Magos Dominus Ferrix-Omicron coolant pipes were itching. The recent attacks didn’t align with his predictive auguries. All signs pointed to Locum Deltor-9o/0, however, that didn’t fit into his model of the priest.
Ferrix had analysed his actions extensively over the years, ever since the Locum triumphed over Viel. He would never take such a risky action for seemingly zero benefits. He refused the premise that they had been outmanoeuvred by a mind crude enough to favour a frontal assault.
Even in the current climate.
His blessed logic-matrices chimed a binharic warning and once more returned an inconclusive result. But all his investigations pointed to the Locum. Every avenue he tried came back to him. His internal algorithms struggled to reconcile the two contradictory data-states, seemingly at odds with each other.
True, his investigative skills had never been his strongest points, but he had the reach and processing power to dedicate towards it. Something should have been found. If everything pointed at the Locum, that would have been another mark against it, but all the evidence seemed organic in origin rather than deliberately curated.
Regardless, he agreed with Viel's steps. They needed to prepare. Building up better defences, fortifying the sanctum and the surrounding district. Ferrix had made sure most of the Collegex was within the new defences. Even those who shouldn’t be.
At the request of both Xaldris Trontis and Theta-61, he made sure Aleric-007's sanctum was within the new defensive line.
He wasn’t impressed by the ganger turned adept; if anything, he held him in contempt. He might have won over the other two, but Ferrix found his abilities far less impressive. He purged the irritation. He would not allow his emotions to affect his decisions. Sentiment introduces error—an axiom Ferrix had long since committed to sacred memory.
He had already measured the risks. His Litany of Evaluation had been completed and returned optimal results. He would not be caught out again. Remaining with Viel when he was banished had set him back centuries, but he was now back on track.
Still, it couldn't be helped, Ferrix had severed too many data-alliances getting into Viel's Collegex, so had no chance to flee the sinking ship as others had.
All available data-streams converged on continued adherence and assistance to the adept, with projected success at 79.6723724%.
As well as increasing the defences, he had requisitioned multiple manifolds of Skitarii. Plucked from the legions still stationed upon the forge world. All this had slowly turned the area into a fortress. A fortress whose defence-systems answered solely to his command protocols.
He had shared his blessed calculations with Xaldris and Theta. Xaldris, unfortunately, allowed his emotions to cloud his logic, fully believing Locum Viel that Locum Deltor-9o/0 was the culprit. His faith in Viel had only increased since he found the STCs. But then he wasn’t there for the banishment and had attached himself after they arrived at the hive.
Theta was more amenable to structured analysis and was willing to listen to sound reason. He had also investigated on the side and hadn't made much more progress than Ferrix. But he was a useful temporary ally.
With no clear evidence, Ferrix was going to bow to the pressure and retaliate against the Locum; he had covered himself well, so none of it would blow back on him. A large data burst pinged against his awareness.
As soon as it had passed through his partitions, scanned and cleared, he accessed it. First, with only a fraction of his awareness, but as the gravity of the data dawned on him, his mind snapped, fully focusing upon it. Within seconds, his augmented cortex had parsed through the several terabytes of data.
Where he could, he cross-referenced it with information he already had. It meshed, to a startling degree. It sent a cold shiver through his coolant pipes. Some of the information—if authentic—should have been impossible to access but for a select few.
And yet it sat there in neatly organised rows.
Even as he moved, he felt both Xaldris and Theta form a communion. Thoughts and feelings rapidly exchanged. Unsurprisingly, Xaldris waved it away, Viel already giving him multiple reasons. Some of them Ferrix actually agreed with.
But the information was too detailed that even Xaldris had his doubts.
Theta had formed an opinion similar to his own. His blessed logic close to his own. It confirmed their suspicions and the most adverse projection. Turning two of the largest factions within the hive against each other. Ferrix also wasn’t convinced they would win the fight. Locum Deltor-9o/0 had centuries to build up his position.
Stratix was already tipping toward instability. Further fighting would only push this towards the logical conclusion faster.
Deep within the data burst, hidden under the code was a location and verification code for a node buried deep within the noosphere. It was located on the borders of some of the noosphere’s most corrupted data-regions. But with the code came a path for safe passage. Or so the details said.
Ferrix confirmed that Theta had it as well. Although interestingly, Xaldris's did not. Further evidence of the sender's knowledge they should not have.
If Viel had the location, he would attack, thinking it was a trap.
Ferrix didn’t rule out a trap, but his calculus pointed in a different direction.
After some rapid back and forth, they came to the same conclusion. Theta pulled in a dozen magi practised in the noosphere and three skilled Tech Lords. He had wanted to bring Aleric as well, but bowed to Ferrix's logic. Aleric was good within the noosphere but didn’t have the experience yet to help.
Nor did Ferrix's sacred algorithms indicate there was any benefit in bringing him.
The passkeys had a limit, so they picked their members carefully.
---
It was obvious when they reached the location. An edifice of power within the noosphere. It was hard to imagine the fortress had been hidden from view; it burned with so much power. But there had been no sign of it until they were right on top of it.
To Ferrix, it appeared as a colossal data-construct. Vast buttresses of logic-code spiralled upward into infinity, while cathedral-like lattices of luminous algorithms supported impossible vaults. Rivers of binharic script cascaded down its flanks like waterfalls of light, each strand humming with machine-cant. It was less a building than a nexus of thought, a monument of layered cognition burning within the noosphere.
They entered without trouble the access code unfolding before them like a sacred cypher, and found themselves within data-catacombs.
The corridors were lined with ghost-echoes of long-dead magi, fragmented cognition patterns lingering like corrupted archives. Some were almost whole, driven only to madness by centuries of isolation, while others had degraded into faint mnemonic shadows.
The deeper they got, the more their connection to the wider noosphere faded entirely, their connection collapsing into a sealed local datascape.
And within a few short corridors, they were fully cut off.
For a moment Ferrix calculated the disturbing possibility that, should the path collapse entirely, his consciousness might wander this datascape indefinitely—another whisper added to the catacombs. Ferrix's digital matrices crawled with unease.
They almost turned back, the risks becoming too high, but they had not passed his risk threshold quite yet, so he pressed on, the others falling in behind him. The nearer they got to the centre, the harder it was for his senses to penetrate the gloom.
A thin mist filled the data corridors, getting thicker in time, choking off his detective hymns, their holy radiance unable to penetrate the thick swirling coded fog around them. But they still followed the route laid out before them, without which Ferrix was sure they would be lost.
The fog gave way, and they stepped into a large arched chamber. Iconography covered the simulated stone walls, and the vaulted ceiling was decorated with faded, but detailed pictures. Ferrix recognised one mural as a stylised depiction of the Treaty of Mars, the ancient pact that had bound the Mechanicum to the Imperium.
At the centre of the room sat a large throne. Made for a giant, intricate cogs ticked within it and pulsing cables criss-crossed around it. Deep within, almost hidden from view, Ferrix could see a burning light. When he tried to look deeply within, it burned his mind.
Startled, he turned his attention away. In that short moment, it had burned away several of his shields guarding his mind.
Within the data, he could feel the hum of the powerful and ancient holy machine bound within the throne, its ancient logic-engines humming like distant reactors.
There sat on the throne was a vast shadow. Somehow more vivid and real than anything around them. As large as the throne that dwarfed the room. Its digital cloak billowed around it, even in the dead room. The hood was pulled up, casting everything within in an impenetrable darkness.
Two of its four arms rested upon its lap, while the others lay on the thrones.
Staring at it deeply was incredibly uncomfortable. Like logic-needles attempting to burrow into his cognition. Not a sharp pain, but a constant and distracting one. He could feel himself getting pulled deeper and deeper within the swirling shadows that made up the figure.
A protective chant chirped, pulling him back with a start.
A flash of cold fear washed over him. He quashed it with practised ease. Emotion had no place here; logic would prevail. But Ferrix didn’t allow him to once again search too deeply into the slumbering giant.
Movement pulled his attention to one of the other countless doorways in the room. From it another party emerged from the fog. He tensed, falling into a defensive pattern, his fellow magi moving around him. Locum Deltor-9o/0 appeared with a dozen of his members.
The Locum saw them at the same time and fell into formation around him. Surprise flickered across several of their faces, although the cool calm never left the Locum's metallic face.
One of the Locums party, Ferrix recognised him as a recently raised magi, shouted. From the data burst, he knew the magi had been one of those attacked. He started compiling a combat chant, everyone else not far behind.
Before he could release it, a deep, deep rumble hummed through the room. Shaking algorithmic dust from the ceiling and sending the data around them scattering. Ferrix felt a blanket of power settle around them, stifling and locking him in place.
The chants were snuffed out, crushed under the entity's power.
They turned to look at the epicentre of this power. The giant was no longer slumbering and was focused on them.
The voice, gruff and mechanical, came from everywhere. It spoke in an ancient dialect of binharic dating back to the Time of Strife.
Ferrix's mechanical heart stuttered as he realised the voice wasn’t coming from around them but within his mind. Somehow, the entity had slipped past his and everyone else's defences, unnoticed. Even the Locum looked unnerved, his avatar's hands clenching.
The Locum said, bowing to the ancient machine spirit.
The entity said. As he spoke, Ferrix could feel the weight of the years pressing down on him. His voice ended loudly, almost deafening Ferrix in its intensity. Several of his shields buckled under the strain.
The machine spirits' cloak flickered, and beneath its hood three cold burning eyes flared to brilliant light, like the hearts of three suns burning, judging, assessing and dismissing them.
Ferrix tried to find his voice, but was clamped shut, still unable to move—locked in place. Then the figure started to fade. His eyes dimmed before they froze entirely, cloak mid-ripple. As if frozen in time. He could feel a powerful shield lock into place around the now slumbering venerable machine spirit.
Ferrix found he could suddenly move, the blanket of energy slipping away, as it did, he felt a constant and insistent force tugging him for the exit. Slowly pulling him toward the doorway, gentle at first, but becoming more insistent over time.
Before they could be pulled from the room, Ferrix turned toward the Locum and stepped forward, stopping in the centre of the room. Standing below the great throne.
The Locum copied him and met him before the throne.
Ferrix said, nodding.
Ferrix said simply. It was the most logical move. If the information was valid, then there were third parties trying to start a conflict that could rip the forge world apart. It would certainly weaken them in this unstable time.
One of the Locums party moved forward.
The Locum nodded at the magi, then turned back to Ferrix A glimmer of contempt flashed across his face, gone faster than Ferrix could detect.
Ferrix didn't turn, not allowing himself to show weakness or doubt, but he pulse Theta-61 for confirmation. They had already discussed it, both of one mind. They would not sink with the ship a second time.
He straightened, aware of the mutiny he was countenancing.
There was more he wanted to say, but the tugging was insistent now. Dragging him back, and it was all he could do to stop himself from being dragged across the room. Before he was unceremoniously removed, he nodded once more at the locum and joined his party, allowing the force to pull him from the room. Behind him, the Locum did the same.
As the twisting data-labyrinth faded away and the greater noosphere connected once more, Ferrix paused for several seconds. None of the magi spoke, each silently offering a fragment of prayer to the Omnissiah for having survived the encounter.
---
Private Tobias Venn groaned as he pushed himself off the narrow cot. He fell in with the rest of his squad and went about their morning routine. Training, eating in the mess, gear maintenance and cleaning, then it was off to the Curtain.
The great fortification around Hive Calixes.
It was here he and his squadmates would stand guard for the next twelve hours. They would take turns; only a few men of the fifty-man squad would be on duty at a time. The rest would be sitting down, resting in the pillboxes lining the smooth ferrcrete wall.
It wasn’t a bad life, Tobias reflected. He made good C-credits for his service, which he mostly sent back to his wife and family. It allowed them to live in a nicer part of the hive, and it was better to live in the hive than anywhere else on the planet.
There were countless settlements, some nothing more than fortified outposts, while others were larger towns or cities. None like Hive Calixes, which was the only hive city on the planet. The other cities were flat and didn’t have the density of his home.
Just small industrial complexes to refine the minerals before they were sent to the hive, which had the main port.
The hive city, at least as part of the guard, was much safer than anywhere else. Each town and city were fortified, but you occasionally heard them fall to a raid. So he was very happy where he was. Although a city or town hadn't fallen for decades.
The planet itself was well off. The solar system fell on a major warp route, which made the solar system surprisingly wealthy. It was east of Gravis Expanse and their hive world, situated right at the edge of the sector. He had never been off-world, but he had heard some incredible stories about the Gravis system.
Now that was a terrible place to live.
Apparently, Hive Calixes was small compared to their cities, which he found impossible to imagine. The last census put the total population at two billion, an unfathomable number. It was even harder to believe there was anything bigger from where he stood.
Glancing back, he could see the city looming over him. Its reassuring shadow hanging over them.
Below him was a ring of dust and sand, starting at the base of the wall and spreading out several miles from it. The Moats were created by the pollution of the hive.
This waste land ended in the dense jungle that covered most of the planet.
He shifted his las rifle in his arms, moving it to a more comfortable position when a pulsing alarm sounded. Tobias felt his heart rate start to rise, not in fear but anticipation. Well some fear, but mostly excitement. The alarm meant another ork horde was coming.
The first few times it was all he could do not to wet himself, but he was an old hat at this now. They were a regular occurrence, happening several times a year. They might sometimes be a threat to outlying towns, but not to the hive.
They were more of a nuance than anything.
When they had first started, he had asked why they didn’t simply wipe them out, but he had been told that was simply impossible. Something about how they grow from spores. Whatever that meant.
The approaching horde would be a good chance for some extra credits and, almost more importantly… bragging rights.
He would need to defend his title of getting the most kills in the squad.
Off in the distance, he could see a green smudge emerge from the tree line as the hundreds of thousands of orks charged. Above them, sitting on top of their guard towers, the turrets whirred to life, squeaking and groaning as they span towards the approaching horde.
Across the curved wall, thousands of turrets were doing the same.
With a hiss and a crackle, the las cannon discharged. Its flash of light from the las bolt burning lines in his retina. From behind the walls a boom, heralded the firing of the great artillery pieces, that some claimed were from the time of the Great Crusade.
Blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, he heard the Sargent. "Alight boys and girls. Steady, just like we trained."
The orks' ranks were thinned out as they were pounded by the turrets and other artillery pieces lining the walls.
When they crossed into range, their sergeant gave the signal of weapons free and all around him, tens of thousands of soldiers opened fire.
Tobias leaned slightly to get a clear shot and fell into the familiar pattern. Something he practised thousands of times at the shooting range. He found it almost calming by this point as orks started dropping one after another. Barely an hour later, the horde had been eradicated, with few if any fleeing. Those that did would be picked off by the Avengers that screamed overhead.
As he watched the last of the horde disappear into the forest, leaving only smoking corpses in their wake, he sent his thanks to them and to the Emperor. They were the reason the PDF was quite so well-funded and the reason he had such a cushy job.
In the distance, a fireball bloomed as a section of forest was flattened. A circular section burned clean of vegetation. Tobias knew from experience that the vegetation would reclaim the area in a few short weeks. Plant life grew fast on Lupra. Supposedly, there were countless ruins across the planet, all reclaimed by the vegetation of the planet.
He had seen none, so he wasn’t convinced they existed, but that was what Lucian had told him.
The sirens sounded again, a different one this time, letting them know they could stand down. Not that he would, not until the sergeant gave them the all clear. Not all squads were as well disciplined, and he could see some of them turn and leave.
At the sergeant's signal, they returned to watch duty. Fortunately, it wasn’t his turn, so he settled at the table to play some dice. They played for pride and jobs. He had managed to offload all of his chores for the last two weeks that way, and he was hoping to do that again.
Another six months of this and it would be the end of his deployment, then he could finally see his family again. He would be home for six months, three months more than most before he would deploy once more. He was looking forward to being away from the tight, smelly, cramped barracks.
But again, Tobias reflected, it wasn’t that bad. He was safe, respected and was helping his family. He even had prospects. If he could rise up high enough, he could hold an office within the hive. That was decades off of course, but everyone in power had to serve in the military, either the navy or army—without fail.
Even the Governor had served.
---
Tobias had finished his shift and jobs. He didn’t need to sleep, but it would probably be best to. He hadn't had a chance to snooze after the attack. Just as he had stripped down, the siren went off again.
This one different. Shriller, more urgent, more insistent. It wasn’t one he recognised. Springing up, he threw on his pressed uniform. The dark tan trousers and shirt, and over this, he strapped on his carapace armour. Latching it into place and hitting it to make sure it didn’t move. That done, he placed his helmet on and threw on the last piece of uniform, the bright red over cloak.
His private rank was pinned proudly on his shoulder. Everyone had it, but he liked it nonetheless. It made him feel a part of something.
Ready, he jogged to the armoury to grab his stub pistol and las rifle.
He joined the others standing on the Curtain. It was silent, not even a murmur. Wanting to know what was happening he leaned closer to Lucian, who had family in high places and always seemed to have the best gossip. For instance, he was the one who told them about the start of the warp storms six or seven years ago.
"What's going on?"
Lucian just pointed up at the sky.
Tobias hissed in surprise. High in the night sky was a great mass of ships, all twisted together. All around it were flashes of light as it traded fire with ships he couldn’t see.
The ship must be massive, far larger than any he had heard of, to be seen from the planet.
"Wh…what?"
"A space hulk." Lucian said. At Tobias blank look he explained. "A conglomerate of viodships and space debris twisted together into one massive ship, or station."
"What's it doing?" Tobias wondered aloud.
"It's burning for the planet. Command thinks they are trying to crash land here."
That seemed likely. Lucian would know. His family had people all over the place. His older brother was a Captain, let alone his father.
They watched the Hulk burst into flame as it punched through the atmosphere.
Normally, Tobias would be put off by the rich sort. Unmitigated pricks he found generally. But Lucian was the exception to that rule. He attributed that to his father. They had only met a few times, but he was a disciplined, hard man. Unaccepting of any complaining.
But the entire family was the same. Military through and through. They weren't quite nobles, but they were a respected bloodline, having served in the navy and army for generations.
Tobias had latched onto Lucian early on as a good friend to keep. Something that had been proved right again and again. The better squad was because of him, otherwise he might have gone to one of the worse quality ones. It was unlikely—he had come near the first of his cohort when they graduated, but it paid to be sure.
And unlike the few vapid nobles he had met on the occasional dinner parties he had been dragged too by Lucian, he was actually competent. It wouldn’t surprise him if he were promoted soon and started on his officer training. Not just because of his connections but because he actually knew how to lead.
The scraping of boots drew his attention as the Commissar stopped behind them. Commissar Valerian Krast was one of the good ones. Tobias had found many of the other Commissars were less than pleasant, having let their power go to their heads.
The tough old man stood at parade rest, arms crossed behind his back, face set and looked up like the rest of them, watching the giant wreck burn overhead. "At least it won't crash on the hive." The veteran.
The alarm was cancelled, and everyone sent away once more.
Instead of following the rest of the squad to the barracks, Tobias fell into step beside Lucian, who marched past the barracks and through the winding corridors to arrive at an office.
They timed it perfectly as General Hadrian Varr stepped out, his attaches hovering around him. The general paused as he caught sight of them, before nodding. "Keep quiet and stay out of the way."
"Yes General." Tobias said, saluting.
"Yes Fath—General."
He nodded sharply and marched off. They were soon in a large meeting room, a huge oval table sat in the middle. A holographic display at the centre of it. Lining the walls were dozens, if not hundreds, of people, all not important enough to sit at the table.
Tobias recognised several high-ranking officials and admirals. There was even the Governor, another not-so-bad sort.
Tobias had no idea what his story was, but he wasn’t nearly as corrupt or incompetent as some of the stories he had heard about. It was probably because he was voted in. Anyone serving or had served in the military received a vote that they could use once every ten years to vote in the new governor.
They made their way to an empty spot at the wall and watched the meeting unfold. The Hulk had crashed on the other side of the planet, and a horde of orks had poured out when it came to rest. The nearby town and settlements had quickly been overrun.
Initial counts put the orks at several million. The largest concentration in living memory.
The Avengers had done what they could, but there wasn’t much they could do. The hulk still bristled with active turrets, which stopped them from getting close and the ork forces had vehicles of their own to fight back the normally safe aircraft.
More importantly, its powerful void shields were still active, stopping the navy from bombarding it from orbit. Although, according to an admiral, that wasn’t really an option anyway. They just didn’t have the vessels capable of doing so. They could in a pinch, but many of the patrol craft didn’t have the power to punch through the atmosphere, let alone fortified placements.
Tobias didn’t know what to think. Half the room was taking it incredibly seriously, like the General. The other half were almost blasé about it. One officer put it perfectly. They had repelled orks for centuries; why would these orks be any different?
He trusted the General more, but he must admit he couldn't see how the orks could challenge them.
---Imperium: Hive Cities Scavenger (Tier 2) - IIWarrior (Tier 3) - VIImperium: Hive Cities Danger (Tier 2) - IIIHuman: Hand to hand (Tier 2) - IIITerra Federation: Technician (Tier 3) - XTerra Federation: Software (Tier 3) - VSharpshooter (Tier 3) - VISelf (Tier 3) - XIReverse Engineering (Tier 2) - IImperium: Canine Handling (Tier 2) - IVAkashic Throne (Tier 1) - IBlade Mastery (Tier 3) - VIIPhysics (Tier 1) - XIGlyphcraft (Tier 2) - IIBlueprints (Tier 3) - IIIActing (Tier 1) - IMathematics (Tier 1) - XIBiology (Tier 1) - XTeaching (Tier 2) - IIMachine Spirit (Tier 1) - IChemistry (Tier 1) - VIIIEngineering (Tier 1) - VIIBionics (Tier 3) - IIII