Crux Lapis Chapter 10

In the heart of the Forge-Temple lay the Senior Magos' control centre and quarters. It took on the form of a dark brooding tower that soared over the factory like a teacher over miscreant children. Here the most respected of the local Tech-Priests could supervise the work below, controlling everything with the Master-systems, not to mention conducting private research projects and studies of the deep mysteries. On the outside, this bastion of knowledge and logic was decorated in signs of the Omnissiah to attract divine favour and as well as fearsome Gargoyles to fend off capricious glitches and wickedly evil Gremlins. The irony of the contradiction between logic and superstition being utterly lost on the hidebound Adeptus Mechanicus.

Access to the tower was limited to a single concourse, a long atrium that slowly descended into the Forge-Temple's interior. In most Imperial structures the gallery would be decorated with notable worthies and images of the Emperor, but not here. The atrium was stark and bare, the Tech-Priests having little care for aesthetics, but that did not mean it was empty. Lining the gallery on both sides were long lines of plasteel automatons, each one skeletally thin and inhumanly gaunt. These Men of Iron had been mass-produced here in the Forge-Temple, run off the production lines like the most basic of Imperial products. Each one was similar in design but with subtle differences too, many had sharp implements for hands, hooks, flails and spiked maces. Others had rotor canons and arc welders fitted to them, mixed with grenade launchers, Heavy Stubbers, multi-lasers and even flamers. Yet the one thing they all shared was a rictus grin on their metal faces and a cold, endlessly patient intellect shimmering in their glowing red eyes.

Right now that intellect was being directed like a laser pointer at a lonely shape trundling up the concourse. It was a humble Servitor, one that was carrying a crate of supplies in metal arms and travelling on a pair of caterpillar tracks that rumbled on the Ferrocrete floor. The difference between the two orders of being was stark, one cold, harsh and unforgiving the other warm, comforting and somehow very human. The Servitor however did not seem disturbed by the sight awaiting it, its lobotomised brain incapable of making the distinction between various masters. As the Servitor approached a pair of automatons stepped out, clawed hands motioning it to stop. The mindless slave paused and the machines approached, lifting the lid of the crate to inspect the contents. Their search was meticulous and thorough as only a machine could be, yet what they did not realise was they were looking in the wrong place. Instead of inspecting the crate they should have looked at the Servitor itself, for behind those vacant and dead eyes somebody else was looking out.

Far away in the distant security station the Storm Heralds were quietly watching the monitors, seeing and hearing everything that the Servitor was witnessing. The squad had quietly acquired a Servitor and watched as Hevostan had subverted it to their cause with his new skill. Now he was standing by the rune banks with his Data-spike inserted into a port, guiding the Servitor remotely like a marionette.

The squad watched the monitors and waited as the Servitor was cleared to pass the guards outside the tower. It was eerie to watch this from afar, all their training demanded that they should be going straight at the enemy with strength and fury, but if this strategy worked then they would have a spy right in the heart of the enemy's base. After a minute Novak commented, "It's working, they are letting it through."

Persion said, "Good, I worried they would detect something was off."

Toran stated, "Well they didn't, they seem to be vulnerable to unconventional strategies."

From the door, where he was keeping watch for patrols Jediah said, "These things are meant to be from the Dark Age of Technology, so why are their weapons so crude?"

Furion rubbed his chin and said, "They are limited by the quality of materials they can steal, you can't build a Plasma rifle out of scrap metal after all. But if they take over the whole Forgeworld then they will have unlimited access to resources, they will be unstoppable."

Toran said, "We have to prevent that happening, we have to destroy them here, before they grow too great in numbers. Now be quiet we are going in."

On the monitors the image rocked as the Servitor rolled forward, passing the many guards and entering the lower reaches of the tower. From afar the distant observers saw dark passages and abandoned rooms, shrines left to gather dust and laboratories utterly deserted. From the runebank Hevostan growled, "Is there no end to their blasphemies, those shrines have been neglected too long. The Omnissiah will be offended by such disrespect."

Toran said, "Focus brother, keep the Servitor moving lest they smell a rat."

Bylan however frowned and said, "+What is that?+"

Everybody peered at the monitors and they saw oddly piled heaps. Persion said, "Bodies, those are bodies. What could they possibly want with them?"

Toran replied, "Mysteries abound, but we shall not find answers until we reach the top of the tower. That is where the master system controls will be."

They all fell silent as their spy worked its way deeper into the tower, eventually reaching a large cargo grav-elevator. The Servitor was directed to roll straight onto the metal plate, which smoothly lifted it higher into the tower, passing deserted floor after deserted floor as it ascended. Swiftly the Servitor rose through the tower until it finally reached the top and rolled out into a single chamber, one filled with machines that took up the whole floor.

The room was lined with armourglass walls that showed the inverted sky outside, the eternal daylight making the place appear almost warm, yet the contents of the room told a different tale. Along one wall was a line of cages, filled with ragged, filthy people who cowered in terror or lay in pathetic despondency. These were not lordly Tech-Priests or cybernetic Magos, they were mere people, weak, unenhanced, the lowest of the low here on the Forgeworld. Across from the cages was a strange apparatus, a large collection of pipes, crystals and pulsing generators tied to arcane Logic Engines. At the heart of the device lay a man, bound and gagged, his eyes darting around in terror as he struggled uselessly in an attempt to get free. Around his head was a corona of needles, buried into his skull and from these came a collection of wires that ran straight into a large piece of crystal quartz, decorated with golden threads and input ports.

Standing near to the machine were two individuals, one in a red robe and the other made of silver plates with a beautiful death mask visage. Standing in the distant control room Bylan pointed and said, "+Look, that is the General, but who is that with it?+"

"Hush," said Toran, "Watch everything that happens."

In the monitors they could see the red robed individual, waving the Servitor to one side, ignorant of its subverted status. The spy rolled away and deposited its crate then stood patiently, as if awaiting its next instructions. The pair ignored it though, watching eagerly as the device before them began thrumming and quivering with power. Arcs of lightning jumped from point to point, a thunderous roar built up and the man trapped within began sobbing in terror. The roaring built in power and the machine shook as the crystal at the heart of it began to glow, but then there was a sharp bang and the man screamed. Fat arcs of lightning shot out of the device and hit the man, electrocuting and killing him in a heartbeat. The machine pulsed as its energies dissipated and then it slowly quietened as its systems fell into dormancy.

In the control room there was a sigh from the monitors and the squad heard a tinny voice echoing from afar, "Another failure."

Persion started as he recognised the individual and he growled angrily, "I know that voice, that is Genator Unix."

"Filthy Traitor," spat Jediah, "I knew we shouldn't have trusted those conniving Tech-Priests."

Toran however was only half-listening, his attention fixed upon the monitors as a second voice issued forth, this one rich and deep, like a man in his prime. It was coming from the silver-plated machine and it said, "Be patient my friend, we continue to make progress. We are so close to finding a way to making this work; it is just a matter of time until we crack the secrets of Bio-Transference."

Novak's jaw dropped and he whispered, "It can talk, that thing can talk?"

"Hush," said Toran, "We need to hear this."

On the monitors Unix was shaking his head and saying, "This should be working, we duplicated the design perfectly, so what keeps going wrong?"

The other replied thoughtfully, "Perhaps it is the quality of the subjects, these wastrels are hardly prime examples. Perhaps a sturdier subject would be able to survive the process, those steroid-pumping kludges might do."

"No!" spat Unix, "The Adeptus Astartes are far too dangerous, we can't let any of them live."

The other didn't sound concerned as it replied, "Hah, those kludges are mere copies of ancient designs, cheap, biological knock-offs of the true Machine-power that once sheltered humanity. In the Golden Age of Technology there were soldiers who could snap one of them in half, without even breaking a sweat."

Unix shook his head and said, "They are not here and the Men of Iron are hardly living up to expectations."

The other replied, "Don't worry, those are simple prototypes, proofs of concept as it were. When we rule the Forgeworld we shall make wonders such as you cannot comprehend, humanity will be saved by the marvels we shall engineer."

Unix didn't sound convinced as he said, "First we have to conquer this world, the Astartes are a threat to everything we have built."

"Very well," said the other, "If it will make you feel better we shall wipe them out. It was time we seized direct control of the Forge's defences anyway."

Unix sighed and said, "Thank you, let us waste no more time here. Servitor clean up this mess."

With that the pair strode out, riding the Grav elevator down and leaving the Servitor behind. In the distant control room everybody was watching with rapt attention, taking in every word their spy had relayed. Persion was the first to speak and commented, "Is it just me or did Unix sound like he wasn't the one in charge."

Furion nodded and said, "Damned fool has already lost control, he built something he couldn't master. The Men of Iron are the ones running things; the Magos is just a servant."

Novak was frowning and asked, "What were they talking about: Bio-Transference, what is that?"

Hevostan replied, "I have heard the term, in reference to the writings of Magos Bure from the Scarus Sector. He was posthumously declared a Heretek a century ago and all his records were locked away by the seal of the Fabricator-General himself. All that was left was a cryptic warning to report any and all encounters with something called, 'The Pontius'."

Toran shook his head and said, "It doesn't matter because we are going to put a stop to this right now. Hevostan can you access the Master System controls?"

"Yes," Hevostan remotely steering the Servitor over to a wall of Logic Engines in the tower, which it promptly connected itself to.

Toran said, "Good, can you shut this place down?"

Hevostan replied, "Not for long, the Abominable Intelligences will immediately detect my intrusion and block my access. Anything I can do will be merely temporary."

Furion interjected, "Can you distract the guards away, to get us in there?"

Hevostan nodded and said, "Yes, I am inserting an alert into the system. It should look like Third Company is mounting a second attack from the outside, most of the guards will be drawn away. We will have a short window to get inside the tower before they realise what I've done. "

"That's all we need," said Toran drawing his sword, "To arms Space Marines, we are going to fight our way into the heart of this darkness and burn it out. Let us show these Men of Iron what the best of mankind can do!"