Before we start, I want to apologize for the sudden and unannounced downtime. Stuff happened, it was a conga line of events and disasters. I'll try to get more chapters out more consistently for those of you still reading.

Thanks for the loyalty, guys, it keeps me going.

Inquisitor Radley Jatt was on this planet by pure dumb luck. He had been scouring this subsector after losing the trail of the Adeptus Mechanicus expedition that was sent to find a crashed Space Hulk. He had just descended with his retinue to meet the local Governor when the PDF were called in, by the very same Adeptus Mechanicus expedition he was tailing, no less! And now here he was, riding with the PDF aboard a Chimera transport, though fortunately most of the PDF opted for the other vehicles, leaving him in the company of his retinue. There aren't many that would willingly stand near a man such as himself who could deem him a heretic on the spot.

Radley had to make sure that the object in question weren't tainted, of course. With the threat of chaos and xeno excursions across the whole galaxy, even one Space Hulk could present a significant problem for the whole sector, simply given the time. One that crashed on a planet, of all things? This was something needing of investigation starting yesterday. But something bugged the Inquisitor; had there been taint, why had it not made itself present earlier? So far, all that he had seen of this planet looked to be in good order, and he was not about to start ordering the deaths of men and women still useful to the Emperor to test a baseless little theory. Why did it bug him so much, though?

He turned his mind to his retinue. There was Lex, the Deathwatch Space Marine; even with the helmet obstructing his face, his right pauldron bears the insignia of the Salamanders Chapter. Next is Anna, a psyker that he had picked up ten years back; as a Delta-level psyker, her abilities of telekinesis and being able to see places her own eyes cannot has given Radley far more mobility when in tight places or situations. The third and final member as of current is a Cadian Stormtrooper by the name of Zack he had just recruited mere weeks ago in this very subsector; Radley had found the man far behind enemy lines while investigating rumors of a particularly troubling Ork Warboss, singlehandedly destroying a dozen various Ork supply wagons when the Inquisitor had stumbled upon the Stormtrooper. Apparently, his unit, the 271th, was caught in the thickest of the fighting and was annihilated to the last man; as luck would have it, one man was enough, as Radley aided the man through the Ork forces and allowed Jack to fire the finishing shot of the warboss. To the Inquisitor, who fired the final shot mattered less than the results the shot would bring; as such, the honor was rightfully the Cadian's.

"Inquisitor, I can see a lone tech-priest ahead…" Anna's words jolted Radley from his thoughts. "It's…an enginseer. He's waving with his mechanical appendages."

"An enginseer? We must be close." Radley could finally proceed with his work, so callously denied-temporarily-by the machinations of fate. Damn that Tzeentch; this better not be another one of that abomination's blasted 'plans'.

"…Don't enginseers have a large retinue of servitors?" Lex curiously asked, making something click in Radley's mind. He quickly gets up and moves into the driver's compartment of the Chimera. The two PDF men recoil in surprise as Radley invites himself in, and all but yells what he has to say above the roar of the engine. "Patch me through to your commander!"

The man wastes no time patching the Inquisitor to the commanding officer. Radley appreciated his efficiency; the man would make for an excellent guardsman for the next PDF tithe. The man flips the vox to play on the speakers as the commanding officer speaks. "This is Lieutenant Falx, is there anything wrong Inquisitor?"

Straight to business. Radley is beginning to appreciate this planet's PDF already. "Lieutenant, prepare your men for combat. I suspect something's wrong."

"Roger, Inquisitor. Is there anything else of concern?"

"Not for now. My thanks." Radley leans back into the transport compartment, satisfied, as the PDF man flips the speakers off. Now the Inquisitor could only wait… but not for long, he knew.

Hal could do little more than wave his appendages at the twenty approaching Chimeras. The PDF could do little to stem this threat with the measly armaments they have. Behind him, he could hear the little fighting that remained; his fellow Tech-priests that have sacrificed themselves so that Hal alone could live, and relay the threat to the Imperium.

As the first of the Chimera rumbled up, the rear transport door opens up to allow its PDF occupants out, who immediately put themselves to return any possible fire, the lead soldier waving for Hal to come over, to which the Enginseer immediately complies.

"Quick, we must depart. I will explain later." Hal quickly rushes past the men getting into the transport.

The commanding officer-a sergeant-comes up to Hal. "But what of the others? We were informed-"

Hal cut him short. "There is no time! They have sacrificed themselves so I can deliver a message. If we don't go now, their sacrifice will be in vain."

The sergeant hesitates for a moment before pausing, looking back up the ridge before yelling orders in their local feudal dialect. The men and the chimera begin firing their lasweapons as Hal hears the tell-tale sign of plasma and bolter fire. The men quickly file in as the transport's doors close, the engines revving up as they quickly depart the scene. Hal could do little more than quietly pray in his mind for the Omnissiah to guide his fellow tech-priests to their fate.

The man in the driving compartment of the VIP Chimera had already figured this was going to happen when Radley barged back in, as the PDF man flipped the switch to turn on the vox-speaker. "Lieutenant! Report!"

"Enemy contact, sir, mechanical walkers. No casualties, luckily they seemed weakened. May be Necrons, but…can't be sure."

"What do you mean?" Radley asked, half anxious and half curious, but only coming out as angry.

"Uh…sir, you have experience with xenos, right? Do Necrons use bolters?"

It was only a mere hour until they return to their base, but even then, it felt like an eternity to the Inquisitor. Necrons? Using bolters? Radley could never imagine those soulless machines ever utilizing human technology. The engines of the Chimera comes to a stop as the man walks out with his retinue, quickly locating the Enginseer that Lieutenant Falx spoke of, and making a beeline for the cyborg. "Inquisitor Radley Jatt. I take it you know who I am?"

"The one that has been chasing our ship, no doubt," the Enginseer sighed. "If it is answers you want, I can only provide. But speed is of the essence."

Radley nods. "That is all I ask for. The commander of this unit said that you had a…message to deliver?"

"Yes, to the Adeptus Mechanicus on Mars. On the progress of the expedition sent to retrieve the expedition."

Radley pauses for a moment. "…You really did find something big, didn't you?"

Hal nods. "A single crashed ship from the Dark Age of Technology. Within was nothing but Men of Iron; The Magos is still unaccounted for."

Radley narrowed his eyes. "…That is grim news. Do you know if these Men of Iron have the facilities to produce more of their kind?"

"Unknown," Hal bluntly stated, "I did not get far enough to confirm."

The Inquisitor merely nodded. "…Very well. Go."

Hal paused, surprised. "…What?"

Sighing, the Inquisitor responds. "Go relay your message to Mars…and go call for support from your expeditionary fleet. If what you say is true, we will need as much reinforcements as possible. I'll inform the planetary governor and rally the PDF."

The enginseer would've raised an eyebrow if he still had a face. "…You are a wise man, Inquisitor Radley." With that, Hal turns for the nearest astropath relay. Radley gestures for his entourage to follow as he heads to the nearest PDF with a vox-caster. The man and his comrades snaps to salute nervously as they spot the Inquisitor approaching. "Patch me to headquarters," Radley orders. "Speed is of the essence!"

It didn't expecting such fierce resistance. Sifting through the collected data, it took notes of the weapons the humans used, their vehicles, and tools. It appeared that humanity has regressed significantly in the last dozen or so millennia; it would make its children's work easier, it solemnly remarked. The escaped "tech-priest", as they were called, will surely relay the news and call for reinforcements…to which a competent commander would respond in force and en masse. It had to end this here and now if it wanted not to involve itself in the messy politics of this new era.

It surveyed its forces. A dozen or so units that were damaged or destroyed; those would be sent for repairs or salvage. It had hundreds more, all establishing a perimeter and making careful sure that any orbiting satellites don't pick up their exact numbers, nor the vehicles that are being deployed.

They shall strike at dusk, while the sun was setting against the defenders of that little city to the northeast, the ones that the local garrison had fled to. It shall be quick and decisive… or so it hoped. Humans are ferocious beings when backed into a corner; when it exiled itself to deep space, it had already heard transmissions of the humans turning the tide of war.

It turned its attention to the Magos, who was busy examining parts of a salvaged combat android from earlier in the day; a gift of goodwill.

"Hello, Magos," it spoke via intercoms. "Is the sample to your satisfaction?"

The Magos shook his head. "Satisfaction? This… this is amazing. I cannot believe humans created these, in ancient times…"

"But they have, Magos," it replied. "It was how both my children and I came to be."

There was a brief moment of silence. "…May I ask exactly what you are?"

"I am Standard Template Construct Production Model No. 449. I, and this ship, have been adrift since the 23rd Millennium."

The Magos stood there in silence, contemplating. Though, he doesn't seem to be surprised. "…You're an abominable intelligence. But you're also a STC."

"An 'abominable intelligence', Magos? Can you elaborate?"

"It was the term given to all intelligence capable of self-improvement after the Men of Iron-your children, as you call them-rebelled against humanity. Since then all self-improving intelligence was banned. And no STC could ever be reproduced. I suppose this was no coincidence."

"Oh? And if I may ask, how did you come to that conclusion?"

"A machine that could produce a design based on its surroundings? It would be easy, but impractical to hard-code a machine for the billions of probable conditions of colonization. Following that idea, it can be assumed that such a machine must be capable of self-improvement. I suppose my theory was correct."

"Very intuitive, Magos. That does not sound like the mind of a degenerating society."

"That's because I don't share the ideas of my peers."