//------------------------------//
// The Engineer 
// Story: Visions of Darkness 
// by SFaccountant 
//------------------------------//

Visions of Darkness

Punctuation key: "Gothic Speech", +Binary Speech+, "Out-of-narrative speech"

The Engineer

****

Ferrous Dominus - sector 4, Dark Mechanicus Temple Primarus

Gaela's new servo arm whirred quietly as she swiveled it back and forth, testing the range of motion of the fresh bearings.
+I still cannot abide the apparent enthusiasm some of our order have for the devices of the Tau,+ grumbled another Dark Techpriest behind her, +where is the pride, the reverence for human achievement? Are we to accept these wretched xenos as our equals?+
+If we take their technology as we like and deny them the use of our own, then we can admit their advantages and are anyway their superiors,+ Gaela answered curtly, +debates about which species provides better technology are academic, and will anyway be irrelevant when the grayskins are extinct and humanity ascendant.+
+I'm not so sure that outcome is an inevitability,+ hissed the other Dark Techpriest, +if we ally with the Tau, it implies that they will share in our research and production. Even now, they labor in a manufactorum that is producing Warp drives, the technology most coveted by their stunted race! It is not inconceivable that the xenos learn how to equip their own ships thusly!+
+Let them take that argument to the Dark Magos, and see how far it gets them.+ Gaela considered it a unique talent of hers to adopt a deadpan tone while speaking Binaric Cant, and she made full use of the skill. +Tau electric systems are simply far more efficient and well-structured than those we normally produce.+
Her new servo arm snapped open and shut rapidly, moving significantly more quickly than her other servo limbs normally did. Unlike her other arms, its case lacked exterior wiring or tubing as well.
The other Dark Techpriest released another stuttering complaint in binary, but this time Gaela cut him off as she slid off the smithing bay.
+If you wanted to persecute tech heresies, then you should have remained with our loyalist kin. Such absurd strictures to not apply to those of us who have been enlightened by the Dark Powers.+
The other cultist made a disapproving noise that sounded a great deal like a metal pipe being pushed through a belt sander. +You speak as if we had any particular choice in the matter.+
Gaela didn't deign to reply as she picked up her power axe and exited the operatus room.

She didn't make it far down the hall before she received a message over the noosphere. It informed her that Spike and a xeno psyker had attempted to reach her and had been denied entry into the temple.
Gaela couldn't help but be exasperated by the conduct of her peers, who all knew very well who Twilight Sparkle was and had no logical reason not to use her name. She didn't consider herself especially open-minded among the Dark Mechanicus Tech-clerics, but she found the attitude of the other Dark Techpriests toward the unicorns and alicorns annoying. Pony magic was clearly stable, and the majority of the equine psykers were weak and harmless. She didn't see any point to their disdain.

Gaela headed for the front entrance, and her helmet slid into place over her features as she stepped into the fouled air of the fortress exterior.
"Ah! Gaela! Hi!" Twilight said brightly, quickly bouncing to her feet. Or boots, as it were, since she was wearing her armor. The alicorn Princess had been lying down next to the steps leading to the temple as she had waited, apparently. And judging by Spike's expression, she had been moping about her inability to get inside the entire time.
"Greetings, Sparkle," Gaela replied in monotone, "what do you want?"
"Well, I WANTED to talk with you inside, along with Spike," the purple pony said, "I'd really prefer not to have this conversation on the street just because I happen to have a horn."
"The particulars of your anatomy have no bearing on your access to the temple premises," Gaela contended, "you may only enter if you are a member of the Dark Mechanicus or escorted by one. You know that."
"But Spike gets in whenever he wants!" Twilight complained, pointing at the young dragon accusingly.
"Affirmative. The other Dark Techpriests are willing to escort him on request, since they do not hate him as they do you," the cyborg explained to the increasingly disgruntled pony, "this does not suggest that our mandates are arbitrarily discriminatory."
Spike sighed as Twilight fumed within her armor. He wasn't used to being the subject of envy, but he decided it wasn't much fun. "Can you act as escort so we can go inside, now?"
"Affirmative," Gaela said simply, turning around and heading up the steps again. Spike followed right behind her, while Twilight proceeded at a pace that better reflected her sulking.

Soon they had settled in an empty side room, and Gaela stood on one side of a projector table while Spike climbed onto a chair opposite her. Twilight hopped up onto a seat between them, and then pulled off her helmet.
"I hope this doesn't have to do with your rejection from the Mechanicus," the Dark Techpriest said as her helmet disengaged again, "I told you it would never happen."
"This isn't about that," Twilight grumbled, annoyed that the subject was persisting, "I wanted to thank you for saving Spike yesterday."
Gaela blinked. "Pardon?"
"From the gretchin that ambushed you. And ultimately the Orks, too. I mean, I suppose I should thank Tellis as well, but I doubt he'd appreciate it," Twilight reasoned, her expression quite serious, "but you saved Spike just to save Spike, and I can't thank you enough for it. I knew it was a bad idea to let him help in a mission near a combat zone! I should have never let him go!"
"I still don't understand," Gaela confessed.
Twilight furrowed her brow. "Didn't we already teach you about displays of basic gratitude? I thought we covered that. No?"
"I understand the concept, yes," the cyborg said, annoyed, "but I don't know why you're thanking me. Spike already did so. And what did you mean you should have never let him go?"
Twilight gave Gaela a strange look. "Well, as his caretaker, I have a responsibility to look out for him. So I shouldn't let him get into trouble. And why wouldn't I thank you for helping him?"
Gaela stared down at the purple pony.
Twilight stared back.
This silent stand-off lasted a full minute until Twilight reared up and slammed her foreleg boots onto the table. "Spike is not a slave!"
"I didn't say that," Gaela noted.
"You were thinking it!"
"Correct. But I know that argument is never productive, so I had hoped to avoid it today." Gaela crossed her arms over her chest. "If he is not a slave, then he can express his gratitude on his own, and needn't seek permission before engaged in potentially dangerous activities."
"He's just a child, Gaela!" Twilight shot back.
"That isn't the relationship implied by the title 'assistant'."
Spike had his face in his hands, and he groaned loudly as the argument got into full swing. For his part, he was on Twilight's side, but apparently his opinion didn't count for much in this particular matter.
"Assistant is JUST a title! I'm his caretaker! I'm practically his mother!"
"Perhaps your responsibilities do extend further than being a mere owner, but his regularly assigned tasks are appropriate for a domestic servant, not a child," Gaela explained calmly, "your people's tendency to label unpaid laborers differently does not make a substantial difference."
Twilight opened her mouth to protest, but Gaela continued before she could.
"Additionally, Spike is but one of three cases of ponies possessing 'assistants' that I am aware of. Neither Trixie or Lieutenant Blade have the excuse of their assistants being dependents."
Twilight scowled. "Dusk Blade is a slave-owning monster, there's no doubt about that. A surprisingly well-read, inquisitive, horrible monster." Twilight seemed to stare off into space for a few seconds before she suddenly shook her head and returned to the matter at hand. "He's just using the title 'assistant' to disguise his ownership."
"I think that's a fair judgment," Gaela allowed, "and what of Trixie?"
"Trixie... I don't know," Twilight admitted, "I haven't seen much of how she and Suuna interact. But they seem much closer than a piece of property and its owner. And she doesn't make Suuna wear a SHOCK COLLAR."
"So the difference between slavery and legitimate partnership is one's accessories?" Gaela asked dryly.
Twilight restrained a frustrated groan. She had wanted to meet with Gaela to discuss Spike's safety, but now they had gotten completely side-tracked. She wasn't about to relent, though.
"Okay, I think the problem is that your idea of 'slave' is too broad," Twilight reasoned, "for example, are YOU a slave?"
"Of course not," Gaela said, her eye narrowing.
"Why not? You don't earn a salary, like the contract mercenaries or menials. You were brought into the 38th Company under threat of violence. Your service here is coerced," the alicorn pointed out.
"I am a Dark Techpriest," Gaela replied evenly, "my labor is compensated with materials and mechanical knowledge."
"Which you end up using to build more machines for other people! And whatever title they attach to the job has no bearing on whether your labor is forced, does it?"
"It isn't."
"You told me and Rarity that you left your world because, quote, 'an Astartes pointed a boltgun at me and told me to.'"
Woman and mare had another silent staring contest. Spike drummed his claws against the table.
"... There might have been more to it than that," Gaela admitted reluctantly, "I do not resent my service within the Dark Mechanicus, nor do I have any aspirations outside the 38th Company."
"So if your consent makes the difference between slavery and... whatever else you would call kidnapping enemy workers and forcing them to serve you... then it's the same for Spike!" Twilight concluded. "Right, Spike?"
"Actually, no," the dragon said, causing Twilight to recoil. Then he pointed to Gaela. "Twilight has a point; your case is actually way worse than mine. Nobody's ever threatened to hurt me if I didn't work! How AREN'T you a slave under those conditions?"
"Because I wanted to serve Chaos," Gaela said, as if the answer was obvious.
"Because an Iron Warrior threatened you?" Twilight asked.
Gaela didn't say anything for several seconds. "That wasn't the ONLY reason," she mumbled.
"Then what was it?" Spike asked. "Now I'm really curious!"
Gaela paused again. "That's a rather... complex matter."
"Well, I'd like to hear about it," Twilight said decisively, "I can't really imagine joining an army of evil, fanatical super-soldiers that just showed up on my planet one day with guns blazing."
"That is exactly what happened to you," Gaela deadpanned.
"... Right. Well, there were circumstances, though," Twilight backtracked quickly.
"As there were for me, as well," Gaela replied, "I doubt you really want to hear the full story..."
Judging by the eager expressions on Spike and Twilight's face, Gaela had to consider that she may have misjudged their interest. The way that Twilight had produced a dataslate and stylus seemingly from nowhere also seemed to betray some slight enthusiasm.
"Do you really want to hear it?" the cyborg asked, clearly perplexed.
"Of course I want to hear it!" Twilight said, already writing feverishly on the dataslate. "Gaela, you hardly ever talk about your past!"
"It's hardly very interesting," the woman confessed, "there are many worthwhile details in my past life, such as knowledge about the inner workings of various technologies and mysteries of the Cult Mechanicus, but I can't tell you those parts in any detail." She finally took a chair, resting her heavier left arm on the projection table. "Most of the rest of it is just petty tripe about tech-heresy, my interest in smuggling forbidden artifacts, my subsequent persecution by the Magi, the Tau incursions, and the attack by the 38th Company. Utterly irrelevant to you, I'm sure."
Twilight stared for some ten seconds or so before she spoke. "Humor us."
"Fine. I can spare a few hours, if you really have nothing better to do." She cleared her throat lightly. "As you know, I was born on the forge world Starhaven..."

****

Starhaven - Skitarii practice yards

My training axe sparked as it cleaved through a fencing servitor, hammering two of its shoulder assemblies aside and breaking them. The other two limbs were already aiming to spear me, but my practice target was off-balance from my strike and had to take a moment to adjust.
I took advantage of the diversion and rammed my shoulder into the servitor, knocking it back.
The blades stabbed forward before I could turn away, and I felt a painful shock as one of them connected.
+Contact confirmed. End match. Time is 19.22 seconds.+
+My match time is regressing. Troubling,+ I murmured, standing up straight. The lingering pain from the shock baton faded as I stepped away from the practice cage with axe in hand.
+You're too aggressive,+ warned a Skitarii overseer, +you prioritize the destruction of the target over your own survival.+
I raised an eyebrow at him, pausing on my way to the changing room.
+While that is an acceptable attitude,+ the cyborg warrior continued, +maximum efficiency in combat demands that you destroy the enemy AND survive to face the next one.+
+Mm. Agreed,+ I decided, looking over my training axe thoughtfully.
+However, your combat proficiency is adequate for a field Enginseer. Your upcoming evaluation is in no danger of failure.+
+I would prefer a better rating than 'adequate',+ I replied as I hung up the weapon.
+Then you may wish to practice further, Adept.+
+I have an alternate appointment,+ I grumbled to the overseer, +adequate will have to do. For now.+

After I changed into my robes - dark red with white trim, the colors of the loyalist Mechanicus - I headed down the citadel-spire and into the city.
The air of Starhaven is completely toxic, the pollutants churned out by the manufactorums having entirely replaced any viable atmosphere. Oxygen tanks are required just to walk the streets, and the most common form of death - both accidental and not - was suffering mask failure while outdoors.
"It really does seem like you humans could afford to treat the environment a little better."
Such ideas find little traction when there are thousands of planets with viable atmospheres yet to be expended, and simple individual solutions such as oxygen rebreathers exist. If we can create a viable environment in the depths of the void, we can create it anywhere.
"Okay, but still, to ruin an entire PLANET'S air and render it unbreathable..."
We had to make a choice between a healthy biosphere and volcano cannons, Sparkle, and I for one have no regrets.
I made my way into the spire-city, and eventually met an associate of mine outside a water processing plant.
His name was Tolar, a fellow Adept and enthusiast.
"Enthusiast? Enthusiast of what?"
That will be explained.
+You are two-point-eight-three minutes early, Gaela. Eager?+ Tolar asked.
+Foot traffic down the refining temple secundus was agreeable,+ I replied, +what is the situation?+
Tolar was of the same rank as I, but had no augmentations yet besides his binary vocalizer and a servo harness. We both aspired to become Secutors, Techpriests specializing in armed conflict and combat duty. We had a great deal in common.
"So, was he your coltfriend or something? Wait, no... manfriend? What would a human call it?"
"Boyfriend" is the vernacular, I believe. Also, no. The term has certain connotations regarding sexual interaction and physical affection. I can assure you that I have never experienced such crude and revolting flesh-yearning.
"Oh. Well, he was still your friend, though, right?"
Insofar as we used each other's skills and opportunities to mutual benefit, yes, I suppose you could call him my friend. There were even occasions in which I found his presence tolerable despite not being directly useful to me.
"... Close enough. What were you meeting him for?"
A xeno presence had been detected the previous day, and the infiltrators apprehended that very morning. I was not privy to all the details, but ultimately three Tau had been found among a trading vessel.
"Tau? Geez, those guys are always causing trouble, aren't they?"
Indeed. Starhaven is relatively close to Tau space, so it has proven a point of strategic interest in the Imperium's dealings with the aliens. And my own.

Our first stop was the high plaza, the vast space atop the tower that linked the city's numerous mag-rail lines.
As we approached, it became obvious that there was some sort of major disturbance going on. Were I connected to the noosphere actively I would have known exactly what was happening, but my current engagement necessitated that my movements remain covert.
When we got close enough, however, it became obvious what the affair was about.
+And there they are,+ Tolar mumbled in Binaric Cant, +sorry-looking dolts, aren't they?+
In the middle of a large crowd of menials and Tech-Adepts, a huge walking platform was moving in a tight circle. Atop it were two Techpriests shouting into the crowd: one in Low Gothic, one in Binaric Cant.
On the platform behind them were three Tau of the water caste, as well as six humans. They all had proper oxygen masks, but all of them were tightly bound and kneeling, and at the back there was a Skitarii Myrmidon holding their chains.
"LOOK WELL, SERVANTS OF THE OMNISSIAH!!" the Techpriests shouted to the crowd. "ENEMIES OF HUMANITY, THE IMPERIUM, AND THE HOLY OMNISSIAH MAKE BERTH IN OUR MOST SACRED SHIPYARDS!! XENO FILTH FROM BEYOND OUR BORDERS CORRUPT THE MINDS OF THE WEAK-MINDED AND GREEDY!!"
The Myrmidon gave one of the human prisoners a "light" kick, shattering several ribs and sending the man into a fit of screaming.
"THESE HAPLESS FOOLS HAVE BROUGHT THIS ALIEN SCUM HERE TO SWAY US TO THEIR WAYS!! TO 'TEACH' US THEIR WRETCHED HERESY!! TO DAMN US IN THE EYES OF THE MACHINE GOD!!"
He went on like that for some time as the crowd cheered and roared, demanding justice and death. The Tau were talking as well, some pleading with the crowd and one to their captors, but anything they said was drowned out by the vox-casters. I personally found it quite funny; since the Techpriest speaking in Binaric Cant had to pontificate at more or less the same rate as the one speaking Gothic, his speech sound amusingly halting and awkward.
+Let's go,+ Tolar said, moving to leave.
+What, you don't want to watch?+ I asked. +Are we behind schedule?+
+Negative,+ Tolar bleated, +but I have no desire to see a lynching. If I have my way, soon I'll be able to see xenos being slaughtered all I want.+
Really, Tolar was hardly the least pleasant of peers, but he had no sense of humor.
"Sen... Sense of... Se..."
Is something wrong?
"Twi's brain is just skipping. It happens sometimes. You can keep going, she'll catch up."
+I'd rather wait here and watch the heretics suffer than wait at the contact point,+ I said with a shrug.
Tolar stared at me silently as the Techpriests continued ranting, his eyes hard. I sensed that he had something to say and was weighing whether or not to say it.
He leaned in, his Binaric emerging as a barely audible buzz. +You realize that could be us up there some day, don't you?+
+Affirmative,+ I replied as I leaned against my axe, +I find it... instructive.+
Suddenly, the roar of the crowd grew louder, and the walking platform halted in place.
"FOR HERETICS, WE OFFER THE HOLY JUSTICE OF MARS!!" screeched the Techpriests. Then the Myrmidon reached down and ripped off their oxygen masks one by one.
"What? That's how they execute them? By asphyxiation? That's horrible!"
Ah, Sparkle, you're back. Good.
+Hmm. Boring,+ I turned on my heel and walked past Tolar, +I thought they might at least make their deaths creative. Let's go.+
Tolar made a disapproving buzzing noise as he followed me away from the plaza.
We descended further into the city, the wild and raucous cheers of the crowd fading behind us.

****

Ferrous Dominus - sector 4, Dark Mechanicus Temple Primarus

"Those were water caste Tau, right? The ones that do diplomacy?" Twilight asked.
"Affirmative. Most likely they had intended to infiltrate the planet under the protection of the traders, teaching them the ways of the Greater Good and spreading their ideology. The Tau have been known to convert entire planets to their empire just by having their diplomats ply their trade for a few years, talking up the planet's elite." Gaela snorted contemptuously.
"Well, they sure didn't use that tactic with US," Spike groused.
"Correct. Appealing to your people with the intention of then inviting an Ork invasion to your planet would have probably generated some... controversy within the ranks of the diplomatic caste," Gaela shrugged, "that, and the Tau clearly didn't have a proper survey of your world. The Lamman Sept is quite a brash coalition, it would seem."
"Okay, I get that, but why were your people so hostile to a diplomatic envoy?" Twilight asked. "So hostile that they'd even kill the humans that sponsored them, too?"
"Planets everywhere in the Imperium deal with intelligent xenos on a 'shoot first, don't ask questions ever' basis. It is a testament to the skill of the water caste that they ever manage to find a human that won't throttle them on sight," Gaela explained. "Forge worlds are not just massive factory-planets, but also temples, places of worship. Their people are quite hostile to foreign ideas, more so than other Imperial planets."
"So what were you doing, anyway?" Spike asked. "It sounds like something pretty sketchy."
"Affirmative. You see, I have interests that the Adeptus Mechanicus - to say nothing of the greater Imperium - consider heretical and traitorous."
"Well, DUH," Twilight offered.
"I meant BEFORE my introduction to Chaos," Gaela snapped. Then she cleared her throat. "I had a very substantial interest in xenotech."
The purple pony furrowed her forehead. "... Wait... why would that be considered traitorous or heretical? Studying foreign technology isn't allowed?"
"It is. Under certain conditions," Gaela admitted, "the Mechanicus approach to the regulation of studying alien technologies is extremely complex, convoluted, and needlessly strict. Such are the numerous decrees and unwritten rules regarding the subject that even those projects that are sanctioned and undertaken rarely lead to any knowledge of worth. And actually REPRODUCING alien technology is absolutely forbidden." She sighed. "Out of all the heresies and atrocities taken up by the Dark Mechanicus, the abolition of the regulatory bureaucracy has been by far the most productive."
"Okay, but you studied this stuff anyway?" Spike asked.
"Affirmative. And with a Tau envoy having been captured that day, there were samples to be acquired."

****

Starhaven - scrapyard sub-deck

+There. That's the contact,+ Tolar blurted tightly as he spotted a menial lounging against a bundle of iron rebar, +I'm not familiar with this one, so stay aware.+
+Hm. Of course,+ I mumbled, scanning the piles of junk with my augmetic eye. I spotted a shielded material case almost immediately, clumsily hidden under a few scraps of metal sheeting. If we wanted to, we could have killed this fool and taken the artifacts.
The man nodded at us as we approached, his eyes lingering on Tolar.
"Hello, friend. The only good Eldar is a dead Eldar," Tolar said.
"And even then, we'd still prefer they never lived in the first place," the menial replied with a smile.
"Ooh, is that some sort of secret code?"
No. That was just Tolar's attempt at small-talk. He wanted to get to know the man before doing business. A waste of time, I know.
"Let's get on with this," I said impatiently as I withdrew a small metal disk case from my robes, "this contains the schematica for the drive components. You could almost build a complete set of engines from this data."
The menial shrugged and moved to take the disk. I tossed it up out of his reach, and then my servo arm grabbed it out of the air to hold it out of reach.
"Where are the artifacts?" I asked coldly.
"Right. Fine. Come here," the menial grumbled, clearly nervous. He really was new at this, it seemed.
He collected an armory case from the "hiding spot" I had noticed earlier, and then placed it on top of a crate.
"Here you are. I assume you have the access code to unlock it?" the man grunted.
Tolar took out a modified auspex and held it over the case for a few seconds.
"I don't think you're going to be able to scan the interior without opening it," the menial confessed, "it's shielded from-"
"Did anyone tamper with this case?" Tolar asked suddenly.
The menial looked startled. "Tamper with it? What?"
"Did anyone other than you or Nerridian handle this case?" Tolar clarified.
Our contact paused to think. "... Not really. I mean, I had to hand it over at a checkpoint briefly, but they didn't open it up. Nerridian said that-"
The menial didn't manage to finish his explanation. Tolar's servo arm lurched forward, seizing the man's head, while his hands grabbed the contact's shoulders. The vise claw twisted, snapping his neck and silencing a muffled scream.
"Wow. That escalated quickly."
All I could do was blink. +Did we just kill him so that we wouldn't have to pay? Are we doing that now?+
+The case has been marked! This is a trap!+ Tolar blurted, drawing his laspistol.
I snapped my head around as I heard the humming noise of a tiny repulsor motor, and I too drew my laspistol. A pair of servo-skulls were hovering into the scrapyard, their optical recorders glowing brightly.
I bracketed the first one in my augment reticule, and then speared it though the forehead with a lasbolt. Tolar shot at the other skull, but his first two shots went wide.
The skull detected it was under attack and started bobbing through the air as it hovered. A third and a fourth shot missed.
Honestly, Tolar just wasn't a very good shot.
I finally blasted the second skull, and quickly put the disk of contraband back in my robes. +You should really consider getting an augmetic eye, Tolar. Or two, ideally.+
+Not now, Gaela! Let's move!+ he yelled, sprinting down through the scrapyard. He seemed to think that we had a better chance for escape if we stuck to the lower levels of the complex, where there was much less foot traffic.
He might have been right; for all we knew, there might have been even MORE enforcers coming for us the other way.
+White hound automata!+ I hissed as my augmetic eye detected an electromagnetic signature around the bend. There was no other way to go, and if we tried to run, it would catch up to us easily.
Tolar skidded to a halt, and then he sucked in a breath. +All right, be calm. Maybe they haven't identified us, yet.+
I slowed to a purposeful walk and we both rounded the corner.
Before us stood a quadrupedal machine about the size and shape as a Kroot hound, but obviously much better armored. Its tail was an electric whip, and thick white plating covered its fibrous wire-bundle legs, giving the pattern its name. Its jaws lacked sharp teeth, being rubber-lined clamps for holding targets without tearing flesh; these machines were meant to seek and immobilize, not kill.
+White hound designation 399141!+ Tolar buzzed. +There are suspects in the scrapyard! Identify and engage immediately! Authorization code tertius alpha!+
The automata looked up at us, its single blue-light optic staring as it processed Tolar's commands.
+Negative. Authorization rescinded,+ the machine buzzed back in its own stunted machine code dialect. +Submit to proc-+
My mono-molecular-edged axe slammed hard into the automata's shoulder, cleaving through to the machine's chest just below the neck. I kicked it in the side of the head, wrenching my weapon free as sparks washed over my robes like a bloodspray made of golden light.
"Bad dog," I grumbled, clasping the axe in both hands before swinging it down in a decapitating strike.
The shriek of tearing metal filled the air, followed by a sharp buzzing noise as the CPU was brutally disconnected from its power source.
After taking a deep breath, I drew my laspistol again and stepped over the automata's remains. +I'm just saying, Tolar, it's past time for you to get serious about your augmentations. Do you not hope to replace ALL your flesh with machine augments someday?+
Tolar didn't answer right away. He was still staring at the automata.
+... This was a mistake,+ he said weakly.
+You're just trying to change the subject again,+ I accused, +also, hurry up. I doubt the enforcers only have one Hound available.+
Tolar seemed to stagger forward, as if in a daze.
"You took sudden outbreaks of violence and potential death as calmly then as you do now, didn't you?"
Not at all, really. I get a lot more worked up nowadays about my potential demise than I used to. I have more to lose.
+You destroyed it! You actually attacked and destroyed an enforcer automata!+ Tolar complained as we continued rushing through the scrapyard.
+Oh, so what? You killed the menial,+ I pointed out.
+That was different! He wasn't a security asset!+ my companion protested.
+Not on purpose, at any rate,+ I muttered as new signals started coming up on my augmetic eye, +but seriously, I think we should talk about your options for bionic replacements.+
Another Hound rounded the corner, and I shot it twice before it managed to lunge at me. My axe smashed it out the air just as another followed behind it.
+Finish that one off!+ I blurted at my companion as I rushed the next hound.
I fired my pistol, but this time the machine dodged, leaping to the side and then lunging low. Again I swung my axe, scoring a hit against its side but unable to stop it before it clamped its jaws around my leg.
Its tail snaked forward, and I released a muffled scream as a surge of electricity poured into me. My muscles locked up, and my augmetic started to return scrambled data.
Sparks were pouring off of my axe-arm, so I pressed the lasgun in my flesh-hand to the automata's head and fired into the side of its processor housing. The laser bolt penetrated, and a puff of smoke blasted out of the automata's cranial module.
But the shot didn't disable it. Another paralyzing shock hit me before I could finish it off, and the pistol slipped free of my twitching fingers.
+You will su-su-su-su-submit to proooooocessing!+ the automata stuttered at me, probably due to the damage.
Then a servo arm clamped onto the enforcer machine's neck.
+Let's see if this works on automata, too!+ Tolar grunted as he grabbed onto the hound's body and then twisted his servo limb.
A sickening grinding noise came from the automata as its head was wrenched free of its body, and my leg was freed from the grip of its jaws. At least, I presumed so; I couldn't really feel my leg right then.
+They're both down,+ Tolar said, his breath heaving from behind his mask, +are we clear?+
+Give me a minute,+ I protested, my breath still weak, +my augmetic read-outs are still rebooting.+
Then the wall we were next to exploded outward. Tolar was blasted off his feet, and it was all I could do to turn my face away from the crumbling ferrocrete as I was buffeted by the blast.
After a few seconds I rolled my head over again to confirm the presence of a new opponent.
A Mechanicus Secutor stood over the smoking ruin, his weapons hot and his optics whirling. He was a hunch-backed beast of metal and ordnance, his arms having been replaced with laser weapons and every shred of flesh covered over with heavy plating. His head was suspended in the front, and almost completely given over to optics clusters and power cabling. A red shroud covered everything, like all Techpriests wore, but his was shredded from shrapnel and heat dispersal.
"And you wanted to BE one of those things?"
Oh, I still do, to an extent. There isn't nearly as much need for them in the Dark Mechanicus, sadly, what with us being under the protection of the Chaos Space Marines. Ah, well.
+Secutor Durendall,+ I gasped out painfully, waving my servo arm as I read his noosphere tag, +greetings. I believe I am ready to submit for processing, now.+
Tolar groaned.

****

Starhaven - penitence block 17

It was two days before I saw anybody after I was incarcerated for my adventure near the scrapyards. Two days spent with chains binding my every limb taught between the ceiling, floors, and walls. My servo arm was jammed, and my augmetic eye data-scrambled. The only other thing I received during my incarceration was a drip-feed of water, to remain minimally hydrated.
"By Celestia... Gaela..."
I was surprised as well. I had little idea how I had gotten off so lightly.
"Lightly?!"
I received my answer some fifty hours after being locked up. My cell door opened, and a woman entered whom I was quite unfamiliar with. Nonetheless, I knew who she was. Everybody in the city did.
+Magos Gaien. Either you have the wrong cell, or I am in far more trouble than I had anticipated,+ I buzzed at her in Binaric Cant.
Magos Gaien was the Techpriest in charge of the Starhaven shipyards. Although her fief was all part of the holdings of the Archmagos, it was still an enormously important operation, and her personal power was accordingly substantial.
Suffice to say, I had no idea why Gaien was seeing me, unless my activities had somehow offended her directly. I supposed it was possible that Tolar and I had attempted to purchase an artifact that she, herself wanted to acquire.
Magos Gaien didn't say anything at first, merely circling around me while staring intently. Her legs had long ago been replaced by an anti-grav system, while her face was a white, magno-ceramic mask. The mask was somewhat unsettling, I recall: an unmoving mold of a woman's organic face, completely smooth and undisturbed by augmentation, with its lips slightly parted in an expression of perpetual mild amusement. With her robes dragging along the floor of the cell as she circled me, she gave the distinct impression of a ghost from old Terran mysticism.
"Adept Gaela," she said finally, speaking in High Gothic for some reason, "you're not as impressive or dangerous-looking as your profile suggests."
+This position makes it difficult to impress, Magos. I'm certain I could greet you better if I could stand.+
The eyes of Gaien's mask flashed green.
Suddenly the wall-mounted anchors to my chains shifted, with some sliding back, some forward, and others loosening their attached bonds. I was dropped onto the floor before my legs were pulled into a seated position, and my head was yanked back so that I stared up at the Magos.
"Ah. Better. You still don't look impressive or dangerous, but looking obedient will do."
+I am... pleased... you are... pleased... Magos,+ I stuttered through clenched teeth. Having my body wrenched about and folded so suddenly and forcibly hurt a great deal.
"Speak Gothic, Adept. Let me hear your real voice," Gaien commanded.
I thought it was a strange demand, but I had no particular reason not to comply.
"Yes, Magos. Uh... can I help you?" I said awkwardly. I still didn't know why the Magos was here.
"Affirmative," she snipped, as if the simple affirmation was a sarcastic response, "I'm sure you're wondering what's going on right now, Adept Gaela."
"My noosphere access has been regrettably crippled since my imprisonment, yes," I mumbled, "are you here to present me with the charges of my crime?"
"Negative," Gaien mumbled with subtle amusement. Her voice was entirely artificial, her real vocal chords having been long since replaced by augmetics. Yet it was still curiously rich in tone, providing a wealth of auditory cues and impressions that were all but lost on me.
"This is not your trial. This is your sentencing," Gaien declared.
"Ah. I see," I mumbled, "may I ask how I or my crime warrants sentencing by a Magos Primarus?"
"All will be explained," she assured me, completing another circle around my helpless form before she stopped in front of me.
Then a mechadendrite slithered out of her robes and touched its manipulator claw to my forehead.
"You have been charged with, and found guilty of, deliberately damaging the property of the Enforcer Corps Fellix Betus," she said, her tone rising as if she was speaking to someone other than me.
"...... Ah. You ARE in the wrong room," I decided. "It's understandable. Gaela is a fairly common name. Although I'm surprised tha-"
"Stop talking," Gaien snapped. I obeyed. "You may recognize that the crime I just listed is... not the most serious charge that one could accuse you and your colleague of given the circumstances of your arrest."
"I'm pretty sure I committed blatant and obvious tech-heresy," I stated, completely confused, "and I resisted processing. And used lethal force against Enfor-"
"My earlier command demanding silence is still in effect," Gaien deadpanned, "in addition, when you are convicted of a minor offense, it is quite unhelpful to respond by confessing guilt to several more serious ones."
She had a point, so I simply quirked my eyebrow and awaited an explanation.
"You may not impress in person, but your record is better than average. You're well on your way to passing your trials to make Enginseer. Or were, at any rate."
I sighed. "I don't suppose the academy accepts legally sanctioned imprisonment as a legitimate reason to postpone advancement trials? I doubt I'll be free in time to make my appointment."
Gaien laughed. I found it quite unsettling and strange.
"What, was her voice all creepy with vox-static or something? Or did it seem weird because her mouth didn't move?"
Nothing like that. I just didn't hear laughter very often. I did grow up in the Cult Mechanicus, after all.
"You're an amusing one, Gaela. And quite vicious, as well. You remind me of myself," the Magos said brightly, "as is appropriate for one bearing my gene-build."
"Gasp! She was your mother?!"
What? No. She was merely the contributor of half my genetic codex. I was produced in a gene-factory, after all. She provided her sex cells to be combined artificially with those contributed by male adepts, and I happened to be the product of one such procedure.
"... On our planet, we call those mothers. I mean, there's usually a bunch of other relationships implied by that, but the only literal requirement is having provided half your genetic material."
Oh. Well... okay, yes, when you put it that way, I suppose she was.
"That seriously never occurred to you until just now?"
Can I get back to the story?
Despite your apparent fascination with this twist, the revelation that I was a product of Gaien's gene-build was completely irrelevant to me. I'd never known who were the particular contributors to my genetic codex, and I'd never cared. The relationship implied by genetic lineage simply didn't exist in Starhaven's culture.
"That is why I'm here today, Gaela," the Magos said, "and why you're here today, as well. Obviously, there are those who would have wished a more severe punishment upon you for your transgressions, but I have intervened."
"Because I'm amusing and vicious?" I asked.
She laughed again. I shuddered at the sound. "No, Adept. Because you're of my gene-build."
"Are you SURE it's a cultural thing? Because I could completely believe that you uniquely had no concept of what motherhood or family is like or why you should care about it. This Magos sounds-"
Quiet, Sparkle.
Gaien's head tilted to the side. "Tell me, Adept Gaela: why do you engage in behavior that is obviously tantamount to tech-heresy?"
"To advance the pursuit of knowledge, the sacred quest of the Cult Mechanicus," I said without hesitation. This question I was prepared for. "The Mechanicus demands we seek out knowledge to improve ourselves, the Cult, and the Imperium of Man, and seek the truth that will grant us the insight into the workings of the Omnissiah." I clenched my teeth. "Yet the rest of the doctrine of the Cult Mechanicus is dedicated to hampering this goal. We cannot seek knowledge that is developed by aliens. Heresy. We cannot create artificial intelligence. Heresy. We cannot test Cult doctrine! Heresy! We cannot utilize psychic ability to any useful degree! Heresy! Heresy! Heresy!" I clenched my teeth, letting a glimmer of real anger show. "The doctrine of the Cult Mechanicus is backward, myopic, and contradictory! It cripples our efforts in the very quest it demands of us! That is why I disobey! That is why I hunt scraps of xeno technology, just so I can learn about something that isn't so useless and ancient as to be deemed 'safe' and 'pure' by the Magi! There is an entire galaxy of secrets waiting for us, Magos! But this, THIS is the reward for trying to seek any true enlightenment!" I tugged on my chains for emphasis.
Gaien watched in silence as I finished my monologue, my breath heaving.
"Oh, my. It seems I touched upon a nerve," the Magos mumbled, "don't misunderstand, Adept. I don't particularly care why you violated the tenets of the Cult Mechanicus, although I'm glad they turned out to be so naïve and self-righteous. It would be a problem if I had an actual rebel set loose, after all."
The more Magos Gaien spoke, the more confused I became. What did she WANT from me?
"Regardless, from here on, I'm going to have to ask you not to commit anymore tech-heresy," she chided.
I frowned. "You said you were setting me loose. Why?"
"Because, obviously, I cannot have my gene-print associated with a heretic," she said, as if she really thought it was obvious.
"... I still don't understand," I mumbled. It wasn't as if Gaien had instructed me or in any way contributed to my upbringing. How did it reflect upon her if one of the products of her egg harvestings was charged as a heretic?
"My gene-products have a consistently higher performance profile than that of other magi on Starhaven," she said. Looking back, I think she was trying to convey pride in her voice. "11.8% higher efficiency ratings. 20.3% higher combat ratings. 8.9% higher academic progression." She shook her head. "I've done some things to help out here and there, mostly in resource procurement and task placement. But I simply couldn't stand by while one of my gene products was fit to be tried for tech-heresy. Such an outlier could not be ignored. So I had the more severe charges removed."
My biological eye must have been quite wide, because I was stunned by the admission. My entirely unjustified salvation had come about thanks to the statistical vanity of an unusually powerful Magos.
"Or, you know, you could consider it a mother acting to help and protect her children."
Sparkle, seriously, stop trying to project your ridiculous equine values upon humans. We don't do stupid things like that.
"Impossible," I declared, "the servo skulls-"
"Were destroyed, and their recording signals were inexplicably corrupted. No record exists of their pict-feeds," Gaien interrupted.
"The White Hounds-"
"Acted with unnecessary aggression, targeting two innocent Tech-Adepts who nonetheless should NOT have destroyed them."
"The Secutor!"
"Happened upon you two as you were leaving the area and arrested you and your colleague as suspicious individuals, as is his duty. Nothing more." She paused. "Needless to say, it's quite fortunate that you didn't raise your hand against him. His testimony would have been far more troublesome to remove."
Suddenly, the chains started moving again, and I was wrenched up into a standing position.
"As it stands, you and your colleague happened upon a corrupt, heretical menial hawking stolen xeno-tech in a scrapyard. Although initially interested, once the nature of his wares was revealed, your partner immediately killed the menial for his heretical actions. You then made to leave the area to report this criminal act, but were aggressively accosted by a trio of Enforcer automata. You destroyed them, which is why you are to be punished." She tilted her head to the side, which generated a sharp clicking noise. "Incidentally, that other Adept Tolar has also avoided harsher indictment. He chose his partner well, it would seem."
"And it's not a problem that this account is false and severely understates my crimes?" I grunted.
"It's only a problem if you make it one, Adept Gaela," Gaien said, backing away, "but I hardly think you're of a mindset to demand justice for your crimes that you don't believe should be crimes." She paused again. "That said, I do hope you understand that this is not license for you to do as you please. I cannot, and will not, intervene to save you from your own foolishness again. The rules and taboos of our order exist for a reason, and ignorance of those reasons is not license to disobey them."
I scowled. "Very well. Then let me out of here. I'll see to my Enginseer trials and then be out of Starhaven - and beyond your concern - as soon as possible."
Magos Gaien emitted a scrambled, electronic sigh. "No, Gaela, you won't. Your crime, though minor, still warrants punishment. Your trials are to be postponed indefinitely."
To be fair, that was literally the least severe punishment I could have hoped for, but I still couldn't help but scowl in frustration. I didn't have too much in the way of ambition, but it seemed that what few goals I had were dashed.
"You and Adept Tolar are to be moved from your current station," Magos Gaien continued, "to my shipyards. You will perform your labors there until such time that it is felt you have sufficiently atoned for your errors and are truly ready to advance upon the path once more."
"More of your leniency, Magos?" I snapped. I remember wishing at the time that she would let me speak in Binary. Using words makes it much harder to restrain my emotions.
"Affirmative. I think I need to keep an eye on you, Adept."
The Magos turned toward the door, and it started sliding open. "This is your second chance, Gaela. Do not waste it."

****

Ferrous Dominus - sector 4, Dark Mechanicus Temple Primarus

Gaela looked distinctly irritated as she drummed her bionic fingers against the projector table. "So, as you can see, my 'rebellion' against the principles and religious mores of those who had created and raised me had precedent before any element of coercion was introduced."
"Was working in the shipyards bad?" Spike asked.
"No. In fact, many Adepts would have considered it a promotion. Especially with the knowledge that the administrator favored them in order to burnish their genetic credentials."
Twilight's stylus frantically scratched at the panel of her dataslate while wrapped in a purple aura.
"I still think it's possible she just saw you as a daughter, to some extent," Twilight insisted, "preference for one's genetic lineage is a very common survival trait. I'd be surprised if humans didn't have it to one extent or another."
"Sparkle, I'm not going to argue with you about this," Gaela deadpanned, "such irrational instincts based in reproductive biology are anathema to members of Cult Mechanicus, whether of the Imperial or Chaotic allegiance. Gaien did not get to be a Magos by indulging her petty, useless, so-called 'emotions'."
Twilight rolled her eyes. "All right, Gaela. Fine. Have it your way. I guess she just covered up your crimes and got you a job under her supervision to make her graphs look neat and orderly."
"You mock me, but far worse things have been done for the sake of smoothing out spreadsheets in the Adeptus Mechanicus," Gaela grumbled.
"So, what did you do in the shipyards?" Spike asked, leaning over the edge of the table.
"Repaired and maintained the shipyard machinery, mostly," Gaela said, "my days were spent performing rites of maintenance and divining errors within the loading automata engrams."
The Dark Techpriest frowned. "It was productive and rewarding work for a Tech-Adept, but I was not content. All of the xeno-tech artifacts that I had previously acquired had 'mysteriously' vanished upon my release from penitentiary. My notes had been destroyed. Although I had been absolved of the crime of pursuing knowledge deemed heretical, it was not because of any effort or rationale I had provided. My work to unravel the mechanisms of Tau engineering was still considered deviant and criminal, and the disappearance of my notes and materials was an unsubtle condemnation of interests I was convinced were legitimate."
"I have to agree with that, at least," Twilight said, taking a moment to organize her notes in the dataslate's memory bank, "a prohibition against investigating alien technology seems completely unnecessary." Then her eyes narrowed. "To say nothing of the bias against psychic power."
"To be fair, mankind's history with psykers is not as... benign as I imagine yours to be," Gaela shrugged.
"I'm sure. So how did you come to work for the 38th Company, Gaela?"
The cyborg leaned back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling with an expression that very nearly approached melancholy.
"I was in the wrong place at the right time, it would seem," Gaela said after a moment, "Tolar - whom I had seen precious little of since our arrest and re-assignment - and I were only stationed in the shipyards for three months before an unusually large trader fleet translated in-system. Clustered around a megafreighter, the fleet transmitted valid clearance codes and requested permission to dock for the purpose of exchange and resupply. Our auger relays didn't detect anything amiss, so they were granted permission to dock."
Spike gulped.
"Most of the shipyard crews didn't know anything was wrong until the first reports of shooting came from the loading facilities. In the meantime, I was performing an investigation on the aforementioned auger relays, and happened to find something very interesting..."

****

Starhaven - dockyard complex central logis nexus

+I've found the problem,+ I blurted to the two attendant Techpriests poring over a long drum of parchment covered over with code printouts, +here. A quarantined error code in string 3991-45.+
The heavy hum of machines surrounded us as my supervisors quickly rolled the drum of parchment to the code sequence I had referenced. They spent a few seconds glancing over it, and one of them bleated in the negative.
+Refutation: This is a foreign error string that's been properly quarantined, as per protocol. Conclusion: It's merely part of the aberrant rise in junk code we detected. You are in error.+
+It's not PART of the data dump that you detected, it's the cause of it,+ I insisted, +look at the code itself. It looks suspiciously like a program.+
+Rebuke: Exposure to quarantined scrapcode is a violation of operating procedure,+ the Techpriest countered.
+But I did it anyway,+ I replied, +you didn't ask me to help so that I could just follow the same rote procedures you already tried, did you?+
The other Techpriest thankfully interjected before I could continue arguing with my superior. +Interrogative: Why did you investigate that particular code string?+
+Its intercept occurred point-zero-three-nine seconds before the data dump. The timing was convenient,+ I answered with a shrug. Then I pointed to another long line of code. +As soon as it appeared, several other small changes were made in numerous data packets. They were all marked as corrupted and quarantined.+
+Affirmation: That is precisely how the logic engine's guardian engram is designed to function. So that flawed programs or data packets cannot infect the larger part of the system,+ the first Techpriest reminded me.
+Affirmative. However, the timing was so precise, and the corruption so minute, that it almost seems like the scrapcode program was trying to provoke that response rather than make any fundamental change in the system that would raise a much more obvious alert,+ I concluded.
+Rumination: To what end?+
I considered the question at length as I stared at the long, heavy roll of parchment spread over the table.
+All of the corrupted packets are related. They're all scraps of data from the auger relays. If I am correct, and it is a program, it seems like it was specifically forcing the logic engine to discard data elements from its scanning results.+
The Techpriests turned toward each other.
+Vacillation: This hypothesis seems unlikely, but may be worth additional investigation.+
+Corollary: My primary concern is the loss of specific data packets. What did the stripped code contain? What data are the auger relays missing?+
It was about at that moment that a massive plasma bolt flew by the viewport window.
We all turned toward the viewport, watching silently as three more shimmering green spheres the size of main battle tanks flew by. We couldn't tell from our angle where they hit, but needless to say, seeing any live fire in the shipyard facilities was cause for concern.
+... Revision: The Adept's hypothesis may be more likely than I had previously estimated, given recently procured evidence,+ the Techpriest blurted.
"Warning!" blared a voice from the vox caster as alarm klaxons started blaring. "Hostile forces have boarded the docking complex primarus! Docked void vessels have been recategorized as enemy units! Weapon discharges detected in sector 3, sector 4, sector 7, sector 11..."
As the droning voice continued listing breached areas of the station, I rushed to the corner of the room and took up my axe in my augmetic hand. My supervisors were having their own panicked discussion about the unexpected invasion, but I wasn't interested in sorting out the why and how of the attack.
+Well, I always did want to be a Secutor,+ I mumbled as I drew my pistol and headed toward the void docks.

I didn't make it very far before I heard the sound of a firefight. The shipyards had its own security personnel, a collection of auto-turrets, and all of the Mechanicus clergy were armed. Even so, we were unprepared. The cargo in the hallway provided ample cover for attackers, and our defense drills did not account for an enemy appearing inside the station so quickly. Any decently prepared assault force could have taken the shipyards with that advantage.
And these attackers were more than 'decently prepared'.
I slowed to a walk as I approached a corner, hearing the crack of lasguns in the hall beyond. A moment later I hear a sharp banging noise; a quick survey of the local defense network informed me that an auto-turret had just been destroyed.
I leaned out from around the corner, took a pict-capture with my augmetic optical, and then ducked back out of sight immediately before any potential enemy could fire at me.
Taking a moment to study the pict, I was genuinely shocked to see three humans in dirty, heavy coats and respirator masks covering behind crates and toting lasrifles. I had assumed that any attack would come from xeno forces. Was the planetary population rebelling? Unlikely. Pirates, possibly, but they'd have to be insane to assault an actual shipyard.
Unless, of course, they were allied to a greater power.
A closer inspection of one of the masked fighters gave me my answer. I could see an amulet hanging from around his neck, bearing a symbol universally despised in the Imperium: the Star of Chaos.
+Traitors, is it? Interesting.+
I leaned out and snapped off several shots, but my opponents were already well-fortified behind the stacks of crates, and their lasrifles were far stronger than my pistol. I did not have powered armor at the time, either, so I could not easily weather a charge. The fusillade quickly forced me back behind the corner.
"Frag out!" yelled one of the enemies.
With advanced warning of an incoming grenade, I quickly found an empty metal crate that looked thick enough to withstand a grenade blast. When the explosive charge hit the wall opposite me and bounced to my feet, I immediately slammed the crate down over it.
The resulting explosion made the crate jump slightly more than I was comfortable with, but none of the projectile shrapnel pierced it.
"Did that get him?"
"I barely heard the detonation! You get a dud or something?"
As they debated my apparent fate, I looked over my options. I almost certainly had a chance of victory in close combat, but there was an uncomfortable amount of floor to cover between the corner and the enemy. I had to find a way to divert or stop their fire for a few seconds.
"Or you could retreat, find some allies, and try holding a more advantageous position."
I tended to favor solutions that led to my hitting things with an axe.
"You really haven't changed much since then, have you?"
I brought up the pict-capture again, spotted a key point in the hallway, and then quickly leaned out again. I fired one shot, hitting a sensor built into the ceiling in every stretch of hallway. Then I quickly moved back behind the corner to evade retaliation.
The sensor was used for many things: detecting gunfire, tracking servitors, and managing environmental controls. But one of its most obvious and most important functions - and the reason why the enemy hadn't been shooting them out - was fire suppression.
"GAH! Damn it!" one man cursed as the ceiling vents started pouring a heavy white mist into the hall. They were all wearing respirators, so it wouldn't obstruct their breathing in any way, but it clung to their mask optics and provided a thick fog to cover my charge. I switched my vision mode to thermal-optic and made my move.
One started firing blindly down the hall as I rounded the corner, which was probably the smartest thing to do in that situation. His shots went wide, but rather than relying on luck to get me the whole way I kicked a chunk of the destroyed turret at him.
The ruined metal struck him in the shoulder, and his laser bursts suddenly fanned out over the ceiling rather than down the hall.
Then I was among them, and my axe swung onto the closest soldier, tearing through his flak armor and then his shoulder. A shot to the throat with my pistol finished him off.
The mercenary I had knocked over was getting up right next to me, and I rammed into him with my shoulder to slam him against the bulkhead wall. As I mentioned, I did not possess power armor at the time, but Mechanicus Adepts still tend to be much heavier than unaugmented humans. He let out another miserable grunt of pain, and I whirled toward the last foe.
This one had finally cleared his vision well enough to make a stab at me with his rifle bayonet, and I was not properly positioned to parry. Instead, my servo arm dropped and clamped onto the lasrifle as it stabbed into my chest, stopping the blade before it could do any serious damage. The vise crushed the barrel a moment later, destroying the weapon before he could think to discharge it while it was still stuck in me.
I shot him once, twice, and then a third time in the face. His hands finally slackened from his weapon, and his corpse fell next to that of his squadmate.
Pulling the bayonet free of my body, I was about to finish off the stunned soldier when I heard loud, metal-clad footsteps approaching from around an intersection at the end of the hall. Energized by the combat so far, I leapt to the attack, aiming to cleave the newcomer's head right from its shoulders the moment it came into view.
I swung just as the target stepped out into the hall.
An adamantium gauntlet, colored gunmetal and trimmed in beaten gold, seized the haft of my weapon in mid-swing, stopping it dead.
As I stared up into a helmet visor glowing crimson, sitting some four heads taller than my own, I decided that I had made a rather serious error.
The Iron Warrior calmly raised his battle rifle with his other arm, and I found myself staring into the finely rifled barrel of a Phobos-pattern boltgun.
"Techpriest," growled the Chaos Space Marine.
"Tech-Adept," I corrected him without thinking. Really, I figured I was about to die anyhow, so why worry about annoying him?
To my surprise, he just snorted, sounding somewhat amused. "Adept, then. Disarm."
I dropped my laspistol and let go of my axe. The Chaos Marine flung my melee weapon to the side, his bolter still trained on my face.
"Good. You serve the Iron Warriors now, Adept." He jerked his helmet down the path he had come. "This way."
The Iron Warrior ignored the men I had beaten - one of whom was certainly still alive - and led me down the hall. More soldiers passed us. Mercenaries and Iron Warriors, obviously, but I was also intrigued to see several individuals following who appeared to be Techpriests. They had the obvious bearings of Tech-clergy with their heavy augmentation and servo harnesses, but these ones wore robes that were coal black rather than dark red, and boasted icons pertaining to Chaos.
The Dark Mechanicus. I knew that such a group existed, but little more. I never imagined I'd see one of the most reviled of traitors.
We passed through several blast doors that had been, appropriately enough, blasted open. The loading docks were beyond the halls, and I could see that cargo was being frantically loaded onto an escort frigate. Teams of servitors and armed mercenaries hauled those crates marked as holding weapons supplies, but other crates were being carried by unarmed men and women being escorted by mercenaries or heavily armed Tech-clergy. Many of those captured wore the uniforms of the shipyard workers and security personnel.
"Geth!" barked my escort, shoving me forward. "I have another prisoner. A feisty one, too."
The Scavurel warrior turned to look at me, his servo claws twitching anxiously. "... Affirmative. Thank you, Lord."
The Iron Warrior turned away, leaving us. Geth approached me, and his servo arms quickly seized mine.
+Greetings, Tech-Adept Gaela,+ he said in Binaric Cant as he disabled my servo arm, +it would seem you work for us, now. I advise you to move quickly, as we're on a schedule. You're going to be helping us move cargo, or you're going to be bleeding all over the deck. Is that understood?+
+... Affirmative.+

****

Harvest of Steel - Dark Mechanicus foundries

I didn't get the details of the assault until much later, as I spent most of it loading contraband along with the rapidly growing collection of captured shipyard crew.
The strike was an unqualified success, having captured a prodigious cache of supplies and material while crippling Starhaven's production capabilities. The 38th Company fleet had been forced to face the system fleet's flagship, the Judgment of Mars, but use of the shipyard's defense turrets and the Warp rift had swiftly disabled the vessel. I don't know if the flagship was even salvageable by the time Starhaven's Skitarii defense forces had seized control of the shipyards back.
As for me, I was quickly separated from the other prisoners, along with the rest of the Tech-clergy. The 38th Company has a system for efficiently sorting prisoners into slaves, fuel, and potential recruits.
"Wait, fuel? What do you mean, fuel?"
Oh, right. You didn't know about that. It's somewhat complicated, and I don't want to interrupt the story with another irrelevant argument about ethics, so let's drop the subject for now. Suffice to say, slavery isn't the only atrocity committed by our army upon completion of a raid.
The cells used to hold captured Mechanicus cultists were isolated and small, but lacked the complex mechanisms of torture used by the Adeptus Mechanicus penitence rooms. My stay in the Harvest's brig was, ironically, far shorter and more comfortable than my imprisonment within my home temple.
It was less than a day after the assault that my cell was opened again, and I soon stood before another of my present-day acquaintances.

+Introductory: I am Dark Magos Kaelith. I command the Dark Mechanicus contingent of the Iron Warriors' 38th Company,+ buzzed the Magos. He was almost entirely augmetic, his entire body given over to segments of constructor modules such that he resembled an enormous centipede. His head was - or is, rather - a cluster of sensory systems hanging from bundles of cables. It wasn't clear what parts of him, if any, still bore any traits of sapien anatomy, much less actual biological organs.
I was deeply impressed.
+Greetings, Dark Magos. I am Tech-Adept Gaela,+ I replied affably.
He hesitated. Even among the Tech-clergy of the Mechanicus, not known for passions or emotional outbursts of any sort, my reply must have seemed bizarrely passive to him.
+Logged: Adept Gaela. Initiating recruitment protocol: You are to be offered a chance to serve the Iron Warriors, and learn the true nature of the Omnissiah.+
+Acknowledged,+ I nodded to him, +and what would be the benefits of doing so, besides the dubious prospect of learning of this "true nature"?+ I asked.
Kaelith's melta cutters quivered beneath his robes. +Ultimatum: The most immediate, practical benefit would be survival. Refusal will result in termination and the recycling of your augmetic components.+
It wasn't a great pitch, honestly. I don't know whose idea it was to let Kaelith try to recruit new Tech-clergy into the fold.
I didn't particularly want to die, nor did I have an especially deep attachment to the Adeptus Mechanicus. I did not care about the "sacredness" of my oaths to Mars, and it didn't particularly matter to me if my skills were used against the Imperium and worked to the detriment of humanity.
But I didn't relish the idea of laboring as a near-slave, either, and my years of indoctrination in the Machine Cult hadn't been a COMPLETE failure.
+I will need further data before I make this decision,+ I said simply.
Kaelith quivered some more, clearly annoyed. But without a clear rejection of the offer, he couldn't simply ignore the prospect of another potential Dark Techpriest.
+Acquiescence: Follow me.+
"When you gave me and Rarity the abridged version of this story, you said that the decision you made was between serving the Iron Warriors and dying, and that it was easy."
I did say that, and that was a gross simplification. I didn't think any of you would care to hear the complexities of my experience.
"Right, because who wants to hear a story about fighting pirates, finding the truth behind a vast, mysterious cult, and a personal struggle between religious loyalty and survival?"
Exactly. I'm still surprised neither of you have anything better to do.
"......"
Anyway, as I was taken deeper into the ship, I began to notice strange things about it. Its machine spirit, normally a conglomeration of thousands to millions of different components working in parallel networks over the body of the hull of a void ship, was far more united. Far more monolithic.
Far more AWARE.
Every device I looked at as I was marched through the halls seemed to look back, perceiving me just as easily and fully as I did it. A machine intelligence? True AI? It was possible; I was currently among heretics, after all. But somehow this felt different than I would have expected. There was something instinctive and animalistic about this machine spirit, which were traits not associated with programmed intellect.
I was more intrigued than ever. Kaelith could have just told me that I could study the ship, and I would have gladly sworn my life and soul to Chaos right there. But he didn't seem to notice, and instead took me even deeper within the vessel.
And that was when I met Warsmith Solon for the first time.
+Introductory: the head Warpsmith, and high commander of the 38th Company, Warsmith Solon.+
I froze, shuddering, as the blast doors opened, revealing Solon leaning over a large block of metal.
Where Magos Kaelith seemed almost elegant in his augmentation of his form, there was no subtlety or higher order to Solon's mechanization. His Astartes heritage, his gene-enhanced flesh that set him apart from mere mortals like me was a much-reduced shell, with augmetics and machines hammered onto him everywhere it seemed possible. Blasphemous runes decorated his armor, and the air in the corridor reeked of an affliction that had no equal in nature. A brutish monstrosity of tainted metal, corrupted flesh, and... something else. Something that I could barely perceive around the aura of suffocating terror that had swallowed me.
And yet there was something undeniably majestic about the sight. There was so much power in him, so much knowledge wired up to his chassis, tantalizing me with mere glances. Looking upon Warsmith Solon, trapped within the influence of his fear aura, I felt true excitement stir within me for the first time in a very long while.
"Eww."
"Not like that, Spike! ... At least, I hope not."
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Belatedly, I realized that Kaelith and Solon had been speaking while I had been staring. Then Warsmith Solon approached me directly, staring down at me through his optics cluster.
"Sho, you ashk to shee the nature of the darker powersh, do you?"
I am slightly ashamed to admit that my sense of awe and terror diminished considerably after Solon started talking.
"That does tend to happen. We understand."
"I undershtand your heshitation, Adept," Solon continued, "Chaosh sheemsh to offer little at firsht glance, shave a future of shuffering and conflict. Not that thish ish sho different from a life of Imperial shervice..."
My throat felt somewhat dry, so I spoke in Binary without thinking. +What is Chaos, exactly? Is it simply another cult? Some other facet of dogma that the Adeptus Mechanicus denies and opposes? Why do you wage war in its name? Why should I do the same?+
Solon answered without pause, as if he didn't notice that I was speaking a different language. "Chaosh ish many thingsh, Adept Gaela. But to you? To you, it would be truth."
+Truth? The truth of what?+ I pressed.
"The Machine. The Omnishiah. The quesht for knowledge that ish the very core of the Cult Mechanicush," he said, his voice possessing a hint of reverence, "Chaosh preshentsh anshweresh, Adept Gaela. They are not shimple or happy truthsh, but they are there for you if you would not deny them."
This pitch was more to my liking, and my mind raced as I considered the full implications of what he was saying.
Despite his words, I was not so naïve as to immediately trust that Warsmith Solon was speaking honestly. Or even if he was, that he was necessarily correct. Heretics of Chaos belonged to a separate dogma than Techpriests of the Adeptus Mechanicus, but not necessarily a better or more "correct" one. I wasn't being asked to merely explore a different faith, but to swear my life and service to an army of heretical pirates.
As I ruminated, I finally noticed what it was that Solon had been standing on when I entered. I blinked, and my optical reset just so I could be sure it wasn't malfunctioning.
+Is that... a Necron machine?+ I asked.
Kaelith bristled, no doubt quite offended that I seemed to be trying to change the subject. Solon was more amiable, of course.
"Yesh, it ish. Tomb Shpyder, to be exact. Quite a shtubborn little pesht." He raised one of his legs and gave the inanimate machine a light kick. "Necron machinesh and warriorsh all teleport back to their tombsh when critically damaged for repair and reactivation. We probably fought thish thing three or four timesh before we finally managed to break into the tomb itshelf and ranshack it."
I gulped. +If... If I join you, can I study that?+
Solon looked over to the Tomb Spyder, and then looked back at me. "Okay."
+I'm in.+
Kaelith made a clicking noise that approximated a groan. +Commentary: So this is the "truth" you seek, then? Tampering with alien trinkets? Will these provide the answers you want?+
+Perhaps not,+ I admitted, +but I really want to do it anyway.+
"A model heretic if I've ever sheen one," Solon said with a deep chuckle, "your laborsh under our control will not be eashy or shafe, Adept Gaela, but I guarantee you ample freedom to inveshtigate technology from the alien and heretic. If that ish your deshire, it shall be well-sherved here."
+Thank you, Warsmith Solon,+ I blurted, kneeling before the Iron Warrior, +thank you for granting me this chance. I swear to serve you and your Company for as long as I am able. My body, soul, and assorted cybernetic equivalents belong to you, Lord.+
"You're very welcome, Gaela. Dark Acolyte Gaela," I felt a surge of heat in my chest as he pronounced the title. I was not an individual prone to feelings of pride, and I did not yet know the responsibilities and powers of the rank. Yet I felt... pleased at being referred to like that. Unusually so.
"And shince thish recruitment hash gone sho well, I think I know what your firsht tashk ish to be," Solon said, swiveling around to face Kaelith again.
The Warsmith said something in Binaric Cant, but I couldn't understand it. It sounded like scrapcode, almost.
Kaelith quickly scurried off, and I was left alone with the Warsmith and the pile of apparently Necron artifacts.
+What is to be my service, Lord?+
"My forcesh captured many Tech-clergy during the ashault on the shipyardsh, Acolyte. But few have been shwayed to make new oathsh," Solon admitted.
+With all respect to Dark Magos Kaelith, he did not present a compelling case for turning traitor,+ I admitted blandly, +I have long chafed under the guidance of the Mechanicus dogma, having my interests dismissed as errors in judgment or outright heresy. Others may not be so receptive to the opportunity of betrayal.+
Solon chuckled again. "Kaelith reshentsh loyalishtsh a great deal. To the point that he doesh not care whether they are actually loyal." He took several steps closer, and although the smell got stronger and his presence more terrifying with proximity, I stood where I was. "You, though... you have a detachment to your allegiance I find mosht intereshting. You do not care for the Mechanicush?"
+I think the Adeptus Mechanicus is a fine and worthy institution. By far the greater half of the alliance that maintains the Imperium of Man,+ I replied, +but it could easily be better, and it shuns the very progress it claims to represent. If challenging the crude notions of dogma and restrictions on free thought to advance the quest for knowledge is heresy, then clearly heresy is necessary. Why, then, should I fear being branded a heretic? Let the old institutions burn and new, stronger ones rise in their place.+
I hesitated, unsure if I should continue with my next thought. Solon seemed to sense that I wasn't done.
"Do go on, Acolyte. I enjoy shuch frank dishcushion."
I nodded to him. +I cannot tell yet if these "Dark Gods" offer any worthwhile answers. But I cannot rationalize sentencing myself to death before I've even considered the possibility. If Chaos were truly mere nonsense and trickery, the Imperium would not fear it so.+
Warsmith Solon's optics flickered. "Ah. It'sh ready. Follow me."
Solon headed toward the blast doors, but he paused to pick up a weapons case, clamping onto it with his servo claw before exiting the room. I did as commanded and followed behind him.
I was anxious. For all my rationale and eagerness at the prospect of studying rare xeno-tech artifacts, I had little idea of what to expect of service to Chaos. So little was said about the traitorous powers, and even less recorded for posterity. More useful knowledge dismissed by my cult for fear of heresy.
We entered another room, and I nearly tripped as I got a look at its occupants.
Iron Warriors stood at the walls, boltguns at the ready, but in the middle of the room was several Tech-clergy, all of them firmly bound in shackles and kneeling. Dark Magos Kaelith stood at one end of the lineup, hissing in Binary at another Magos: Magos Gaien. The Magos had been stripped of her robes and had her mechadendrites severed, leaving a large mechanical repulsor engine and a few scraps of withered flesh visible among the twisted cables and regulators.
That would have been arresting enough, but in the center of the room was someone I knew much better than she. Tolar.
"Uh-oh. I think I know how this ends..."
"Spike! Shush!"
+Gaela! Damn! They got you too?!+ Tolar gasped, his Cant shaking somewhat as he beheld the behemoth next to me.
"We got her all right, Adept," Solon said pleasantly, "she ish oursh, now."
+What? What does that mean?+ Tolar asked. He sounded even more nervous once it was obvious Solon understood Binaric Cant.
"Dark Acolyte Gaela," the Warsmith said solemnly as he opened up the weapon case, "in recognition of your new oath and shervice, I grant you a weapon worthy of your shtation." Inside the case was a power axe. It was colored brushed steel and gold, with cabling painted in black and yellow hazard stripes. The power axe I wield to this day.
+It's not true! You're lying!+ Tolar shouted, although he was trembling in fear. +Tell me it's not true, Gaela!+
I looked up at Solon. He looked down at me.
"Well, Acolyte?"
My augmetic hand reached for the power axe, closing around the haft.
I turned away from Solon, toward the captured clergy. Two steps forward, and then I made my strike, axe level with Tolar's throat. The power field crackled sharply as it ripped through flesh and bone, and the severed head of my "friend" went tumbling onto the floor.
+I am a traitor,+ I blurted remorselessly, +it's a shame that you aren't.+ Tolar's body slumped onto the floor, blood seeping from his sizzling neck stump.
Many of the Tech-clergy started shouting in a panic at me or at each other, but I ignored them. I turned to Warsmith Solon once more, to await his judgment.
"Uh..." his judgment was surprisingly hesitant. "... Good initiative, Acolyte. However, I wash actually going to ashk you to convert him to our shide."
"Gaela!"
Yes, yes, I know. I can't read the mood. I had probably never been more embarrassed in my life. You could have defrosted a nitrogen capsule with my face.
+I... I didn't... You mean...+ my Cant stuttered like I was on the verge of crashing.
"It'sh not a big deal," Solon assured me, "we do that short of thing a lot. I undershtand the confushion."
+You traitorous swine!+ Gaien bleated, her Binaric Cant rising in pitch to a feverish shriek. +You dare turn your back on humanity? You would deny the Omnissiah's light to consort with these wretched rebels?+ Her body quivered. It was actually quite fascinating to watch; with her repulsor engine and mechadendrites disabled, her body shook on the floor, immobile, like a pot of caf reaching a boil. +You will regret turning your back on us! You will suffer when our retribution is at hand! Your days are numbered, all of you!+
I stared at the howling Magos, frowning.
Then I looked over to Warsmith Solon again. +Can I kill HER, then?+
"She doesh sheem like a shtubborn one, doeshn't she?" Solon mused. "Okay, go ahead."
The power field around my power axe once more sparked to life.

****

Ferrous Dominus - sector 4, Dark Mechanicus Temple Primarus

Twilight looked horrified. "You killed your own mother?"
Gaela blinked. "What? No. I don't have a-" Then the cyborg paused. "Oh. Right. Then yes, I did. Technically."
Twilight groaned. "So your attitude and tendency toward violence really has nothing to do with Chaos corruption. You've always been like that. The descent into Chaos worship just allows you more opportunities to exercise it."
"Convenient, isn't it?"
"So, wait, you're only in the Dark Mechanicus so you can mess with alien machines? You don't actually care about it?" Spike asked curiously.
"That was my initial disposition, yes," Gaela admitted, "over time, I have learned many things about the Dark Gods and their relation to the Omnissiah. I have seen many of their truths, and become a genuine believer. The path of Chaos, the path of blood and destruction, is the true way forward for humanity and the Mechanicus." She paused. "Unfortunately, I cannot relay that aspect of my past to you unless you are at least Chaos worshipers. Much of it involves secret lore."
"Yeah, really, that's okay. This was plenty," Spike assured the woman as he hopped down from his chair, "and now I get why you don't think of yourself as a slave or prisoner." He stretched briefly before walking toward the exit. "I'm hungry. I'm going to go grab a few gems from my stash."
"Pick up a ration tin for me too, would you?" Twilight asked.
"Twi, there's plenty of that stuff around here. You can find it on your own," Spike replied before he turned into the hall.

"Really, I don't know how you ever mistook Spike for a slave," Twilight grumbled, glaring out at the hallway after the disobedient dragon.
"Yes, fine. I admit error in my judgment," the Dark Techpriest said, "are you happy now?"
The purple pony didn't say anything to that, frowning.
After several seconds of deep thought, she looked up at Gaela again.
"It bothers me," she decided, "the way you killed your friend and your mother. It doesn't really SURPRISE me, but... it makes me worried that you could kill those close to you so easily."
"I never considered them to be close, and I reject the implications of your assessment," Gaela said firmly, "Tolar and I shared a similar interest, but I never saw him as anything more than a convenient acquaintance." She paused. "Granted, I was definitely too quick in killing him. Everybody can agree on that much."
Twilight cocked her head to the side. "Well, is there anybody you WOULDN'T kill, even if you had legitimate orders to do so?"
"Warsmith Solon," Gaela said immediately, "my respect for him, and the many debts I owe him, place him beyond any possibility of betrayal."
Twilight pursed her lips, looking away.
"... I would also be extremely reluctant to harm you, if such an order were to fall to me," Gaela admitted awkwardly after a long pause.
Twilight perked up immediately. "Really? You mean it?"
"Affirmative. And don't think I haven't considered the possibility, considering that you once thought to infiltrate our fortress and confront the Warsmith."
Twilight chuckled nervously, her face flushing as she looked at the Dark Techpriest across the table. Gaela was frowning slightly, as she usually did, but it seemed to be wavering, somehow. As if the expression was fighting against a different one.
The purple Princess raised a hoof. "Hug?"
"THERE WILL BE NO HUGS."
"Awww..."