Crux Lapis Chapter 3

Under an inverted sky there was a Forge-Fane, as tall over a hundred stories high and just as long and wide, all hard angles and sheer walls. It lacked most of the gothic ornamentation common to imperial structures, no Aquilla, no gargoyles and no statues of the Primarchs, to merely human eyes it was bare and unadorned. The building was surrounded by a vast courtyard within which numerous red-robed adepts hurried to and fro, bustling about on various errands and mysterious duties. There were envoys and savants, lowly Lexmechanics and lordly Fabricators, Servitors by the hundred and aloof Magi all going about their business.

Observing this all were platoons of Skitarii, standing about with Hellguns, electro-staves and plasma fusiliers held on a hair trigger. They stopped and scanned adepts according to a complex formula, checking identifications over and over regardless of rank or privilege. Overseeing all this were a pair of mechanical walkers, soaring over everybody else and bearing the mightiest of weapons. When it came to security, the Mechanicus took no chances. It was into this arena that a trio of grav skimmers emerged, passing under Auspex arches and the watchful eyes of multi-laser turrets. They hummed into the courtyard and settled down in a seemingly random area, but one that had been kept clear for them. The vehicles settled down slowly and before they had touched the ground Space Marines were springing out of them, circling the machines in a defensive knot with bolters raised. The swirling crowds completely ignored them, passing by without a comment about the weapons being pointed at them.

Third Company swiftly disembarked a blot of blue in a sea of red, with a single dot of black showing the presence of the Company Chaplain. Amid all this Captain Toran and his squad were looking about, trying to spot someone of authority to talk to. Toran had assumed a guard would be sent to meet them but it seemed to be business as normal here. Magos Castabore skimmed past, then paused and said, "Bring your envoys, the rest can stay here."

Toran blinked and then sighed at the Tech-Priest's brusqueness and said, "Chaplain Wrethan, keep the squads here and guard the vehicles. Command Squad and Hevostan, with me."

As Third Company settled in the small party set off, marching in Castabore's wake as they moved through the crowd. Toran watched the swirling movements and was unsettled by the number of Servitors he saw and the knowledge that any of them could be turned against them in a heartbeat. It was disquieting, for Toran had never realised how much he took Servitors for granted. They were everywhere in the Imperium, trusted with everything and utterly ignored by most. The idea that enemies could be all around them made Toran's trigger finger itch and he felt as if thousands of eyes were upon him.

He was distracted by Bylan, who was carrying the Company Standard and excitedly pointing as he exclaimed, "+Look, look at that, Titans!+"

Persion laughed derisively and said, "Those aren't Titans, those are merely Knight Engines. House Pardus if I am not mistaken."

Bylan sounded crestfallen and said, "+Oh… what's the difference?+"

Furion answered, "On the day you see a Titan you will understand all too well."

Novak wasn't listening, instead craning his head back at the inverted sky and saying, "This is too weird, I can see buildings on the roof. There are people walking about upside down over our heads."

"Ignore it," Furion admonished him, "Concentrate on your duties."

Jediah growled, "I don't like this, we are surrounded by enemies on all sides."

Toran eyed a passing servitor warily and agreed saying, "Keep your guards up, the situation is most volatile."

Soon the party had approached the Forge Fane and here at last they were stopped, a squad of red-robed Skitarii blocking their path with a Tech-Priest at their head. Castabore floated up to them and began making a most curious noise, a hissing tone filled with pops, squeaks and pings. The Tech-Priest responded in kind and together they sounded like a boiling kettle, it made Toran want to stick a finger in his ear and wiggle it as if something was caught there. After a few seconds, Castabore turned about and said, "Our entry has been authorised, but the guards are suspicious. They said to tell you that they will be watching our every move… especially Tech-unit Hevostan."

Toran blinked and did not know what to say but Castabore was already leading them on. The Skitarii followed them and as they did so Toran heard the Skitarii Magos say in a flesh-voice, "Touch nothing and tell your pet to keep his grubby hands to himself."

As the party entered the Forge-Fane Persion remarked, "What the Feth was that?"

Castabore answered, "Techmarines are not well regarded by the worthies of Mars, you have a reputation for innovation and invention."

Novak asked, "And that's bad?"

Hevostan replied, "On Mars, very bad. It's considered barely one step down from outright Tech-Heresy."

The party went quiet as they mused upon this, passing deeper into the Forge-Fane, walking past many alcoves that bore strange devices. These meant absolutely nothing to Toran, resembling lumps of metal and gears, yet Hevostan was peering about with intense interest, occasionally sighing in awe as they passed by. He sounded almost sad that they couldn't stop to admire the sights so Toran could only assume that they were artefacts of great significance and potency. Eventually they came up to a pair of bare metal doors, which parted before them as they approached. They strode in to find a bare metal chamber, bereft of decoration or ornamentation. It was a perfect square, each line mathematically perfect and uniform in length, but otherwise unremarkable.

Within the chamber were five Adepts in red robes, each one strangely lumpy under the material, hinting at the Augmetics beneath. They all had snake-like mechandrites waving in the air in hypnotising patterns, but were otherwise indistinguishable. They were talking in their strange hissing, popping language, but stopped when the party entered. Castabore bobbed low before them and the central figure turned a hooded head to regard her. A rich flesh voice came out from under his hood, it was synthetic but despite that it resembled the voice of a kindly old professor, with just a hint of indulgence for a mischievous pupil. The figure said, "Ah, Magos Castabore we are just discussing your fascinating hypothesis regarding the Scrapcode infection being the work of an individual."

Toran hadn't seen the Magos transmitting any data, but that didn't mean much, she must have other ways to communicate with the rest of her order. Meanwhile another figure spat in a dull, mechanical monotone, "Angry Statement: I told you all this was a prelude to an attack."

The first said, "I seem to recall you saying it was weakening our defences against external attack, not from within."

Toran coughed loudly to attract attention and everybody turned to look at him, Castabore said, "Ah yes, let me make introductions. This is the Forge-Synod of Crux Lapis: Archmagos Fuchsia and his second Fabricator-Locum Xenix. These are Master of Defences Magos-Dominus Sintran, Chief Biologis Genator Unix and Master of Data-Processing, Logis Ms-Dos."

Toran bowed to them, trying to sort out which one was which. The one he thought was Sintran barked in a dull monotone, "Resentful statement: We don't need their help."

This was countered by a naturally fleshy voice from the one called Unix, "Do not get superior Sintran, your Tahgmata have utterly failed to stop the malfunctions."

The one called Xenix was glaring at Castabore and Toran had the distinct impression that they did not like each other as he said, "Your Wardogs cannot help us, what do they know of the Sacred Mysteries?"

Castabore answered frankly, "The answer does not lie in conventional thinking, we need an outside opinion."

There was a growl from the one called Logis Ms-Dos and a synthetic voice followed, "And what exactly are these thugs supposed to do, are they going to shoot the Scrapcode with projectile weapons?"

Toran had the distinct impression his intelligence had just been insulted, but Hevostan stepped up and held out a Data-slate saying, "Perhaps this will help, it's a transcript of the Scrapcode taken less than an hour ago."

A mechandrite shot out from Ms-Dos and he snatched up the slate saying, "This is current? Humm… yes, I see . A most intuitive program, almost organic in its ability to mutate and reconfigure itself."

Archmagos Fuchsia said, "It seems we underestimated you, I believe the correct organic response now is to apologise for our rudeness. Please understand we are not used to dealing with non-mechanicus personnel, let alone ones so… fleshy."

Toran nodded in acceptance and said, "I understand, now tell me how this has affected your Forge?"

Genator Unix answered, "It has been totally unacceptable, my Quota orders fail to reach the production lines, servitor manufacturing has fallen by seventeen percent!"

Logis Ms-Dos declared, "It haunts my Info-vaults and interferes with the purity of numbers. Statistics are altered faster than we can process and equations return false results, corrupting all our data."

Magos-Dominus Sintran said in monotone: "Informative statement: Defensive plans are being erased, whole units are taken offline and command codes are rewritten before our eyes."

Toran sighed and said, "But how has it affected you physically, what's it done to your world?"

Everybody fell silent for a moment and then Xenix said, "We do not comprehend the logic of this inquiry."

Castabore bobbed up and sounded smug at her rival's stupefaction as she said, "He is proposing that instead of looking at this as a software problem, we instead examine the hardware affected."

There was a long moment of silence then Archmagos Fuchsia chuckled warmly and said, "Out of the mouth of babes, very well, lets us indulge this request." Without anybody moving a Hololithic image of Crux Lapis sprang into life over their heads, then as they watched a series of red dots began to cover its interior. Each dot represented a malfunction and they spread over the image like a bad rash, emerging seemingly at random. Yet Toran's arm shot out and he said, "There, do you see that?"

Sintran droned, "Confused Statement: I see nothing."

"Exactly," said Toran, "Play it again and this time, don't look at what is there, look for what is not there."

Xenix snapped, "Do what?"

Hevostan clarified, "Attempt to infer the absence of deleted files by discrepancies in the remaining file headings."

The image played out again and this time the gap was obvious. Fuchsia gasped and said, "Look, a grid-sector has been entirely avoided by the malfunctions. How did we miss this?"

Toran remarked, "Because you were looking at it as a Mathematical problem, not a strategy of war. Somebody has gone to extraordinary lengths to keep you out of that sector, creating multiple distractions to draw your eyes away."

Xenix asked, "What is in that sector?"

Logis Ms-Dos answered, "Archives say it was a Servitor manufactory, but it was shut down and scheduled for demolition… strange the order was issued but never enacted. The command seems to have been erroneously stored but not sent."

Toran snorted, "That was no error, somebody is running rings around your defences."

Sintran droned, "Bold statement: My Skitarii will clear that sector at once and root out whoever did this."

Archmagos Fuchsia however held up a metal hand and said, "Whoever did this has displayed an alarming ability to subvert our Data-protocols and override Machine Spirits, we cannot trust the veracity of the reports from any unit who enters that sector."

Genator Unix asked, "Then what do we do?"

Fuchsia said, "Flesh seems to be immune, so we must ask our guests to investigate for us."

Sintran droned, "Angry Retort: We can do this without them."

Fuchsia though admonished him saying, "No, your forces will isolate the sector but we must call upon our allies for this task. They are the work of the Omnissiah's hand after all and we would be fools not to respect that. "

Toran stepped forward and addressed the Synod saying, "You have my word the Storm Heralds will dig out the root of this evil. My Chapter Master has stressed to me the importance of our friendship with the Mechanicus, you are our allies and we stand with you in your hour of need. In the Emperor's name, I swear we shall return your Forge to its proper glory."