I sit inside the Sword of Vengeance with my face contorted into a pout nobody can see. I stand atop the outermost wall of Halo Alphos, looking out into the vast flat wasteland that stands between the two hives. Elsewhere on the planet, there is greenery, but not here. Tanks roll past me one after the other, hundreds of them are preparing to roll across the wasteland and siege Cycladon - a task Sword of Vengeance is, unfortunately, unsuited for. In urban environments against infantry, light, and medium armor the Cerastus Knight Castigator is an avatar of death made manifest. Being out on an open plane against heavies or superheavies is a recipe for unpleasantness. I tap into the long-range communications to contact Master Doll up in orbit. "Master Doll." "I was wondering when you would call, Nicole." Doll replies. I let out a small huff. "You knew?" I ask a hint of accusation in my tone. "Of course, it was a tactical certainty. You should have determined the outcome yourself using the data available and the proper combat programs. Your knight is unsuited for siege-style warfare, and your value is too high for you to be put on the front lines. There is no need for you to boost morale any further. The news of your actions against the Scrapcode attack is making the rounds amongst the guard and PDF units." Doll says in an amused tone. I groan and slowly back away from the wall and turn back, making my way to the drop keep. "Alright, what am I supposed to do then?" I ask Doll pointedly. "What is the most effective use of your time?" Doll questions back. "Well… probably up on the Argent Drake doing my research, but it feels so awkward not being involved. I would like to be part of the strike team that goes after the STC fragment." I admit with a frown. "Well that team is mostly made of Astartes at the moment and they will be teleporting in once the shield is down. You did identify the Heretek's assumed primary base of operations… You are allowed to be part of the follow-up secondary team." Doll said firmly. "Fine, I guess. I should have someone come to retrieve the Sword of Vengeance?" I ask as I maneuver around a convoy of trucks carrying soldiers. I give a soft blare of my horn which makes them cheer. "The lander is already on its way and the drop pods have already been retrieved. You won't need to come up with the Knight, just get it on the sled. You can then return to work on your projects or assist us with recovering the Ordinatus. It's nearly free but your aid in waking the machine spirit would be welcome." Doll reminds me. "Yes, Master!" I reply perking up at the reminder. As soon as the lander arrives some Tech Priests roll out the large sled and I climb aboard. "Princeps, will you require the ladder?" One of them inquires. "Negative," I reply as I have the Sword of Vengeance kneel, curl up, and cycle through the power-down process before disconnecting from the throne. Once detached I head to the storage locker to grab my gear and exit my Knight. —------------------------------------------------------------------------ POV: Random Guardsman Tanker Greg Greg was leaning against the side of his Macharius Heavy Tank sipping from his canteen. Their lead vehicle had thrown their tracks during the Scrapcode attack and was getting a look over from the visiting Mechanicus inside their terrifying portable death fort that they dropped in from space. He didn't recognize a good quarter of the guns on some of the turrets or wielded by the Skitarii but he was quite sure he was happy with them being pointed at the enemy. "Holy shit, Greg! Look, it's the Knight!" his buddy Bill exclaimed as the Knight walked into the main staging ground. Greg shuddered in a mix of awe and primal fear at the sight. Something that big had no right to move that gracefully. They got to watch as a huge landing craft came down and landed in front of the Knight and pulled out a big metal pallet for it to climb onto. "They're taking the Knight back?" Bill asked, confused. "Yeah. We're going to a siege, Bill, it's our turn to show the visitors what we can do, don't worry, if the Knight is needed again they'll just drop it from orbit." Greg spoke with a smile watching as a hatch popped open on the back of the Knight. "The pilot is coming out!" Bill spoke excitedly. "Princeps, Bill, that's their title. Based on what I overheard the commander saying on the vox, they're the head of a Knight house. We have them to thank for keeping our gear from being scrambled." Greg was very grateful for that. They watched as a figure climbed out of the Knight and both men looked confused. "Is it me or is that Princeps… tiny?" Bill asked as he squinted. "No she… she looks shorter than my daughter!" Greg sputtered. "Your daughter is freakishly tall for her age, Greg. Maybe the Princeps is from a high-grav world or just short." Bill replied as he shrugged. "First of all my daughter is not freakishly tall, she is just above average for her age!" Greg growled defensively, "Secondly!" but both men shut up as the Princeps suddenly sprouted mechanical wings and used them to glide off the top of Knight to land in the courtyard where several of the spooky Skitarii and an Emperor's own Astartes moved over to take positions behind her. The Astartes and Skitarii only made the Princeps look smaller despite her wielding one of the big fancy Mechanicus axes. "She is a little cog ain't she?" Bill muttered as he stretched his legs and leaned back. Greg watched as the Princeps added several more individuals to her retinue before she started to walk off. Greg stiffened as he realized the group was headed their way. "Bill" He hissed "Bill! Act like the brass is here!" Greg quickly did his best to smooth his uniform and sit up straight. Once the Princeps was close enough he made the sign of the Aquila and bowed his head. The Astartes and various guards ignored him but the Princeps stopped and turned. "Guardsman." She spoke in a soft feminine voice right at Greg. Greg gulped and wearily glanced downwards. "Yes, Princeps?" She told him, "Have your field weapon serviced by one of the adepts here. The focusing aperture is wearing out. Make sure you thoroughly oil your sidearm, too. " "Yes, Princeps, thank you, Princeps. I will have it done!" He said with another deep bow. He got an approving nod from the little Princeps. She was wearing carapace armor which meant she had to be even smaller than he thought. Greg watched as she walked up to the tank and then touched the large dent in the side panel that had been there for years cocking her head. "Machine, I command you to mend." She commanded and with a groan of flexing metal, the dent that had annoyed their crew for years and prevented the turret from fully rotating righted itself. "The thirtieth round in your tank's magazine is a dud. Have it replaced immediately. May the Omnissiah bless your aim." The Princeps declared imperiously. Greg stood there dumbfounded and just nodded his head obediently as the Princeps pulled her hand back, nodded, and then turned to walk off with a pleased little strut in her step. Greg looked over at Bill who was just as surprised. "Tank Commander is gonna shit a brick when she sees this." Bill muttered looking down at his hip flask with a weary expression. "They're never gonna believe us." Greg groaned as he reached up to rub his temple. Not only had the Princeps told him to oil his hidden personal sidearm she also somehow knew one of their rounds was a dud just by touching the tank!? "Well, it's either we do as we were told by the Princeps or we ignore it and pretend we never saw anything," Bill admitted as he scratched the back of his head. "Frak that I'm doing it right now. Didn't you hear? The Princeps killed some blue-blood noble with his gun just by talking to it. If she tells me to fix my gun and a shell is bad. I'd bet my left ass cheek it's bad. Come on, let's go tell the Commander." Greg said as he climbed down the side of the Macharius. "Only the left one?" Bill asked as he followed Greg down. "I need the right one for pivoting in my seat." Greg replied as the pair walked off to find their commander. —------------------------------------------------------------------- Location: Edge of the Ur-Haven System A pitch-black shape punctures into reality in the furthest Mandeville Point of the system, scarcely half a kilometer long its shape resembles that of a Deathwatch Kill-ship only far sleeker with no obvious Imperial design aesthetics. Ancient technology ensures the vessel is entirely undetected as it slowly and silently slips through the void towards its destination cloaked and unnoticed by even the advanced sensors of the Argent Drake. Aimed for Ur-Haven the vessel should take barely a week to arrive. —-------------------------------------------------------------------- A small fleet of dagger-shaped void craft exited through a webway gate. Drukhari Reaver Captain Grakos growled and frowned. "Is this truly the closest gate to the system?" He examined their location and scowled at the distance to the system. "Yes, Lord Grakos." hissed his stellar navigator. "The system in question has no webway gates. This is the closest one." "Send one of the Corsair-Class escorts ahead to scout. I trust the words from that schemer-corrupted Mon-keigh as much as I trust my cousin with my wine. If the planet is ripe we will strike and seek out the prize. If not, we shall not bother." Grakos declared as he leaned back against his throne. "Heading set. We will arrive in seven cycles. The escort will be there in five, My Lord" The helmsman announced. "Acceptable. I am going to visit the pain slaves. Alert me if there are any changes to our course!" Grakos said as he leaped up off the throne and strode off into the depths of his Torture-class cruiser. —--------------------------------------------------------------------- Zeta 9-Kane peered down at the display in front of him. The fidelity, depth, and detail of the scans provided momentarily resulted in a pang of envy that was quickly repressed. He focused on the section around the exposed volcano Cannon barrel. "What are your thoughts?" asked Archmagos Doll. "Whoever hid the Ordinatus here was clever, but no shipwright. You would think that we would need to cut the entire section away but we only need to remove this outer plate and undo the connectors here, here, and here then all the layers will peel away cleanly." Zeta hummed softly. "How long do you estimate it will take?" Doll asked as he delegated tasks to the assisting Tech Priests. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. "A few hours at most to remove the paneling and expose the Ordinatus. I am no expert in such devices, but the barrel appears to have not suffered any damage due to exposure." Zeta-9 replied, sounding pleased. "Good. If it's operationally ready I would immensely enjoy taking it planetside." Doll said wistfully as his dendrites writhed around him. "My only worry is rousing the spirit of the ancient reactor. Waking the guns is trivial but that ancient engine heart is another matter." Zeta-9 said as he stepped away from the display. "I do not believe that is an issue. I have my Omnissiac Congregator and Princeps Cavalerio coming to assist us." Doll spoke confidently. "The Princeps? Is she necessary?" Zeta-9 was deeply impressed with her work on the station and the operational data of her Knight was baffling but he did not see how she would be of further aid with the engine. "I am sending you two data spools. Examine them." Doll said curtly. Zeta-9 got the two packets and stared, "I do not understand. These are the operating statistics for your vessel? They are impressive. I require the context, Archmagos." The second set was clearly better in every metric but he didn't fully understand how it was related to his inquiry. "The first are the rates that I maintained the ship at consistently for over a century. The second are the rates we have maintained for the last month after Princeps Cavalerio communed with our vessel." Doll stated. "Full vessel communion!? Surely there were other factors considered as well?" Zeta-9 said as he inspected the data. The increase was outside any margin of error across the board. "There were and they were systematically examined and excluded until only one variable remained." Doll said with an almost gleeful undertone to his binaric speech. "I retract my previous inquiry, Archmagos… Do you think the Princeps would consider communing with some of my production vessels?" He asked tentatively. Doll replied with an amused chortling laugh "You can ask her yourself later. Now let us free our long-lost Sagittar!" —------------------------------------------------------------ Once all the armor plates were removed hours later they revealed the slumbering form of the Ordinatus Sagittar resting tucked within its nook on the hull. The engine was sitting at an angle in its recess which explained how the cannon managed to face straight up compared to the hull. The massive tracks were all there as were the Volkite Culverins, the locks holding the tracks in place were carefully disengaged and the Ordinatus was towed off of the hull and moved directly into the belly of the largest transport hauler they had available. As soon as it was in place the Tech Priests and adepts started to swarm over the engine. Not a micrometer was left unchecked. "What a glorious sight we are graced with. Praise the Omnissiah." Doll said reverently as he clasped his arms behind his back and soaked in the sight of the proud engine. Zeta-9 felt humbled as he stood in the presence of such a rare and powerful machine. "It's magnificent but also… melancholic. So many rare engines of its kind were lost in the fires of the schism." One of the red Tech Priests walked over and bowed deeply. "Magos, Archmagos, external checks are underway. We have connected a power feed to the engine and unlocked the command room so that you may perform the system checks." "We will begin immediately!" Doll declared. Zeta-9, Altair, and the Archmagos himself immediately went to inspect the engine. —-------------------------------------------------------------- Once I got back into orbit, rather than rushing to see the Ordinatus, I went to my room in the Argent Drake to offload my loot and take a nap. Master Doll and the Magi should have everything handled. The only issue I might be able to help with there is if the machine spirit is being particularly unruly. As I got up from my nap, it struck me that I was fully viewing the little private space on the ship as home. It feels strange that the last few days have been so eventful, yet they're only a fraction of the time I've spent in the universe thus far. I am feeling quite refreshed so I take the time to perform maintenance on all my gear and meditate. During this relaxing period, I devote a lot of processing power towards scanning and examining the intricacies of the Draconic Scales. I already have detailed data on the Dragon Scale power armor suit from Master Doll, I just need to find a way to suitably mesh them without compromising either form of protection. I doubt this will be a quick project though. I roll one of the Eldar Monofilament grenades around in my palm as I study it. Most of them are going in my vault but I end up putting one of them in a pouch on my belt. Unless I figure out how to make the Imperial equivalent they're a potent but limited resource. I place my new ancient dueling pistol in the case that holds my pistol collection and I feel a pang of unconscious delight and satisfaction, my implants note a small release of serotonin in my brain as I settle it into place. "If I need to dress up you'd be a lovely hip accessory." I say as I pat the weapon affectionately. I end up hanging the Power Pickaxe on one of my walls after giving it a good cleaning. I'll figure out who to pass it along to later, but for now it looks quite nice resting at an exact 45-degree angle on the otherwise bare wall. I also contact the deck officer and arrange for a block of quarters near Lael's room for her complement of Sororitas. I meander down to the Astartes barracks to check on the heresy-era speeders. They've been stripped of paint and the old iconography. The machines themselves seem indifferent and fine with this and I get the feeling they had not been used before they were placed in the container. They're eager to fulfill their purpose and seem fine as long as their operators are Astartes. Most of the other Astartes vehicles that had filled the bay have been sent to the surface for the siege. Once the siege is under way I will want to stick close to the teleportarium. "I wonder if I should bring a few of my other Automata… I suppose it depends on how many individuals comprise the second team. If there are free slots I can bring some of my offensive Battle-Automata in addition to the Scyllax Guardian-Automata." I mutter aloud as I meander my way towards the hangar. I end up arriving just in time following behind two huge Hellfire Missiles that had been prepared and are being delivered to the Ordinatus. It's a bit wild to think that there is an Ordinatus platform that could hold six of the things. They're even longer and thinner than the Deathstrike Missiles. When I enter the bay I spot the large lander currently docked to the ship with the Ordinatus in its primary hold. I pause taking in the huge machine's presence. "It looks like the two mounts for the missiles were copied from the Ordinatus Golgotha," I mutter as I watch the teams deliver the missiles. "Indeed, though slightly smaller than the ones on its larger cousin," TH-102 says as he walks over. "Master TH-102," I say politely with a bow. "Princeps, We were looking to have you commune with the Ordinatus before we move it down to the surface. The engine runs, however, the main reactor is showing unusual signs of distress that we have been unable to identify. The Machine Spirit within is old and powerful and has thus far rebuffed our attempts to commune with it." TH-102 warns me. I nod, "I will gladly attempt communion." I reply as we walk towards the rear of the Ordinatus where the main reactor sits at the base of the cannon resting directly over the primary control room. Inside the operations center for the engine Master Doll, Master Altair, and Master Zeta-9 are all working with a handful of Tech Priests assisting them. I am welcome with bursts of binary from the Magi which I reply to instantly. I immediately head towards the central dias and start the ritual of communion since the preparations have already been made. The Machine Spirit is a towering growling constantly shifting shape crackling with power and the promise of violence. I offer my supplications towards it and introduce myself which seems to draw its full attention to me. It feels like a hot and heavy weight pressing down on me but I manage to endure it, which seems to calm the engine somewhat. "What troubles you, great Machine?" I inquire and it growls back. I get impressions and feelings rather than words. The Engine is angry at being neglected for so long, it wants to be used. To destroy its enemies, but most pressingly, it is angry that its name has been forgotten. "What is your name?" I ask and the spirit hesitates. It attempts to convey a mental image of a volcano to me however the image is not very distinct. "A volcano? From which planet?" I inquire and it gives me a snapshot impression of a planet that is clearly Terra. "A Terran volcano? One of the ancient ones?" I get a push of approval. "I will name the most prominent and largest volcanos I know of, please stop me when I reach your name." "Kilauea, Mauna Loa, Tambora, Krakatoa, Fuji, Kilimanjaro, St. Helens, Maelifell, Vesuvius." I pause as the Spirit presses against me instantly. "Vesuvius? Ah, the great destroyer of the ancient city of Pompeii, one of the most dangerous volcanos in all of Terra. It is my pleasure to meet you, Vesuvius. I shall convey the greatness of your name to your new operators. We shall ensure you take to the field where you may sate your wrath upon the shields of the hive city of Cycladon." I say bowing politely to the engine which rumbles with contentment as it retracts the pressure of its focus from me. I offer my promises and retreat from the communion, opening my eyes I see the Magi all staring down at me. I've apparently been sweating for some time if the dampness in my robes is any indication. "This engine is named for an Ancient Terran volcano. Vesuvius. Vesuvius wishes to be addressed by its name. Vesuvius also demands to vent its wrath upon our foes as soon as possible like its namesake; it has built up a powerful fury that is ready to erupt." I explain as someone passes me a small towel which I use to wipe my face. The most update n0vels are published on novelꞁire.net "The fluctuations in the reactor have ceased! The Volcano cannon is ready for priming! All systems green!" reports a Tech Priest stationed at the forward controls. "The great engine Vesuvius asks from us and we shall deliver! Vesuvius shall ride to war immediately!" Doll declares over the local vox, earning a cheer from the crews both inside and outside. The massive engine rumbles in approval in response. I smile and slowly get up before bowing, "I will take my leave, Master Doll. I expect I will be hearing from you regarding the city shields soon." I say with a small amused giggle. "I believe you are correct, Nicole." Doll replies, though it's clear he is just as excited as the other Magi are to take Vesuvius out for its maiden voyage. I depart swiftly and less than an hour later the preparations are finished and the lander containing Vesuvius departs for Ur-Haven. After watching the lander depart I sniff myself and wrinkle my nose "Blegh, I need a bath."