said quietly, eyes already turning to the fragment in his hands. "For the road ahead will be long, and it will be treacherous. But we will walk it together, and in time, you will understand what you have bargained for and the true light of the Omnissiah."
---
Brigitta Al'Anoud, Inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus, felt a deep-seated tiredness. One that went far past that of the body and into the depths of her soul.
She'd pulled hard from the warp this day, maybe the deepest she had ever done, but she had come out unscathed, no… stronger for it. She felt the glow of satisfaction of another heretic removed, but also a sadness of a citizen of the Imperium so lost.
She locked him into her memories. A reminder of where the path she walked may take her if she strayed too far from the Emperor's most holy light.
Her kill team was decimated, with only a handful surviving. She was pleased Sergeant Hal had survived, the energy shield serving him well. Somehow, Tolven too had survived, although he'd burned one of his holy relics to do so, but it was good he had none the less.
It was the other deaths that were more of a problem. Rhassia had survived the energy shield protecting her like it had Hal. Iskra and Vortjren had been less lucky.
Iskra had died early on, not having the strength to survive the duel.
Vortjren… she sighed as she looked down at him, her pistol round having shattered his skull. Even dead his body was twitching, trying to mutate. He would need to be burned before they left. The wave of chaos at the end had been too much and overwhelmed his mind's defences, corrupting him.
She was going to miss them both. Not least as good help was hard to find.
While the kill team members' deaths were tragic, it was all too common, and she already had a crop to refill their ranks. By the end of the day, hundreds of the gangers would be taken into their ranks. She was tempted to take the gang as a whole, but knew that was a waste of resources and the gang itself.
The gang, while effective, with many of their members competent, that was only within the confines of the hive. Take them out of that, and many of them would need to start from scratch.
No better to leave them here and convert them to an asset.
That would kill two further birds with one stone. First, it might prove to be a good recruitment pool for the future, something she was always looking for, and it would also serve as an excellent addition to her intelligence network for the planet. That too was something she was always looking to expand.
Just as importantly, Zardelle, the pariah, was the daughter of the gang leaders. So keeping them safe and happy was a good way to keep all in line. Yes, she could use force and fear, but that would likely end up with a knife in her back, and since she was unable to feel the pariah in the warp, she would have little to no warning.
No, far better to attract with honey.
It was for this reason that she would leave several of their elite units with the gang, allowing them to maintain some strength.
She could always change her mind. She would be on the hive for years, clearing out the various cults that still plagued the planet. With Domikio dead, many of them would lose their support, but any cult, even a small one, could still lead to an incursion, so they would all need to be quashed in the name of the Emperor.
It was also always good to remind the nobles of the true powers that be, and not to get too comfortable in their positions.
She would recall a member of her team, Lucien Varrox, an apprentice and soon-to-be full Inquisitor. He had been on another mission, but she had received astropath communication that he had completed it. But that would still take years before he could arrive, then it would be back to Terra to drop off her attachment of Paladins.
Either way, her mission was complete.
Yes, today was a successful day. Domikio was dead, and she had found a pariah far above her wildest imagination. In fact, there was only one detraction from the day, and that was the ganger.
She turned her attention to him, watching as he left with a contingent of the Mechanicus. She had been tempted to fight for him. His soul was unique.
But decided to leave it in the end.
Firstly, it wasn't worth the capital she would need to spend to see it done. Not with an STC in play. Secondly, she liked to think she was a good judge of character, and she had seen him take the blow meant for Zardelle. Which, to be honest, she had been surprised he had survived. Zardelles' aura must have weakened it before it could consume him, as she had recognised the warp-fuelled attack.
With enough strength, it was able to chew through anything, breaking the bonds that held the material together, be that humans or armour.
So with Zardelle alongside her, she was likely to run into him again. Even if it was just to sate her curiosity. Who knew? Maybe she could recruit him in the future. Another tech adept with his affinity to machine spirits could be useful.
Not to mention whatever he had been doing in the separate room. She had seen him briefly on the cogitator, but couldn't say what he had been doing.
Although she had her suspicions. And if they proved true, he would be someone to keep an eye on.
There was also his soul.
Leaving him for now, she turned her attention to the small pile of loot they had collected. The most valuable items were several shields very similar to her own. One would go to Tolven as thanks for his service, another to Zardelle.
She was too valuable to lose.
The others she would keep for now.
---
Lanto heaved a huge sigh of relief as the Lady Inquisitor left.
He stayed staring at the door until he felt Selina lean onto his shoulder. Pushing his chair back slightly, he pulled her into his lap, giving her a quick peck on her lips as they sat in silence.
"Thoughts?" He asked as he started to stroke her hair.
"Proud, terrified, worried, excited, concerned, relieved and a whole lot of other feelings."
"Same." Lanto said softly.
Those same mix of feelings swirled around his gut.
He was incredibly proud of his daughter. She saved the hive and helped defeat a powerful heretic. Also, entering into an inquisitor's service was a great honour and removed one of the longest-running fears he'd had in the back of his mind.
It was the entire reason they had moved down to the underhive in the first place, and to have that no longer hovering over them was a huge relief. It was also freeing to know that they were still within the Emperor's light.
But he could only imagine the danger she would be in. The hive was hardly safe, but with the Court's strength, it was unlikely she would be killed any time soon. That wouldn't be the case when in the service of the Inquisitor. Or at least so he imagined. Truthfully, he knew very little about them, at least in concrete details. Just that they dealt with the worst problems, which meant danger.
Just look at a few weeks ago. The Lady Inquisitor had lost many of her kill team, recruiting hundreds of their elite teams for her use, gutting the gang.
But she wasn't without mercy.
He had always known Zardelle was meant for great things, and she couldn't have made him any prouder over the years.
A knock on the door pulled them from their thoughts, as Peggi, the girl who had become like a second daughter to them, slipped in, concerned.
"It's all okay." Lanto said, popping Selina back on her feet, as they both got up and gave Peggi a brief but fierce hug.
"So Zardelle is okay?"
"Yes." Selina said. They then went through everything the Inquisitor had told them, explaining it as best they could. There had been a lot. Both some of her plans for Zardelle and them, things to look out for and more.
He could see the tension slowly leave her body the more they explained.
"That's good. Although I will miss her. I know we have a few years, but even so…"
"We know." Lanto said, smiling and reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "Let's call the others in. We need to plan."
"Agreed." Selina said, her mask slipping back into place of the cold, collected leader, rather than the concerned mother.
Peggi poked her head out, calling the rest of the inner circle into the meeting room. Once they had taken a seat, they started.
"So," Selina said. "There have been a few changes, for now. Sitrep."
"Well, as you all know," Tulah said, "our elite teams have been gutted. I have already started to promote people to create them again, but we are looking at decades of work."
"True." Lanto said. "But we didn't lose them all, those like the Crimson Corsaire's who were on another mission when the Inquisitors arrived, have been left alone. Once things have calmed again, we can look to split up the few remaining into the other squads to help train them up."
"It is still a significant drop in our strength, which we will need to remember for the foreseeable future." Selina said. "What about the rest of our strength? How are we looking?"
"The best ever." Tulah said. "With the power vacuum left in Hive Pomaria and our position here, we have been able to expand rapidly. With the defeat of The Iron Choir last year, care of Aleric, we were already expanding rapidly."
"So expansion into the other underhives have been successful?"
"Completely. In a few more years, we should be the undisputed gang in our hive cluster, controlling most of the gangs in our three hives."
"What about nobles and guilds?" Selina asked. Shifting to look at Peggi. "Is that still proceeding as planned?"
"Yes." Peggi said, jerking slightly, apparently lost in thought. "When we effectively won our gang war last year, most nobles lost interest in throwing resources at the gangs to fight us and turned their attention to other avenues. For example, the space stations are still constantly disputed. Both politically and violently. So with the attention elsewhere, we have had free rein to expand. This has only increased since the Inquisitor has started her purges."
"Has there been any major changes since we last spoke?"
"No, most of the smaller guilds are under some level of our control, and we have been focusing our efforts on the transportation guilds."
"Good, then we can leave that for now. What about recruitment? Do we still have enough supplies?"
"More than." Dressi said. "With the regular shipments now coming in, we have been able to build up a stockpile, even with all the major recruitment we have been doing. So I can report green across the board. From guns and ammo, to corpse starch."
"And the quality? Still the same?" Lanto asked. Not that he doubted they would be considering their source, but it was always worth checking.
"Yeah, Aleric is really coming through. In fact, by the end of the decade, we should have all our soldiers in decent PDF quality flak and las rifles."
"Not to mention the vehicles." Rawna said. "We are getting a steady supply of them. I've had to ask Aleric to stop sending them; we were getting so many. I've almost finished reorganising so we can start to accept more in the next few weeks."
"And the trade routes? Both general and the ones Aleric is sending supplies through?"
"Reinforced and getting stronger by the day. It's helped that we are seen as the rightful recipients for many of the supplies. How he pulled that off, I don't know." Rawna said, shaking her head. A movement that was mirrored around the room.
They were all used to Aleric's ability to pull an idea or skill out of his arse.
"You know Aleric. He gets cogitators." Selina said fondly. "Now, Peggi, have we made any inroads in the other hive on the planet?"
"Yes. We have made contact with a minor noble which might bear some fruit. But they got spooked with the Inquisitor throwing her weight around. There have been almost a dozen noble houses exterminated since she started her purges. Some of them were even large families."
Lanto couldn't stop the smirk that flashed across his face. One of the effected house had the man who had forced him out.
"But House Valtorin still looks to be in the lead for the Governorship?"
"Yes. Unless they do something catastrophic."
"What happens if they do? Are we protected enough now? Or what if they attack us?" Orleth asked, leaning forward, a slight frown on her face.
"Peggi?" Selina said. Waving her hand for her to take the question.
"We have more or less unhitched ourselves from them. So even if they go down, it shouldn't affect us. If they turned their attention on us, like if they won, that is harder to say. They are weakened now, but if they had a few years building strength, we would be in for a fight."
"We could put up a fight, and we might even win, but I expect it to be pyrrhic at best." Lanto said.
"Especially now." Selina said. Pulling something from under her top. "This goes no further than us understood?" Here, Selina paused to look at each and every person in the room, making sure they took her seriously. At their nods, she continued, pulling out the circular golden medallion.
They had just received it from the Inquisitor earlier, and it was tied to their unique civilian IDs in some way, so no one else could use it. To others, it was just a shiny metal necklace. One that would get them executed on sight if it was ever discovered on them.
On the front was the Inquisitor's symbol as well as the unique code tied to the inquisitor that gave it out, in this case, Inquisitor Brigitta.
It marked them as agents of the Inquisition and came with incredible powers. It came with strings attached of course, and a whole new set of problems, but that went without saying. It also opened some, until now, closed doors and in this case, the strings were more than palatable. Mostly, the Court was loosely tied to Inquisitor Brigitta, providing her information and anything else she might need. Recruits Lanto expected.
But he was fine with that.
Zardelle was with her after all.
As the medallion glinted in the light, a small gasp echoed around the room. Everyone stared at it in fascination, even Peggi, who had already seen it.
"Okay I think that is everythi— wait, what about repairs and maintenance Orleth, now Aleric is gone? Anything come up in the last few weeks?"
"We are fine. Better than fine, even with Aleric gone. Remember, he only dealt with specialised or advanced items, so it won't affect the day-to-day of the gang. With the materials he is sending down, we are in the same place as the weapons. We've had to start storing it. Not to mention some of the guides he has been sending down to us."