"The Aeldari, The Nephilimech, even the Orks at some ancient point. We know this through the knowledge we accrue, the research of eons of scholars. From the ruins of the Eldar worlds we demolish, to the war that took the Lord of the XVIIIth legion. The imperium brought to its knees by what we all assumed was a blundering fool Warboss, in line with all we believed about the Ork menace. Our ignorance was punished with the death of a demigod, our foolhardy beliefs presented to us a lesson that we dutifully ignored. As the ecclesiarchy demands of all unenlightened baseline humans. Though we tout our ascension to our machine bodies, how different are we?"

From, De rebus machinis et xenaritis. Written by Archmagos Battista Albrecht Ghetaldi, 348.M36

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819.M40

Hive worlds were known for the near Death Guard level smog that choked the lungs of every being that visited them, or had the displeasure of being trapped there. Those that were born there were no better off, but could take some slim amount of joy in the fact they didn't suffer in the same exaggerated manner as foreigners. A militarum brigade marched through the streets, in one of these squads a Commissar kept a weather eye out for trouble. In the preceding weeks, he'd been unfortunate enough to stumble across a secret that no one expected to see the light of public knowledge.

And yet, that is precisely what this commissar planned to do. This parade march, a formality to lend an air of power in front of the workers, would end at the governor's palace. There he could speak to the provincial ruler and the Commissar-general, tell them the heretical ritual he'd witnessed several of his men and other Commissars performing. A flagrant display of loyalty not to the glorious imperium, but the immaterium. He wanted to put each of the heathens down then and there but he was outgunned and outnumbered heavily. Better to bring this to the brass, and ensure their successful arrest of the traitors.

The parade came to an end in a vast courtyard, and the instant they were out of sight the Commissar gave a call of "at ease" before breaking from his squad. Leaving them to question where he was going, this wasn't on their schedule nor was it part of the planned route. But, obediently, they waited. The monolithic steps took ten entire minutes to ascend, but soon the Commissar shoved his way into the governor's foyer. Murmurs came from the room beyond this one, the Commissar-general and the governor enjoying a diplomatic meeting. Or a grand feast disguised as one, while the laborers scraped and starved every day.

He couldn't consider such inequalities right now, it was standard. The toil and struggle of life was how each showed their loyalty to the god-emperor, no one was safe from it. Or, most weren't at least. He was standing in the middle of a monument to the contrary, being side eyed by patrolling Adeptus Arbites guards. Though his rank gave him some small amount of freedom, they assumed there was some urgent news or missive that couldn't wait to get into the ranking commander's hands.

The Commissar pushed open the massive doors to a banquet hall, the conversation between his commander and the governor stopped. Dignitaries that surrounded the table all stopped their chatter and looked at the cause of the interruption. He stood at attention immediately and saluted, as was proper.

"Commissar-general, I have an urgent report. It cannot wait, it is a matter of dire consequences." The old guardsman stood, adjusted his dress coat, and saluted back. Holding out his hand expectantly, the Commissar handed over a written report of his findings. As the old man read, his expression hardened. He folded the missive up, and instead of handing it back he stashed it in his coat. The Commissar heard the doors lock tight behind him, and as he turned to look he felt the impact of a laspistol whipping across the back of his head.

Everything went hazy, sounds became distant and echoed in his disoriented state. He could make out some words, but not many full sentences as he laid on the floor.

"What do we do?" The governor asked in a hushed but hurried whisper.

"He knows too much, find those who he spotted and prepare them to be the next sacrifices. They're as much a loose end as he is now." Said the Commissar-general. The downed guardsman clawed his way across the plush carpet, but a boot slammed down on his back. Stopping his attempts at reaching the Arbites outside.

"No matter. We can at least stop the news from escaping for the time being." The Commissar-general said as he aimed his laspistol. "Sorry, son. You were a damn good soldier… Just had to stick your nose in the wrong dark corner…" In a blur, the Commissar lashed out with his combat knife. Cutting the commander's thigh, giving him just enough room to kick out and knock the old man over.

He was up in a flash, still disoriented but pulling out his own laspistol and sending a shot into the commander's shocked face. Blood sprayed out onto the floor, bone fragments and brain matter mixed into the viscera. Immediately, the Arbites smashed in the door and rushed for the Commissar. But they were too slow to stop the laspistol from raising at the Governor and blowing his head off next. The mix of adrenaline and panic meant the Commissar barely registered what it was he did. Before two heavily armored guards slammed into him. Tackling him to the floor, where he was mere inches away from the bloodied rose of viscera that his shot had left his former commander's head.

His hearing went numb again, he'd come here to stop heretics but had walked into the cult's headquarters. Corruption spread further than he'd ever imagined, so in his fugue state he defaulted to the one thing he'd been trained to do with ruthless efficiency. Kill anyone who shows signs of weakness, cowardice, or heresy. He was hauled to his feet, and clapped with restraints. They were talking to him, but he didn't register what they were saying. He saw the frightened gazes of the other dignitaries but he knew they were all profane liars.

He couldn't speak, all he could do was obey the manhandling by the Arbites. Yet, he heard something else. Yes, another thought was returning to him. The Machine Cult had been here with them, analyzing this planet's viability for a new manufactorum. They'd deemed it of key importance that this place be used to reinforce those who ventured into unknown space or outside of the barriers of imperial protection. He'd been so focused on his tasks for the initial survey and their public demonstration that he forgot the cult's presence briefly.

The sounds of metal marching entered the room, Skitarii flooded in and surrounded the dignitaries in their uncanny lockstep manner. The dignitaries raised hell, began shouting at the cybernetic soldiers. One even tried standing up and shoving a Skitarius aside. He was smashed in the face with the butt of a galvanic rifle for his troubles. The Arbites were shoved aside, but the Commissar wasn't released. He was instead now in the cult's custody. A wire covered figure strode into the room, mechadendrites flowed and coiled around him, servo skulls entered and began scanning every inch of the dining hall.

The tech-priest, a massive being of mostly metal, strode up to the Arbites, and slammed the bottom of his ornate axe into the ground. He stood a good three feet taller than the Arbites, looming over the enforcers without a single hint of emotion or motive. "Present unit, designation," a horrid shrill screech of garbled static emitted from an unseen vox, "initiating, menial protocols of communication. I am Magos Kai'sothus, my Sicarian teams discovered evidence of heretical worship on this world." The dignitaries were furious, shouting a mix of denials and insults at the magos. The Arbites paused, and without a word turned to the dignitaries present.

Unseen to the nobles, a flood of data was crossing their internal displays from their helmets. Picts and recordings of the rituals, sites of sacrifice and profane vandalism hailing the ruinous powers. With the evidence in their possession, they hesitantly raised their shotguns at the gathered people. Magos Kai'sothus shook his head, and two mechadendrites pierced into the Arbites' necks from behind, "All present human personnel are potentially compromised. Execute them all." The panicked screams of the dignitaries were cut off by the single crack of galvanic fire all in perfect synchronization. All laid dead in puddles of blood and brains, except for the Commissar that remained in the grip of the Skitarii.

The Magos approached and studied the Commissar, still in the throes of shock. "Spinal integrity compromised. Neurological damage present, this one is still guilty of murder without following the proper protocols. Take him, his redemption will come in the Omnissiah's crucible." The Commissar looked up weakly, trying to say anything to his defense. If they were guilty, why was he? In his mind, the steel clad obedience to protocol of the Adeptus Mechanicus made no sense. To his captors, it was simply a matter of fact. Soon, he was dragged away. Forced to watch as the guardsmen were analyzed in the courtyard. Some were released, some were executed on the spot by the Skitarii, and others were dragged away into armored transports for fates worse than death.

He, however, was taken elsewhere. Towards a shuttle beneath a ship bigger than the city he mere moments ago marched through. There, aboard Iudex Galvanic, the Magos had promised he'd find whatever the Mechanicus viewed as redemption. He slept for a long time, kept in a form of stasis, barely on the edge of life and death. In many ways, the man that rose from his critical state was someone else, someone entirely different. This new man marched on steel legs towards a sorting chamber, where a cold eyed secutor gazed at him uncaringly.

"Redemption is at hand, designation Vanguard Alpha β under command of Magos Dominus Kai'sothus. Glory to the Omnissiah."

Scylia Vardyn had served with the 118th regiment for years, among her comrades and fellow Primaris Psykers she'd seen the best and worst the galaxy had to offer. This, she decided, was going in the worst category. She'd briefly spotted a Commissar marching up the stairs to the governor's palace and something deep within her knew that was a predecessor for trouble. Her fears were confirmed now, as she watched four other Primaris Psykers were put to their knees and gunned down like diseased vermin.

She heard chatter across their vox, and through the brief bits she could understand past the machine language she heard a brief troubling mention that all Psykers in the regiment were to be eliminated due to nearby cult activity. The nerve, she'd done nothing of the sort! She crept back from the wall, and tried to drown out the sounds of energy weapons tearing apart her allies.

As she dashed through the smog filled streets, shoving past civilians who filtered down the road to investigate the sounds of slaughter, she rounded a corner and all but slammed into… An astartes? She looked up, and saw the teal blue of a legion she unfortunately recognized. The pale green hydra glinted in the electric light of the alleyway. She turned around to run, but heard the approach of the Adeptus Mechanicus. They likely knew there was one Psyker missing from their kill list. The Astartes leveled a boltgun to her head,

"Scream, and I'll ensure the next obnoxiously loud sound is your demise."

027.M42

"... Scylia"

There was no response.

"Scylia!" The Psyker was brought back to her senses, "Yes? Lord Telemateus?"

"Prepare your agents, I suspect our efforts to force the New Mechanicum's hands were successful." Scylia nodded, "Agreed, my Lord. Hence I took the liberty of laying a trap of my own for them. Lord Elatus is in position, as soon as they make a move we will be ready to drop on them like a crashing tide." Behind them, Vaelith scoffed.

"Why not just destroy them now?" Telemateus glanced back, and even through his helmet Scylia could tell he was unamused by the Daemon's interruption of their conversation. "If we don't play this carefully and determine who of the Mechanicum is still loyal to us then we will be adrift in space with no one to run the vessel! Think ahead for once, monster." Vaelith rolled their eyes, daemonhood had granted them immense power though accidental enslavement to Telemateus via their true name did nothing to stem their immense ego.

"My Lord," Scylia asked, "Once we track down Obsidian Whisper… What will we do with that information?"

"Only then will we destroy them." Telemateus answered flatly, "They know too much about us, our plans, our location, our hideouts, even the location of The Unseen. Should they survive, they could use that information for any number of acts against us."

"Is it not possible they simply went off on their course and have no such intent?" The door to Telemateus' chamber opened with a hiss, "It is possible, but it's not worth the risk. Such a lingering connection will always pose a risk we cannot abide. Vaelith, get to work. I want answers before we leave."

Vaelith bowed in a very over the top, highly sarcastic manner. "As you command, oh snakelike one." There was a certain amount of hateful venom on their forked tongue, but they regardless obeyed and dipped into the shadows of the chamber to disappear into the Ship's guts.

"I can't for the life of me believe you trust that… Thing." Scylia said.

"I don't, I trust their adherence to their true name though. At all times Vaelith schemes against us, they seek an opportunity they'll never find."

"It makes me seasick just thinking about the possible day they break loose." Scylia crossed her arms in a self comforting gesture. Telemateus began to pour over his collected books and documents, "Come, we have a lot of research to do before we transfer into the warp. The more we can learn before we make the jump the better prepared we'll be for whatever Tricks the Mechanicum has in store."

Within the heart of Deception's Venom a Dark ritual was being conducted. Black robed acolytes surrounded the warp drive, chanting heinous prayers and preparing their next moves. Their twisted Skitarii surrounded the drive, and leveled their weapons at it. They'd prepared for this, the finishing blow that would secure their master's plans and initiate the next phase.

Their orders were simple, break the Shrouded Basilisks apart and bring key individuals to their main base. Many in the fleet would die, most of the ships would be lost. Such a price was nothing compared to their intended goals. A priest covered in heretical glyphs and heretek machinery approached the warp drive, they needed to be precise. Damage the warp drive just enough to prevent the ship from making any extra jumps into the warp. Once at the manufactorum, Deception's Venom would be stranded there. A small flurry of gunfire shredded several parts of the machine, it stung the priest to desecrate such a beautiful machine but this was the will of his master. A metal hand shot up, and the Skitarii stopped. Now, they had one last piece to put into place. The death of their Navigator.

The Dark Mechanicum marched off, finding their way to the Navigator oddly unimpeded. And when they entered the Navigator's room he was absent. "Search everywhere! We must not be delayed!" Roared the dark priest, "You!" He pointed at an Ogryn servitor, "I want the bridge controls destroyed now! Kill anyone you see!" The Ogryn did nothing, "Are you listening to me you errant fool?! Obey my commands!" The Ogryn spoke, but no sound escaped their lips. A voice module malfunction, the priest sighed and approached to inspect the cause of the problem. A steel grip grabbed the priest's neck immediately. The dead vacant look in the Ogryn's eyes vanished immediately, and he finally spoke.

"Hydra Dominatus…"

The Priest's neck cracked with the sound of rent metal, Eltaus cast the fake prosthetics aside. The Dark Mechanicum scurried to retaliate and gun him down. Though around the room, chameleonic fields shimmered and dropped, leaving the cyborgs in a killing zone surrounded by Astartes. Their binharic shrieks were cut off by a hail of boltshells. Elatus finished throwing off the remnants of his disguise, while his own illusory grid shimmered. Leaving him back in his armor.

His vox clicked, as he was hailed. "Elatus! The Dark Mechanicum have struck as predicted! We're under siege by their forces! We have neither the manpower nor armaments to hold them back forever!"

"Hold fast, we've successfully prevented their assassination of our Navigator. The next stage of the plan should take hold soon. Hydra Dominatus."

"I hope you're right, Hydra Dominatus brother." Before the vox clicked off, Elatus could hear the mangled battlecry of their Master of Executions running into the fray. They didn't have long, and there was no telling what was happening on other ships in the fleet. He tried hailing another vessel, but was met with immense neurostatic interference. Somewhere the Dark Mechanicum had their mockery of Sicarians jamming communications, something he'd have to handle when time was more abundant.

"At least we have short range comms… That means the interference isn't on our ship." Elatus glanced back at his men, "Follow me, keep a low profile. We must strike at the heart of this insurrection and find any Mechanicum loyal to us. We'll need their help, I suspect anyone that would not agree to this plot is dead or locked away." The Legionnaires saluted and followed their Chaos Lord back into the ship's winding corridors.

The steel march of Dark Mechanicum Skitarii echoed in the winding halls towards the Hangar. Should they be able to conquer that, they'd have effective control of the entire fleet. With the ability to send reinforcements to their other conspiratorial brethren on other ships. With other craft at their disposal they could crush what little resistance the flat footed Alpha Legion would bring against them. Their secutor brought them to a pause, something was wrong. They'd been down this hallway before, their scanners were certain.

Ink spilled across the hallway's ends, and they found themselves lost in a way unbefitting any Mechanicum member. The secutor ran simulations and calculations as fast as they could. This didn't match any map of the ship they had access to. From behind, an inky monster lunged from the ship's darkened halls. It grabbed a Skitarii by the leg, and dragged them shrieking into the inky black. Their shots did nothing but leave holes in the creature, and they heard the crunch of metal and bone mix with the sound of torn flesh.

They continued forward, seeing this position as untenable. Another monster lashed out and dragged off two more Skitarii with tendrils of darkness. The Secutor lashed with his bladed limbs at the ink, which did nothing against it. It appeared like a mix of both fog and ink, though disconnecting it seemed to do nothing. The Dark Mechanicum stood at the middle of a four way intersection now. Surrounded by encroaching shadows, an all out assault began. Though the Mechanicum learned they could hold back these monsters if they were dissipated to the point where they held no form.

With data in hand, they began to make the shadow creatures' attacks ineffective. So they started to aim their weapons down the corridors to fire upon whatever was making these things. Scylia ducked back as a galvanic shell slammed into the metal wall past her head. She cursed under her breath, and sent another illusory wave of ink monsters into her area of psychic power. It dragged another Skitarii out from the one way veil, which Telemateus made quick work of by smashing its head in with his ceramite boot.

"My illusions seem to be losing effect, it took us this long to grab one more!" More shells slammed into the area past them, the Mechanicum had realized which hallway they could shoot down to put a pause to the illusory assault. Their minds of cold logic concluded that the source was down that hall and the other three were inconsequential. A correct conclusion, though Scylia cursed their analytical enemy. This was easier when they panicked, these metal monsters rarely if ever even emoted. Let alone give in to fear.

"They cannot be allowed to reach the hangar, I can sense our brothers are already beleaguered by their own Dark Mechanicum betraying them." Telemateus spat. He'd charge in and finish them off himself if he could, but the weaponry of the Mechanicum was nothing to take lightly. Loyalist or Heretek. He did, however, have one thing that could dislodge them. A wave of psychic impulse reached out, and called upon Vaelith. Soon, the Daemon Prince stood before them with an annoyed expression.

"I did find the information you wanted, but I got oh so lost finding my way back." Their tone was sultry, laced with honey that sweetened the taste of abject loathing. A certain joy was mixed with their tone at the prospect of Telemateus catching a depleted uranium round to his head from an arquebus shot. Or being sliced apart by the Secutor's power blades.

Telemateus was aware of the daemons loathing for him, he had yet to set aside time to care. "Kill them all, then proceed to the hangar. Touch nothing else but our enemies, those you can butcher all you like." Vaelith hated taking orders, but they had to admit… This kind of order was quite fun. "Have your pet witch keep that illusory bubble up, I like it better when they're afraid."

"Prepare to be disappointed, Vaelith." Scylia spat with just as much venom as the prince gave her. The pale fleshed daemon breached the shadowy barrier. As all the guns trained and unloaded on them. Vaelith dodged the first volley with alarming speed, rushing up and leaving two Skitarii without their top halves. A spin left another one sliced down the middle with a spray of sparks and blood.

The Secutor's energy blades blocked Vaelith's next strike, and the Daemon Prince tsk'd sarcastically. "Really? Interrupting? It's not your turn yet." A bladelike tail stabbed clean through the Secutor's midsection. And carried them away, still impaled, behind the prince. The traitorous Secutor twitched and struggled to break free, as the Daemon Prince continued their slaughter with cackling glee. Blood and oil drenched the intersection and stained their purple skin. Their joy was brought crashing down by a psychic pulse from Telemateus.

The illusory barrier fell while Scylia and Telemateus continued past Vaelith.

"Kill them, don't play with them."

Vaelith snarled and bore their teeth, the squirming Secutor had so much more potential suffering to be wrung out. Telemeateus paused and glared back at them. Vaelith had no choice but to whip their tail up, and leave the Secutor atop the pile of bodies in two pieces.

"You truly are the worst human, astartes or otherwise, I have ever had the displeasure of dealing with, Telemateus."

"You're an abomination who's only hope is to serve your former kind, scorn from you is as damning as scorn from a World Eater. They mean equally little to me." Telemateus continued on his way, Vaelith cursed in an arcane language but followed nonetheless.

The bridge was a pitched battle, the defenders were better equipped in theory than their attackers yet theory so often broke when put against reality. The Dark Mechanicum had come prepared, and though the Alpha Legion had suspected they were working towards ulterior motives, they didn't expect a full on assault yet. Boltor fire ripped through the seemingly endless waves of servitors and Skitarii kill teams, Medon and his power axe were drenched in viscera from a hard fought battle. But the grim truth was evident, his armor was battered, and he was forced to retreat for cover.

"Where in the warp is Elatus?!"

Medon glanced at the bridge viewing window at the fleet. The telltale flashes of battle were appearing there as well. At least, for most of the vessels. Two of the vessels were translating into the warp? Why? Had this been a betrayal from both the Mechanicum and their brethren? Medon cursed the fleeing vessels, until he caught a distant glimpse of their bridges. They were dark, with none of the lights that would indicate anyone alive was on board. He also saw shuttles leaving them.

Initially, he thought this may be a plot to assist other ships. Trick the Dark Mechanicum into believing some of the Alpha Legion had abandoned the fight only to appear later as reinforcements. Then, his hopes were destroyed. Engines sputtered and backfired, the ship was torn in half by faulty thrusters, and then they exploded. He didn't know how many of his brothers had just died, he didn't know if this was intentional, all he saw was two vessels of the Alpha Legion reduced to scrap and wreckage being consumed by the Warp. He could only assume the worst, and he considered that this was soon going to happen in the other ships. They had to break this attack, and warn the rest of the fleet. Time was limited, and Elatus would take too long.

Medon sighed, collecting himself. His armor may have been damaged, but his body could sustain some damage on its own. He hefted his power axe, grabbed a chainsword from a fallen Legionnaire and charged back into the fight.