Author's Note: My thanks to those who reviewed. And aye, Tau probably can't be possessed. The mission is of such importance that the High Lords themselves have selected a retinue for Valorus, replacing the retinue he was building.
Disclaimer: I can't remeber the last time I wrote one of these. I happen not to own anything owned by Games Workshop, including the Catechism of the Autoculus of Mars.
Spirit and Knowledge
Three figures scurried along one of the Corridors of Power, one of the high vaulted halls that made up the labyrinthine corridor network of the Imperial Palace on Holy Terra.
In silhouette they would have appeared as blobs, each was so heavily hooded and cloaked.
The first muttered, "The Inquisitor delays, why? He cannot know."
"Indeed he cannot," agreed the second, "he must merely be performing some routine task."
"Yet we must be prepared, we cannot allow him to become unduly aware," whispered the third.
"Indeed not," replied the first, his voice a grim hiss that lived off suspicion.
"Even if by some miracle he did become aware, what would it matter, all our agents are in position," said the second, turning to the third, "your men can, I suppose, be trusted."
"I assure you," answered the third, a man with an uncaring but calculating voice, "he is the best man in his position in all my organisation."
"I hope that criterion can be applied to the task in hand," said the second man, his voice accusatory.
"Please my lords," interjected the first before the third could retort, "we are here to fight a common enemy, and infighting can only weaken us. Do not be deceived that our enemies stand as only two and we are three, with possibly two more, they are yet extremely mighty."
"They can be brought down, I can see to it," said the second, a dangerous confidence lingering in the words.
"Plan your strike carefully sir," warned the third, "we would not want another outright war, the Imperium is waging more than I can count. And should you fail," he let the words hang in the still air of the corridor.
"Do not worry yourself about me, I am quite capable of pulling miracles off," answered the second, menace and veiled threat pulsing below his words. "In but a few months none of us will have anything to worry about."
They parted and the second muttered to himself, "And neither of you will have anything to worry with if I have any say in the events of those months."
On Mars the Fabricator General, fulfilling his duties as the Magos Mechanicus,
"Toll the Great Bell Once!
Pull the Lever forward to engage the
Piston and Pump…
Toll the Great Bell Twice!
With push of Button fire the Engine
And spark Turbine into life…
Toll the Great Bell Thrice!
Sing praise to the
God of All Machines!"
He spoke the Catechism of the Autoculus of Mars with fervour unfathomable because of the grating monotony of the sound through his vox set and the amplified sound of voice was almost drowned out by the tolling of the Great Bell.
After the service for the glory of the Omnissiah that followed he swept into the underground levels of the machine factory that was his palace, accompanied by two Skitarii with power axes.
The forest of servo arms from his back connected to the data ports on the walls of the corridors and assimilated the collected memories of every machine on Mars into the ancient memory banks built into his brain.
He met with another tech priest who would be long past decrepit if not for the metal built into his body.
"My lord," began the Archmagos who had greeted the Fabricator General after making a Cult Mechanicus sign of respect, "I am told that Ventr has been sent with an Inquisitor to investigate a planet that may hold the key to the Gift of the Omnissiah."
"This is correct."
"My lord I protest," stated the Archmagos, "The Inquisition has no business meddling in the affairs of the Mechanicus."
The Fabricator General would have laughed, if he had still been able to, "What is the purpose of the Inquisition if not to meddle? Besides, this venture is of utmost importance at the table of High Lords."
The Archmagos would have scowled, but instead an ultrasound transmitter on his back sent out a signal indicating annoyance, a receptor built into the Fabricator General picked up the signal as the Archmagos began, "We should not have to concern ourselves with the wishes of the High Lords of Terra. If the Imperium does not like our ways let it try to do without us."
"Do not be so foolish, granted the Imperium needs us, perhaps more than we need it, but remember that need it we do, and never forget it. Never."
"Yes my lord."