Chapter 9.5 – Sacred Mars, Lost Mars
"Shall I begin the Canticle, Acting Fabricator General?"
Acting Fabricator General Trimejia Diadanei paused, lost in thought for a moment. This would be a time when thanks would be given to Sacred Mars and the spirit of the Omnisiah. But Mars was gone. It did not seem appropriate. To perform it would feel… distasteful, to use a Terran expression of emotion. Something new was required. Something that reflected the new truth.
"No, Upsilon-Two-Five-Seven-Nine. We shall architect a new Canticle."
"I this… permitted?" asked Upsilon 2579, nervously canting in binaric.
"Sacred Mars is beyond our reach," replied Trimejia, "She is lost. We need to reflect our prayers as such. We shall transcribe a new canticle into the ages. Sacred Mars. Lost Mars."
"Sacred Mars. Lost Mars," repeated Upsilon 2579.
"Go now. The canticle will take some time to design. I wish for some time to complete it," canted Trimejia.
"As you wish, Acting Fabricator General."
"Drop the Acting from my designation," snapped Trimejia, "Fabricator General Kane is Lost, along with Mars. I am the leader of the Martian Parliament. I am the Omnisiah's Voice, his sole representative amongst what remains of our people. From now on I make decisions about the future of our Faith."
"As you say, Fabricator General," canted Upsilon 2579 as it made a hasty retreat.
Trumejia emitted what most humans would consider a sigh, and stared at the holographic projection on the desk of the former Martian home world. It was the last recording taken of Mars before the departure, a piece of history preserved in time.
"Sacred Mars… Lost Mars…" muttered Trimejia.
"Acting Fabricator General, may I beg a moment of your time."
Trimejia looked up to see the face of Mortarion, the Death Guard Primarch with his usual impenetrable scowl and unenthused demeanor. Whilst many of the Terrans for his presence disquieting, those of the Cult Mechanicus had no problem with the Pale King's somber aura.
"Of course, Lord Mortarion. You are always welcome here," said Trimejia in High Gothic, remembering that the Pale King had requested her audience earlier, "How may the Cult Mechanicus assist you?"
"It is more of how I may be of assistance to you," replied Mortarion, "I see the loss of your world weighs heavy on your people."
"It does…" said Trimejia in a mournful cant, "The Omnisiah promises that one day we shall return to Sacred Mars, but there is a part of me that can read his meta-data to suggest that there is a good chance Mars is lost forever."
"Given my knowledge of the sorceries of Magnus I would not be surprised if it remains beyond reach for many eons," growled Mortarion.
"We will need to find a suitable Forge World to replace Mars for the Parliament until such time the Sacred World is retaken," canted Trimejia, "Our concern is the conflict that could break out when a Forge World is chosen. If it is one of the major Forge Worlds the others will feel slighted at the lack of honour. If it is a minor world, all the great Forges will be offended. It is my first and greatest challenge, to hold the Martian people together."
"What you need is a world that all will equally respect," noted Mortarion, "One perhaps that is not yet even a Forge World."
"That would be so," nodded Trimejia, "But where would I find such a world? To choose one without any significance within the Imperium or Cult Mechanicus would result in my own legitimacy being challenged for such a radical suggestion."
"Make it Barbarus."
"What?" blurted the Acting Fabricator General.
"Make it Barbarus," repeated Mortarion, "Your predecessor promised me a Forge on Barbarus. It is the home of a Primarch, a world of which deserves to hold a position of high honour within the Imperium. With the Cult Mechanicus based out of Barbarus you shall find no conflict between your Forge Worlds, lest the Death Guard remind them to whom they owe loyalty."
"That… that would be an honour My Lord," stuttered Trimejia, "This would indeed solve our crisis. Would you be willing to address the Martian Parliament tomorrow to confirm this proposal?"
"Of course," replied Mortarion, "The keepers of humanity's technological mastery must not be wanting for a home. Together we shall produce the weapons that defend our kind from the Witch, the Xenos, and the Traitor. There shall be no foe that cannot be defeated by our unity."
"Then let it be so," agreed Trimejia, "I shall prepare for the gathering."
The next day the surviving members of the Martian Parliament gathered about the Ark Mechanicus class warship the Ark Majesty, in a room that had been hastily converted into an assembly room for the purposes of hosting the Parliament.
In the speaker's chair sat Acting Fabricator General Trimejia. To her right, stood Mortarion. As the Martian Parliamentarians gathered in to take their seats, Trimejia banged the ceremonial gavel to bring Parliament to order.
"By the will of the Omnisiah and the Cult Mechanicus, I call the present assembly to order!" canted Trimejia.
The noise of buzzing binaric cant continued despite this. Mortarion narrowed his eyes at the display of disobedience.
"ORDER! ORDER!" buzzed Trimejia, banging the gavel of the speaker against the makeshift table before her.
This appeared to do the trick. The buzzing settled and the various Magos and Tech Priests took their places in silence.
"This assembly is so call on the purposes for establishing new precedent following the loss Sacred Mars to the abominable traitors known as the so called 'Nikaean Rebels'," began Trimejia.
"Sacred Mars," canted the entire room in response.
"It should be Forge World Graia!" came a shout from the benches.
"Denied:Inferior Construct. Allocated-Primary-Forge-Word = Ryza," came another cant.
Trimejia banged the gavel several more times until the yelling stopped.
"To this end, we-" began Trimejia.
The doors swung open, and in walked a figure clad in gold. Buzz akin to gasps echoed around the room as the Emperor approached the central floor of the assembly. Mortarion simply watched as his Father single-handedly pulled every pair of eyes, visual sensors and other observational devices to focus on the Avatar of the Omnisiah.
"I, Omnisiah of the Cult Mechanicus, hereby do observe the proceedings of this Parliament. Let none who worship the Omnisiah in all its glory question or deny the precedents set here today, so sayth the Omnisiah. Glory to Sacred Mars."
"Sacred Mars," canted the entire room in response.
Trimejia hastily got down from the Speaker's chair, as the Emperor approached. Much like the ascension to any such throne, the Emperor took his seat in full view of the Martian Parliament. Mortarion gave his Father a nod which replaced the bow that would have taken otherwise.
Trimejia, now in the centre of the assembly, began again.
"To this end, we have asked the Lord Primarch Mortarion here to discuss a proposal that will resolve our issues on this matter. Know that as Fabricator General-"
"ACTING Fabricator General!" canted a heckled yell.
"The Speaker is recognized by the authority of the Omnisiah to be Fabricator General," spoke the Emperor in a voice that silenced all in the room, "Fabricator General Zagreus Kane was a great and noble scion of Mars, but he gave his life to continue the evacuations until the last moment. He sacrificed himself so that the children of Mars might live. Honour and remember his sacrifice, but recognize his Chosen Successor. Fabricator General Trimejia Diadanei is the Fabricator General, with all the respect and recognition that such a position demands. So sayth the Omnisiah. Glory to Sacred Mars."
"Sacred Mars," canted the entire room in response.
"Thank you, My Lord," bowed Trimejia. The Emperor's intervention made this entire ordeal much easier, "Know as Fabricator General I hear by fully endorse and support the proposal of the Lord Mortarion, and after his resolution has been set out we shall hold an immediate vote. Glory to Sacred Mars."
"Sacred Mars," canted the entire room in response.
Mortarion now approached the centre of the assembly. Trimejia retreated a few steps towards the most friendly benches available. The Lord of the Death Guard took in the assembly, hundreds of mechanically enhanced humans hanging on his every word.
"Parliamentarians," he began, "Priests of the Cult Mechanicus. A great wrong has been done to you all. Sacred Mars, that world you held so dear, has been taken from you by the malicious forces of Magnus and the defilers of Nikaea!"
Murmurs of agreement echoed around the room.
"Much as they robbed the Imperium of Terra, so they have robbed YOU of Mars. Their vile witchery, sorcery of the most profane, has torn reality asunder. We must NOT LET THIS STAND."
A roar of agreement rose up from the benches. Mortarion paused to let the noise die back down.
"The warp is a dangerous and fickle force," he continued, returning to a softer tone, "Even if the forces of the Imperium had tenfold the warriors and ships we have now, we could not pull Mars from the immaterium back to its rightful place in the galaxy. There may be yet ways for us to restore both Terra and Mars back to us. But it will not be done tomorrow. Nor perhaps in a century, or even millennia. It will require tools that we do not yet possess, perhaps ancient archeotech from our past that remain buried somewhere within the Imperium. However together, the Death Guard and the Mechnicum, we shall find the tools to undo the witchery of the traitors AND BRING BACK WHAT HAS BEEN STOLEN FROM US!"
Another roar, this time some members rising to their feet.
"To this end," interrupted Mortarion, "To this end. I provide Barbarus as the seat of power for the Cult Mechanicus. This is not a time for division. We cannot have the Forge Worlds descend once more into anarchy whilst Sacred Mars remains lost! Make your new home on Barbarus, make the Martian Parliament its seat on my home, and know that no effort shall be spared to find what we require to take back what is ours. Do this, and know that when the Mechanicum marches forth once more to retake Sacred Mars, the warriors of the Death Guard WILL GO WITH YOU!"
A standing ovation. A chant of 'Sacred Barbarus' began from the more enthusiastic members which others began to pick up.
"Sacred Mars," responded Mortarion, bathing in the adulation, "Sacred Barbarus!"
Trimejia banged the gavel on a nearby bench to silence the cheers.
"We will take a vote," proclaimed the Fabricator General, "All those in favour, say Aye."
"AYE!" came a near unanimous cry.
"All those who oppose say nay."
Utter silence.
"The Ayes have it, the Ayes have it," repeated Trimejia, "Hence force the new seat of the Martian Parliament shall be founded on Sacred Barbarus."
"The Omnisiah sees this vote, and approves," said the Emperor, rising to stand, "Glory to Sacred Mars. Glory to Sacred Barbarus."
The golden figure descended from the chair, departing the assembly room once more to cheers and cries of 'For Sacred Mars! For Sacred Barbarus!'