"When my writings find their way to blessed Mars in the inevitable wake of my demise, I will be branded at best Xenarite and at worst excommunicatus. Unpersoned, stricken from all records. My many years of contribution and research snuffed out by the wave of an augmetic hand and the decree of fellow Magi that will refuse to even read what I have to say in my defense. Should I be alive to attempt such a plea. I doubt the likelihood of that outcome, for I have never been one to doubt the accuracy of my own calculations."
From, De rebus machinis et xenaritis. Written by Archmagos Battista Albrecht Ghetaldi, 348.M36
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Metal plinking rang through the labyrinthian halls of Quill's capital ship Praeco Voltaic. Three sets of footsteps ascended the halls from the hangar. As they walked, they grew further and further from the cacophony of metal on metal coming from the rest of the cohort and were left with two normal paced sets of footsteps and a constant ping of spider limbs. Awkward and labored, servos struggled to keep locomotion normalized and sparks flew off of the spot where a mechadendrite had once been but was rended by an alien blade. Magos Quill and Marshal Epsilon marched through the winding hallways, with Epsilon occasionally assisting the magos when his inhuman size made stumbling a near guarantee. Soon the three came to a darkened chamber modeled after a massive cathedral. The Magos's personal sanctuary and meditation chamber. Immediately upon entering, Servo Skulls descended. Beginning repairs to Quill's augments.
The metal flooring had a red carpet draped down the center walkway, decorated in the patterning and emblem of the Cult Mechanicum, a single monolithic window shone light through like an artificial sun. Unlike terra's sun however, this window sat in front of a giant tesla coil, radiant blue power arcing off its metal body wildly. Pure energy, the motive force yearning to escape and find the nearest conduit, which most of the time was Quill or his Electro Priests. Currently, that soft blue beaming through the window was the only light in the room apart from Quill, Epsilon, and the Cyberhound's augmetics. Hymns softly sounded over the vox casters, beckoning the cult members to worship the Machine god. But now was no time for meditation, now was the time for plotting.
"Magos. The relic you hold will stain your sanctum. Standard protocols recommend utmost caution." Epsilon said, as he held out an arm for the Servo Skulls to attend to.
"Aeldari enemies present greater threat level than previous analysis suggested. Present units faced near termination in conflict" Quill scoffed and stretched out his newly replaced metal limb. Stabbing it into the ground a few times for good measure.
"Your memory cores need to be calibrated, we were victorious." Quill approached a short obelisk. A fixture at the top spun like the aperture of an ocular implant, making just enough space for Quill to slot the crystal he retrieved from the temple in. Lights flared to life, bathing the sanctuary's outer ring in fiery orange light but leaving the middle dim and blue.
"We must find them, wherever they fled. It is imperative." Winding mechadendrites descended from the walls while Quill approached the very middle of the room and pulled the plundered Xenos artifact from his robes. It was a small stone cube, intricately marked around the edges and middle. A seam through the center, both horizontally and vertically, hinted at a way to open it. What he would find inside, he had no idea but it thrummed with power, he could almost hear the machine spirit the xenos had trapped inside. He held it in front of his sternum with delicate reverence as the tubelike appendages attached to various ports over his back. Unit GR-37Δ was used to this, and took her usual position by the door, waiting on trouble to find them. Epsilon stepped forward and looked around.
"Magos. Marshal unit requesting information on our end goal. We have no need for such foul heretek, do we?" Quill's mechadendrites grabbed the box, freeing his hands with a mechanical whir. "There is a great need for this undertaking. This," Quill's hololith emitters produced a holo display of a lush habitable planet, "Is Hadron-II, an imperium civilian world. Not even a hive, relatively unimportant… And further than that undefended, this has made it a ripe target for peril." The holo display buzzed and after a moment of becoming blurry it showed a large Drukhari fleet. Strike vessels sending wave after wave of invaders at the planet. Overwhelming their meager orbital defenses.
"This is the fate of the Hadron system if we do not locate the great machine spirit held by the Aeldari. Within it is a power that we could harness to wipe these plunderers out of realspace screaming back to the webway where they belong." Epsilon pondered for a moment. His face betrayed no emotion behind his steel facemask, the faint pulse to his glowing eyes the only indication..
"Magos… Strategic importance of presented world unavailable in current dataset."
"At times, Marshal, the Omnissiah demands we do what is right for his greatest creation over what is purely logical. I will tell you more, as it becomes relevant. For now we must perform the proper rituals of awakening. The servitors have been instructed to allow no one inside the sanctum, step forward." Epsilon walked forward, a final mechadendrite stabbed into an access port at his back.
Power flowed through them both, the motive force driving their augments into overdrive. Crackling energy arced between metal beams, intensifying the ritual. Cogitators and Neural Implants began forcing their brains to compute at a level the flesh was never able to. This ritual, a creation of the cohort, surged both minds and machines but blinded the cult members from the outside world. Crackling power became louder and louder as branches of electricity leapt from metal beam to metal beam. Machine to machine, cult member to cult member. The vox speakers grew louder, but to Quill and Epsilon all went blinding white and silent.
Caenryx held his helmet before him, grimacing at the awful slash through the face that sent him to the ground. He was definitely going to hear about this before they replaced his damaged gear. He was also going to hear no end of his decision to save one very unlucky Exodite, but he found it harder to care about that part. Saving her had felt right, even if it complicated things. He sighed, tossed the helmet aside with a loud clang, and got up to check on Fiachyth in the med bay. The door out of his chambers opened and he was met immediately with the scowling face of his band's Way Seeker, Uroth Kían.
"Caenryx, we are not just going to ignore what you did. Your mission was simple, save the World Spirit while we assisted in the evacuation and counter attack. Simple and effective, but you… You just can't help but to go against everything we carefully put into motion." Caenryx grinned and put up his hands while sliding past Uroth.
"Hey, if our overall mission was to save those of the Maiden World then I did so. And I still saved the World Spirit, as far as missions go it was a complete success."
"Yes, and the near removal of your leg was part of the plan? Or the missing soulstone?" Uroth's scowl deepened. Caenryx paused, halfway done with walking away, and spun on his heels. A mistake considering the pain that shot through his leg where the Mon'keigh priest had slammed an axe into it.
"The missing what now?" Caenryx asked, Uroth snarled his response.
"The soul stone, one of the several that surrounded the World Spirit?! The one that was not in its sconce when we warped the entire thing away?! That soul stone." Caenryx inhaled sharply through his teeth.
"It must have gotten knocked away from the others in the fight… No matter, I can still get it back."
"Oh? You can get it back from the Mon'keigh cult that now has it? From the priest that nearly killed you? You can not only track them down but infiltrate their entire fleet, bypass their security, kill the priest, and take back the soul stone all without setting off their drone soldiers and getting yourself riddled with radioactive gunfire?" Uroth crossed his arms, challenging Caenryx to dare insinuate his own skills were anywhere near that refined. Unfortunately for Uroth…
"Absolutely! Because this time I know what I'm up against, and they won't be expecting me." Uroth rolled his eyes.
"They weren't expecting you last time either but you still lost."
"Technicalities. I underestimated them, a mistake I don't intend to make twice." Caenryx hand waved the notion and continued on his way. Uroth bellowed after him. "Nym won't like this! She'll throw a fit worthy of She Who Thirst's fear when she finds out!" Caenryx rolled his eyes. Let Nym get angry, he could handle angry. So long as he was successful by the end of this fiasco, any anger would be made null and void retroactively.
Quill awoke on a planet of virulent plant life. Black grass and trees with tinged reddish leaves surrounded him. An odd sunset looking place who's sun shone a soft orange instead of terra's bright yellow. The grove was pleasant, quiet, slow. He had been here before, it was a blessed vision by the machine spirits. The very spirit he sought to free from the Aeldari prison, what would they tell him now? What secrets would unfold before him? Usually he simply had to wait and let the motive force drive him but this time was different. There was… A figure, sitting at a stone bench overlooking a dried out fountain. The figure was hazy, formed of blue light that buzzed with the same energy as the motive force. Quill approached hesitantly.
"You... Are of the mighty three in one?"
"I am what you seek, Magos." The spirit said. Quill pondered, clearly this spirit dodged the actual question but what else could this be?
"What is it you seek of me? Magos Dominus?"
"I seek a way to defend my home from those who would see its denizens driven before the vile Drukhari." Quill stepped forward, placing himself between the spirit and the stone fountain. "Your home is the stars, Magos. What protections would you truthfully need? What you need is not protection… What you really require is power. Much more power." Quill nodded. "Of course, holy spirit. But what power must we have?"
"I must be joined with the machine spirits of the nexus the interlopers took from you. Retrieve it, bring it to me, we will fend off the invaders of Hadron-II. As is the will of the Omnissiah."
"If it is what the glorious machine god demands, it will be done. Ancient spirit. Where can I find the interlopers?" The spirit stood up. "They will find you, and you will know when it is time. Your cohort does not see the greater purpose, continue your secrecy." With that, the spirit walked into the treeline and faded away .Leaving Quill in a now fading vision. The vibrant colors and plants bled back to the white nothingness that had initially enveloped him.
Unit-E348.4X, designated as a Skitarius soldier in the Vanguard Corps, found himself with his back pressed against the inside of a trench. Mud stained his cloak, and filthy water ran down his shoulders. His mind raced with a hundred counterintuitive commands from a Magos overseeing the battle thousands of miles away, his Skitarii comrades died in droves around him. Reduced to mere atoms or molecularly rendered slag by Gauss fire. This was it, he was soon to die. He was compelled to move, to keep fighting. No one was left, and the battle was lost. Yet he was forced to get up, lean over the side of the trench, and shoot ineffectively at the encroaching skeletal monsters.
His body disobeyed his own will and was instead forced by machines and servos to put himself in danger's way. Just as he moved to obey his programmed orders, a blast from a "friendly" Dunecrawler sent him flying back numerous feet, tumbling and sparking. Metal creaking, barely holding together. He could not move, his augments were too heavily damaged… He wanted to scream at the pain in his flesh but couldn't. He tried to think of home, but nothing came to mind. His memories before the reawakening were a void.
He tried desperately to remember his name while the shadow of a three legged Necron fell over him, why couldn't he remember his name? The Necron lifted its great blade over its head to finish off the wounded soldier, but a volley of Galvanic fire connected with its head at the last moment. Sending the monolithic blasphemy to the ground with a crash and a cloud of dust. The metal stomping of a cyber hound grew closer. A lone Serbyrus Raider rode to his position, maglocks humming as they disengaged for the rider to leap off and run over to his battered body.
"Breathe easy, Alpha Unit. We have been given the evacuation order. We will see another day." The rider began dragging the broken Vanguard away, leaving a destroyed pistol and power sword where they laid. "Actions defy logical parameters. Serbyrus Unit rank, higher. Action not approved by Marshals."
"The Omnissiah is the greatest authority over all, Marshals included," the Raider said, his voice filled with conviction. With some struggle the Alpha was hoisted onto the magnetized hound. "Actions defy logi- logic. Skitarii unit deemed worthy only of salvage. Abnormalities detected in speech patterns. Serbyrus unit is w-w-willing converrrt." The vanguard's vocal augments were beginning to shut down."
"Indeed." Said the Raider, "I joined because the Omnissiah saved me and because the great machine god saw fit to spare my humanity. I think it only fitting that we don't throw away someone else's. We must defend the great work, not leave it to rust under the heels of our enemies. What is your designation?" The raider climbed back onto his cyberhound and began charging to catch up with the retreating cohort.
"Vanguard Alpha, Unit-E348-"
"Too wordy. It is far more efficient to use fewer syllables. Correct?" There was a pause before the vanguard spoke again. "These parameters of logic are acceptable."
"Phenomenal, then I believe we'll go off the insignia on your coat. Epsilon is much faster to say than a full designation." The two went silent after that, the battle raged behind them as the Cyberhound's servos pushed to get them to safety. As the Alpha's vision began to fade it was overtaken by a blinding light.
"By the great three in one, when I get my dataspike on that errant Dominus." Muttered Pythagoras Xanryl as he stomped down the great hallway to Quill's personal quarters. He stopped at a wall mounted servitor, which was electrocuted to awareness.
"State purpose and name."
"It is Pythagoras Xanryl of the Legio Cybernetica and you will open this door at once by orders of the Explorator Majoris!" The servitor's body struggled to move as it scanned the datasmith."Access… Denied." Pythagoras stood aghast, his frustration mounting "You dare deny me access!? You lowly tool, I am on business from the great Anaxagoras Theophilos Kai-Sothus and we have to speak with Magos Dominus Tahr'Kull at once!" The Servitor returned to a resting position.
"Aggression detected, hostile unit. Deploying defensive countermeasures." "The great monolithic door opened, slightly. Darkness on the other side was pierced by three lights. One searchlight and two eyes, connected to the cyberhound that leapt out at Pythagoras. Bear trap-like jaws snapped down at the surprised Datasmith's power glove and wrenched him to the ground with a binharic shout of confusion.
"Release me this instant, you misappropriated errant machine!" Pythagoras shouted, struggling against the cyberhound's grip. Unit GR-37Δ did not obey. The two just… sat there. Pythagoras was left to grumble angrily to himself. Waiting for Quill to finish whatever it was he did in that chamber.
Nymeidhnanne Rhae and Fiachyth Elial sat across from each other while a Soulweaver worked on Fiachyth's wounds. "Nym'' as the corsairs called her, was a no nonsense type of commander. Part of this seriousness was sticking to the plan, the beaten and near death Exodite in front of her covered in slice wounds was distinctly not the plan. Fiachyth was just as uncomfortable being in this situation. This time the day before she was at home, living life like normal.
Then before she knew it, the sky went dark with Mon'keigh ships, robed predators stalked through the forest, and her entire team was dead. In their last moments, they'd been given a stone box to keep safe. She failed at that too, she didn't even know what this box was. Only that it was important and supposedly very dangerous. She wondered if it was dangerous because the Mon'keigh machine cult had it, or if it was dangerous to the Mon'keigh machine cult because they had it. Her thoughts were interrupted by the Corsair that stared her down with a cold, appraising gaze.
"As soon as you're patched up, we're sending you home. You should never have gotten mixed up in this mess," Nym said, her voice cold and detached. Fiachyth narrowed her eyes.
"If anything you shouldn't be the ones involved, it was our Maiden World that was burned by the humans. Just like it was your soldiers who were fooled by them so easily…" Fiachyth's eyes were cast down to the floor, the realization at the sheer amount of loss and death finally beginning to set in. Nym showed no such sympathy for the dead, whether she felt it or not was irrelevant. She merely showed nothing. She was about to tell Fiachyth that it was time to leave. Go help rebuild, try and regain her life but… In entered Caenryx. The eternally grinning thorn in her side. That wasn't to admonish his effectiveness, but he really could be annoying at times. Especially considering he outranked her but refused to act like it.
"I'm afraid she's not going to be going home, Nym." Nym scoffed at the notion.
"Why not? She's not part of this, she needs to get back home so she and the other Exodites can prepare for the return of their World Spirit." Caenryx smiled sheepishly.
"Ah… Right, that's sorta the why."
"Caenryx… I swear on the forgotten god… What did you do?" Caenryx put up his hands.
"Hold on, it wasn't really me. It was the enemy priest." Nym rolled her eyes. "The one that almost cut your leg off, yes I read the report."
"Wow, everyone's really worried about the safety of my leg. I'm touched, truly." Caenryx said. "We're missing a soul stone… And now we have to find it. We'll need to commune with the spirits of her planet's past denizens. If you really want to send her home, I guess I could try to do it myself buuuut…" Caenryx trailed off while motioning towards Fiachyth. Nym sighed and reluctantly nodded.
"But it would work better if she did it. I get your point… Fine. Get that soul stone and make sure the Machine Cult doesn't do anything foolish with it. Given how they are, I imagine we're on very borrowed time before they do exactly that. Get it done, and we'll just forget how mismanaged the last mission was." Caenryx gave a half hearted salute.
"We'll be done before you all fix that temple." Fiachyth stood up shakily from the pain.
"There's… Another matter. My squad was given a stone relic to watch over, it was taken when I was nearly killed… I don't know what it is but I was told it was very dangerous. I have a holoprojection of it, if you can identify it." Fiachyth held up a Scrying Stone, its surface shimmering as it projected the box in high detail. Nym and Caenryx both looked clueless.
"That's not one I'm familiar with… But… Those carvings are old, extremely old. They seem to be an invocation of Asuryan, at minimum. We can get Uroth or the clown to look into it while we go hunting down our target."
"You get to work, I'll work on identifying your missing relic. I imagine if we find the soul stone, we'll find the box and the priest. I'll also try to find anything I can on our Mon'keigh adversary." Caenryx grinned and all but dragged Fiachyth out of the room towards the recesses of the ship.
"Let go! Let go right now!" Pythagoras wrestled with the cyberhound until it froze. Unit GR-37Δ immediately after let go and sprinted back to the door. Quill and Epsilon came into view moments later.
"Magos… We should discuss what we witnessed during the ritual." Epsilon said.
"We shall. But first I sense trouble surrounds us." Pythagoras got up and angrily dusted off his robes. Marching over to Quill with his servos all but steaming from his rage. Which Quill found amusing, considering he was so massive compared to the datasmith.
"You. The Explorator Majoris demands a meeting with you right now! Follow me, and do not try to worm your way out of this. We have oculars on you… You're coated in static, you were meditating?"
"Of course I was, what else would I do in my sanctum?" Quill said, sounding annoyed at the Datasmith's prodding.
"You have lost Electro Priests in that chamber, our rituals should not kill the acolytes!"
"Yours, mayhaps, but ours are deeper. We seek to be one with the holiest of energies. You simply toy with the robotic servants."
"We perfect the link between robotics and acolyte. We are the ones that ensure computers and circuits are in blissful harmony. You are an upstart that borders on heretek." Quill's axe lowered, cutting off the datasmith's path. Quill's height loomed over Pythagoras, Epsilon hefted his control stave, and unit GR-37Δ prowled around the group like a looming predator.
"Your pitiful neurotic mutterings were amusing for a while, Pythagoras, but know this. The Explorator Majoris is my commander. Not. You. Understand that my work is for the Omnissiah, and you stand in the way of that. I allow you to continue wasting my time because I prefer to keep fellow servants of the Omnissiah alive yet… Accidents happen, don't they? Pythagoras?" Pythagoras stammered, before huffing and all but running off back towards the Cybernetica workshops. Quill knew where to go anyways, he was no administratum scribe lost in their ships, he was a Magos of the second highest order. A final door opened with a hiss of compressed air, leading the three to the Bridge. A glass window overlooking the purple and pink unknowable haze of the immaterium. Such a hellish place, Quill was eager to be rid of it and back in realspace. At the center, a large hololithic form of the Explorator Majoris waited. His giant hulking form a mass of mechadenrites, wire nests, augmetic limbs and cogitators whirring in independence of each other.
"Quill Carneus Tahr'Kull, reports indicate you abandoned your spot in the attack. Losses exceeded acceptable parameters due to your failure. Explain your actions, now." Said the lumbering mass that may have a human form somewhere inside of it.
"I was witness to a group of Eldar warriors attempting to flank the other priests on location. My personal guards and I dealt with them appropriately, this is all."
"Logs of incidents suggest otherwise. You were at a site not at the frontline, but well behind."
"That was where they went and hid, when I found them. I had my Marshal call in an air strike to level the Xenos temple to rubble." Anaxagoras turned his attention to Epsilon.
"Magos Tahr'Kull… Speaks the truth. Lord Majoris." Epsilon was surprised, something in his mind was different. He felt… Well, he felt. He just lied, and now confusion settled in for the first time in eons. Why was he confused? He did as he was programmed, he obeyed the Magos. Except, a lock on the emotional receptors in his brain had just been released. He had made a conscious decision for himself. Why? Quill glanced knowingly at Epsilon and the marshal could swear he saw a wry grin spread across the Magos's cracked decaying lips. What was left of them at least.
"... See to it all future diversions from the planned attack pattern are reported, legions will be routed accordingly. Delays will be implemented, do not fail me twice. Magos, your status is at stake. You wish to reach Arch-magos? Do not be sloppy." The hololith fizzled out and vanished.
"... Request for information, what just happened Magos?" Epsilon asked.
"I simply located something. I've been looking for the locks on your emotion vaults for decades now, the spirit we've been trying to contact revealed them by spiking your Hippocampus. Our neural link allowed me to release the lock and restore some of your higher brain functions. It will allow you a bit more… Creativity. Enjoy it, Marshal," Quill said. Epsilon wasn't sure what to think of this, that small taste of humanity didn't undo his programming nor did it make him just like Quill in the way he still had a personality. He was still a being of cold logic, pre programmed routines, and perfected planning skills. So without knowing what else he could do, he defaulted to a prior routine. Obedience.
"Yes. Magos Tahr'kull. Where will we go next?" Just then, the warp became thin, warp lightning wracked the ship, and realspace took over the bridge viewport. The fleet had reentered, overlooking a dusty desert planet. One by one, more ships exited the warp. Hundreds if not thousands strong, the cohort at full power. All in one place. Even Quill wasn't sure what was going on. Quill slowly began turning back to their sanctum to prepare his personal retinue of Electro priests.
"I believe… Our project may need to be put on hold. This planet… They slumber here."