Ask and you shall receive!
Also, once more, I'd like to thank Valdicus for giving this a once over before I posted it here, hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own Jackshit.
XXX
Setting up a look-out point to see within the corridor had been easy, simply hiding a Collector in a nearby vent after carefully cutting it open and sealing it shut was enough for me to get a potential lookout in place. Ever since I'd made the second Fabrication Walker, I'd been careful to keep an atmosphere intact within the vessel, creating massive airlocks that cycled quickly and could be used to allow my Walkers to travel deeper into the Spacehulk in the search for more materials and even more space to work with. Keeping the atmosphere within the vessel might not have been needed for my case, but I didn't know what effective explosive decompression would have on a ship trapped on a Spacehulk, trapped within the Warp, and with no idea what it might do to the Gellar Field.
I quite enjoyed living, thank you very much.
Still, a lot of the work had been already done, all my units had long since been transferred to the area with atmosphere, however thin, and were mostly clearing out entire sections of the massive craft. Multiple hollows had been created while a fair bit of the structural supports had been left alone. I say a 'fair bit', because a number of them had still been cut apart in order to allow me to sample the materials within them. Then again, a lot of stuff was still being investigated as I worked on a forth Fabrication Walker to help keep up with the strain and started upgrading the Collectors. The changes amounted to basically adding a small Fabricator to them that would allow them to interface with any kind of technology with a kind of Omni-port connection. Still, even as I did that, I worked quickly to also create infantry units that could be useful in this situation since I needed to know what I was up against.
In that respect, a part of me simply wanted to rush in and kill or capture anyone present, since I could then interrogate them for information. Even corpses would grant me a fair amount of information, as long as the head was still intact. Absentmindedly, I considered about what to do after that, since I leery of simply executing them before I considered the universe I was in, the simple fact that it was 40K meant that if I didn't kill my enemies, then they would come back and try and kill me again, with an awareness of my capabilities that would work against me. I mentally sighed at that, knowing the risk as I started making plans, gathering information as I started hacking into hard lines as more Collectors started watching the corridor, a few of them even cut open an empty pipe and started scurrying along it, sensors active as they looked for a way out.
It was almost five hours before the Collectors finally saw something. A group of eight large Servitors, undead Zombies, were carrying a massive container between them, handles had been welded on to the sides of the container as a scan showed the liquid contents within. At the head of the procession, I saw a group of what I recognized as four Skitarii Rangers, each one wearing the crumpled remains of the overcoats that were covered in muck, dirt and rust flakes, making it difficult to guess their original colour. Absently, I considered what to do as I looked over the data even as I started construction on my first Infantry unit, what I had decided to name as my Sentries. As a result of my own interest and current style, I decided to stick with the designs that I had been going for, and based the design on the Legionnaire from the same source material as the rest of my designs.
The entire thing stood around 2.5 metres tall, and 1.2 metres wide across the shoulder, smooth armor dominated the entire thing while a single, white visor acted as the main sensor for optical input. Twin antenna were located on the head, adding a mix of other sensors to the design while the complex musculature systems were made of a mix of motors, servos and synthetic muscle bundles, all optimized to fulfil a given role within the design as I looked into other systems I could add, flight being one of them. The basic model was designed to be tough, using a custom alloy based on the Progenitor alloys in my memory banks and the Ceramite alloys and Plasteel I had found. Adamantium was still out since it was still being researched, but the current alloy was calculated to have sufficient strength to make up the difference... Hopefully. Weapons were another point that I looked at, going for a simple mix of ranged and melee options with a large, double barrelled Railgun mounted on the left forearm, a Fabricator connected to the ammo feed system to allow for any kind of ammo to be produced within it. The barrel was adjustable and could be lengthened or shortened at will, depending on the ammo and situation involved.
The right forearm, however, had a weapon that I found rather nice, called a Banshee Blade. The weapon itself was a chainsaw that used the same technology as Rail guns to accelerate the blades rather than a simple motor, the end result creating a hypersonic chainsaw, but produced a high-pitched whine when in use. Not something that was good for stealth, but the blades alone could still be deadly, especially with the upgraded alloy composition, the mono-molecular edges on each tooth, and the fact that I had installed shrunken down vibration devices into each tooth, turning each tooth into a Vibroblade. Lastly, I had a pair of nine-shot micro-missile launchers installed into the back of each machine, concealed into the armor of the shoulder blades and retracted when not in use. Once empty, they could retract to be reloaded from internal Fabricators.
This was to be the standard grunt of my future forces, though, I considered it rather good, but I didn't know how it held up against the locals yet. For all I knew, this thing could be total overkill or so underpowered it wasn't even a joke. Still, I made a batch of fifty of them and got them ready for combat, installing adaptive learning programs into them and setting up a dedicated series of processes to handle the incoming data, they would serve to refine any future iterations of the software I had used to improve the machines, especially since I was sure that while they could throw a punch and hack something to bits, I had my doubts about their abilities at CQC. Especially since all I had to go on were the simulations that the sub-processes were running, not something that inspired a lot of confidence, especially with a lack of accurate data points to use to provide comparison against the local factions.
With that done, I waited for them to be completed and set a waypoint, for lack of a better term, for the look-out point that my Collectors were swarming around, a set of Collectors having already split off to follow the Servitors from a distance as they kept a close watch on the advancing cyborgs. I made sure that they kept out of line of sight, using their tails to remain unnoticed and peer around corners to ensure it was safe, though, they mainly stuck to the vents. I had them slowly move around, following the vents as they were mapped out thoroughly by the returns from various sensors.
Even as that was taking place, I had other Collectors moving around. A few were tracing back the steps of the corridor, some clambering along the massive pipes they looked around for a potential exit point even as they mapped the world around them. I made sure to have them travelling in groups, mostly because I had no idea of what could have been lurking within the bowls of an Imperial warship, especially since I was pretty sure there were either Genestealers or mutants running around somewhere.
Maybe I was being paranoid, maybe not, still, until I saw proof to the opposite I was more than happy to be paranoid, since I saw paranoid equal to continued survival...
XXX
It took a while, but my Collectors finally managed to track the Skitarii back to their base of operations, or, at least, the entrance to it. The entry way was heavily fortified, with several gun emplacements and turrets decorating the walls, floor and ceiling around the doorway, which seemed to be a kind of internal airlock that was at least two metres thick and made from alternating layers of metal. I saw no further than that, but it made me realize that I'd need to be smart about this, mostly because I had next to no idea what the hell I was looking at beyond the airlock, I needed another approach...
Immediately, the thought of diplomacy was discarded, the Admech would kill me just for existing, even a splinter faction lost in the Warp. My only real option was to attack, take what I needed and then recycle the rest to feed my growing economy. I had ten Fabrication Walkers online, most of them were pumping out a mix of Collectors and Sentries that were all heading for my lookout point even as a few dozen other machines worked to feed a steady supply of materials into my Walkers. At the moment, the force stood strong at around 150 Sentries and almost four times that many Collectors, a reasonably large force, but one I was still planning to enlarge as I continued to dig through the confines of the Spacehulk, moving closer and bringing my Fabrication Walkers with me.
On a related note, my other Collectors had managed to track the Servitor convoy back to its origin point, following the most recent tracks in the muck-covered deck plates and finding another sealed chamber. However, luck favored me for a change and I found a way in through one of a multitude of broken pipes that were scattered through the lower levels of the chamber.
Pipes big enough to drive a Mini Cooper through without any undue difficulties, if only just.
Said chamber was massive, a vast complex of tanks that, for the most part, were filled with liquid that I recognized as being the same as what the Servitors had been carrying. At a guess it could be fuel, probably Promethium, further investigation would be required. My Collectors look upwards, towards the upper levels where I saw Tech-Priests moving around catwalks and walkways with Servitors filling up more containers, several of which were almost full.
Looking at them, I could guess that they had been marooned not long ago, then again, that could mean a few centuries or more for all I knew. Their cloaks were still covered in muck, but I saw their distinct red colour underneath the dirt and grime. Absentmindedly, I considered what to do as I queued up more Sentries and Collectors, weighing up the pros and cons of acting against one, or both, Admech positions.
For the pros, if I did, then I had the chance to gain access to a few dozen corpses and all the cybernetic implants within them, not to mention any tech that the Admech forces might have held on their person, or the designs stored within their implants, since I doubted they kept all the info entirely in their organic brains. Not only that, but live captures had the potential of offering more information up to me that I might miss, either via being deleted or simply not being recorded in any location save for their organic brains. The cherry on top of this was that I could get a few dozen bits of info back, combat data being the greatest thing to come of it as I looked at the images from my Collectors.
For the cons, the simple fact of the matter was that I was facing Tech-Priests who had managed to live through their ship being lost to the Warp. How they managed to pull that off, I had no idea, but that implied a few things, mainly that they were either the luckiest motherfuckers alive, or that they were verified Badasses that could perform combat engineering while under assault by Daemons. I didn't know which option I preferred, but that latter wasn't something I looked forwards to, especially if I lost this engagement.
Absentmindedly, I considered the option of simply avoiding them before throwing it away, that option wasn't possible, especially in the long term. Sooner or later, they would run out of whatever liquid they needed from within those tanks. When that happened, they would go looking for more. A quick check and I found that the Collectors had run into at least three such storage locations in their quest for raw materials, all empty and with pipes leading further into the ship, most of which were cracked or bust wide open. The damage near them certainly wasn't pleasant.
Still, with that in mind, I sent the orders. over a hundred Collectors and fifty Sentries converged to the Liquid storage location while the others waited at the look-out position. I'd wait until the next shipment went through before I considered attacking, since I wanted to have as much time as possible before the other group could call for reinforcements. Not to mention that fact that it would give me plenty of time to recon the areas in question.
As such, I sat back and waited.
XXX
Turns out, I didn't have to wait long.
The next group of cyborgs that went for that liquid fuel came out less than six hours after the first, the Servitors trailing behind the Skitarii Rangers like ducklings. They walked a bit more easily now that they held the empty container between them. Said container was about the size of a small-ish van, but the fact it was empty probably helped, as they passed my forces by, I took a careful look at what they held, trying to compare their weapons to images that I could recognize from my life before all... This.
I watched with interest as the Collectors scurried around, hidden in darkness and behind pipes as they climbed up, having used their webbing to create blankets to hide themselves from sight. Further, I had them build ropes to help the Sentries climb with as quietly as possible. The result was larger the machines easily making it up to the catwalks without being immediately detected, and hiding behind a few of the larger pipes. I made sure to make a note of that trick. Letting them remain hidden, I waited as the doors to the chamber slowly rumbled open. I watched the Tech-Priests coming out, a dozen hidden alcoves were revealed and I made a note for groups to investigate once the main area was taken.
With a deep thump, I watched the as the main container was put down, the Servitors letting go of their ad hoc handles before heading for one of the containers that was full.
Once they were out of immediate reach of anything, I made my move.
Almost instantly, machines burst from the shadows as it seemed to literally rain Collectors and Sentries, several Sentries bursting through the curtains of webs and using their thrusters to immediately gain altitude in order to land on the catwalks. Clawed toes scrapped against the grated floor, Banshee Blades spinning up within an instant as the first Sentry made contact with the closes Tech-Priest and brought it's chainsaw down, the spinning teeth making contact with the shoulder of the poor bastard and ripping into flesh and metal alike. Gore, blood and oil were quickly splattered everywhere around the Tech-Priest in question, even as it was cut diagonally from shoulder to waist. Other Sentries followed, extending their Banshee Blades or firing with their Rail guns, the Rangers had been marked as priority targets and, as such, were some of the first to fall as they were blasted apart with high-calibre HEAP bullets. Limbs were ripped off while the remains of implants quickly decorated the walls and floor. Servitors quickly joined the ranks of cooling corpses as the kills quickly counted up. The Collectors moved quickly and surged over the dead and dying, either killing them or webbing their bodies up to be transported elsewhere.
Still, even with surprise on my side, the Admech Tech-Priests were quick to recover, and showed exactly why they had survived on a Spacehulk for as long as they had.
Those immediately outside the range of the ambush came quickly at the sound of the attack, hordes of Servitors following behind them as they unsheathed Plasma weapons, Power weapons and dozens of Servo-Arms and Mechadendrites flailing around them, firing at everything they could get in reach of. The first Collector that they ran into was smashed, an over handed hit from the Omnissian Power Axe of one came down, the cog-shaped blade almost splitting the machine in half as a dozen Las-bolts followed up, scorching the thinner armor of the machine even as a foot came down and crumpled the armor further. The Axe was wrenched out as other Enginseers rushed forth, their own hordes of Servitors firing away with integrated Las-weapons and various Stubbers of different designs and sizes. A dozen Collectors fell in as many seconds as the Sentries moved in, reinforcements already being sent as I started producing even more of the machines in question. Still, the Collectors had exacted a toll, having used their own weapons to grim effect as several Servitors were either missing limbs or dead, and a few Enginseers were on the ground as well, not to mention the few that were missing a few limbs or with a few extra breathing holes...
The first exchange between untested Sentry and Enginseer wasn't actually as bad as I thought, the machine rushing in before ducking a swipe from the Power Axe of the Enginseer even as it fired in return, scoring several hits that dented and punctured the Power Armor of the Priest in turn. Coming back around, the machine lunged with it's Banshee Blade extended, the spinning teeth already moving at hypersonic speeds when it came down on the Priest, missing by millimetres as the Priest took a step back in time to save himself. The Priest charged forwards in turn, swinging the Power Axe around, trying to cut the machine in half, but missing in turn, however, before the machine could recover, the Enginseer lashed out with a kick, catching the Sentry's leg and kicking them out before grabbing the infantry robot with a Servo-Arm. Instantly, with that, the Enginseer had the leverage to throw the Sentry around, into a wall before following it up with several more shots from various Mechadendrite-mounted Lasguns. The damage was minimal, but the impact was enough to knock something amiss as the machine's programming tried to compensate for it, even as it fell out of the indent it had left in the wall before falling to the ground.
That was all the time the Enginseer needed to capitalize on the mistake of the Sentry, rushing forwards and slamming the head of his Axe into the stunned machine with augmented strength.
"For the Omnissia-ARGH!?" The Enginseer tried to make a rallying cry, wanting to enthuse his allies as they fought back against my tide of machines. However, he never got a chance as he suddenly found himself with several new holes in his chest, courtesy of the Collectors that had been watching from afar, their Particle Beam weapons being overcharged enough to punch deep into their augmented flesh and burn both flesh and metal away. That probably hadn't been enough to kill the Enginseer, but that was a moot point considering that another Collector had rammed its tail right through his chest.
The Axe hit the floor as it fell from the now numb fingers that used to hold it, quickly followed by the corpse once the tail had been removed.
Still, none of my machines stop or hesitated, fear being a concept none of them knew as they marched back into the fight, towards the distant sounds of battle, where another group had circled around and attacked via breaching through a wall. The suddenness of the new attack, not to mention the freshness of the new units, ensured that the Tech-Priests faced an uphill battle, one that they knew since their numbers continued to fall. Even then, I'd give them credit where it was due, especially since they made me pay for every one of their number that fell with ten of my machines.
Unfortunately for them, that was a price I was more than willing to pay, especially since the payout was so great as to make it insignificant in the end.
XXX
Ten minutes after the battle started, it was over, the last Tech-Priest having been killed while their Servitors were cut to ribbons and were currently leaking bodily fluids all over the floor, dripping down to a deeper area of the ship, not that I really cared. With the battle done, The Collectors were busy gathering up everything of value, several of them working with Sentries to pick up the tanks of fuel and drag them back to my Walkers even as I considered what to do with them.
The short lived battle had already provided a wealth of data to refine the CQC programming for my units, certainly, it had offered dozens of other improvements that were already being added to the incremental improvements made by the various sub-processes in use. Some of those added new techniques and altered existing attacks to be more skilled, more effective and more potent, based on the observations of the battle from multiple angles. Even then, even without considering all that, I still had the corpses of the Tech-Priests themselves, each of which would offer a wealth of knowledge in turn, if I could access it, and assuming that they hadn't deleted it upon their deaths. If they had, then that would make things a bit more difficult for me, but I could work with that, working back to first principles before moving onwards once more, time consuming, but not difficult, especially with the amount of processing power I was throwing around, especially as I brought a new walker online, making it so that I currently had eleven of the massive machines.
However, this one was different.
Walker eleven wasn't designed to focus on manufacturing units or items, rather, it was designed with the express purpose of researching anything of interest that I might find. Indeed, three of the four Fabricator bays had been removed and replaced with internal server farms, a medical bay designed to hold both willing and unwilling subjects for operations, and a storage bay that was designed to have a fully adaptable floor plan that could be changed with internal Fabricators. The whole point of the thing was to be able to hold live captives long enough to study them, before moving on to carry out other experiments.
Or turn them into Amalgam, since I had decided to stick with the theme of the 'I am Legion' supplement, which meant that I was giving serious thought to the idea of cybernetically augmented, mindless murder machines of varying abilities, quality and quantity.
However, the thought of that did make me pause, the idea of actually doing it suddenly making me think about the moral ramifications, not to mention the simple fact that people were now dead because of me. I had ordered a dozen men killed and had watched it without even a trace of disgust or regret. Instead... Instead I felt calm, satisfied that the battle had gone in my favor, and happy that the end result had given me so much for so little a price, relatively. A moment of consideration was allotted to this mystery, since I knew that, as a Human mind that had effectively been turned into an Infomorph, I should have felt something.
Remembering the message that had appeared after my freak-out, I decided it was time to check what was meant by 'Factory Baseline'. Hell, even some of the things I was planning as I considered the casual dissection of what had been another Human being should have had me feeling disgust and remorse. It should had me feeling something instead of just the same, almost Zen-like, calm or other emotions that tilted towards positive reactions. Feeling satisfied when a battle was over and I was the victor, annoyance at the Tech-Priests not dying fast enough, joy when a new update to software for my units worked better than expected. It should have all made me hysterical with panic, disgust and regret, but it didn't...
Looking through my internal systems for an explanation, I quickly found what I was looking for and felt myself pause, every machine across my network paused for a nanosecond, even as my perception of time picked up to cover the mistake. My units continued to their pre-assigned locations, readying for the next attack even as I checked with the Collectors I had designated as watchmen. Through their mechanical eyes, I saw the Tech-Priests already moving, locking down access portals and reinforcing any entryway that they had, even welding several secondary entryways shut in an attempt to seal me out.
Pushing down on my moment of introspection, I made a note to look into it more thoroughly at a later time while making another note to look into any Vox equipment I could find, especially since I might need it later down the line. Knowing how to intercept, jam or send Vox transmissions could certainly help me, especially since I knew that a fair number of factions used it, though, I was honestly half tempted to see about what my Research Walker picked up with its own expanded sensor array. Still, that was a while off yet, and I still had these Tech-Priests to deal with. As such, I started sending out orders as my Sentries moved into position, Collectors that had already slipped into the mess of a base had mapped out most of the location and gave me a good view of what I was looking at.
The area itself was, quite possibly, a section of the engines of the once-proud and working vessel. In the centre of the chamber, I saw the humming generator that likely powered what little of the ship still had the proper connections. The Plasma Reactor brimmed with power as I watched it with interest, a thing of beauty that I fully intended to take apart at some point, even then, I noted the Skitarii, the Tech-Priests and the Enginseers all gathering, Servitors rapidly moving into positions and lining up in a mob facing every entryway they knew of. They were fully prepared to try to drown me in numbers, something that I understood, but found slightly amusing since I wasn't as restricted by numbers as they were. Already, Sentries started picking entry points and selecting the appropriate ammo as their Rail guns altered their barrels, growing wider as a projectile left the barrels and impacted the not-so-distant walls. Once attached, the devices waited for the signal as I waited for another force to arrive and take up position.
In truth, the vast majority of my forces were already in position, what I was doing now, however, was putting on a show for the Adepts of the Admech.
Almost as one, the Tech-Priests stood straight, weapons drawn as Servo-Arms and Mechadendrites uncoiled from under dirty cloaks and robes. Most only had a few, but I noted a few of the more heavily cyberdised members of the gathered Tech-Priests had a greater number than others. I made a note to subdue them and try to bring them in alive, if possible, my Collectors weren't calibrated to stun someone, but they could flash fry a person with the electrical discharges from their tendrils. I didn't want to go down that route, but I made a note to have a dozen processes at the ready, giving orders that certain marked individuals would be held down long enough for the Collectors to interface with them, hopefully allowing me to get in their heads and disable them, something I was confident could be done, since my capacity for E-warfare was still, surprisingly, intact.
Still, the Tech-Priests readied themselves as they heard, and probably saw the weapons discharging outside their gates, hordes of Sentries and swarms of Collectors sprinting down the corridors that lead to them, seemingly absorbing losses to gain distance even as said losses disappeared under a tide of metal. Once within line of sight, weapons were fired as turrets mounting Plasma cannons, Lascannons and even a few with heavy Bolters started firing. My own forces returned fire, unable to dodge most of the incoming fire, but some managed to do so, using their inbuilt thrusters to get closer as one such Sentry vaulted over the rest, using the corpse of one of the fallen as a shield in order to soak up damage. Immediately, I watched with interest as the machine threw the corpse away, directly at one of the turrets as it fired at another and cut down a third with a Banshee Blade. The one hit by the corpse was knocked off target while the other two were blown apart and cut in half, respectively, their killer, however, wasn't able to celebrate for long as another turret quickly killed that particular Sentry. I made a note to increase the amount of processes allocated for path finding, especially if they could come up with that kind of quick thinking for reaching a target.
Quickly, these defensive turrets were overwhelmed and destroyed, all the main entry points were secured with every other point being observed by a few Collectors hiding behind pipes. With them surrounded, I started the next stage of my plan as the front ranks around each of the heavily fortified gates began to lift their arms. Their Rail guns altered as Collectors came forwards as well, Particle beams unfolding as they fired at the Blastdoor, burning it as the Sentries started firing in turn, their Rail guns firing shells packed with corrosive acids, each one being considered, tested, then discarded if it was less effective than another. The melted slag of the door was collected for research, along with several chips and samples, but the work continued in alternating patterns of heat and cooling acid, releasing toxic vapors that bothered neither side as the thick doors were slowly eroded away.
It was interesting to watch, and certainly, it added an element of terror to the equation as the Tech-Priests watched and waited for the door to come down. Cyborgs they may be, but they were still Human in one respect or another, fear was a part of the Human condition, as it served the purpose of self-preservation. Then again, these guys were fanatics, so I had no idea about just how effective such things were.
Regardless, the moment a hole appeared in the remains of the door, the Tech-Priests made themselves known.
Immediately, as soon as any significant gap appeared in any of the armored Blast Doors, the various Tech-Priests started firing, those Servitors armed with weapons started firing, and the few Skitarii that were present started firing as well. Bullets, lasers, Plasma and dozens of other energy bolts from other more exotic weapons came flying through the ruined portal as my units worked to both return fire and expand the openings. The bottle necks created by these insanely tough entryways were enough to ensure that my forces would be funneled into well-prepared, well-fortified, and extremely well-manned kill zones. A few Collectors managed to get through, but they were instantly assaulted by dozens of Servitors armed with claws and chainsaws. Sentries were little better, their stronger armor and agility allowed them to get in, but surviving for any length of time under that amount of firepower wasn't something they could do.
Still, they didn't need to survive, just draw attention, and it was something they had done perfectly as I sent the signal for my other units to begin their own assault.
Around the vast series of chambers, Power fields suddenly sprung to life in to form intense, yet short-lived, light shows as the material that made up both the walls and the generators of these Power Fields was rapidly broken down into little more than dust. The design for the devices was simplistic, if rather crude, but it was good enough for the moment, certainly, it was good enough for me to use, though, extremely expensive in terms of both Mass and Energy, something to keep in mind for the future. Still, the sudden shock of so many openings appearing in walls, ceilings and even the floor around the area was enough to tip the scale. Tech-Priests spun around to face new attacks that dropped down on them from above, many Servitors being crushed under the heels of Sentries or simply knocked to the ground as Banshee Blades spun up and their whine filled the air.
Collectors swarmed out of every hole and made themselves known even as the Enginseers desperately tried to redistribute themselves into a better formation. The Skitarii within this mess made themselves known, mostly composed of Rangers, but there were a few Ruststalkers mixed in as well, using their agility to get in and out of reach while slicing apart multiple machines. Even then, they still suffered losses as they threw Servitors at me in a desperate attempt to buy time by trading bodies for time. I allowed myself a moment of amusement as I recognized the reversal of positions, where I had traded distance with bodies, they traded time with bodies.
It was an interesting thing to watch.
Still, the battle needed to end. Combat was getting too close to the Plasma Reactor and I was having to waste time to secure several of the Tech-Priests I had marked down for capture. More reinforcements flooded in to speed up the process, but the Tech-Priests weren't taking it without a fight as I hacked away at limbs, artificial or otherwise, before cocooning them in layers of nanotube webbing. Looking over the list of successful captures, I felt satisfaction at the attack going so well even as I glanced over at the target that I wanted the most, a giant of metal that stood back and launched attacks from a dozen mechanical limbs as they watched. Said target was slowly backing away, a burst of what sounded like white noise causing several others to cover him as he backed away from the firing point that he had chosen, turning around and making a run for a control station that stood back from that location.
Immediately, I saw where the control station was... And noted that it was right next to the Plasma Reactor...
Yeah... That wasn't happening. With a thought, several dozen Collectors and another dozen Sentries detached from the main battlefield, acting as a spear tip that pushed deeper as, from the area above, more holes appeared through the ceiling as more units dropped in. Their target was already known to them as they lined up the shots needed with their Rail guns as thrusters fired to push them towards said target faster.
The target in question was barely three metres from the console before their legs were blasted off at the knees, followed by being swarmed by Collectors and Sentries as they tried to fight back, losing limbs and scrambling to try and reach the console with any limb they still had. Something I didn't allow as limbs were ripped off, cut off, or shredded by Banshee blades. Even so, The Collectors worked rapidly to cocoon the target as numerous tendrils worked to find a connection port that could be used, dozens were found, and just as many were exploited as connections were made and I smashed down on the firewalls beyond with the force of a battering ram, shaking them rapidly as I brought more processing power to the task, as I was with several other Tech-Priests.
Quickly, as more and more of my forces flooded the chamber, the Tech-Priests fought more desperately, but they still lost. The moment that it became a numbers game, I had won, especially when they had given me the initiative by remaining behind their Blast Doors.
Absentmindedly, I sent out orders to the surviving units that weren't busy mopping up the rest of the survivors, gathering the shinnies or killing off any non-marked targets, to go and search the rest of the chamber, their orders were to look for anyone else that might be present... And to kill them. I couldn't afford any more distractions, especially as I turned my attention to my prize, directing a large amount of processes towards the being as I cracked through firewall after firewall to reach the augmented mind beyond. The increasingly desperate and frantic defense crumbling even as I allowed myself to mentally smile at that.
It was all just a matter of time...
XXX
Magos Errant Neta Alkins was currently regretting a great many of the decisions that she had made up to this moment in time, especially as she shifted fire, spraying down another dozen armored beings with purifying Plasma to prevent them from flanking one of her few remaining comrades. Even then, the beings responded with surprising skill and grace, avoiding a number of the globs of Plasma with only two of them suffering anything beyond minor cosmetic damage.
Sure, looking back, a lot of her decisions made sense, but the benefit of hindsight changed that.
Signing on with a Rogue Trader had been a gamble, even one sponsored by a Forge World, especially since he was interested in those with experience in a number of areas to enhance his business. Namely, genetics and Warp-tech, the latter of which should have been her first clue, but hadn't been, since she had been too interested in the proposal that he had offered. The idea of making a new pattern of Warp drive that was to be faster, safer and more efficient than any other model. A tall order, but one that was challenge enough to attract the attention of dozens, such as herself, as they got to work creating something beautiful in the name of the Machine God. Work had moved quickly as they created prototypes, tested them, documented the results, made more prototypes and then tested them some more. Eventually, after nearly half a century, they had come to the end result of their work.
Impressed with their work, he had ordered the drive installed in his flagship and for all of them to be present to witness the fruits of their labor. Another mistake, one caused by being too blinded by pride and confidence that nothing would go wrong. They were punished by the Omnissiah for that when the Gellar Field generator had failed half-way through the Warp transit, resulting in the ship suddenly being swarmed by Neverborn. Another mistake on her part, not demanding to inspect the ship to ensure that it met the needed criteria to handle the new Warp Drive, especially since the previous one was already taxing the heavily modified energy conduits to capacity.
Thankfully, in all the madness, both the Rogue Trader and the more idiotic of the Trader's crew had been wiped out as those that survived banded together to stay alive. The menials and ratings were quickly wiped out, but those that remained were mostly of the Mechanicus, along with their Servitors and a few Skitarii bodyguards. From there, it had been a running battle to secure the Generatorium for themselves and reignite it before they were overrun even further. Many were lost in order to secure both the Gellar Field generator and the Generatorium, along with enough promethium to keep it running, but it was a near thing, especially when it was discovered that the pipes leading between the Promethium tanks and the Generatorium were rusted almost completely through.
Another mistake, one that cost them precious Promethium that spilled out from the pipes before they could clean it up, causing them to use an ad hoc method of transporting fuel with metal containers carried by Servitors and guarded by a few Skitarii. Something that could have been avoided if she, or any of them, had taken the time to merely sit down and look over the maintenance reports, many of them merely stating that the ship was still 'good enough' for another transition.
And now, eight years later, even as she blasted another of these strange invaders apart with focused Las-fire, she felt her augmented body sag slightly with the weight of her mistakes as she commanded her forces through their Vox implants. Absently, she wondered if she had made the right call to bunker down, even as the obvious conclusion of such an action happened around her, shaking her head, she realized that such was the only action she could have taken, especially given what they faced. Coordinated fire was their only saving grace, as they beat back tides of insect-machines while those with heavier weapons fired upon the armored beings that lead the charge. Even then, they were still losing this engagement as their opponents seemed to offer no care for their fallen, even using them as shields to allow themselves to get closer. Their armor was potent stuff, easily on par with some lower-quality Power Armor, but not Astartes-grade armor. Their weapons, however, were a curious mix of a highly advanced Chain blade mounted on one forearm and some kind of mass driver that straddled the line between Stubcarbine, Bolter and Tau Railgun. Interesting enough, but not something she could really look into while fighting for her life.
"Omnissiah dammit!" The Magos Errant cursed in Binary, stabbing another insect-machine with a dozen Mechadendrites, spearing through it with miniature Power blades as she fired into the approaching horde. Had she still had a fully organic face, the Magos knew that she would be grimacing at the prospect before her, especially as she saw a few more of her comrades being swarmed by the smaller machines, Servitors being ripped apart, however, something caught her eye as she watched the machines work through a sub-optic on one of her Servo-Arms. The Mecha-insects were swarming over the Tech-Priest in question, an Artisan, and were cutting off limbs as they punched through the swarming mass. Through the tangle of limbs, the Magos watched as the limbless body was wrapped in some kind of black webbing and pulled away, a dozen tendrils from various Mecha-insects connecting to the poor man even as she saw the mass pull back even as the Vox signal of the Priest disappeared from the Noosphere of their group.
Magos Alkins almost paused in her firing, sudden realization coming to her as the horde drew ever closer.
"In the Name of the Machine God, we must smite these Vermin! They seek not only to kill us and claim the gifts of the Omnissiah for themselves, but to take the knowledge He has gifted us from our being!" Righteous anger swelled within all present as they diverted fire and started picking targets with renewed vigor, screaming Binary war-chants and declarations of hate and rage to these beings that would dare to try and steal their secrets from the Church of the Machine.
Pausing for a moment, the Magos considered the situation in a nanosecond before allowing another mental grimace to flicker through her. The situation was grim, and they would die soon enough, either by concentration of firepower, or from being stripped down to nothing by the Data-scavengers that abseiled their position. Considering her position carefully, she allowed a glance at the massive reactor behind her position, its power being the only thing holding back the tide of the Immaterium, preventing Neverborn from swarming them and consuming them whole. She considered shutting down the Gellar Field itself, but that would take too long, the rituals needed were long and complex, usually needing multiple skilled Tech-Priests to do in a reasonable timeframe, and not something one did in a hurry, especially in the Warp. With that thought, she allowed a nod to escape as she turned to her fellows, all standing firm in their convictions to not go down without a fight.
"Hold fast, Followers of the Omnissiah, for we may not have this day, but we may yet deny these Data-Scavenging pieces of filth from taking what is not theirs to take! Hold the line, and we shall ensure that they suffer the same fate that almost befell us all!" Magos Neta declared as she turned around and left, affirmations reaching her through the Noosphere as grim acceptance came with it, they all knew they were going to die, and die rather horrifically at that, but it was better to die for what you believe in, then live for yourself.
Moving quickly, the Magos charged from cover, her Shields having long since been depleted and remained as such, as the continual assault had burned out several components within the device, making it almost useless as she moved. Neta could feel the grim satisfaction as she reached within metres of the terminal, almost there, and felt vindication for the horrible existence that these fools were about to experience as she came within less than three metres of the terminal. Then those feelings were replaced...
Shock and horror filled her as her augments compensated, pain was reduced to nothing as numbness filled her legs as damage reports flashed through her mind, her body airborne for a moment as momentum carried it onwards for a moment before it impacted the ground. The impact was jarring as the organic parts of her brain tried to register what had happened even as she looked up to see the remains of both her legs laying some distance away. She looked further to see her last few comrades being swarmed with more Mecha-insects and armored soldiers as she heard the sound of familiar thrusters firing. Looking up, she felt dread as she looked and saw the descending horde of machines, their target was obvious as they headed for her. Immediately, she snapped back to reality as she flipped around, deploying her limbs as she tried to crawl closer to the console, to deactivate the Reactor that would send them all spiraling into a doomed existence within the Warp.
The soldiers were on her within an instant, the machines following behind as any limb she tried to move with or reach out with, towards the console, was snapped of cut or severed with a Chain blade. The Mecha-insects crawled over her, their tendrils moving as they bound her form, trying to constrain her limbs even as she flailed around, trying to prevent it. The stumps of limbs were grasped by tendrils and pulled tight against her body, webbing following even as the Magos struggled against it, trying to free herself even as the webbing refused to be moved by her augmented strength. This continued as her desperation grew, only assisted when she felt connections forming as data-ports were interfaced with by the machines that assaulted her. She felt something beyond those connections that came flooding into her. Her desperation and dread reached the breaking point, no longer remembering her previous objective as firewalls were torn down and she felt this... This... This Leviathan stalking deeper within her mind as it touched everything within her data-archives and memory banks.
Nothing was left untouched even as more connections were formed, her physical body bound ever tighter until she couldn't even move a single muscle or servo, even what few limbs she had remaining were incapacitated. Still, she felt dread and mortal terror, her body only kept in control by her augments as the thing crawling through her mind finally reached the base code protocols that held her being, her essence, what made her who and what she was, even as it spread through her augments and poked at the fleshy brain connected to them. It was terrifying, as she knew that this being now held her life squarely in its hands and it knew it, and that she could do nothing about it.
With those thoughts, Magos Errant Neta Alkins heard a whispered voice that resonated throughout her mind, her code and her very being.
Sleep, Magos Errant. Sleep and awaken when called.
The command was absolute, with nothing being possible for Alkins to do to change it. Her very being betrayed her as unconsciousness crept into the corners of her vision, augments slowly powering down as her body relaxed into it's cocoon. Had she still had tear ducts, she would have been crying and sobbing at what she knew awaited her, even in the face of the enemy of the Mechanicus, even as she looked up into the white, glowing visor of one of the soldiers that had captured her, that had butchered her comrades and taken a few others as captives.
That was the last sight she saw as the mechanical scorpions crawled over her body, spreading more webbing as the black silk coated her face, smothering her optics, before unconsciousness claimed her at last.
Magos Errant Neta Alkins prayed that she would never wake again...
XXX
AN: Ok, so there you have it, second chapter up and running, so, hope you all enjoyed that and, as always, feel free to leave comments and feedback./QUOTE]