Lost and Found (Warhammer 40k SI)

POV: Nicole

It is late in the evening aboard the Argent Drake. I am in my room, still idly mulling over the data from the Dominus exam, information from Cobalt, and my own research, while attempting to formulate a proper response to Archmagos Croft’s exam questions, when there is a knock on the door to my quarters.

When I open the door, I am surprised by the sight of Arianwyn standing there in her nightgown. “Ah! You’re still awake, and already appropriately attired – good! You are being kidnapped; please do not resist,” Arianwyn says boldly as she reaches out and grabs my hands.

“Ari? What?” I ask, utterly baffled.

“High Magos Gertrude registered signs in your biometrics that you were suppressing an elevated stress response after all your exams. Based on my studies into old Terran customs and certain ancient media, you are coming with me for a juvenile nocturnal conviviality! An informal overnight social engagement amongst one's peers is good for stress!” She declares as she moves her hold to my wrists and begins dragging me down the hallway.

I blink several times in quick succession as I have to spend a few moments switching gears in my mind from technical figures, metal stress tolerances, and drive cones to process the obscure High Gothic noble speak.

“Ari, I need to finish my exam,” I whine, but don’t fight as I am pulled along. AME flutters behind me and pulses with amusement through our empathic bond.

“You may continue to work on your exam response while basking in my presence! Perhaps I can advise you? I have studied ships extensively as part of my education under Grandfather. Besides, I have procured and furnished one of the guest quarters for our rendezvous. I have both Grandfather’s and Archmagos Doll’s explicit permission for our gathering,” she says smugly.

“You are kidnapping me for a slumber party,” I state, still baffled but also extremely amused.

“Is that the proper term? The activity wasn’t named explicitly, only described in the media I found it in. Ah! Like a tea party, but with slumber! How clever!” She titters. “Fear not, Nicole, sweet teas and snacks have been prepared.”

I can’t help but crack a smile. “Alright, fine. But I am finishing the exam before we do any gossiping or go poking through the old media files from Cobalt or Tempestus.”

“Bargained and well done!” She agrees immediately as she pulls me into one of the lavish guest quarters typically reserved for traveling Noble VIPs. The space has been filled with brightly colored silks, pillows, and blankets; a table with elaborate cookies, cakes, candied fruits, and other desserts sits next to an ornate holotable and two of the most ridiculous, frilliest, fluffiest chairs I have ever seen.

“By the Throne, Ari… I think this is a tad excessive,” I say as I take in the room.

“Nonsense, Nicole! We’re wealthy and of the nobility; I barely kept Magna from covering the chairs in gems and precious metals. The activity did stress that comfort was the most important factor. Also, something about pillow duels?” She says, tilting her head.

“Pillow fights… I don’t think pillow fighting is a good idea for either of us. We’re both too well trained in combat, and the pillows would almost certainly rip and spew… foam, feathers, or… what even is inside that one? Is that gel?” I say as I get distracted for a moment before I shake my head. “Also, I have far more appendages than you do; it’s unfair.”

“True… perhaps no pillow fighting.” She sounds disappointed but only for a moment. “Let’s sit and talk about your exams then! Feel free to vent as much as you like,” she says as she eagerly settles into her seat.

I sit in the chair opposite Ari and grab a scone. I explain the prompt for the final question and sync myself with the holotable. “So I need to design a ship. Having a ton of smaller ships acting as transports for a single army was absolutely awful in the simulation,” I grumble.

“It is dangerous putting all your eggs in one basket,” Ari warns me before she hums, “but the trade-off is that protecting and screening for one ship is easier than for a whole group when dealing with fleets. Plus organizing troops is much easier when they’re centralized.”

“Yeah, it’s just annoying with the limitations placed on the hulls available,” I grouse, wrinkling my nose.

“Well… what do you need to focus on? What is its primary role?” She asks as she pours a cup of what smells like some kind of exotic Chai tea.

“Transport capacity, obviously… after that… survivability? I guess the prompt is clear; it just feels wrong to make such a… lopsided monopurpose ship,” I admit as I pull up a few models on the projector and AME flutters up to pass through the projection. “The Argent Drake is a great all-rounder as an example; most Ark Mechanicus ships are too, and you can cram a lot into a Battleship without compromising its firepower. In this case, though, I need to take the largest possible hull and convert it. So something like a Universe-class but configured for troop transport.” I pull up one of the more common Universe-class configurations; the ship is a massive, ponderous flying brick.

I start fiddling with it while talking through the changes aloud. “I guess… We strip out a main cargo hold to make a landing bay. Convert some of the storage for a massive Barracks, maybe two of them? Limits on skilled crew are a major issue, so we swap to a Servitor crew, which means a lot of required changes to the design. We need to maximize speed wherever we can, which means a particular hull and Machine spirit just so it can keep up with the other slowest ships in the fleet.” I slip out of my chair and start to circle the table as I flick my hand back and forth. “There is a limit on armour, but we could bump it up to match a Goliath. Point defenses are a priority.”

“Absolutely! As are shields. Perhaps even double up on Gellar protections? Half a million lives are not something to be treated carelessly.” She mutters as she sips her tea.

I nod and wince. “This is clearly not a ship for solo operations, and if it needs to operate in a fleet lacking firepower, that isn’t a dealbreaker. Still, it’ll barely match the output of a Light Cruiser or Heavy Frigate. Though woe to anyone who tries to board it,” I say with a soft chuckle.

Ari snaps her fingers. “Maneuverability! That’s what you need to prioritize after capacity and protection. Even if it’s slow, if it can adjust its orientation, it can compensate somewhat,” she says with a grin.

I nod and toss on several parts to increase the maneuverability. “Huh… we have the spare space… Let's expand things a bit: vaulted ceilings and widened, higher main corridors for superheavy vehicles. Ammo stowage, a Manufactorum, and a way to replace the servitor crew are must-haves…”

Before I know it, an entire hour has gone by with Ari and I bickering over minor design quirks, and I realize my exam response is fully compiled and the design schematic is done.

“Oh… I’m done,” I say as I sprawl out on one of the pillow piles.

“Finally! The flying shovel doesn’t look half bad,” she teases, and I huff at the nickname she gave my design file… even if it is slightly spade-shaped.

“What now?” I ask as I smooth out the hem of my nightgown, kicking my slipper-clad feet back and forth from my fortress of fluff.

“Holo-vid? Holo-Drama?” Ari suggests, perking up.

“What genre? Romance? Action? Fantasy? Historical?” I ask as I pull up the archive and begin to scroll through the list; all the titles are foreign to me, and Tempestus clearly had a bias towards certain themes in their media.

“Let’s watch… that one. The Lost Knight,” Ari says as she snuggles into a blanket and the lights dim automatically as the movie starts.

I nod and hit play. A smile sits on my lips as I relax. Maybe I did need a break.

In the back of my mind, I bundle and submit the response along with the schematic design files after giving it one last check. Archmagos Croft struck me as someone who appreciates a more blunt analysis. The moment the files are sent, I turn my full focus back to the screen.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Voidwright Superius, Archmagos Vessal Croft

She leaned back in her command throne as she perused the submitted design files from Magos Cavalerio. They fell where she had expected them. The designs themselves were functional, though she could tell there was an unconscious bias towards the older Heresy-era designs, and Nicole used certain subtle design methodologies that had fallen out of use several millennia prior. Not because they were no longer suitable, but because certain alternatives were popularized in their place.

In particular, the submission for the final exam question. She opened the file and allowed herself an amused smile as she read through the document once more.

In an ideal environment, the forces would be split among a few Cruiser-class or larger vessels, with veteran crews and dedicated troop and Mechanicus facilities on board. An Arc Mechanicus would be the most fitting, but as that has been excluded, there are additional considerations. Numerous smaller voidcraft pose distinct logistical challenges when invading a planet, their performance suffers even more so with green crews. After already procuring a significant number of experienced voidsmen, it has become apparent that the Imperial Navy has a high demand for veteran sailors and, as such, the chance of procuring more sailors of a high grade is not possible. Green sailors require time, experience, and training, and until they achieve certain proficiency benchmarks, their actions have a concerning statistical likelihood of being detrimental to ship operations at some point. Thus, I have been forced to revise my answer. While not ideal, the most economical and feasible vessel is a single vessel built for purpose, a massive singular troop transport, a modified Universe-class or similar hull pattern, with an estimated length in excess of twelve kilometers, to carry half a million troops and their equipment wholesale. This vessel would be retrofitted to operate with a high-quality servitor crew. The best possible servitor crews are on par with a crack crew of trained voidsmen and the next step down is still on average exceeds the performance of a competently trained crew, and while neither reach the standards of a true veteran crew clone based servitors are easy to manufacture in the mass numbers required to operate such a massive hull, and to imprint with the requisite knowledge required to immediately operate at a standard well above that of a green crew.

Using a full 95% servitor crew has its own risks and considerations. Requiring a skilled Mechanicus crew to maintain them and specific components to facilitate their use long-term. So allow me to get into the design.

Assuming the ideal hull and Machine Spirit configuration is achieved, the armour would still be weaker across the entire vessel than that of a Goliath-class factory ship. While it is possible to improve both maneuverability and the level of acceleration the hull can withstand, many of the technologies capable of meaningfully increasing survivability or maneuverability are either Archeotech or Xenotech. Such systems require extensive retrofits to integrate properly, often demanding substantial alterations to the vessel's existing architecture. However, increasing the top speed of such a monstrosity is considerably more difficult.

For the Plasma Drive: an Archeotech Modified L the Pattern Class 1 Drive is ideal, while a good secondary option is a Lathe-pattern Class 1 Drive.

The Warp Drive slot is fairly flexible; only a high-quality stable drive is required, such as a Belecane-pattern 90.r Gellar Field.

For Void Shields, a Repulsor Void Shield and Overload Shield Capacitors are required to help with survivability.

Given that Servitor crew are more susceptible to possession, doubling up on Gellar protections is recommended. An Emergency Field and a Warpsbane Hull should provide adequate protection.

The Life Sustainer and Crew Quarters are also flexible; minimizing space, power draw, and maximizing crew satisfaction for the remaining non-servitor crew is paramount. For this exercise, I have budgeted for a Clemency-pattern Life Sustainer and standard Voidsmen Quarters.

As I currently have spares in storage, a transport-grade Bridge of Antiquity has been selected as the bridge of choice for this vessel, as well as an Archeotech Auto-stabilised Logis-targeter for the Auger Array.

Weapons are a problem. The vessel, even with secondary or tertiary generators, struggles to power advanced energy weapons. Even if one maximizes firepower, the end result is the equivalent damage output of a Heavy Frigate or a Light Cruiser. This ship is designed to always have an escort; it only needs weapons to assist with orbital strikes. Minimizing space and power draw for the three slots available. In this case, I have chosen placeholder Stygies-pattern Macrocannons. Point defenses, in contrast, should absolutely be maximized as a priority. Additionally, if an Archeotech torpedo system is available, that system could replace the prow weapon. I would further suggest keeping a higher number of boarding torpedoes than most ships over other traditional warheads.

One of the Main Cargo holds is to be converted into a landing bay for transport and landing craft. The ship’s hull itself should be designed and tailored to host a large number of Limpet Boats in addition to the landers within.

A massive Barracks system is to be installed for hosting the half a million troops. To augment them, the following components are required:

Manufactorum

Medicae Deck

Munitorum: Primarily for the storage of munitions for the troops' vehicles.

Crew Reclamation Facility

Extended Ship Stores

Astropathic Choir Chambers

The following upgrades are required:

Arrester Engines

Superior Damage Control System

Drop Pod Launch bays are highly recommended but not required.

Murder-servitors are highly recommended but not required.

A Teleportarium is highly recommended but not required.

Spacedock Piers could turn the vessel into a mobile spaceport to serve as a massive staging area for rearming or landing troops.

Additional production facilities such as a Laboratorium or a Pharmacia are worth considering.

The following upgrades are highly recommended but not required. Crew Improvements, Superior Damage Control, Secondary Reactors, and a Targeting Matrix. A consideration for Vaulted Ceilings can also be made, as the vessel will be transporting large vehicles regularly; the extra maneuvering room in the corridors may be worth the loss of space.

Even with all of that, this leaves the vessel a massive, ponderous, obvious target, so as many defensive additions as possible are recommended. Defensive countermeasures, additional point defense turrets, extra armoured plating, or additional prow armour. I would even be so bold as to suggest that, if there are transplantable known Xenos components available, to make full use of them to boost the ship’s defenses and maneuverability.

In conclusion, this is the most efficient means for transporting such a large number of troops. It is not ideal. An Ark Mechanicus, two Battleships, or a mix of Grand Cruisers, Battlecruisers, and Cruisers would be more effective naval assets. However, all the support components and space required to act as mass transports would render most of them less effective in other roles.

Her experience in the simulation had enlightened the girl to the truth. There were a few distinct reasons that, whenever possible, forces consolidated around a single mass transport rather than a swarm of smaller craft. The Titanicus Legios did so in particular – Nicole herself had the second-largest class of Legio carrier vessels. Third, if one included an Ark Mechanicus, but as much as she might wish they had an Ark to spare, they did not; even Battleships, Battlecruisers, and Grand Cruisers were in such high demand in Obscurus that she couldn’t reactivate them fast enough. The main problem was adequately crewing them.

Nicole’s response had fallen where she expected it to.

She reached out across the Noosphere. “Recipient: Fabricator Locum Korr. Communication request: High Priority. Sender: Archmagos Croft.”

“Croft,” Korr replied as the connection formed moments later. His avatar flickered for a moment before it stabilized. “Do you have the results of your exam already?” He inquired, tilting his head.

“I do; Cavalerio has exceeded the criteria for a Magos-grade Voidwright but has not met the Voidwright Superius grade. But that is not the sole reason I have reached out, Lord Locum. I require your permission to prepare for a trade. Have you heard about the cache of data in Magos Cavalerio’s possession?" She inquired.

“With that rank, she is guaranteed to qualify for Magos Errant.” He did not sound surprised as he filed away that rank update. “My permission? Interesting, go on. Which one?” He asked with a scoff.

“The ancient Mechanicus probe stellar cartographic archive,” she said wistfully. “It is something I… no, Cypra Mundi needs to possess,” she spoke with firm belief. “To that end, with your permission, I intend to offer Magos Cavalerio… ‘The Slab.’”

Korr actually blinked his avatar’s optics. “‘The Slab’? Do you expect me to believe she would actually be interested in that ancient thing?”

The vessel had had an actual name at one point, though she did not know it; the massive military transport was an old hull her mentor had often joked about the designer having been inspired by an Ork Rok or a Space Hulk. It was long, wide, and looked like someone bolted engines onto a space station block. It sat in the orbital ring, where no one had touched it beyond cursory maintenance for at least a century.

She sent him Nicole’s final exam question and the design data. “Yes. It will require considerable adjustments, refits, and a few Archeotech parts from my own stores, and cost us at least a hundred thousand premium voidship servitors, but I believe the archive is worth it. In truth, even with The Slab fully refurbished to her standards, and a few support vessels, we may need to offer favorable terms regarding certain salvage rights or agree to share our findings. The Archive is… immense. Archmagos Doll offered me a minuscule sliver of the archive during one of our in-person meetings, and I have recently located a promising previously unknown resource world within.” She sighed wistfully. “One we could sell to either the nearest Forge World or the local Rogue Trader dynasty for a large sum.”

Korr stewed over that for a long moment before he nodded. “Alright. I grant my approval. Archmagos Croft, do your utmost to procure a copy of the cartographic data archive for Cypra Mundi under favorable terms while maintaining a positive report with Magos Cavalerio.”

“Order acknowledged, Lord Locum,” Croft purred as she respectfully inclined her head.

The moment the call ended, she sent orders to one of her orbital foundries to prepare the parts she would need to overhaul ‘The Slab’ and placed a massive order with one of her preferred orbital Forges that produced high-grade clone servitors for Voidships.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Nicole

I can’t help but preen a little as I get the notification that my Basilikon Astra ranking has updated a few mere hours post-submission. I spear a bite of fluffy waffle and put it in my mouth.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Master Doll, sitting across from me, also notices the update. “Congratulations, Nicole. There is minimal chance you will fail to make Magos Errant now. Any further outstanding results will merely push you closer towards the higher echelon rankings.”

“It’s a shame we scheduled this a few weeks ago. If we had waited, I could have had Gertrude proctor both my Biologis and Genetor exams. Her promotion puts her above my proctor. She would be fine letting me ‘cheat,’ a little,” I say with an amused grin.

“Accessing available archives in real time is not cheating; it’s merely utilizing the available resources appropriately. One still needs to process the information and use it appropriately,” Gertrude says with a huff.

“See! She would!” I point my fork at her as she just sighs at me.

“Nicole, not to change the subject, but Archmagos Croft would like an in-person meeting within the next month to discuss the B4-LT-Δ archive. She was very interested in the fragment I shared with her.” Master Doll says, as he filters through the thousands of pending commission requests for cybernetics.

I make a face. “I know the data is valuable, probably more than I realize, but I still don’t know what all I need for my forces. Transportation obviously, which is what I assume she plans to aid me with, and while it’s far from my only card to play, it’s one of the more tangibly valuable.” She has been nothing but fair and polite with me. “I will meet with her. The dataset is far too large for us to comb through it all in a reasonable timeframe anyway, let alone make use of it. I’ll just make sure to add some stipulations for specific regions or celestial objects,” I muse, thinking the sector around the Drakios Dynasty would certainly be one such stipulation.

“Nicole, while you were planetside, an… unusual set of Astartes came to pick up that cube and the grey power armour you made us set aside on behalf of the Ordo Malleus,” Bolaar says, and my attention snaps to him immediately.

“Oh… did they? Great, that’s great. Did they say anything?” I ask, hoping the Grey Knights didn’t raise a fuss.

“Only one spoke, and he expressed his gratitude on behalf of the Ordo. He did not give his name,” Bolaar admits with a frown.

“Well, that cube is their problem now, so don’t worry about it. Seriously, don’t worry about it… or else,” I warn, shaking my head.

Lord Drakios masterfully pretends not to have heard any of that. “Have you settled on a time for the tour I promised the Lord Spire?”

“Yes! Cobalt has approved it. Lord Spire apparently made a good impression on her during the simulation. I'm aiming for sometime within the next two or three weeks; we can work around his schedule. I really like that little stealth Cobra you picked up; it’s got a unique spirit,” I say with a bright smile.

“Three weeks is preferable; we have allocated one week for the remainder of your exams, then we have your first trip to the Titan yards, your meeting with Archmagos Croft. Checking over the new hardware and meeting the Guardsmen you’ve procured.” Victoria adds as she daintily takes a bite of her own syrup-slathered waffle. “Current timetables estimate they should have all the superheavy and heavy vehicles promised to you located and moved to our staging areas within the next three months.”

“Thanks, Vicky!” I say cheerfully, giving a nod to Lord Drakios.

“Saint Lael also has several pending requests from the church,” Victoria says softly.

Lael makes an uncomfortable face at the use of the title. “Minor-Saint,” she corrects half-heartedly. “Is it feasible for me to put them off for another week at least?”

“Yes,” Vicky says confidently, and Lael’s tense shoulders relax.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Inquisitor Delacoi, Ordo Xenos

She pursed her lips hard as she stood over the body of yet another cultist. “This feels… off,” she said as she calmly reloaded her Bolt pistol.

The cults had done nothing but string them along from cell to cell over the past few weeks, and they were no closer to locating the main hive or the Patriarch.

With the purges underway on the openly rebelling planets, she had expected a more… visceral response. Yet the cultists had been more than willing to throw themselves at her and her forces.

“Ma’am! We have located the leader!” One of her troopers called out.

She walked briskly into the next room, where the foul hybrid lay slumped against the wall, his left side was gone, and there were signs of cybernetic augmentation in his mutated body. Blood was pouring from his mouth, ears, and eyes, yet despite the damage, the thing was still breathing as it slowly bled out. His chest was bare, and there was an electoo across his chest. It was the symbol of the Omnissiah but twisted and perverted by the xenos, with additional claws. The symbol pulsed, forcing the creature's heart to continue beating for now. Four troopers had their hellguns aimed at the thing.

When she approached, the creature's eyes focused on her; there was a familiar madness in them, that of a true fanatic.

“We… know of you. I bid you welcome, Inquisitor.” It coughed out a mouthful of blood and gasped painfully as it chuckled.

She ignored its words and turned to her officer. “Can you keep it alive long enough for the Telepath to get here? Remove the limbs if you must, just leave his brain intact.”

“Probably, ma’am,” The officer replied as he gestured to one of the medics who pulled out their trauma kit and began preparing syringes.

“I have done my duty drawing you far from your nest. My only regret is not getting to see the culmination of my Master’s wondrous plan.” It smiled, mouth full of needle-like teeth soaked in its own blood. “The great genefather has decreed you and your ilk must die for the Clawed Omnissiah. We, his chosen faithful, heed his call. The time of New Deliverance has come!” His eyes rolled back, and he screamed. “My life for the cause!”

“Everyone back!” She screamed, noticing the electoo as it began to glow ominously. She ducked back behind a pillar just in time as the hybrid exploded. First, the electoo discharged a surge of synapse-frying power, and then his internal augmetics detonated, sending viscera and bone shards flying like shrapnel.

“Sound off!” She snapped as soon as the dust cleared. As they ran the headcount, they came up one short.

“Trooper-9 got caught in the blast, ma’am, kia. His brain is fried, but his armour took the brunt of the shrapnel. Since when can they do that?” Her Interrogator asked as he moved to her side.

“Since today. Someone, Vox Vyugens, and let him know. All hostiles bearing that mark or heavy augments are to be engaged as if they are wearing IEDs. This is bad.” She replayed the creature's last few words, and the pit in her stomach deepened.

“Ma’am… I sent the message, but I am getting a lot of unusual feedback on the Vox. I think we’re being jammed,” Her Vox officer spoke tensely.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Bladed Cog Biophagus Zygor Gravox

Zygor Gravox stood on the top floor of the Biologis sanctum, looking out over the Forge city spread out below him. His preparations were in place. The girl would be captured, or she would die. This was the will of the Patriarch, and he would see it done.

What he had not expected was the Patriarch to dispatch his sister.

“Sister, I was not expecting you,” he spoke fondly as he embraced her.

“You have been so focused on your work, the Patriarch did not wish to disturb you. His plans have shifted, the cults are mobilizing and preparing for a mass strike. Besides, I've brought along a few helpers for your task.” She giggled as she stepped back and gestured to a glorious trio of Lictors and a full two squads of augmented Abominants that loomed behind her.

“Keep them and yourself to this floor or the lower tunnels. I do not have time to coat them in the special stealth paint as I did with the Genestealers. We cannot risk them noticing one of us early. The girl and guardians will have several potent Auspex systems amongst them. I was not able to access all of their data sheets, so we must err on the side of caution. There will be Astartes,” he growled with a scowl.

“Of course, brother,” she said with a bow, “I won’t spoil your cute, little death trap. But the Patriarch’s patience has grown thin. Regardless of the outcome here, the cults will move on Cypra Mundi.”

Gravox probed the Broodmind and found his sister was indeed correct. The cult was mobilizing, on a scale he had not witnessed before. Based on their last estimates, a mere one percent of the planet’s population had been folded into their ranks.

“This is a great risk.” He dearly wished to delay, but a mental pulse from the Patriarch made it clear that this was his will. Gravox frowned and ran the numbers. “We must go for the throat; target major arsenals to secure arms and as many high-ranking officials as possible.”

His sister rolled her eyes at him. “We know, brother, we have been maneuvering agents extensively while you have been working on your special project. In a few days, everything will be in position for our uprising.”

Gravox just nodded and turned to the window as he got the Noospheric notification that the little Magos was on her way.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Nicole

My Biologis exam is being held in a Forge city in the far southern hemisphere. The city and its neighbors are built over a massive layer of metal several kilometers deep. The entire continental plate is fairly porous and floating freely. At one point, the region saw extensive mining that caused the outer metal layers to slowly sink once too much material was excavated into a sinkhole of their own making; rather than prevent it, they rebuilt everything upward in distinct layers of steel, ferrocrete, and adamantine. Most parts of the lowest layer are still in use, though the living conditions are absolutely horrid compared to those of the upper layers.

For the first time in weeks, it's just my protective retinue and I inside the transport. Master Doll is still up in orbit looking over his new cruiser, though he promised to observe through the Noosphere. No other random Archmagos, Inquisitor, or other high-ranking individuals are around to demand my attention or time.

“You have two days allocated for this exam. Is that enough?” Victoria asks as she continues fiddling with my schedule.

“I certainly hope so. I think Magos Gravox is going to piss off a bunch of Archmagi if he wants me to do a time-consuming experiment with anything requiring a long growth cycle,” I say with a small snort. “My proctor is clearly a social climber, one of the contenders vying for the position of highest-ranked Magi representing Divisio Biologis since the current head is quite the aging recluse. I certainly hope he isn’t foolish enough to torpedo his career over something this trivial.”

I glance towards Brother Silverwalker and Baldos, where he looms, taking up the entire rear of the transport, both having altered their kits. Silverwalker is ritualistically cleaning his Heavy Bolter. “You two changed your loadouts for this excursion?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. Silverwalker was even wearing his ammo pack. Baldos has swapped his Melta for a Twin-linked Lascannon, and under his combat claw he swapped his Storm Bolter for a Heavy flamer. There were two additional Astartes, and I didn’t notice when we left, but rather than standard battle brothers, it is Apothecary Icefang and Lt. Wist.

“Felt like it,” Baldos grunts with a hint of contentment in his voice.

I sweep my eyes over the rest of my guards. Lael is in her armour, but that’s normal, Delta-A3 Raptor is as lethal-looking as always. My eyes stop on a new individual in Light Power Armour.

“Captain Felixis?” With him are a pair decked out like Tempestus Scions. “Sergeant Su?” I mutter; the third is another Felinid I don’t know.

Around Lael is her protective detail of Sisters; they are also decked out and armed with heavy weapons, and while there’s a bunch of them, it’s not much more than normal, just a full squad of ten.

“Lady Cavalerio, it is my honor to escort you today,” Felixis purrs, somehow still politely bowing from his seat where he’s strapped in.

My four Scyllax guardians are the same, sitting in their cradles. AME is perched across my shoulders. The rest of the Skitarii are in their standard kit… though are there more than usual? There is an extra squad when I do a headcount.

My gaze circles back to Victoria, who is also wearing her armour and carrying more weapons than usual.

She just smiles brightly. “The Forge we are visiting has had a statistically anomalous rate of violent incidents and unusual ‘accidents’ over the past ten years.”

“Riiight.”

Under my ornate Mars-red robes, I have my dragonscale power armour, and I, of course, brought a small collection of different pistols. Today’s loadout is the Archeotech Las in my Ballistic Mechadendrite. My Wrath Plasma pistol and Mars-pattern Inferno pistol on either hip, with the Needle pistol tucked along my lower back. Three reloads for each, stored away in my utility belt, along with a few grenades, my tools, and the Tesseract Labyrinth cube. Yet something continues nagging at me, though I don’t have time for a proper divination or draw from the Tarot.

The shuttle bucks under us as we enter a spot of turbulence; I glance out the closest window and frown. It’s pouring down rain, toxic rain laced with heavy metals and other contaminants from the various biological and chemical manufactories. Dark clouds hang overhead, cloaking the entire region in gloom, and a quick check of the planetary weather forecasts confirms the storm system is expected to loiter for several weeks.

No one volunteers any information. As soon as we land, the nagging feeling immediately gets worse as the shuttle sets down on the rain-soaked landing pad and the boarding ramp begins to lower.

As the ramp lowers, I frown; no one is there to greet us, merely a normal tracked servitor standing alone in the deluge. It stands in the rain uncaring, with aged, pale flesh and one glowing red eye. It gives me a polite welcome message over the Noosphere and extends us an invitation to follow it into the sanctum. “Please follow. Honored guests,” it rasps.

“Servitor, where is Biologis Gravox?” I query it from inside the shuttle as AME, and I give it a cursory scan. It’s a totally normal, if well-used and worn-out, servitor.

“Inside,” it replies curtly, “Main Laboratorium. Upper level 6-1-7-4. Please. Follow.” Then it slowly rotates in place on its tracks; once it turns around, it trundles towards the massive rust-covered main doors, which slowly grind open after a long moment.

The first thing I do before even leaving the transport is to check the servitor's transmission against the credentials I was provided, they are genuine. The message really does carry Biologis Gravox's digital signature. “Okay, then.” I grimace. “Man, has this guy not heard of making a good first impression?” I grouse, and while getting a brief whiff of the sour, humid, polluted air, I wrinkle my nose and quickly slip my helmet on as I step out of the cabin, walking briskly to spend as little time in the rain as possible.

We form up and follow the servitor inside; the giant steel doors groan behind us as they begin closing the moment we cross the threshold. I am startled at the state of disrepair and neglect I find within. The interior of the facility is poorly lit, the walls are covered in soot from various nearly burnt-out candles guttering in their skull-shaped sconces, absolutely overflowing with melted wax, and a single strip of lumens hangs overhead, trailing off into the distance.

The clean, high-end aesthetic of the other Forges is absent; in its place is industrial grunge. The ceiling is a veritable rat's nest of power conduits and various pipes.

“Primary lift. Down for maintenance. Please. Follow,” the servitor buzzes.

“Of course it is.” I hear Lael mutter under her breath.

A sadist seemingly designed the interior of the Forge facility. The floors were a series of switchbacks, each set of ramps leading to the next level is on the complete opposite side from the level below, with each floor stretching for nearly a kilometer. Thankfully, the main corridors were at least laid out in straight lines.

I glance at the marking for the level we are on. 6-1-6-1. My eye twitches.

“This place was not designed efficiently,” I grouse. The lack of workers, machinery, or any other sign of activity is mildly unsettling. A facility this enormous should not feel this empty.

“No…” Brother Silverwalker mutters, studying the long corridor ahead of us. “It was designed for defense.”

I glance back at him, then back at the corridor. Once he points it out, I notice it immediately. The high walls, the minimal cover, how stretches of flooring are deliberately exposed, the obvious choke points, each positioned where the corridor narrows or intersects with another passage. Even the switchbacks make more sense now. Anyone advancing through them would be forced into predictable paths, with no way to bypass the levels above or below. There are even old mountings on the ceilings and walls where turrets once sat.

“This entire place is a fortress,” I mutter pensively.

Silverwalker gives a slow nod. “This is not a forge that happens to be defensible,” he says. “This is an old fortress repurposed to serve as a forge.”

I flick my Auspex from passive mode and start running full-spectrum active scans. AME begins sending out curious pulses periodically with her longer-range sensoria. Yet, we have not seen or detected a single soul as we continue making our way up level by level.

Halfway across level 6-1-7-2, two things trigger at the same time. AME’s Auspex finally brushes over a figure standing two levels above us. It’s the Biologis, and it barely takes her a moment to discern that something is horribly wrong with the man. “Warning! Genestealer detected!” She chirps. At the same time, my Ghost Voice Auspex whispers, ‘Danger!’ I freeze in place mid-step, as do my Automata, and the rest of my retinue follow suit as I accelerate my thought process to their active combat-level and examine the data from my Auspex.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Venerable Baldos

The moment finally came as the littlest one froze in the middle of the corridor.

“Okay, everyone, do not move. We are currently surrounded. There are Genestealers covered in some kind of Auspex-deflecting paint on the other side of the walls that even my Archeotech Auspex barely noticed with active scanning. The Biologis is a fracking Genestealer.” Nicole hissed with displeasure, sending her messages at the speed of thought to most of them while also speaking over their secure Vox to those without the requisite implants. The Vox channel she was using to speak with the unaugmented crackled and sputtered.

“There is active jamming present, not at full strength yet; they are masking it under the cover of the storm system,”Baldos observed as his orbital communications cut out.

Nicole’s tone shifted to a serious, frustrated one. “This is a trap; There are at least twenty purestrain Genestealers and an equal number of… Omnissiah, those are Ymgarl strain! But!? How?!” She calmed herself and snapped into her Dominus mindset. “That’s bad, real bad. Frak. Okay, once they spring the ambush, their claws are going to shear through the reinforced walls like tinfoil, and they’ll be on us in less than three seconds. I’ll do my best to share my targeting data, but we’ve got a few moments before this goes sideways and we are standing in the middle of a deathtrap.” The littlest one sent them a map of their ambushers. He gleefully downloaded the targeting data and fed it into his sensorium.

“Try for headshots; don’t trust body shots to put them down unless you fully destroy the torso. Do not let them bite you! They may have a ranged attack; keep an eye out for acidic spit or flesh hooks. Fighting retreat on my mark,” She warned them all.

Baldos, nestled inside his sarcophagus, just smiled and triggered the contingency he’d prepared days prior. The single-use transmitter array sent a short message through the Fortress’s jamming and over the Noosphere. Though he had tweaked the priority of who it would be delivered to just a little. The message would reach High Command eventually. The first recipients of the message just so happened to be every Dreadnought that had been present at the conclave, and their Chapters, of course.

The moment Nicole called “mark!” he didn’t hesitate to power his Lascannons and blast the closest Genestealer hiding above them; he didn’t bother to stop firing as he held down the trigger and panned his fire across the ceiling, blasting out chunks of material and foul Xenos alike.

Brother Silverwalker opened up with his Heavy Bolter, revealing his entire ammo pack was filled with the rare and expensive Retribution Bolt shells as he turned his firing arc into a charnel pit of Xenos viscera.

Nicole snap-drew her Inferno pistol, and it warmed his old hearts when her melta blast hit one of the ugly squid-faced bastards right in the head through the wall while her Ballistic Dendrite sniped the skull of another purestrain with a precise, high-powered las-shot. Her automata engaged the enemy while forming a defensive perimeter; one of the Scyllax grasped a leaping Genestealer with their servo arm, and their mechandenrite suite began rapidly dissecting the creature while it was still alive.

The rest of their team opened fire a millisecond later. Almost a dozen kills, and even more hits, but the monsters came in a vicious tide all the same, erupting from the walls, ceiling, and floor like a tide of insects. The first wave leaped down from the larger vents in the ceiling as more poured out of the tunnels behind and in front of them.

“Burn, Xenos!” Baldos laughed as he twisted his torso and filled that half of the corridor behind them with cleansing fire.

Moments later, the enemy were finally upon them, and a frantic melee ensued.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Venerable Bray'arth Ashmantle of the Salamanders

He was walking through his Chapter’s Strike Cruiser when a priority message reached him. He halted and processed it immediately. Attached was a set of coordinates, an encrypted Auspex reading, and a message.

Priority Message: Omega-One

Asset: Nicole Cavalerio.

Strategic Value: Absolute

Enemy: Xenos: Tyranids

Enemy Threat Level: Terminus+

Immediate reinforcements requested at my location. Biologis Proctor is a Genestealer. Trapped inside enemy fortress. Bring Ammo.

Sender: Venerable Ancient Baldos

“Hahaha! Brothers! Ready my drop pod immediately! Extra promethium canisters!" He yelled over the Vox as he turned and lumbered at speed for the launch bay.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

POV: Star Dragon’s Librarian Astrovas

He stood in front of the assembly in full kit, simply waiting.

“Astrovas. Explain,” Captain Bolaar spoke as he approached.

Astrovas simply gestured to three cards face up from his Tarot deck sitting in the middle of the nearby table.

The Space Marine. The Executioner. The Monster.

“I drew those for the Venerable two days ago, and I drew them again this morning,” Astrovas explained as he turned and gave Bolaar a look.

“Oh…” Bolaar narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Why did we let Nicole go if this was on the horizon?”

Astrovas hesitated and spoke carefully, “Well… I did some further drawing, and the Emperor’s Tarot indicated that the optimal outcome for this conflict involved – no, hinged on… telling as few individuals as possible… We elected not to burden Lady Cavalerio with knowledge of the possible ambush.”

Before Bolaar could respond, an emergency broadcast from Venerable Baldos arrived. He opened the message with a thought and scanned through it in moments, then he sighed softly.

Astrovas stood up smoothly, donned his helmet, and walked towards the waiting Storm Bird, already loaded with two squads of Battle Brothers and the pilots running through their preflight checks. “Captain, shall we?”

“This is going to kick up the hornets' nest, isn’t it?” Bolaar asked as he also donned his helmet and stomped after Astrovas.

“Yes, Brother, I’ve already warned Lord Drakios, and Archmagos Doll. Lord Drakios has wisely quadrupled the number of house Troops and Sisters guarding the docks while Archmagos Doll is securing our newer naval assets. The rest of the fleet is on a strict lockdown until we return with Lady Cavalerio and Saint Lael,” Astrovas said as he walked onboard.

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