"What separates Humanity from the Aliens that malign our galaxy is our tenacity. Just as the machines that preceded us, humans are a determined spiteful species. The Machine God, in their infinite wisdom, foresaw what would come. Disaster, a price for our alliances with the Abominant Thinking Machines. We were almost wiped out for our sins. We persisted, as the Omnissiah knew we would. We emerged from the Dark Age of Technology wiser, but this enlightenment to our purpose would die as fast as our mortal forms."
From, De rebus machinis et xenaritis. Written by Archmagos Battista Albrecht Ghetaldi, 348.M36
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Static filled the ambience around a lone ranger team deep within the green lit tomb. Far from the mess Magos Tahr'kull found himself in, far from the dead world swarming with the mind-wiped thralls, far from the Shrouded Basilisks. The rangers bore the symbols of the Legio Cybernetica, each one mind locked to a perfect search and destroy protocol. Their steel steps muffled by thin energy barriers, their servos silenced to perfection. They were phantoms, plundering a place where the alien felt safe and at ease.
They ducked from one room into a darkened hallway, lighting damaged from the tomb's previously sustained destruction. The glow of their lenses dimmed, and green flooded the rangers' vision. They saw everything in a mix of night vision and sonar, while being invisible to the bare eye. Basic Necrons lacked the optics or intelligence to find them, though if they ran into something more dangerous they'd have to be wary. They had a plan for that, evidenced by the numerous Necron corpses they left behind to warp away to repair chambers with glowing holes punched clean through their heads.
They paused at a blackstone door, coated in Necron runes. An incomprehensible machine language conversation passed in a near instant. "Present tomb section matches uploaded targeting parameters. Analysis of Necron databases suggests Archeotech in Necron vault."
The squad's alpha unit nodded, "Contact Magos Xanryl with our findings at once, calling in breaching team on our position to begin destruction of the obstacle."
"Alpha Unit, Xenos hostiles will converge on squad position by then. Requesting battle plan upload for defenses."
A protocol left the Alpha and joined the noosphere, slipping out from the room and diverting a team from their previous path. The sounds of screeching engines and the sight of billowing exhaust told of the approach of Kataphrons. The bloated armored carcasses on top had a glazed over yet infuriated look in their eyes. Large Grav-cannons were mounted to their collarbones by metal grafts and fastenings, their other arms were fitted with heavy flamers to defend against any more flayer types that clawed their way out of the abandoned sector of the tomb.
"Squad will disperse at once," said the Skitarii Alpha, "Alpha Unit will remain with the Destroyers to ensure adherence to protocols. Return to Magos Xanryl immediately and return with full Kastelan and Servitor regiments."
The Skitarii saluted and left the way they came. Sparing an occasional crack of Galvanic fire into the head of a Necron who's reanimation protocols had seen them survive their previous attacks. A miscalculation in their aggression parameters that would be rectified immediately.
"I'm just saying, Magos Xanryl…" said Magos Enginseer Van'thauss between swigs of a liquid somewhere between a sanctified oil and the liver churning rotgut the menials called "Blind Snake". A liquid that Van'thauss claimed worked better than normal Amasec at getting him inebriated. Pythagoras regarded the oil coated Enginseer with barely concealed contempt. "If you want your robots fixed faster you should let my boys take a look at 'em."
Pythagoras snarled in an incoherent string of angry binharic, "Those borderline menials should keep their hands where they belong! On machines less important than mine, you're lucky I let you touch them."
Argell Van'thauss chuckled through his rebreather, "Yeah, Omnissiah knows I'm really fortunate to be oh so loved by the Legio Cybernetica. I'll be sure to add that to my prayers to the Machine God before the next cycle." Van'thauss' servo-arm bent a plate of metal back into place, while a mechadendrite fixed with a welding torch started mending the grievous wounds the Kastelan had sustained. "This will take me a bit, magos. I could sit here and poke at you as much as you like but I think it best you direct excavation efforts. There's some odd stuff in the noosphere, may wanna take a look."
The Enginseer hefted his Omnissian axe, spun it around to the wrench side, and continued his work elsewhere on the massive machine. Going almost waist deep into a darkened pit of damaged circuits and burned metal. Pythagoras turned and left, he griped but everyone in the fleet knew if you needed a machine fixed properly and in a way that preserved the goodwill of the machine spirits you took it to Magos Van'thauss. Unless you were unfortunate enough to find him drunk, or with the menials, or with the more willful Skitarii.
Magos Tahr'kull had gone ahead to assist the Dark Angels, Pythagoras and Argell had been left behind to assist the hunt for the Archeotech located below. That gave Pythagoras time to work with more normal members of the Cult Mechanicus, a vacation from the abnormal methods of those who sailed the void aboard Praeco Voltaic. As the datasmith exited the smoke and incense filled chamber his ocular receptors adjusted to the dim light of this planet's twin moons. They'd been there nearly a week, and had little else but mounting losses to show for it. He was determined to change that tonight, it was perfect.
As he planned, his mind inlaid a message from one of his personal Skitarii.
"Magos Xanryl, Necron inner chambers located by forward scouting team. Rangers inbound to provide escort, requesting presence by senior priesthood to proceed with the holy mission of recovery."
"Meet me at the tomb's entrance at once Ranger team, I will call for the Lord Majoris to meet us down there." The data link cut, the rangers would be there soon. Meanwhile Pythagoras hailed Anaxagoras on the vox, "Lord Anaxagoras, we've located the most likely position of the Archeotech. Resistance there has been crushed, nothing stands in our way. It would be a great honor for you to join us for its reclamation."
A moment passed before Anaxagoras responded, "Planetfall imminent by teleportarium, I will attend. In my war body." Pythagoras stopped dead in his tracks, as did two Kastelans that had recently been repaired and rejoined him. "My Lord, I don't see the need for a full war body. The Necrons are driven before us, it is a clear path."
"Results of previous encounters speak to alternative truth, the Omnissiah's way is caution as well as trust in the will of the Machine. Do not question me again." The vox cut off, Pythagoras cursed internally. Turning to a Skitarius doing a diagnostic on a shuttle nearby. "You, tell Lord Anaxagoras I proceeded towards the tomb and will meet him at these coordinates." A silent transfer of data occurred in mere moments, followed by a salute from the Skitarius, who quickly returned to his task to await the Explorator Majoris.
Pythagoras rushed off towards the crypt, he had to ensure the tomb was truly subdued. He had to ensure the Skitarii found the right location. Prepare for everything to go right for his master. He met the rangers as they emerged into the moonlight, they saluted and formed up with Pythagoras in perfect formation. "Take me to wherever it was you found the chamber, immediately."
The walk into the crypt's depths took a bit longer than the trip out of it. The Rangers were experts at fast movement over rough or hostile terrain and environments. Pythagoras was less inclined towards such fast paced travel, he was a being of protocols. Programming, machine language, and code. This was outside of his normal expertise, and yet he would endure it. They had to be quick, between the impending arrival of the Explorator Majoris and the Necrons' reanimation protocols meaning they'd never truly stay dead they had to ensure complete security.
Failing this could mean failure of his entire mission. He'd expected more time, time spent on preparation and digging. On information gathering, being assured as possible that they had the right location. If they were wrong, they could stumble across the overlord of the tomb. That would spell a disaster worse than they faced previously. To Pythagoras, the possibility of looking incompetent before Anaxagoras was a far greater danger, even if his war form was capable of great strength it would reflect poorly on Pythagoras. Who was still reeling from the cohort's earlier losses, losses he was quietly blamed for.
He would prove them all wrong, he would prove to his master that he was their most valuable acolyte. Delivering the Archeotech into his hands would simply be the first step. He was almost so giddy with the idea of rising to be second in command, that he almost didn't notice the large blackstone door with the giant Necron emblem carved into it. The battle servitors there moved back on their treads with a groan and the Skitarii took up sentry positions.
Pythagoras looked at the door, and felt an overwhelming surge of greed swell in his chest.
"To oblivion with these Nephilimech creatures." Pythagoras said, with a thought the two Kastelans slowly creaked with new life. They lumbered towards the door, standing on opposite sides of it. They simultaneously grabbed at the door with their powerful mechanized hands. The stone strained to hold closed, energy cracked as the Necron construction tried desperately to hold against the ancient machines.
Pythagoras' rage flared and the battle servitors were mind locked in an instant. Without thought, they turned their grav cannons towards the door and unloaded a full salvo. Crushing gravity tore at the door with even more force than the robots and with that the door crumbled with the echoing sound of snapping stone and falling rubble. A backblast of Necron energy knocked Pythagoras and the Rangers backwards, the Kastelans and Servitors returned to a resting position awaiting new orders.
After getting back up and dusting himself off like nothing happened, his entourage all fell into formation and descended into the new chamber. Unseen, to anyone above, a silent command went out to the rest of Pythagoras' legion, and they steadily began advancing into the tomb to secure the path for the next step of the plan.
A flash of light and geometric shapes heralded the arrival of a monolithic figure of machinery perfected. Standing in resplendent robes of Martian red, white cog patterning, and golden decorations riddled across them like a circuit board. Incense burners affixed to his power pack billowed blessed smoke constantly. A trio of servo-skulls hovered around the Explorator Majoris, scanning everything and feeding a constant flow of information to Anaxagoras. Across the entirety of the Explorator Fleet's ground forces he could see thin glimmering threads of data connecting him to every single servant of the Machine God present.
Two large Omnissian axes were held by servo arms protruding from his shoulders, and a swarm of Mechadendrites rested along his back like a cape of wires and metal. Where he went, members of the fleet stood aside and saluted in quiet reverence for this living embodiment of the Omnissiah's holy mission. A being well past the Crux Mechanicum, more machine than flesh. A Skitarius rushed up to Anaxagoras and stood at attention.
"Explorator Majoris, Magos Xanryl requests your presence within the tomb at these coordinates." Anaxagoras watched the data flow into the Noosphere telling him precisely where the Datasmith had gone. Despite his orders and despite his obvious intention to meet Pythagoras at the surface the datasmith had gone below, before he could get there. His emotion vaults returned annoyance at the hasty behavior.
"Acknowledged Skitarius, return to previously designated routines." The soldier saluted and left as fast as he'd arrived. Anaxagoras continued forward, as he moved a lockstep team of Vanguard joined him. Their steel march approached the tomb's yawning entrance, following the Datasmith's footsteps.
"Request for information," Anaxagoras said, "Did Magos Datasmith Xanryl leave any data missives for you?"
"Negative, Archmagos." Said the Skitarii Alpha. Anaxagoras returned a curt acknowledgement and tried hailing Pythagoras. Abnormally, there was no response. Normally the Datasmith responded to his hailing immediately. Something felt off, he'd never known Pythagoras to defy standard procedures so eagerly. As they descended into the crypt, further attempts at getting through to Pythagoras proved equally as fruitless.
Time passed, and after eliminating an occasional broken down scrapped Necron that had managed to stand up and limp weakly towards them they came to the rubble remains of the door to the inner chambers. Lingering data clouds proved Pythagoras had been here, though destroying a door like this was against the Explorator Fleet's protocols for breaching Necron Seals. Brute force was likely to alert Necrons to the intrusion, should any elite guard linger in this place they'd likely be awake if not beginning to awaken.
Anaxagoras imitated a sigh through scratching machine code. He was about to send advance scouting commands to the Skitarii nearby when the first shots echoed behind Anaxagoras.
A galvanic shell slammed into the head of a Vanguard to Anaxagoras' right, three more were eliminated in mere fractions of a second afterwards. The remaining Skitarii whipped around in time to see Rangers ducked back into cover. Cover that was vaporized along with the Skitarii behind the stone by a massive beam of purified destructive energy from Anaxagoras' twin eradication beamers.
"Skitarii, stand down at once!" A wave of machine commands erupted from Anaxagoras and slammed into the Skitarii. They paused and emerged from their hiding places. Seven additional rangers stood staring at Anxagoras. Their posture was nothing like normal, they twitched and had slack shoulders. Their code signifiers were glitched, and the clouds of data around them hummed with interference and static. Anaxagoras recognized this, he'd seen it before.
These Skitarii were infected with Scrap Code. As he realized this, he realized immediately afterwards that his own machine language had been overwritten by the foul malicious language as they raised their galvanic rifles once more and systematically eliminated his escorts one at a time. They had no regard for their own survival and were left to one injured survivor themselves. Anaxagoras approached the sputtering sparking ranger, he felt no rage nor disappointment. Only pity, a once loyal servant of the Omnissiah was twisted into a shambling monster. Mind full of nothing more than ravenous insanity brought on by Lingua Diabolis. Anaxagoras hefted one of his weapons, and executed the Skitarius as an act of mercy.
The next chamber was full of destroyed non functional stasis chambers. Necrodermis carcasses littered the floor, but they were old. They'd been here for significantly longer than the cohort had, this couldn't have been the work of a Datasmith and some scattered soldiers. The massive burn marks all over the walls and melted remains of canopteks however were exactly what he expected to find when following a trail of destruction left by Kastelans and battle servitors. At the end of this hallway-like room, a set of lights emerged from the darkness, blue lights.
Eyes and weapons, the weapons of three kataphrons. The occasional twitch of the lights told him all he needed to know, right as he ducked for cover the first shot flew past him and left a gravity well spinning in the room he just came from. His servo skull flooded his mind with diagnostics, Kataphron Breacher type servitors. Equipped with Grav-cannons and currently suffering from anomalous noospheric emissions. Anaxagoras questioned what would cause abnormal noospheric code, that would require someone that was already in the area to be a carrier of Scrap code.
Anaxagoras thought back to a recent message he'd received via the astropaths, Praeco Voltaic warning them of Dark Mechanicum incursions. He'd been preparing to investigate any potential intrusions on board Iudex Galvanic but if there were such incursions planetside then any ship in the fleet could be in danger of similar attacks. If not addressed they could splinter the fleet before they even had a chance to finish their mission here. One by one sending them through the warp to unknown locations with no way of discerning their celestial coordinates.
Another gravity well launched past him, he didn't relish the idea of destroying fellow servants of the Omnissiah or valuable battle servitors but it was becoming clear he had no choice. His servo skulls flew up, and began sending him targeting data. His mind worked at triple speed, calculating the precise trajectory he would need to make this shot end any potential dangers before they even began. He whipped around and uploaded the plotted shot to his arm, micro adjustments were made in an instant and a pinpoint beam of energy punched through the bloated gut of a battle servitor. The energy cut through the machinery supporting its body and sliced through the fuel tanks on its back.
A blast of light and fire ripped through the tomb, knocking the other servitors aside with a metal clang. Anaxagoras left his cover and walked forward. Machine code billowed from him and his servo skulls towards the Servitors, making their guns spark and die. He was unimpeded as he walked past the writhing husks of people. As he passed two arc rifles emerged from his machine form, pointed backwards, and sent pouring electricity across the Karaphrons' bodies. Burning them to death with a small line of smoke and the sickening smell of singed skin.
As he passed into the next room, a chittering stilt-legged machine assassin leapt at him with two power swords out and ready for the kill. Anaxagoras threw the Sicarian aside, it clung to the wall and climbed up like a spider. Shrieking Neurostatic pierced the air, mixed with a glitchy visual distortion in the noosphere. This was the source of the Scrap Code, a rogue Sicarian. Anaxagoras hefted one of his masterwork Omnissian axes and took up a combat ready stance. The Sicarian leapt out, intensifying the neurostatic to almost unbearable levels.
A lesser priest would have found it agonizing, a foul sound that wrenched at their machine integrated souls but he was no minor adept. He was Archmagos Explorator Majoris Anaxagoras Theophilos Kai-Sothus and he would not wither and hide away from this misappropriation of the Omnissiah's gifts.
The Sicarian leapt out again, twin power swords thrumming with power. Three mechadendrites lashed out and grabbed the Sicarian by the neck, an arm, and leg. It thrashed around, struggling against the Archmagos' grasp, its neurostatic increasing in volume. Until it was silenced in an instant by the stab of a dataspike through the throat. Anaxagoras held the Sicarian in the air. It twitched intensely, acting as a wretched hive of Scrap Code like a vector for the plague god's own diseases.
"What in the name of the Machine God caused this? You bear the emblems of blessed mars… What happened here?"
The Sicarian didn't answer, it was still desperately trying to kill its target or infect it. Anaxagoras' mechadendrites all rose in unison, dozens of them coiled like snakes. They struck forward, each one stabbing or tearing at the Sicarian until it was left a pile of sparking scrap metal and pooled blood. Anaxagoras shot the pile of remains with his eradication beamer as his emotion vaults returned sheer hatred for the traitors that created such sick code. The augmetics left behind weren't even fit for the reclamation teams to salvage, the only fate fit for them was utter destruction.
"Return to the Omnissiah's light, fallen one. Machine God take pity upon you."
A quick prayer of salvation was spared for the infected as Anaxagoras returned to his journey down further into the green lit chambers.
He found his way to a circular room, charred remains and dead Skitarii littered the ground. Two Kastelans stood vigil, with Datasmith Pythagoras Xanryl standing between them. His Mechanicus Pistol smoked and glowed from the recent exertion.
"Lord Majoris!" Pythagoras said with a sigh of relief, "Something has happened to the Skitarii and Servitors! They are not responding to my override codes, I had to defend myself."
Anaxagoras nodded, "Similar occurrences have happened elsewhere in the tomb. I have exterminated the rest of the infected I know of." Anaxagoras looked around the room, noting a series of stasis crypts lining the circular room. This looked to be some level of council chamber, though it was more likely this was the Overlord's chamber. Anaxagoras also noted a dug out hole in the side of the room through the blackstone, and a group of dead drilling servitors.
"Request for mission status."
"Mission so far is successful, Lord Anaxagoras."
"You have retrieved the Archeotech?"
"I have my lord, I had to leave it in the storage compartment of one of the servitors. We were attacked by the rogue Skitarii as soon as we recovered it. The Hexonic Cipher is ours, I relinquish it unto your care."
Anaxagoras nodded, and approached the Servitors. They were killed by a Mechanicus pistol, and just then Anaxagoras came to a realization. If the Scrap Code was being distributed through noospheric data transfer, why were Pythagoras' Kastelans not- The Explorator Majoris was interrupted by a Mechanicus Pistol shot causing his local area forcefield to ripple as it deflected the attack.
Anaxagoras slowly turned to face Pythagoras. The cybernetica adept was holding his weapon out. The barrel still smoked, "Datasmith Xanryl… Put your pistol down and surrender the Archeotech to me. Power down your Kastelan Robots at once."
The Kastelans' posture shifted and they turned to face Anaxagoras directly now. Pythagoras lowered his pistol, and his vox spat a garbled chuckle.
"Archmagos Kai'sothus, why in the name of the Machine God would I do that? Was it not obvious? I'm taking this Archeotech to my master, then I'll kill your favored general. Ave Deus Mechanicus I have waited for this day for the last century!"
"You are of the fallen Mechanicum?" Anaxagoras asked, mostly to stall for time. He didn't care about Pythagoras' reasoning, his plans, nor his allegiance. He simply saw a traitor that needed to die, but he needed time for his Servo skulls to finish their analytical scan of the Kastelans. Probing for any weaknesses he could use. There, a flaw in their circuitry had left their defenses against hostile code weakened.
"I am beyond your feeble understanding and labels, your schisms and fractured ways have left the Adeptus Mechanicus weak. Fighting amongst themselves until the end of humanity. I am a step above such things, I have seen the ways of true service to the Machine God. In a way your dogmatic zealotry would never allow."
Anaxagoras cared little for these mad ramblings too, he'd heard much of it before from other fallen members of the Cult Mechanicus. Anaxagoras cast a hand forward. Cutting off Pythagoras and making his augmetics spasm and glitch out. One of the Kastelan robots locked up, and fell backwards with a resounding crash. Pythagoras recovered and the effort it took to completely override one Kastelan was great enough Anaxagoras couldn't do it twice in quick succession.
Pythagoras snarled and sent new kill orders to his other Kastelan. "Kill him at once! He cannot be allowed to leave this tomb!" The Kastelan charged forward with rumbling footsteps, Anaxagoras pulled a second Omnissian axe from his servo arm's grip and held them both out at his sides. A prayer emanated from him into the Noosphere, vox speakers on his armor sang with hymns invoking the Machine God. Just when the time was right, and the Kastelan was in optimal range, his twin Arc Rifles unleashed a torrent of electricity.
The Kastelan's repulsor grid rippled and reflected some of the lightning onto the walls, and when the Kastelan was about to smash down with its fists onto the Archmagos an eradication beamer shot tore through the Kastelan's leg. The repulsor grid was overloaded, the shot cleaved through the armored plate. Knocking it off course and to the side as the metal squealed and broke down under its own weight. Anaxagoras rushed forwards, swinging an axe down at the shoulder joint of the robot. The repulsor grid flickered and struggled against the continuous pounding electricity and assault of a power weapon. It sparked off for a mere second, and in that brief moment the Explorator Majoris' cogitators spun, calculating a precise strike to render his target helpless.
His Eradication Beamer narrowed to a fine point, and pierced through the flickering shield, straight through its head towards the emitter in its chest. The Kastelan swung out with its arm. Anaxagoras slammed his axe down on the shoulder joint one last time, the arm severed with a shower of sparks and arcing electricity. The Robot sluggishly tried to force itself up, but before Anaxagoras could destroy it for good he heard the sound of a dataspike slamming into an access port. He turned, and saw Pythagoras standing there interfacing with a Necron panel.
"This has gone on long enough, your death will be all the more convincing when these take care of you for good."
Green energy erupted from the panel towards the stasis chambers, towards the chambers at the entrance of the chamber. Pythagoras' form distorted and began to warp away, the teleportarium had locked onto him.
"Don't worry Anaxagoras, I have no intentions of awakening the Overlord of this crypt. I still have usage of the fleet. When you and Quill are gone, I promise it will be in my capable hands."
Anaxagoras loosed another shot from his eradication beamer but it was too late. Pythagoras was gone, four Necrons emerged from the green haze of their chambers. Standing tall with ornate headdresses, shields, and spears that pulsed with power. Lychguard, Anaxagoras had dealt with these before. The Lychguard glanced between him and the crypt at the back of the room. By far the largest and best decorated, clearly the Overlord's. They advanced, shields raised and spears out like a phalanx. They weren't held by the guiding hand of their lord, but they still had default routines and keen minds. Unlike their less capable brethren, the Lychguard were still tactically sound. Dangerous in their ability to maintain a tight formation and use squad tactics to systematically dismantle any threat to their overlord.
Anaxagoras calculated as much as fast as he could, thousands of simulations a second passed by. Unlike a similar desperate situation with Magos Tahr'kull, however, he was an Archmagos. Torrents of lightning went from him to two of the Lychguard, they raised their shields. Dissipating the energy ineffectively, making the attack useless. At least, useless on the surface. Anaxagoras stalked backwards, holding his axes out towards the other two as they advanced on his position.
He needed to divert their attention, even for a microsecond. So he did something risky, he shot his eradication beamer towards the nearest Lychguard. It raised its shield, as the beam of energy flew past its head towards Anaxagoras' real target. The Overlord.
The Lychguard very briefly paused, they didn't turn but Anaxagoras knew they were quickly diagnosing any potential danger to the overlord. That's when he lunged forward towards the one now lowering its shield. They may have near perfect reaction speed, but nothing could change the speed with which their machine bodies reacted to that information. Anaxagoras knocked the Necron aside with his axe, damaging the Necrodermis and sending it to the floor coated in electricity. His other axe swung sideways and caught the heft of another Lychguard's spear.
The weapon was knocked aside long enough for Anaxagoras to bathe the Lychguard in another shot of lightning from his Arc Rifles. The Necron spasmed and fell back, just as a third was approaching Anaxagoras from behind. The Archmagos' hive of Mechadendrites all lashed out wildly like snakes disturbed from their slumber. Scoring, battering, and burning the Necrodermis of his attacker. He tried to spin on the Lychguard behind him, but he was too slow and the lychguard managed to sever many of his mechadendrites.
Pain shot straight through his nervous system as the hyperphase blade cleaved through the mechanical limbs and scored his body with a deep gash. The heft of his axe caught the Lychguard in the head, and a follow up swing removed that head from its body. Forcing it to the ground with a dull thud. Anaxagoras took another slash to the arm, then one to a servo arm leaving an Arc Rifle on the ground to leak energy and fade away.
His cogitators spun faster and faster analyzing battle data sent to him from his Servo Skulls. He saw the battle from four angles simultaneously, every time they attacked he knew where it was coming from. It kept him alive, but it wasn't sustainable. His second servo arm was severed, and in his pain throes a shield slammed into him and knocked him aside with a binharic gasp of agony and surprise. He pulled himself back from the three Lychguard.
"Omnissiah preserve and save me, so that I may exact vengeance."
A Necron spear impaled Anaxagoras through where his shoulder once was, machinery sparked and spasmed as that arm fell limp and died. The blessed axe that he'd held for eons laid at his side. Then he made a decision. If he died, these Lychguard may be able to awaken their Overlord. Then the reserves of Necrons would all awaken at a rapid rate, destruction would hardly stop them if that happened. If he was to perish, he had to ensure these three did as well.
Once more his mind inloaded with copious amounts of data, calculating the precise targeting parameters needed. Then, another thin beam hit the Kastelan. It sparked, and in an instant another massive fireball shook the crypt. One of the Lychguard was knocked down from the force, Anaxagoras quickly diverted the weapon into the fallen Necron and cut it down the middle. The other two were knocked off balance enough for the Explorator to knock the spear in his shoulder aside, tearing at the joint more but freeing himself in the process.
He swung up immediately, embedding the head of his Omnissian Axe into the third Lychguard's head. As he prepared to finish off the final one, its spear plunged into his back. A binharic scream followed, and Anaxagoras was driven to his knees again. His respiratory augmetics were labored, his life support was beginning to strain against the damage he'd sustained in the brief fight. If he didn't work quickly, the two less damaged Lychguard would reanimate. He'd be back at square one, so he unleashed a Machine Cant warcry as his Mechadendrites splayed out in an array pattern. Excess power diverted from his remaining Arc Rifle to the Mechadendrites, they grappled the Necron. Coursing power through their frame, making it spasm and lose its grip on the spear. Anaxagoras grabbed it in his arm and servo arm and speared the Necron through the midsection.
Anaxagoras tore up, ripping the Necron apart with machine strength. It fell dead, and he took the opportunity to systematically crush and dismember the other two more intact Lychguard. One by one, they warped away to repair bays. Now alone, Anaxagoras dragged himself towards the exit. He got back to the hallway before he collapsed with the clash of machinery. He felt oil and power leave him in equal amounts. He hefted himself upright, and sat back against a wall. His breathing was labored, and when he put a hand on his midsection he saw the metal limb was slick and glistening with something none had managed to spill from him in almost two centuries. Blood.
He felt his consciousness wane as darkness overtook the corners of his vision. Weak signals were sent out desperately, but with his augmetics shutting down they had no hope of reaching the surface. All he could do was watch the threads and beads of glowing data go dark one by one.
Quill studied the data crossing the Noosphere of Praeco Voltaic. There were abnormalities, random strings of data cut off when passing through quadrants of the ship but never multiple quadrants at the same time. Whoever these saboteurs were, they were jamming detection systems in one part of the ship at a time to avoid raising any alarms. It was a smart tactic, but he had a plan to bypass that. Everyone, every machine, every living being made patterns. It was unavoidable, all he had to do was discern those patterns.
That would be easier when Magos Manipulus Ceth got back to him with his analysis. The idling engines of battle servitors behind him made it difficult to focus anyways, and he wouldn't dare let them fill his personal sanctum with smog, accursed things were good to have in a fight but Omnissiah's sake he hated the smell they made.
Magos Ceth approached, he didn't see or even hear the Manipulus but he could feel the field of ambient electricity fill the air. Sure enough, moments later the magos floated in aloft a galvanic field of his own creation.
"Magos Tahr'kull! A pleasure to answer your summons. Writings of Archmagos Archimedian 54:19 tell us it is the greatest joy to combine minds with fellow hunters of knowledge."
"Well met my friend, have you any progress in tracking down the traitors in our ship?"
"I indeed have. It's a bit difficult to describe in Cant or Gothic. But I will transcribe it in pure Machine Language." The Manipulus' noospheric data was always bright, an enthusiastic display of devotion to the Machine God's ways; he was more of a preacher than Quill was. The data that flowed into the Noosphere made it clear, the intruders were following an ancient tactic of hiding sensitive information, but it was outdated by modern standards.
It wasn't unheard of for the Dark Mechanicum to use olden techniques abandoned by the Adeptus Mechanicus but Quill found it was too much of a coincidence with what he'd seen in the crypt. Whoever was pulling the strings here was the same that had been at that tomb, he was sure of it. He wasn't quite ready to share that information yet. The Manipulus interrupted his thinking, "Magos Tahr'kull?"
Quill shook his head rapidly, "Yes, Magos Ceth? Apologies, I was analyzing the data beads. Quite interesting that we're facing an archaic sect of the Dark Mechanicum. It could prove troublesome if they have older technology."
"Not so Magos Tahr'kull, for in the Book of the Arcing Coil part seven, verse three it says to never doubt the progress brought by the pursuit of knowledge. For that path is the one decreed by the Omnissiah."
The two were interrupted by a hailing frequency opening from Epsilon.
"Magos, we have a situation on the planet's surface."
"What is it, High Marshal?"
"Thallax Cohorts have been spotted, we have confirmed presence of Heresy Era machinery in full function!"