"Oh, step toaster, How indecent!" Inside one of the many engineering bays was a rather interesting sight, that being a half dressed female Magos with ocular augments, her auburn hair cascaded down her back ending in light blue highlights having been undone earlier, a unique mutation, for she had been an orphan from one of the many hive cities, her robe halfway off tied around her waist.
The engineering bay has been set to a moodier atmosphere, with candles and incense dotted all along the bay itself. The Magos in question was Kuvera, the one personally chosen alongside four others by Louis to head most of his projects. With them reporting to Either Raskain or the Omnissiah himself. It was a rather cushy position. One that she loved dearly. Especially due to the certain perks that came with the job, such as access to ancient technology.
She was sitting at an altar with the toaster set up in front of her, with incense and oils surrounding it, to which the woman... vigorously applied to the metal of the appliance. This was her private time, one that she so seldom got in the past, But now with the Omnissiah taking charge, she was very happy to receive weekends off of manufacturing.
Slowly she rubbed her hand over the toaster, in a rather sensual motion, a giggle echoing from her. "Oh, you naughty machine spirit, you... never wanting to work properly." Slowly she reached up a hand to the lever, pushing down on it. "Don't worry, your mistress will take good, very good care of you!"
Her face went red with excitement as the lever popped up. "OH YOU SCOUNDREL!"
"So this is where one of your loyal tacticians is my liege….she is rather crass."
Kuvera stopped in her ministrations, slowly turning her head around to see Louis and Vigdis and the newly appointed Head General of the Royal Guard. Gaultier standing behind her, the man having a slight look of disgust on his face at what he witnessed, while the cube's holographic eye showed what basically attested to the vomiting emoji. Gaultier's helmeted eyes just glowed with slight mirth.
"O-o-omnissiah…. How long were you standing there?" A nervous giggle erupted from the Magos as she took a step away from the altar. She honestly thought she would be left alone for the rest of the day, She had even put the Do Not Disturb sign on the front of the hanger door.
"Long enough to know that you require intense mental therapy, but that is beside the point. I am simply here for the reports on progress with automation to the manufactorums on Mars and other planets under the control of the Mechanicus, and possible job placements for the lower-ranking techpriests."
Kuvera quickly ran over to his desk, looking over it for a moment, eventually finding the required paperwork. She gathered the stack of papers approaching the man, Louis gently took them from the woman. Before turning on his heel towards the entryway. Vigdis and Gaultier followed behind.
"For future reference... lock the door, just to avoid anymore incidents such as this." Louis spoke out, eventually leaving the engineering bay, Gaultier, and Vigdis in tow behind him as well. Kuvera Immediately ran to the door, pressing the lock button on the side. After calming her heart, she turned back to the toaster on the altar. "Now…where were we!"
Raskain considered himself a rather calm individual, especially when it came to dealing with the imperium. It was also rather nice to have a new body that allowed him to move properly. And even experience the sensations that... he missed. A gift from the Omnissiah. And a strong gift at that. Blue eyes, graying hair, and a rather sharp jawline were what greeted him after the surgery his lord performed on him. It was jarring, but he took it with stride. He really needed to discuss with his Omnissiah a new creed for the mechanicus.
But in this instance, his patience was being tested rather badly by the now revived second primarch. He knew that they were a mystery in personality, but yet this was something entirely new for the old fabricator general. Yet he found himself developing a routine with the second primarch, Having been the one to as his lord would put it. "Babysit" her for the last few months.
"Lady Ayla … You have been in your quarters for the past few days now." The sounds of what his Omnissiah spoke to him about being video games could be heard emanating from behind the closed door. Raskain lifted his hand, gently knocking on the door once more. He swore this was almost like dealing with a child.
"I refuse!"
A nine-foot-tall demigod of a child. The fabricator general let out an old…old sigh, He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the skin redden underneath due to the pressure, and lifted his left hand, pressing the unlock button on the side of the door. It opened to a darkened living space, Messy. And in the back of the room dressed rather imodestly, sat the Second Primarch. Her thumbs twiddling about on a controller as she let out a few curses out of annoyance at the screen.
Raskain moved his hand over to a lightswitch, flicking it on. This caused the room to immediately be bathed in a bright white light. The second primarch quickly threw the controller, it being sent through the wall past Raskain, hitting a unfortunate techpriest in the head, thankfully not killing the man. The primarch lifted her hands to cover her eyes from the light. "You petulant old man!, TURN THE LIGHT OFF!". The second primarch writhed around for a moment, and eventually uncovered her eyes blinking rapidly to get them used to the light.
Raskain simply looked on with amusement, He then approached, turning off the Holo Broadcaster. "You cannot hide from Lord guilliman forever, He and the Imperium need your assistance…" However, this was the wrong statement to make toward the Primarch. Ayla's face turned even more sour as she slowly got up from the floor, taking a seat on the bed.
The woman folded her arms, a look of annoyance on her face pointed directly at Raskain at the question, "Why should I... They stripped me away from every record and essentially killed my own sons—Geralt, Octavian—all of them gone. Why should I fight for them when all they have done is take, take, and take?"'
She leaned over, grabbing Another controller from atop the holo Broadcaster and booting up another game on it. "The Emperor considered us tools, yet my brother and I did not see it that way... and in the end I lost everything... even the person I could call father." Ayla turned her attention to the screen and spoke one last time towards the Fabricator general.
"Leave, old man... I do not wish to speak anymore."
There was a trembling that Raskain could hear from the Primarchs voice, as if she were on the verge of tears. He had seen the images from the Lost deathworld. The coffin, the armored individual sitting in front of it. Raskain felt….Empathy, Slowly He approached Ayla and sat down beside her, gazing at the screen and watching the character move about it.
Maybe it was time to use what the Omnissiah spoke of to them..
"I thought I told you to leave my-" Ayla stopped in her speech as the older man simply wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. For a moment she thought he was trying to attack her, yet his next words left her silent.
"I… apologize for trying to force this onto you. You are in tremendous pain, and I could not see it until now." Empathy...no ulterior motive to it. Something that Ayla thought was completely lost in this new age. Slowly the Primarch lifted her arms and went to push away the fabricator general, only for her arms to betray her, instead wrapping around the man. The controller long forgotten now.
She felt something leaking out of her eyes, and brushed them against the cloak that the man wore, her breathing felt quicker. Was she poisoned? A soft hiccuping warble left her voice. Memories of her legion, memories of her spending time with each of her sons, especially her chapter master Geralt. Memories of spending time with her adoptive father.
Eventually the Damn finally broke, from one final sentence from the Fabricator General.
"Let your emotions be free; I will not judge and instead be a shoulder for you to cry upon. That is a promise, On the Omnissiah himself."
Ayla weeped, bearing out the pain and loss that she experienced over the thousands of years. Clutching tightly onto the Fabricator general with strength that would have broken a normal man even that of a astartes. Yet the general was perfectly fine. And instead he simply sat and listened.
On that day, a bond was formed, one formed out of loss and heartbreak.