A crowd had gathered around the landing site of the Imperial Lander. The Wallfolders were not precisely a primitive people, but this technology, brought by visitors from beyond the stars, was something beyond anything most of them had ever seen.
The gathered crowd stumbled backwards as the front gate of the lander began to open. With a hiss of equalizing pressure, the ramp dropped, and something like rolled out.
It was, though they had no way of knowing, a Leman Russ Main Battle Tank. Kitted out with a battle cannon and three heavy bolters, it was a fearsome threat, though far from the greatest war machine the Imperials had brought.
Lieutenant Mephisto watched as the armored vehicle rolled out of the lander and came to a stop next to his parked Chimera. Other landers would be coming soon, as soon as the exact status of the Imperials could be worked out.
He sighed. That was his job. He had been given the task of securing a treaty with the Kingdom of the Walls, the first step to folding a newly discovered world into the Imperium without war. Once the world was engaged in trade and dependent on Imperial imports, the Imperial Cult and the Ecclesiarchy could begin to pry the natives away from their false gods, which were often incarnations of Chaos.
Once the Imperial Cult was spreading on a world, pro-Imperial factions would inevitably develop. These would be quietly nurtured by the Imperium, until either the people demanded to join the Imperium or a coup could be arranged and the local government replaced by an Imperial Governor.
Mephisto almost felt bad about taking advantage of these people like that. They were brave, of that there was no doubt, and resourceful, given the unique method of fighting they had developed to battle the titans that plagued their world. However, there were threats out there that they had no defense against, and no knowledge of, and only membership in the Imperium could protect them.
In reality, he was doing them a favor.
He turned toward the escort solider that the Scouting Legion had assigned to watch over him while he came to watch the landing, and the young man began to lead him back towards the carriage waiting to take him to the inner walls.
[x]
Chaplin Kurlass walked off the ramp of the ladder, the people of the Walls completely unaware that their savior had arrived.
He was the senior Chaplain of the 33rd Grenadiers, a position that made him responsible for the souls of over twenty-five thousand men and women. It was a grave responsibility, and one that he took with deadly seriousness.
Now, the Emperor's divine wisdom had seen fit to put him in a position of responsibility over many more. Orbital imaging was unable to determine the exact population of humans on this godless world, but conservative estimates placed it at over a million, and possibly as high as ten million.
There was currently very little know about the religious status of the people of this world, but orbital imaging had confirmed the presence of structures that appeared to be religious in nature, and given that these primitive people had never heard of the Imperium of man, it was unlikely that they were churches given to the proper observances.
Kurlass reached the bottom of the ramp and stepped into the thronging crowd. They took a step away from this visitor from the stars, though weather it was out of their unfamiliarity with this strange man from the stars or discomfort with the various badges and symbols of his office was unclear.
As he strode off the boarding ramp, Chaplin Kurlass cut an impressive figure. Tall, even by the standards of these low-gravity natives, he wore a long black cloak with a variety of purity seals decorating it at strategic locations. A massive golden Aquila amulet hung from his throat, and the scabbard of his massive eviscerator hung from his back. His short black hair was shot with grey and cropped close to his head, and his eyes flashed as he surveyed the crowd.
Did he begin proselytizing now, while he had their attention, or did he wait until they were sufficiently awed by the miracles of Imperial technology? Such were the dilemmas of a Priest of the Emperor. While primitive worlds were often easy to convert, some clung tightly to their pagan superstitions and presented formidable challenges to the champions of the Emperor.
Still, Kurlass was up to a challenge. He would save this world, even if he had to set it on fire to do so.
As the crowd looked on, Kurlass spread his arms and began to preach.
"I come, as a humble messenger of the Divine Emperor of Mankind, who sits on Terra, immobile on the Golden Throne, fighting to save you from your sin."
The crowd seemed somewhat confused. Then, a small boy, who couldn't have been more than ten standard years old, stepped forward.
"Who's the Emprah?"
Inwardly, Kurlass sighed. This was going to be a long day.
[x]
Mephisto sat in the carriage, riding with Commander Erwin of the Scouting Legion and a man named Dot Pixis, apparently the commander of the Garrison, the largest branch of the Kingdom's military forces. Mephisto was currently finishing his discussion of the structure of the Imperium and the Imperial Guard.
"-And so, the Imperial Guard is divided into regiments, each of which is a self-contained fighting force. Ours is a relatively rare Combined Arms Grenadiers regiment, meaning it contains both infantry and tanks, as well as other heavy support vehicles."
Pixis tilted his head. "Forgive my ignorance." He said, "But I am unfamiliar with the concept of these 'tanks'. Could you perhaps enlighten me?"
"A tank is a self-propelled armored fighting vehicle." Mephisto said. "Imagine a carriage powered by an internal engine rather that horses, which is then plated with metal armor and equipped with a large cannon."
"But such a thing would only be useful for fighting other men," Pixis said. "Why would you need-"
"Not all worlds are plagued by titans as yours is." Mephisto said. "Without a common enemy, men often fight one another."
"I can understand that." Pixis muttered.
"And besides, as I've said, there are worse things than titans among the stars. Treacherous Xenos that seek to kill, enslave, or consume mankind. Foul Daemons, that wish for nothing more than the destruction of all mankind. There are plenty of inhuman foes that we need tanks to fight."
"I see." Pixis said. "So, you are offering your help to clear the titans from Wall Maria, is that correct?"
"Yes, essentially. The 33rd Grenadiers Regiment is a formidable force, and when combined with your knowledge of the titans, I believe that-"
"What do you really want from us?" Erwin suddenly shot in. "I've heard that line about needing soldiers, but I've seen your tech. You don't need us. So then, what do you really want?"
"What I said before about needing your soldiers is completely true. The population of your walls is what, a couple million?"
"Somewhere over five million." Erwin grumbled. "Used to be higher, but we lost a bunch of people in a misbegotten attempt to recapture Wall Maria five years ago. That was a mess."
"That's five million people that aren't currently fighting for the survival of mankind." Mephisto said. "Now, I know you have your struggles, but a Feudal World's fight for survival is nothing compared to the uncounted trillions of lives at stake when Cadia comes under attack."
"Trillions?" Pixis said, going slightly pale.
"Trillions." Mephisto said. "I hope that reinforces the gravity of the situation. And your world can provide not just five million people, but five million people hardened by fighting the titans. Colonists, eager to find a fresh start on a new world. Soldiers, forged in the fire of battling titans and equipped with unique methods of waging war."
"Humm." Erwin muttered. "So if you help us, we have to provide soldiers for your Imperium? Is that correct?"
"Basically." Mephisto said, thinking back to the diplomatic briefing packet he had received. "However, Imperial forces cannot intervene in local events without cause. In this case, that cause would be a mutual defense treaty. We assist in your defense against the titans, and you assist in the defense of the Imperium by providing soldiers. Simple, really."
"How many soldiers would we be expected to provide?" Pixis asked, putting his hand on his chin.
"For a world of this size, I would say about a hundred thousand." Mephisto answered calmly.
"And how do you expect us to raise such numbers?" Pixis said. "Our current forces only number around forty thousand."
"I imagine your people might be more eager to serve once they realize they will not be fighting titans." Mephisto said. It would be for the best that they didn't find out about the realities of Imperial service until later. "Plus, I have a few irons in the fire on that count."
[x]
Techpriest Enginseer Valerius Tiberius stopped in front of the forge that he had been told produced the Three-Dimensional Maneuver Gear used by the natives of this world. He had been chosen out of all the Mechanicus personnel of the 33rd Grenadiers to investigate the strange equipment, a great honor. Or possibly an indication that the rest of the Enginseers saw him as expendable. His logic programs were undecided.
He looked down at the piece of paper he had been given by the Scouting Legion soldier who had given him directions, then back at the building before him. This was the place.
Valerius was unsure of the social customs of this world, and after a moment of internal deliberation, chose to simply open the door. A mechadendrite snaked out from his back and wrapped around the doorknob and twisted it open.
As the door opened, Valerius strode in, and was met by blank stares. He paused for a moment, then realized that the sight he presented was somewhat overwhelming for organics unaccustomed to the presence of adepts of the Mechanicus. He was dressed in the red robes of his station, with his armor and augments visible where the long robe didn't cover. His Mechadendrite and Servo-Arm extended from his back, and below that hung his caped power axe.
"Hello?" One of the smiths said, "How may we help you, sir?"
Valerius turned to face the smith. His face was almost wholly unaugmented, so at least he appeared most human. That could be helpful when dealing with organics.
"I am Techpriest Enginseer Valerius of the Adeptus Mechanicus." Valerius said. "I have come to investigate the production of your Three-Dimensional Maneuver Gear."
The face of one of the other smiths light up. "Oh, you're with the Imperials, aren't you?"
Valerius nodded.
"I heard about what you guys did! Did you really destroy a hundred titans outside the walls?"
"I am unsure of the exact numbers, but-"
"That's not the point." The excited smith said. "I can't believe that Imperials are here! What do you want to see?"
Well, Valerius thought, that certainly wasn't the usual response.
[x]
"And this," The excited smith, whose name turned out to be Smith, said, "Is the factory floor. We use these machines to produce the components that go into each set of 3D Maneuver Gear."
"I see." Valerius muttered. "Where did the idea behind this Maneuver Gear come from?"
"That?" Smith said. "Nobody really knows. Angel Aaltonen was the first person to make 3D Maneuver Gear, though."
"Who was he?" Valerius asked. This was starting to get interesting, and he was finally getting at the reason he had come here.
"He was a weapon smith who live more than a hundred years ago. Built the first working Maneuver Gear."
"And how did he do that? Where did he get the plans?"
"I don't know. He probably invented them."
Valerius' blood, were it not perfectly regulated by his auto-marrow, would have run cold at the statement. Innovation was something that had to be handled very carefully by the servants of the Machine God. It was possible that this Angel person was a genuine prophet, divinely inspired with the knowledge to build Maneuver Gear. On the other hand, he could have been an imposter influenced by Chaos. If so, any devices built to his patterns were suspect.
Or, possibly, Angel had based his Maneuver Gear on something older, by 'dumbing down' something from the original colony ship that brought humans to his world. That was still a grey area for the Mechanicus, but if they could find the original device, all their problems would be solved.
"I need all the information you have on Angel Aaltonen." Valerius said. "This is a matter of grave seriousness."
[x]
"And so!" Kurlass announced to the assembled crowd. "The Light of the God Emperor shines down on each one of you. He demands only your obedience in turn. Turn aside from your sinful ways and except the light of the Emperor!"
Some half-hearted cheers went up at the speech, but not even nearly enough. Inwardly, Kurlass sighed. He was made for sustaining the faith of soldiers on the battlefield, not winning new converts to the Faith.
So he cheated.
"I bring to you a man bless by the Emperor, granted powers beyond mortal comprehension." Kurlass shouted.
From behind the stage in the large meeting hall, Primaris Psyker Isaiah mounted the stairs leading up to stage and climbed up to stand next to Kurlass.
"Now, bring me your sick, and inquired, that they may receive the blessings of the Emperor!"
Primaris Psyker Isaiah was a strange man. He had bulging muscles that rippled beneath the robes of his station, straining them in some places, and a magnificent handlebar mustache. He was also rather... Bombastic.
Nothing happened for a moment. The crowd muttered, but no one came forward.
"Are no of you willing to receive the blessing of the Emperor?" Kurlass shouted. "Are none here plagued by maledictions?"
Slowly, an old woman carrying a child walked forward. She wore a hood over her head and walked with a limp. The child was silent. The woman stopped at the base of the stairs leading up to the stage, clearly hesitant to advance. Kurlass beckoned her forward.
"My grandchild was afflicted by the red cough." She said, as she reached the top of the stairs. "His parents died during the fall of Wall Maria. Please, you're his last hope."
Kurlass nodded. The red cough could be one of any number of disease common to human space, or a local, home grown infection. However, it didn't really matter.
Isaiah stepped forward.
"May my associate touch your child?" Kurlass asked.
The woman nodded and began unwrapping the child. Isaiah walked over and held out a hand.
"By the Grace and power of Him on Terra-" Kurlass began "We beg that-"
"BIO-MANLY-MANCY!" Isaiah shouted, and his palm began to glow.
The light shown down from Isaiah's hand and touched the child, who began to glow as well. Isaiah held perfectly still for several seconds.
Then the child began to cry.
As the sound echoed through the meeting hall, the old woman fell to her knees, tears of joy running down her face.
"Where do I go?" She asked. "What do I do? How do I serve the Emperor?"
Kurlass smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. As he began reciting the words to induct her into the Imperial Cult, he reflected on what he'd done.
It was, to anyone who knew anything, not nearly the scam that it first appeared to be. It was only by binding to the Emperor that human Psykers were able to operate with any measure of safety, and only his protection that shielded them from the Perils of the Warp.
However these people didn't need to know that.
As the crowd surged forward toward Isaiah, Kurlass smiled. He might just save this place yet.
[x]
Colonel Richardson looked over the report gathered from the planet below. Things seemed to be going rather well. The Chief Chaplin's efforts to convert the populace were going well, especially in the week since he had given permission for his to use the regiment's Primaris Psyker in his conversion efforts.
There were some disturbing reports from the regiment techpriest about the Three-Dimensional Maneuver gear used by the locals coming in from the investigating techpriest, reports that the system may have been independently innovated without the protection of the Standard Template. If so, the planet could be in grave danger of falling to chaos.
However, the regimental Psykers had failed to find any trace of corruption in the 3D Maneuver Gear, implying that the design may be safe from daemonic influence after all. However, he had authorized further investigation.
On the diplomatic front, things were moving rather more slowly than he would have liked. He figured he only had a few more weeks until the Warp Drive was repaired to conclude a treaty with the Wallfolders. If the Warp Drive was repaired without a treaty in place, he would be compelled by his orders to move on from the system to complete the mission he had originally been assigned. However, if a treaty was in place, he had a legitimate excuse to hold his regiment in place.
Richardson took a drink from the glass on his desk. He really didn't want to leave the humans of this world to their fate. They were unprepared to face the horrors of the universe, not to mention the domestic threats they faced.
He took another drink. There was also the matter of his own regiment. He didn't feel ready to throw them into the cauldron of war. He had been secretly dreading what would happen when they arrived at their destination, but this detour changed everything. This planet had a competent, hardened defense force.
Perhaps they could teach his men something about the craft of being soldiers.
But to do that, they needed to conclude a treaty, and quickly.
An idea occurred to Richardson. It made perfect sense. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?
Richardson picked up the vox on his desk and dialed. "Yes? Send in the Typhoon Prince. He'll know what to do."
[x]
Ambassador Mephisto stood before the royal court of the walls, standing behind a podium. After a long discussion by the nobles on the topic of assuming the treaty with the Imperium, Mephisto had been asked to speak.
"There are a great many benefits to joining the Imperium." He began, projecting his voice due to the absence of a vox system for the chamber. "First and foremost, we can offer you protection from the monsters that lurk beyond your walls. With the assistance of the 33rd Grenadiers, you can reclaim the wall that you have lost, and strike back against the titans."
"But what will it cost us?" Nile Dok, the head of the Military Police, asked. "Is protection from these strangers worth sending our sons and daughters to fight and die in other realms?"
"You already send your children to fight hopeless battles." Mephisto countered. "If you're going to send your children to their deaths, why not let them die in battles that matter?"
"Out fight for survival matters!" Nile shot back. "Who are you to say that the fight against the titans doesn't matter?"
"I am the man who represents a power that can sweep away the titans like snow before the spring rains." Mephisto said. "You have seen only a fraction of the power that my people have in orbit in this world, and only the merest speck of the vast power that is the Imperial Guard. By not fighting as hard against the titans as you possibly can, you are the man rendering the struggle meaningless."
"Fine." Nile said. "Let's say you're right. What else do you have to offer us in exchange for our soldiers?"
"We can bring medicines and fertilizers orders of magnitude better than anything you have now." Mephisto said. "If you pay your tithe, the Imperium may invest in this world and develop your infrastructure and economy, with an eye toward improving the volume of soldiers you can provide."
"What you propose is high heresy against god's walls!" Pastor Nick declared. "You would seek to replace what god has given us with the work of men, how could you-"
Mephisto turned toward him, eyes narrowing. "You would accuse me of Heresy, a man who doesn't even know the Emperor?"
"Your false Emperor is beside the point." Nick responded. "The walls were given to us by-"
"Who do you think built the walls, anyway?" Mephisto said, "the way I see it, the Emperor built your precious walls. He sits on his Golden Throne, on faraway Terra, an eternal protector of mankind. It is hardly beyond his power to reach out and raise these walls to protect mankind on this planet."
"You- What- But-"
There was a rushing sound from outside the hall. Many of the nobles looked around in confusion, but Mephisto recognized the sound instantly. It was the sound of a heavy turbolifter, like one used to move large detachments of the Imperial Guard.
Or very large objects.
There was a massive thud, and the rushing sound began to recede. The nobles in the room pointed in fear at the west windows of the hall as a humanoid silhouette appeared in the light of the setting sun, slowly standing up from a crouch.
"Titan!" Someone shouted.
Almost immediately, the various nobles began to panic. The soldiers present took up positions near the west wall, but none of them had their 3D Maneuver gear. This deep in Wall Sina, why would they need it?
As the nobles panicked, Mephisto smiled. "ORDER!" He shouted, in a voice well used to giving commands. "ORDER IN THE COURT."
The panic began to subside, various people looking at Mephisto in confusion.
"THAT IS NOT A TITAN." He continued. "Well, not exactly..."
The door on the west end of the hall opened, and a man strode in. He was dressed in a bulky green jumpsuit, with silvery ports on various parts of his body. He stood tall, like a king, short black hair contrasting with his pale skin and bright eyes. A long scabbard rested at his hip.
"Hello." The man said. "I am known as the Typhoon Prince, and the Commander of the Failure Brigade has asked that I come down here to assist in the negotiation process. So I suppose I'll cut to the chase. I'll duel any man here who feels that the treaty is a bad idea."
There was silence for a moment.
"So then I suppose you all approve of the treaty, then?" The Typhoon Prince said. "Good. I'll get to work with preparing my machine to reclaim Wall Maria, then."
"What do you mean, your machine?"
Mephisto smiled.
[x]
It stood ten meters tall, though in its kneeling position it was much shorter, larger than most of the titans. It was painted a deep emerald green, with gold and silver highlights, and stood in the shape of a hunched over man, its head level with its shoulders.
One of its arms ended in a massive cannon, and the other terminated in a meters-long chainsword blade. Two Ordinance pods carrying heavy missiles rested on struts extending up and outward from its shoulders, and its skin practically bristled with secondary defensive weapons.
It was a Knight of the Imperium, and its pilot promised to lick any man in the house.
Despite the similarity the massive Knight bore to the titans that lurked in their nightmares, the children found the machine entertaining enough. After all, living behind wall Sina, none of them had ever seen a titan, and this new thing was certainly interesting.
Mephisto walked up to the Typhoon Prince, who was watching the children of the walls scramble over his war machine.
"Thanks for showing up." Mephisto said. "We really needed something to shock them."
"Anything for the Failure Brigade." The Typhoon Prince said. "And I certainly think we shocked them."
"Agreed." Mephisto said. He had met the Typhoon Prince once previously, and while he wouldn't say he was friends with the man, they were not strangers. "By the way, why do you call us that?"
"Because you are?" The Prince said. "You've failed every time you've met the enemy in battle. Thus, Failure Brigade."
"I see." Mephisto said. "You know, a less understanding man might take offense at that."
"I have a giant robot." The Typhoon Prince said.
"But you still need logistic support, screening armor and infantry... so many things from the Failure Brigade." Mephisto said, looking at a child attempting to scramble up one of the gun mounts on the Knight.
"Fair enough." The Prince said.
"So, that doesn't look like a standard Knight." Mephisto said. "I mean, I've seen them in propaganda videos, and they didn't look like that."
The Typhoon Prince nodded. "That's right. I'm impressed you noticed that, actually. You'd be surprised how many people don't. It's a custom."
"Really."
"Yeah. Top of the line servomotors and synth-muscle, adamantium and ceramite plating, the works. The shoulder-mounted ordnance pods are completely non-standard, based on the carapace mounted weapons on the Warlord-class titan. The heavy stubbers were upgraded to multilasers, and I had my Sacristan add an extra one near the head, where heraldry would normally go."
"Interesting." Mephisto said. "And the other guns?"
"Hot-shot volley guns." The Typhoon Prince said. "Eight in total. Short ranged, but good for shooting up infantry trying to tickle my feet with krak grenades or incoming vanquisher shells."
"You've shot down vanquisher shells?" Mephisto asked, shocked. Vanquisher shells were a small, fast moving target, and shooting one down was quite a feat.
"A few times." The Prince said. "I need a lot of help from the Coginator and Machine Spirit. Plus, I can't be doing a lot at the time, and even then it gives me a headache. Mostly, I let the ion shield deal with that sort of thing. Still, it's a neat trick, and it comes in handy."
"I'd imagine so. Any other special features?"
"There's an Icarus Lascannon array mounted in the carapace." The Prince said, putting his hand on his chin. "I didn't like the idea of being helpless against aircraft. In fact, I downright hate them. The ordnance pods can be kitted out with flakk missiles, too."
"Not bad." Mephisto said. "I'm not partial to enemy air power myself. Glad to have you with us, fire magnet."
"Hey. So what's the plan from here, Ambassador?"
Mephisto sighed. "I'm a soldier, not a diplomat. I don't really know what to do. What about we stage a coup with your giant robot and, vaporize the local leadership, and take over."
"Really?"
"I doubt that they have anything that could stop us."
"Still, you're supposed to be an ambassador." The Typhoon Prince said.
"Where'd you get that machine, anyway?" Mephisto asked abruptly.
"I... I'd rather not talk about it." The Prince muttered.
"Fine." Mephisto said. "So, you've read the files. Who do you think is our biggest problem?"
"I think we can win over the Chief of the Military Police, Nile Dok, with logic." The Typhoon Prince said. "Pastor Nick will be a problem, but your Chaplin is working to undermine his power base. Once we've converted a substantial fraction of the populace, we won't have to worry about him."
"But that could take years, and Colonel Richardson seems to want results quickly."
The Prince nodded. "Agreed. Darius Zackly, their Commander-in-Chief, seems like he'll side with us. He wants what's best for humanity, and that's us, in this case."
"What do you think about the King, Felix?" Mephisto said, watching as a child lost his grip on one of the hot-shot lasguns and tumbled a short distance to the ground. "I just can't get a read on him."
"I don't think he is the real power here." The Typhoon Prince said quietly. "I've dealt with puppet kings before, and he gives off the same vibe as they did."
"Well, that changes everything." Mephisto said. "If we can just find the person pulling his strings, we can-"
"Unfortunately, I have no idea who that is."
"Oh." Mephisto sighed again and turned back toward the hall where the meeting was being held. "The recess is almost over. We'll have to go back in there soon."
[x]
"Here it is!" Smith shouted, jumping out of his seat triumphantly. "This is it!"
Valerius looked up from the book he was reading. "What did you find?" The Enginseer said.
"'Angel Aaltonen was an eccentric man'" Smith read. "'Often, he took long walks into the depths of the caverns beneath the Central District'. This could be what you were looking for! Some kind of ancient spaceship!"
"Excellent work." Valerius said. "We must go there immediately."
"But the Central District is hours away on horseback. There's no way-"
"No time for that!" Valerius said. "I'm calling in a Valkyrie."
[x]
For a hundred years, the air inside the cavern had remained undisturbed. It was dusty, but peaceful, tranquil, and-
The glowing blade of a power-axe appeared in one wall of the cavern. It rested in place for a moment, then was withdrawn.
Instants later, the axe struck again, in a different location this time. A flurry of axe blows followed, intermixed with strikes from a powerful servo-arm, and the ancient metal quickly gave way before the assault.
As the wall crumbled, the imposing figure of a Techpriest Enginseer of the Adeptus Mechanicus stepped through the breach. A mechadendrite rose in the air behind him, with a brightly glowing light at its tip illuminating the space beyond.
Behind the techpriest, and unarmed and unarmored human dressed after the Wallflower fashion walked through the gap, closely followed by four Grenadiers in Carapace armor and carrying lasguns. The party stopped just inside the space and looked around the space illuminated by Valerius' light.
"I think we have the right place." Smith said.
"Agreed." Valerius replied, looking in awe at the ancient technology surrounding him.
To be honest, most of it looked pretty crappy. A thousand plus years of age will do that to a lot of things.
"If there is a precursor device to the 3D Maneuver Gear, this is where we'd find it." Valerius said, "Guardsmen, bring in the auspex device. Anywhere is good."
Two more guardsmen shuffled into the space, carrying a heavy auspex scanner between them. They set it up and activated it, and began scanning the area. Valerius a second mechadendrite, this one tipped with an interface device, into the auspex and began reading the machine's scans.
Several minutes passed, then he spoke. "I'm detecting the presence of the residue of what looks like a plasma reactor leak."
The guardsmen looked concerned at the statement. "Sir, is it..."
"It's perfectly safe." Valerius said. "The last of the radiation died down hundreds of years ago. Still, this could be what drove the original settlers away from the ship hundreds of years ago." The Techpriest was getting excited. "That could explain the low-tech state of this world!"
"Sir..."
"Right, yes." Valerius concentrated on the auspex readouts, then gestured with a mechanical tendril. "There seems to be something in that direction."
The party set off at a walk, the two guardsmen carrying the auspex array and the other four providing cover. They stopped occasionally for Valerius to sample the readings from the auspex, at which point they would change direction, seemingly at random.
"Sir?" One of the guardsmen asked at last. "Where are we going?"
"Nowhere in particular." Valerius said. "I'm just getting my bearings on this ship. It's rather small for a colony vessel, and I'm starting to figure out where things might be."
They kept walking for a while. Smith marveled at the various things that his ancestors had apparently crafted, and tried to ignore the piles of ivory colored dust that dotted some of the rooms.
After a while, all of Valerius' mechadendrites suddenly shot into the air. "I think I have it! If this ship is laid out like other examples of ancient Terran colony ships, then I think I know where the Engineerium would be."
The group set off at a rapid pace, limited primarily by the slow speed of the team carrying the heavy array. They went up and down ancient, creaking staircases and through long corridors, eventually coming to a large, wide-open space.
The floor of the massive room was covered in pods-shaped mounds, about waist height on the men present and about the size of coffins.
"What are these?" Smith whispered, looking around the room.
"I suspect this is a Cryrotorium." Valerius said. "A space where colonists were frozen solid for the long journey across the stars."
"Frozen solid... But how?"
"Archeotech." Valerius said, and began to pick his way through the rows of pods.
The rest of the group followed him through the space, which felt strangely like a tomb. Valerius paused in the middle of the room to take a reading from the auspex, then pointed ahead with his mechadendrite.
"There's something that way." He said.
The group finished picking their way through the stasis pods and came to a door at the end of the room, sent into a long, high wall.
"It would make sense that they would want their Engineerium close to their stasis chamber." Valerius said. "That way, if something went wrong, it could be fixed immediately.
Valerius moved to open the door with his power axe, but smith stopped him, pointing at the edges of the door. It bore the scars of a previous forced opening, and when he tried a conveniently-placed handle, the door swung open easily.
"By the Omnissiah." Valerius muttered as he walked into the room.
It looked like a cross between an archeological dig site and a Feudal World workshop. Tools hung on the walls, and items of all descriptions rested on workbenches scattered around the room. Of particular note was a large device resembling an unequipped 3D Maneuver Device resting on a pedestal in the center of the room. It appeared to be in state of partial deconstruction, with tools and components laid out around it.
"I think we found what we were looking for." Smith said, then paused. "What exactly were we looking for?"
"We were looking for the technological basis for the 3D Maneuver Gear." Valerius said. "I doubt that a world of this technology level could produce something 3D Maneuver Gear unassisted. Thus, my theory that Aaltonen based it off of an Archeotech relic, theories which seem to have been proven correct."
Smith pulled a sack out of his pocket, unfolded it, and approached the artifact. He was less than a foot away when Valerius hissed, "Don't touch that!"
"Why?" Smith said. "It looks safe enough."
"You might set off a trap, or worse, upset the Machine Spirit." Valerius said. "I'm trained in dealing with Archeotech. Let me handle this."
Valerius turned to one of the guardsmen. "Private, approach the relic and, very gently, poke it."
"Sir, are you sure that-"
"Do it, Guardsmen!"
The guardsmen gingerly approached the relic, reached out a finger, paused for a moment, and then touched the relic.
Nothing happened.
"Good." Valerius said, selecting a chunk of metal about the same size and shape as the relic and walking toward the pedestal. "Now step back, very carefully."
Holding the chunk of scrap metal in one of his mechadendrites, Valerius placed the metal on the pedestal next to the relic, took a deep breath, then grabbed the artifact with his natural hands while pushing the scrap metal into its place with his robotic appendages.
Valerius stood, marveling at the object held in his gloved hands. He was holding a first-generation Archeotech relic, one never touched by a servant of the Machine God. He savored the moment for a few seconds, then placed the relic in a pre-consecrated plastic bag prepared just for the purpose.
"Alright." He said. "Take anything that isn't bolted down, and call me to rip out anything that is. We need to get this thing back to the ship."