POV: Nicole
I glance to my left as I continue down the hall, Baldos and Delta-A3 following behind the nice old man and I. “I don’t think I got your name, sir?” His noospheric profile was practically empty and sterile.
“Oh, you can just call me Shadow, little lady, I’m far too old to care for titles and all that nonsense these days,” he speaks with a kind smile.
He had titles? What titles? His profile didn’t list any titles besides ‘retired’ and ‘head liaison for the Assassinorum’ and I got the feeling trying to pry past the front was unwise.
I shake my head and shrug it off. Not my problem, he’s being friendly and helpful. A quick scan reveals he’s not a Callidus like the secretary. His cane is even made of real redwood, but according to my Auspex, there is an extremely well-hidden exotic sword of some sort inside.
It is a little weird how he walks me and my retinue right through the checkpoints; the guards at each one all stiffen as though a high-ranked officer just walked in when he enters. No one stops us on our way to the Inquisitorial meeting room.
Two Inquisitors are sitting inside when we arrive, along with their retinues. They both have proper identity tags; Inquisitor Van Vuygens and Inquisitor Delacoi both are of the Ordo Xenos. I note that both tense and rather than focus on the looming form of Baldos behind me, their eyes focus on Shadow.
Van Vyugens is a scraggly old adept of a man. He looks properly eccentric with his wild mane of hair and hunched figure, and various augmentics, all the while wearing simple, drab black robes. Meanwhile, Delacoi is in full armour and looks more like the typical expectation of an Inquisitor, with a sharp face and eyes, shoulder-length straight black hair, and a build that leans towards muscular.
“Ah, good, you’re both still here. This–” he gestures politely to me, "–is Lady Nicole Cavalerio. She needs to speak with you two,” he speaks as he calmly takes a seat at the end of the table.
“Lord Shadow? But… we were… Ah, of course, of course,” Van Vyugens mutters. “What can the Ordo Xenos do for you, young lady?” He asks with a weary sigh.
“I am aware of the Genestealer issues you are currently dealing with in this system.” I begin and pull out one of the hefty portable scanners and set it on the table. “This… is an archeotech-pattern genetic scanner. Man-portable. It requires physical contact but generates results quickly. It can detect all stages of human Genestealer infection and it probably works on other types of xenos infections but that will require further testing on your end.”
Both Inquisitors' attentions are focused on me while their eyes are now locked on the device. “That… is a bold claim, Lady Cavalerio,” Inquisitor Delacoi says slowly.
I smile, “This one is for you, free of charge. Feel free to test it extensively – we certainly did. Everyone visiting the Drakios fleet will require screening, but we didn’t find this unit. We made it.” I say, letting that sink in for a few seconds before I nod, “We have the full production schematics. They’re expensive to produce, requiring several rare and difficult-to-produce materials along with some precision machining, but they can indeed be manufactured. Though setting up such a production will have to wait until we speak with the Fabricator General,” I say as I nudge the unit forward, then place the dataslate containing the scanner's specifications on top.
“This is a copy of the production schematic and operating manual. You are free to distribute it throughout your Ordo,” I say, and one of the adepts standing behind Delacoi faints. “Oh! There’s also a schematic for a larger stationary walk-through scanner, but I can’t exactly carry that around.”
Shadow sits there with his eyebrows raised slightly as he glances at the unit and then back at me with an amused expression.
“Where did you get this?” Van Vuygens asks breathlessly as he snatches up the dataslate and begins reading.
“Found the design on an ancient archeotech ship within the Processional. We had to make a few minor adjustments; some of the original parts were deemed beyond the ability of the Mechanicus to fabricate. The original version could be used at a distance, was far smaller, and had broader uses.” I shake my head and sigh, “A shame, but we successfully produced and tested this lesser model on some Genestealers we encountered on a space hulk. Our fleet – both the Rogue Trader and Mechanicus – have agreed to hand it over to the Ordo Xenos. You are welcome,” I say, preening a little.
The controls and operation of the scanner were fairly straightforward, and within a few minutes, they had completed scans on each other and their retinues. All of which were negative.
Van Vuygens turns to one of his Tempestus Scions, “Bring me the prisoners from block GS-33-D within my lab.”
“Do you want me to stay here or…?” I ask as their teams start discussing options and plans.
“If you have time, Lady…” He squinted at me briefly. “Princeps Senioris Cavalerio, please stay until after this final testing period is concluded,” Van Vuygens spoke politely, eyeing both my retinue and Shadow.
“Alright,” I reply as I sit down next to Shadow.
“Was there anything else?” Inquisitor Delacoi asks eagerly.
I shake my head and giggle, “Not for the Ordo Xenos.”
She blinks and raises an eyebrow. “But is there something else?”
I nod slowly, “The Machine God has truly blessed us. However, it is a restricted Mechanicus matter. I do not doubt that if Cypra Mundi decides to fund the production of them in addition to the scanners, you’ll hear about them soon enough.”
The Tempestus Scions don’t take long. They arrive with the first prisoner covered in a dark black hood, sedated and bound with shackles. The man is shirtless and covered in surgical scars.
Van Vuygens approaches the prisoner with the scanner and presses the probe into his skin. One of the guards violently removed the hood so the Inquisitor could question the prisoner face to face. “Prisoner. This device is a lie detector. Answer this question with a yes or no. Are you a Genestealer?” The lie flows easily, likely to mask the true nature of the device to anyone listening through the hivemind.
“No!” The man hisses, his voice slurred. The scanner gives out a high-pitched ping, and the screen flashes, Van Vygens’s grin turns vicious as he reads the display.
“You and I both know that’s a lie, prisoner.” He nods at Delacoi as he draws a long-barreled las pistol and shoots the man in the head without even turning his head. “It works! We must perform additional tests, of course, data is the best proof, but it functions as stated!” He cackled gleefully.
I have to sit there silently as he brings in prisoner after prisoner, each is tested and summarily executed.
Van Vuygens grows even more enthusiastic when one of the prisoners reads as negative. “This one was mentally compromised but not genetically! This device is stupendous! Fantastic!” He cackles as he goes around scanning his retinue.
Inquisitor Delacoi’s gaze turns to me, her eyes sharp and calculating. “Lady Cavalerio. If these scanners can truly be mass-produced, the Ordo Xenos will never forget this. What do you want for this wondrous gift?”
I raise my hands placatingly, “It's a gift freely given by everyone involved in the find. We wouldn’t dream of withholding such an item from the Inquisition; your work is critical, and doing so would be the height of foolishness and detrimental to the Imperium. We can’t produce them in high enough numbers ourselves to make a difference; only a major forge world can. Though personally? I have some Xenotech I may need paperwork for. Lord Drakios has his more exotic loot covered under his Warrant of Trade. I have no such document.”
Delacoi snorts, and Van Vuygens chuckles; both wave a hand dismissively at the trivial request. “Easily done. Simply forward my office a list of the items in question,” Delacoi says confidently.
“We’ll need to contact the Fabricator General and begin making arrangements immediately.” Van Vuygens mutters, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he has to step over one of the corpses that were being quietly cleared away by the guards.
I stand up and nod, “I’ll leave you to it. Good hunting, Inquisitors. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Cypra Mundi owes me a Titan,” I say politely.
As I turn to leave, Shadow stands and shuffles forward, “I’ll walk you out. This has been the most exciting visit I’ve had in years.” His sharp grey eyes glint with amusement.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------
POV: Fabricator Locum, Archmagos Rhydan Korr
Korr was quite pleased with the amicable and punctual response from Archmagos Doll confirming his attendance.
That boded well for his plans for the Forum. What he had not anticipated was the follow-up priority message he received. The Fabricator General would attend the Forum in person.
The attendance list for the Forum was available publicly in the Noosphere. The moment the name Aptimos Mundi Phi<0.05 appeared at the top, the entire high council confirmed their attendance in short order.
Additional confirmations poured in from the middle council and lower-ranked Magi. He quickly muted the notifications.
That was unusual. It was well within the Fabricator General’s right to attend. Typically, if he attended at all, his attendance was done through a remote servitor or servo skull. Korr could count the times in the past decade he had deigned to attend in person on a single hand.
His attendance was mildly concerning. He checked the communications logs for justification and ran through a checklist, searching for the cause, but he found nothing definitive. Korr could only speculate; he could admit the Fabricator General’s ability to compile and process truly titanic amounts of data was well beyond his own. The probabilities suggested that something had caught his interest, with an artifact or data cache being most likely. It would not surprise him if the Fabricator General had managed to glean a more detailed manifest of Doll’s findings.
“Nothing I am doing should upset Lord Aptimos. I am far more interested in the actual debate portion, which should fall within his tolerances, given the situation with Archmagos Doll,” he muttered to himself. The reveal of something like an STC fragment would grant Doll significant favorability, but such favor would give their debate even more weight.
There was also considerable signal traffic coming from the Segmentum Fortress. Particularly, the Inquisitorial lines. The ordo Xenos had been much more active the past few months but that activity had spiked within the last few hours which was curious.
Korr delegated a team to check over the entire Forum’s structure and ensure everything was prepared to his standards. The Cypra Mundi Mechanicus Forum, Hall of Masters, Chamber of Deliberation, was a massive circular colosseum. Viewed from above the structure was shaped like a massive gear.
The colosseum's seating was tiered, with the lower and closer you sat to the main stage, the higher your planetary status. The Fabricator General had his own throne in the most prominent position, and then the High Council had a row of seats. Above them was a section dedicated to guests; at that same level were designated seats for the important members of the local Titanicus Legios and representatives from other Forge Worlds, with the emissary from Holy Mars at their fore. Following that was a small row of miscellaneous individuals of importance before the mass seating for the thousands of middle council members. Well above them in the fringes was open seating for local Tech Priests and occasionally gifted acolytes.
Korr was pulled from his musing by a high-priority call over the noosphere.
“Autokratoris Dravane?” Korr answered amicably.
“Fabricator Locum. I require the services of Cypra Mundi’s foremost legal experts. I was told you may have suggestions.” The man got straight to the point. He sounded exhausted.
“For what purpose and in what time frame?” Korr inquired as he pulled up a list of suitable individuals.
“Contract litigation with the Inquisition. Immediately,” Dravane admitted hesitantly.
Korr hummed, “I can certainly recommend a team with the proper clearances. I do hope this matter will not interfere with the upcoming Forum.” He had no issue assisting Dravane, but his tone held a hint of warning.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Omnissiah be praised. Yes, I will attend, Lord Locum. No, the issue will not interfere with the scheduled inquiry or your debate. Though the issue may be brought up afterwards.” Dravane was rarely so respectful; he must have really been in a tricky situation.
Korr nodded to himself. “So be it.” He ended the call and directed his attention to a discrepancy in one of his refineries. He scowled.
The dregs in the lower acid vats had fallen behind their quota again, and the Ordo Xenos had taken several away for questioning. He’d need to order another shipment of disposable criminals. While it vexed him to rely on brutish manual labor in that particular complex, it was not worth risking precious holy machinery or even lowly servitors in such a caustic environment. The numbers didn’t lie – the Fabricator General himself had advised him on the matter.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------
POV: Bladed Cog, Magos Biologis, Biophagus Zygor Gravox
The Broodmind was in turmoil as another quaternary aberrant coven had been discovered and purged. That made three within the past month. The Ordo Xenos had somehow gotten wind of their presence in the system, finally, after generations.
Zygor knew their organization was unusual. The Patriarch slumbered deep below, minimizing his presence. His sister, their cult’s Magus, excelled with recruiting lesser dregs to the cause. Despite that, Zygor held the highest Mechanicus rank within the cult. It was through his efforts and connections that the Primus was progressing on the path to becoming a Magos Dominus.
His guidance had been blessed by the Patriarch, and he had done well. Slowly and carefully expanding their network, maintaining numerous degrees of separation between the true hive and the other covens. Masking mutation with biological and mechanical augmentation was an art he was nearing mastery of.
He had been the one who recovered and snuck in the great corpse of the queen from beyond the stars. He had procured the great hidden vat lakes for their experimentations with biomass after the week of molten rivers. He had secured war material and developed an intricate network made of loyal broodkin and unknowing human agents.
It was one of these lesser human agents who had managed to procure a position adjacent to the Inquisition, and that same agent who informed him that the Ordo Xenos were on the move again.
He was more than aware of the neophyte hybrid who had been executed thanks to their memories circulating through the Broodmind. The strange device that had supposedly detected his lies was a new and concerning item.
The Ordo Xenos Inquisitors were known to him, though plans for their discreet removal may have to be accelerated if their purges continued at the current rate. The little girl and the old man they had glimpsed through the hybrid’s eyes were not known to them, which was its own manner of concerning.
His implants pinged. The lauded noosphere was a wondrous yet lacking imitation of the broodmind, useful still, but dull and lacking in emotion and detail in comparison. As a member of the middle council, he would be required to attend the gathering forum. He was tantalizingly close to further elevating his station; a seat on the high council would grant him the power and authority to set the stage for a full planetary takeover.
Through him, the workings of the Clawed Omnissiah would flow, and the false believers would learn the folly of their pitiful existence.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
POV: Star Dragons 9th Company Captain, Bolaar Silvershield
Bolaar was relieved when they arrived in the Cypra Mundi system. He could finally get some answers on the status of the Star Dragons chapter and an update on the overall situation in the segmentum.
While Nicole and Baldos were off visiting the Inquisitorial palace on the Segmentum Fortress, he and a few of his brothers headed for the communications spire.
He passed through several checkpoints, getting his biometrics scanned and entering the required codes to enter the secure space.
“I’d like a list of all Astartes forces present in the system. As well as any data you have on the Star Dragons and Blood Swords chapters,” he told the servitor attached to the primary console.
“The following Astartes chapters have elements in the Cypra Mundi system undergoing refit or repair after sustaining damage during the 13th Black Crusade. Two Battle Barges. Thirteen Strike Cruisers. Thirty Astartes escort class vessels are currently being serviced,” the servitor rasped out as the screen behind it flashed and began to scroll.
Angels of Absolution: 1 Escort
Blood Angels: 1 Escort
Brazen Claws: 1 Battle Barge, 1 Strike Cruiser, 2 Escorts
Consecrators: 1 Escort
Dark Angels: 1 Strike Cruiser, 3 Escorts
Death Spectres: 1 Escort
Deathwatch: 1 Strike Cruiser
Doom Eagles: 1 Escort
Excoriators: 1 Escort
Exorcists: 1 Strike Cruiser, 1 Escort
Flesh Tearers: 1 Strike Cruiser
Harbingers: 1 Escort
Howling Griffons: 2 Escorts
Imperial Fists: 1 Escort
Iron Hands: 1 Strike Cruiser, 2 Escorts
Iron Snakes: 1 Battle Barge
Night Watch: 1 Strike Cruiser, 3 Escorts
Novamarines: 1 Escort
Raven Guard: 1 Strike Cruiser
Salamanders: 1 Strike Cruiser
Space Wolves: 1 Strike Cruiser, 4 Escorts
Storm Warriors: 1 Strike Cruiser, 1 Escort
Storm Lords: 1 Escort
White Consuls: 1 Strike Cruiser, 1 Escort
White Scars: 1 Strike Cruiser, 1 Escort
“Please note. Star Dragons: Captain: Bolaar Silvershield. 9th company. The Blood Angels and their successors have priority in the voidcraft repair queue. Indexing archives. Please wait.”
Bolaar was both relieved and disappointed not to see the Star Dragons and Blood Swords on the list.
“Star Dragons Chapter. Status: Active. Recent losses reported: KIA: 4th Company, 7th Company. MIA: 8th and 9th companies… Updating… 9th Company status.”
“Blood Swords Chapter: Status: Active. Recent losses reported: KIA: 5th Company, 8th Company. MIA: 4th Company, 9th Company. All other companies suffered minor losses.”
“The majority of Star Dragons and Blood Swords forces are confirmed to still be active and have returned to Draconith to replenish their forces.”
Bolaar winced; those losses hurt, but the news could have been much worse.
“Sounds like the 6th Company made it back safely,” Apothecary Sistus muttered behind him.
Bolaar nodded, “Indeed. Now, come help me draft missives to the various chapters here. We can invite them to send a representative so we can properly return the relics.”
“Venerable Baldos also wanted to arrange for a gathering,” Brother Cogmane reminded him.
“We’ll bring that up with whoever they send to the Argent Drake. Make sure we invite any successor chapters present, but we need to speak with the Blood Angels, Deathwatch, Imperial Fists, Salamanders, Space Wolves, Ultramarines, White Scars, and we may as well invite our Iron Hands brothers, too. We can spare a few of the recovered early patterns of armour suits if they’re interested.” Bolaar shook his head and chuckled in amusement as he considered the number of relics they were planning to return to their rightful chapters. “I’ll send a separate missive to the Inquisitiorial palace about the Grey Knights wargear and the daemon.”
“If returning these relics doesn’t garner us enough goodwill for them to indulge the Venerable’s request, I’ll eat Brother Cogfist’s left boot,” Brother Cogmane declared boldly.
Bolaar allowed himself to laugh at the amusing mental image.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------
POV: Imperial Ministorum Cardinal, Octavian Malchior
The Cardinal sat comfortably behind his desk. Morning mass at the main cathedral aboard the Segmentum Fortress had gone well. The faithful masses required a firm guiding hand in these trying times. The light of Holy Terra would return in time, he was certain. In the interim, it was their duty to ensure the pious flock was tended, and the predators of the faithful received The Emperor’s Mercy.
As he worked, the rotund form of a cherub fluttered in with a sealed scroll of vellum clutched tightly in its demure hands, which it proffered to him.
He took the scroll and glanced at the seal. The Sororitas? It took him a moment to place the specific iconography: The Order of the Silver Lilly.
He broke the seal cleanly with a deft flick of a small golden letter opener. Unfurling the curious document, which he then began to read in the warm candlelight of his office.
He read through the document in its entirety before he paused. He blinked once, slowly, before he reread it all to confirm what was written. A look of confusion and frustration creased his brow.
He flicked a few drops of blessed holy water onto the scroll to ensure this was not some kind of foul witch’s deception. When that yielded no reaction, he set the document down and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Then he took a deep, steadying breath.
“Is everything alright, Cardinal?” one of his hunched aides inquired from the corner.
“No,” was his immediate reply. “The Order of the Silver Lilly claims to have arrived with a minor Living Saint under their protection. They claim the Saint is tied to a Mechanicus house and the sworn protector of a Matriarch of a Titanicus Legio. Yet they also claim to have confirmed she can perform miracles in the name of the Holy God Emperor of Mankind.”
“Throne! A new saintess!?” The aide gasped excitedly.
“We shall see. Summon the Prioress if she’s still in the system. If not, the Cannoness Superior will suffice. Have one of the Deacons go into the vaults and fetch me the testing artifacts. We’ll have to verify this personally,” he spoke with a small sigh as he bowed his head in prayer. He could already see that this matter was going to be a trial of his faith and a political nightmare.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
POV: Archmagos Akellonon Doll
Doll slid into his freshly laundered robe after finally inserting and syncing with the mechadendrite suite he had settled on for this outing. The garment was a splendid, vibrant red with gold and white highlights. His new body was in its most compact configuration for the moment but that still left him a head taller than all but the Astartes.
He was well aware that for this astute gathering he had permission to bring along a considerable retinue. Said retinue was composed of a majority of the Argent Drake’s Levelist Magi, Xor in his capacity as a member of the Venatorii, Arken Drakios, Nicole, Techmarines Cogmane and Cogfist, Saint Lael, and all their various guards.
It amused Doll that he wasn’t the only one with a new chassis as he examined Delta-A3 Raptor’s new, wonderfully lethal-looking form. Nicole did a superlative job upgrading her Master of Skitarii and Secutarii Axiarch.
Speaking of Nicole, she was wearing her best red robes that bore her Titanicus insignia. “Nicole, I have a request for you. Please keep your hood up and keep both your physical and Noospheric presences muted until it comes time for your introduction near the conclusion of the debate,” Doll spoke with a calm, confident smile. His own Noospheric presence was also currently restrained.
“Oh, sure, I can do that, Master,” Nicole said, and he felt her expansive aura-like presence nearly vanish as it contracted itself around her like a cloak.
Nicole had wisely elected to store AME away in her tesseract. The unique familiar construct would raise questions and invite scrutiny that they could easily avoid for the moment.
Arken was bringing the original ceramics STC-cube to the Forum for which he would claim full credit, as they had agreed. It was being guarded by a full squad of Star Dragons Astartes in Saturnine Terminator armour, led by Captain Bolaar, and a team of Drakios Dynasty’s Elite House Guard in Heavy Power Armour.
Doll had his team carrying several of the relic artifacts he intended to present to the Forum, but the remaining original STCs would remain safely aboard the Argent Drake. Thankfully, he had digital copies of all of them. He had plans to freely share the Perennial Terran Flora and Bolter STC with Cypra Mundi as a show of generosity.
The full inventory of what they had to trade and reveal was frankly staggering. It had not fully sunk in just how deeply blessed by the Omnissiah they had been over the past few months. A mere fraction of the wealth they had gained would have been enough to elevate a Magos to an Archmagos.
Certainly, a considerable portion was tied to Nicole herself; the Legio Tempestus Titan data, the Mechanicus Probe B4-LT-Δ’s stellar cartographic data, the designs for the Genestealer scanner, the Void Abaci, and the file for the holy waffle iron, which he had already sent with her blessing as a sign of good will to the Fabricator General would be credited to her.
“Nicole, are you certain you wish to forgo credit for the Terran perennial flora and life support STCs? Not even the damaged heavy environmental suit? You personally recovered the fragments,” he asked her openly in front of everyone while the various shuttles they would take down to Cypra Mundi were being loaded.
“Yes, Master,” she said with a small huff. “I’ve claimed two of the three vessels we salvaged from the Processional. With all of the data and artifacts I have, I truly believe that the credit for those fragments should be distributed amongst the fleet and the Levelist faction. Without your guidance, trust, and support, so many of the Omnissiah’s wonders may have remained beyond our reach.” She flashed a wry smile under her hood. Her earnest words earned her proud and surprised looks of approval from the Magi.
“Besides… I’m already going to be extorting them for my Titan.” She giggled, but even with her hood up, she was unable to fully hide her bubbling excitement as they boarded the shuttle. After all, she had somehow confirmed through the Argent Drake that her Kiryu awaited her somewhere on the planet below.
Settling in, they departed the hangar at a modest pace. Slipping into the net of Cypra Mundi’s air and orbital traffic with minimal fuss. They were expected, after all, and his rank, even as a guest, afforded him a number of privileges and obligated him to a certain level of respect.
As they were soaring over the towering spires of the massive sprawling capital forge-city, he had a stray thought and messaged his team. “Everyone, try your best not to gawk at the Fabricator General when you first lay eyes upon him.”
“What does that mean?” Nicole asked, confused as she tried to look it up on the Noosphere. He gently blocked the attempt, and he just smiled and refused to elaborate as she whined about it.
“Patience, apprentice. All will soon be made clear,” he spoke sagely.
That even coaxed a bemused knowing chortle from Magos Xor, “You are in quite high spirits, Archmagos. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I am indeed. Omnissiah willing, I have a feeling today will be quite enjoyable and productive for us all,” he replied just as the shuttle banked and began its slow descent to the waiting landing platform.
