I slump back into a chair feeling a wave of relief as I finally ran out of deuterium. The Purest Shadow's torpedoes are done, as are the Argent Drake's and a dozen man-portable and vehicular class warheads. Unfortunately, that means I have no warheads left over to make Cyclonic mines. The first layer of mines, one of three, is currently being laid using conventional anti-ship mines. "Master Doll, do you have a minute? I wanted to discuss something with you." I contact Master Doll over the noosphere, kicking my legs back and forth. "Certainly, what is on your mind, Nicole?" He replies almost instantly. "I have run out of deuterium. So, I cannot make any additional Cyclonic warheads. However, I was going over the list of raw materials we have access to, and I was wondering if it would be feasible for us to produce a few atomic mines. Ur-Haven has a stockpile of fissile materials of sufficient purity." I explain while forwarding the list of materials. "You want to make atomic mines?" Master Doll asks, a hint of delight in his voice. "Yes, I think a majority should be put in the foremost layer of mines and a few in the second layer to make the enemy wary of the third. With your assistance, we could throw together a dozen or two in a day." I provide my reasoning and even pull up a few potential schematics I found while digging around in the heavily restricted files. "I will make arrangements. We will make it a modest event and allow some of the other Magi and Tech Priests to participate. The chance to participate in the construction of a holy atomic does not come by often," Master Doll points out. "I will also forward your idea for the placement of the atomic mines when I convene to discuss the tactical plans for our defense." He added, sounding pleased. "I will leave it to you Master. I think I am going to take a break for the rest of the day. The alloy is in the crucible but it's going to take a few days to separate the auramite. The scale blanks for my armour are ready. I have also constructed the… vehicle… I will launch PR-103 from." I look over at the horrible inbred child of a boarding torpedo and hyper-sonic missile. It only needed to work once and Pride could take the G-forces without liquefying so… probably fine. "Do let me know when the auramite separation is ready. I am eager to watch how you process the material and construct your armour." Master Doll says before we end the communication. Disconnecting from the call I get up and head for the hangar bay. "Baldos, Lael, Delta-A3, I am going to talk to Pride and then I'm spending the rest of the day off. You are all welcome to do the same." I tell them, getting a plethora of affirmative responses. I slip into the bay and smile. I've learned the name of the shiny and silver Stormbird. The Comet of Antiquity sits in its cradle ready to launch at a moment's notice. I enter the aircraft and securely close the hatch behind me. My eyes glow softly as I walk over and open the stasis casket. "Hello, Pride. Welcome to the Argent Drake." I say as he steps out and looks around. His head snaps upwards and he takes a half step back. He hums "I see now. This puts things into perspective. I greet you, Great Argent." he gives a full bow and I briefly detect a flicker of acknowledgement in the ambient code streams that emanate from the ship. "Given you are bereft of protections I assume it is not yet time for me to sally forth?" he asks, turning back to me. "Correct. I wanted to speak with you and allow you time to properly arm yourself. I have devised a high-speed boarding transport for you and I intend to launch you at an enemy vessel which you will engage entirely on your own." I say bluntly. "That sounds delightful." Pride purrs as he walks over to the other side of the shuttle and withdraws several attachments and weapons, equipping them to his chassis. By the time he finishes donning the extra armour, he looks quite intimidating. "Go on, ask your questions, Daughter of Silver." "First question, do you have the STC for making Phosphex?" I ask politely as I sit in one of the nearby seats. "No. I do not." Pride admits giving me a curious expression. "That STC is rather obscure. I am not aware of any copies either. I assume you have managed to secure such a weapon. Interesting." He straps a sword with a long, thin blade to his hip. "Is that an Estoc design?" I ask squinting at the blade. Pride smirks "A power Estoc sized for my glorious self. One I can wield in tandem with my ranged weapons and my power halberd." "Plus your claws, I see, the blades give you additional reach. You can also duel others in the art of blades." I mutter giving a small nod. He nods, equipping his graviton and pulse weapons. "Next question." "Do you have any relevant information on the location known as the Procession of the Damned?" I ask with a small smile. Pride blinks "You continue to surprise me. I may have some navigational data stored in the shuttle for that region. However, it is over a millennia out of date." He admits as he finishes up by strapping several melta breaching charges to his back. "Next question." "Do any of the sun-snuffers or the mechanivores remain and If so where are they?" I ask softly, watching Pride closely. He recoils slightly, "I… do not know. I do not believe so." He eyes me warily. I follow up with. "What about the STC or plans for the Castigator Titan? Ah, but not the one on Chaeronia, that one has been destroyed." Pride studies me for a long moment, his red photoreceptor eyes shrinking to pinpricks, "You are an utterly terrifying creature… I may know the location of such a repository, like most other information; it is out of date." He retreats towards the stasis casket. "Well, you can think about it, if you'd like to eventually share. Sleep well, Pride. Next time you wake it will be for war." I say as he steps back again and the stasis field envelops him once more. I know I could push Pride for answers but I view the fact he didn't try to kill me once during our exchange as a sign of positive development. "Alright, I need a bath." I say as I stretch and exit the Comet. —--------------------------------------------------- POV: Arken Drakios Google seaʀᴄh N0velFire.ɴet "Welcome back everyone. I take it you've had a productive week?" He glanced around the table, the mood seemed to be good. "Extremely productive," Lord Inquisitor Striker stated as she tapped the table. "The Purest Shadow has been rearmed and repaired. I dealt with a few remnant heretics hiding out here in Halo Alphos. What news do we have from the orbital side of things?" She inquired. "We have a full accounting of the local defense forces. The mine layer is operational and has started deploying the first layer of mines. We are producing more. Archmagos Doll has a suggestion regarding the mines." Zeta 9-Kane explained calmly. "I do. I believe it may be prudent to prepare a small subset of atomic mines. Nicole has exhausted our current supply of deuterium for Cyclonic warheads, however, we have the material on hand for a dozen or so atomic weapons. She suggested most of them be put in the first line of mines and a few in the secondary line." Doll spoke with a pleased tone, his concerns with the idea having been assuaged. "Prudent. Such weapons are more effective when they're a surprise. It will make the enemy hesitate and tread warily around the second and third lines of mines. I approve." Drakios said, stroking his beard. "I approve." Governor Aarark said a moment later. Lady Striker nodded her approval and that settled the matter. Zeta 9-Kane nodded and spoke up. "While the mine layer will likely end up as a fire ship once the mines are ready, we will have pulled together the full system defense fleet. We have two Bastion-class Defense Monitors sporting Titanforge Lances and Mezoa Dual Dorsal Pattern Macrocannons. One Heavy System Defense Ship. Six System Ships with Dorsal Mars Pattern Macrocannons, Prow Sunsear Laser Batteries, and a dozen or so support tugs. This is in addition to the Halo itself which we have managed to ready eight squadrons of fighters and six squadrons of bombers though their quality is lacking when compared to the models fielded by the Argent Drake. The Isolde Bulk Clipper has been finished and turned over to Lord Drakios for operation. Of the two still under construction one has its weapons and shielding operational. We have also started the process of erecting additional anti-air and anti-orbital weapons around Cycladon. Though some of them will likely not be finished in time." Zeta 9-Kane said before turning towards Arken. "With the Clipper, that puts my fleet at four. The Argent Drake, the Adamant Hammer, and the Hunter's Lady. Each ship is capable of fighting slightly above its weight class. The Lady as a Firestorm Frigate sports a Sunhammer Lance in her prow, and a dorsal Sunsear Laser Battery making her ideal for precise strikes at range. The Hammer has a Sunsear Laser Battery on her dorsal side and Lathe Grav-Culverins on her broadsides giving her a solid amount of punch for her class. Aside from my fleet, we have the Lord Inquisitor's Purest Shadow and the Enduring Deal, a Trader Class vessel owned and operated by Captain Morgen Cook." He sighed and looked around the table. "We also have the Eldar light cruiser but I fully expect them to act on their own to aid us as they see fit and as such we should plan as though they were not present." "It sounds like such a considerable force but also somehow not enough." Governor Aarark muttered wearily. "Until the enemy arrives we won't know their numbers. If we were merely fighting off a raiding force I'd put it sorely in our favor but Eligael is known to possess a Desecrator-class Battleship, the Prophet of Distortion, and we should expect a full support fleet in addition to whatever favors he made or deals he cut for aid. By my estimations, them outnumbering us two to one would be a best-case scenario." Agatha said curtly. "The Argent can handle any battleship one on one." Drakios said confidently before taking a sip from his wine glass. "Possibly even two but things get dicey from there. As my grandfather once said, fair fights are for suckers. We need to stack our deck as much as possible. We have the defensive advantage and they likely expect the system to have been softened up but we need to be prepared for anything." "With the Argent's Teleportarium operational we're prepared to conduct lightning strike insertions and cripple key enemy vessels," Bolaar said before frowning. "That said, we need to be prepared for the enemy to conduct similar tactics. Traitor Astartes may be present." "Nicole has prepared an insertion vehicle with which she intends to deploy the Man of Iron against our foes." Doll says, looking amused. "I am still unsure if I approve of such an… unusual tactic." The Inquisitor said as she crossed her arms. "Either PR-103 wins and the enemy vessel is crippled or the enemy wins, destroying him for us and triggering his explosive contingency. Both are favorable outcomes." Doll countered. "I suppose." She shrugged, dropping the matter. "Luckily once they arrive we will have a few days to prepare and take their measure. The distant Mandeville Point finally aids us for once. We've deployed a few minor satellites as well to ensure we can identify their vessels effectively." The Governor muttered, looking pensive. "I understand that this is a daunting prospect for any governor. An invasion of your world is not an easy thing to deal with, but you are not alone. We stand ready to aid you in the defense of your world." Arken said firmly. —-------------------------------------------------------------- POV: Venerable Baldos With Nicole finally taking a break from her frantic schedule of repairs and crafting. Baldos finally had time to catch up with his brothers. "Silverfury, Dragonmaw, Solantar." He growled as he settled his chassis into the docking rack. "Venerable," Silverfury replied politely "Welcome back." "How was babysitting?" Solantar asked coyly from his Ironclad. "It was… Interesting. If unfortunately, uneventful this time." Baldos admitted, "Though, that will change soon." "Interesting how?" Brother Dragonmaw inquired. "The Princeps got quite upset with the Drivemaster on the Inquisitorial vessel. The poor bastard will be lucky to keep his head. While over there she did repairs and maintenance on the Deathwatch Power Armour." Baldos rumbled. "What's so odd about that?" Dragonmaw asked. "The suits were all of different variants. Variants she identified at a glance. She thought nothing of it but how many Magi could repair a suit of Ultramarine Praetor Artificer armour, an ancient mark four Maximus set, Space Wolf runic Armour, mark eight Errant, and mark six Corvus. All in a matter of days?" Baldos asked them. "Perhaps the Archmagos?" Silverfury muttered contemplating the issue. "Perhaps, if that was all he focused on." Baldos chuckled amused. "That's not all she did is it?" Dragonmaw asked. "No." Blados admitted, elaborating no further as he regarded the three dreadnoughts. "Are you all ready? Soon we will face the traitors, they will likely have traitor Astartes support. They must be purged." "I am ready." Silverfury declared as he flexed the arms of his Contemptor. "I am ready." Dragonmaw declared as he racked the slides on his Deredeo. "I too am ready!" Solantar boasted from his Ironclad. "I hope you are. Fighting the traitors is far different than purging the Xenos. I know it has been some time since either of you fought the traitors. Fortify your minds, rally your will, to hesitate is death. The enemy will show you horrors unimaginable. You must not break for you are the bastions of the Chapter." Baldos spoke proudly. "Venerable, since you are feeling verbose, perhaps a tale?" Silverfury asked eagerly. "I do not believe they know the tale of your first entombment." Dragonmaw and Solatnar both perked up visibly with interest as they focused their attention on Baldos. Baldos was silent as he considered the request. "It was a long time ago, just after the Heresy. A period we called The Tempering. The Legion was in utter despair, traumatized by the grand betrayal. Some of us clung to righteous anger, seeking out the remnants of our foes with fervor. It was no fantastic melee in which I was maimed. I was simply struck from behind by a traitor. I lost two limbs to his deft, lightning-fast strikes… but it was the venom on the blade that was the worst part, not made to kill but to inflict agony. They wanted us to suffer, the traitors reveled in our agony. I was saved by a comrade and given the honor of eternal service. We were few then and I had survived the gauntlet just long enough to earn it, would you believe I started the war as a scout? By the time I had rejoined the Legion was fracturing with the Second Founding. Battles of blame for our failure and dangerous ideals that went against the spirit of the Primarch's teachings. In the end, I chose to depart and join a new Chapter. The Star Dragons have defended the stars ever since… I think back on those times and know that I was a coward. Unable to tell my brothers the truth of what I had witnessed. By the time I awoke from my internment, it was too late." A wave of confusion spread to all three of the Dreadnoughts but they all hesitated to ask for clarification. Baldos spoke again but changed the subject, "I take it you three have heard the interesting news? Roboute Guilliman walks amongst us once more and now serves as Imperial Regent. None of you have basked in the presence of a Primarch. It is a wondrous thing, one I hope you experience someday. I will rest now. Wake me in five days." Baldos said abruptly as he finally dared to allow himself to rest. —------------------------------------------------------------------ Word had spread and now a multitude of Tech Priests from around the various vessels and across the Halo had come by to participate in the construction of the sacred atomics. Doll was pleased Nicole had finally taken a rest, and her idea for the mines was a good one. "How much material did we manage to procure?" He asked Xor who had been managing the radioactive materials closely. "We ended up with enough for twenty-four atomics. However, we will need to use three different patterns for the different fissile materials. All will use the most efficient implosion design and fit within the standard mine." Xor replied as he separated the crates into small piles. "Excellent. That should allow for most of the visitors to participate even if it is just to tighten a bolt or perform one of the various rites." Doll scanned the crowd. There were a number of familiar faces but just as many new unknown individuals eager to participate. Doll signaled for Adept Technomancer-at-Arms Cleon to move towards the third set of materials. As the time ticked over he raised a hand and the large forge chamber quieted down. "For those of you unfamiliar, I am Archmagos Fabricator Akellonon Doll. I bid you all welcome to this rare event. You have been invited and chosen to participate in the construction of a sacred atomic weapon that will be deployed against the most hated enemies of the Mechanicus, the Dark Mechanicum!" There were some vocal cheers in the name of the Omnissiah and the Machine God but most just hissed or warbled their support in binary. "We will be constructing several devices. The schematics will be disseminated to you, I suggest you study them and your directions closely. However, due to the number of participants some of you may only get to perform a single step or perhaps two. Do not despair for this is a project to be done together. We are each a cog in the great machine that is the Mechanicus and together we can accomplish great things! Every step is critical to the function of these sacred atomic devices. That said only the selected individuals rated for handling the fissile materials may do so. If anyone not rated for handling touches the materials they should report to the nearest medicare immediately. Myself, Magos Xor-XXVII, Magos Altair, Magos Zephyr, Magos Zeta 9-Kane, Magos Osook, and Princeps Cavalerio will be making rounds to observe your progress. Perfect executions of your role may result in unique rewards. However, underperforming or overstepping will result in your exclusion from the pool." Doll clapped his hands together loudly. "Begin!" —---------------------------------------------------------- POV: Adept Technomancer-at-Arms Cleon Cleon was trying his best to stifle how nervous he felt. He glanced around as a cadre of Tech Priests approached him as he stood next to the materials they would be using to make their atomic. "Greetings, I am Technomancer-at-Arms Cleon. I have been selected to manipulate the fissile materials for our project. I look forward to working with you. Shall we start with Introductions?" The Priests looked at one another before one stepped forward pulling back her hood to respond. "I am Tech Priest Exploritor Rayke Claw-Jack, currently pressed into service aboard the Purest Shadow. A pleasure to meet you." The claw of her manipulator dendrite clacked once from over her shoulder as she finished. "This one is Tech Priest L3-3T. Enginseer aboard the Argent Drake." Said a tired-looking Tech Priest in well-worn robes. "Tech Priest Semioticon 00-Rhor, Shrewd Validator of the Forbidden Database, of the Purest Shadow, well met." The Tech Priest replied coldly. "Excavator L-201, Accomplished Logician of the Hallowed Matrix from the Ur-Haven Halo station, I look forward to working with you all." The last Tech Priest in their group introduced himself even as he peered over the materials. "Excellent. Confirming we are all using the schematic for constructing an implosion-type three device?" Cleon asked as he skimmed the schematic. "Confirmed." was the immediate reply from everyone. "Then let us begin by taking a full inventory. Then start the initial rites of purification." He suggested and all of them immediately got to work. Cleon found after the first few minutes that working with his team was fun, they each worked like professionals. When they were unsure of the exact method for performing a step or wording in a rite they spoke up and asked. It was all so efficient. Piece by piece the atomic took shape in front of them, each part exactly placed where it was expected, like a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. Cleon was so focused on aligning the bricks of fissile material in a perfect sphere that he didn't notice their observer until she spoke. "Cleon! It's been a while, good to see you. I hope you have been well. Mmm, your group is proceeding quickly. Oh! The join on that inner weld is excellent. The pattern your group used for packing the explosives is efficient and clever too! The fledgling machine spirit is quite pleased with you all!" She babbled after barely a few seconds of examining their work. Cleon and the other Tech Priests all froze at once. Cleon turned his head and looked down to lock eyes with the smiling face of Princeps Cavalerio. "Thank you, Princeps. Your concern is appreciated. I am quite well. My team is quite skilled. May I inquire as to the nature of the possible reward the Archmagos mentioned?" Cleon asked, trying to ignore the heated gazes of his team bearing down on the back of his head. "Oh, yes well the top ten or so will be rewarded by being permitted to observe and possibly assist as I forge my unique scale power armour once the auramite is ready in the next day or so." She said in that same perky voice that she always used. "I will come check again when you're done! I need to go stop Team Eight from installing their detonator upside down. Bye!" She then scampered off. Cleon swallowed and turned back to the team who were all staring at him. "Cleon, please clarify your relationship to the Princeps." Rayke asked. "Acquainted. I was responsible for awakening her from stasis along with Magos Biologis Gertrude." Cleon replied quickly. That seemed to mollify the team somewhat. "Did the Princeps say she would be forging with auramite!?" L-201 was practically vibrating with desire. "I am… confused." Rayke said "I was told the Princeps is a psyker. She did not feel or look like a psyker. I have interacted with several hundred psykers while onboard the Purest Shadow. We've been helping pick up tithes like a Black Ship due to the rift. I usually have a good sixth sense about them." She clarified, looking puzzled. "She is. Her implants act as psy-suppressors. Could that be the reason?" Cleon wondered as he glanced around at the rest of the team. "I have met individuals with psy-suppressors as well. She did not evoke the same response." Rayke said as she glanced after the Princeps. "A puzzle for another time. I assume you are all as interested as I am in watching her forge. We should endeavor to finish the sacred atomic to the best of our abilities." Cleon said as he coaxed the team's focus back onto the device. "Exploritor Rayke and I recently had the pleasure of receiving repair recommendations from the Princeps. They were… enlightening. If her forging is anything like her repair methods I expect to be inspired." 00-Rhor said as he focused and started inserting some of the final pieces. They were not the first team to finish but while they completed their atomic fourth they were quite pleased with the results of their combined efforts. "Well done everyone. Your work was exemplary," Cleon said proudly. Did you know this story is from NovelHub? Read the official version for free and support the author. "The only question is will it be enough," L3-3T muttered aloud. Their group moved off to the side as the Archmagos came by to inspect their device, when he left without speaking they felt a modicum of panic. However, when several of the other Magi did the same they simply grew confused. The event was declared complete and their devices would be placed into mines and deployed in the next shipment. Cleon was about to return to his station when they got the Noosphere notification. Congratulations. Your performance has earned you the privilege to observe and aid in a rare forging event. Time and Location to follow. Do not be late. Cleon turned but before he could call out, the rest of his group were already celebrating as they confirmed they also received invitations. —------------------------------------------------------------ After the event had concluded he immediately sought out Doll. "Archmagos, I believe that went well." Xor said as he approached. "Indeed, no one exploded, we raised morale, educated some promising Tech Priests, and most importantly saved time in the construction of the atomics for the mines." Doll said, sounding quite pleased. "Certainly this was not just an excuse to have Nicole avoid any strenuous labor and let her socialize." Xor commented dryly. "Of course not," Doll blatantly lied. "That was simply a side effect of this morale-boosting activity." "I am curious about that reward. You are certain this is a reward and not an excuse to have the skilled adepts aid Nicole with manual labor during her forging?" He asked, giving the Archmagos a suspicious look. Doll smiled, "What? No no no! It's a valuable experience that they can witness and participate in firsthand. Have you seen the specifications of what she plans to make? Any bonus labor they manage to perform is merely a happy coincidence." Doll assured his colleague. Xor didn't believe a word of it. "We will want to monitor the situation. Considering what happened last time Nicole got too focused on forging." Xor reminded Doll. "That's true, it might be good to have plans or a small project on hand in the case of sudden onset inspiration." Doll muttered tapping his chin thoughtfully. "You're being an incorrigible mooch and showing blatant favoritism." Xor pointed out. "Does that mean you don't plan on attending the forging with your own project in mind?" Doll shot back with a knowing look. "Ahem! Well… I didn't say that. It would be a shame to miss such an interesting process," Xor spoke smoothly as they departed for the Manufactorum, his arms clasped behind his back. —-------------------------------------------- POV: Farseer Anvial Veilwalker Anvial was lounging in the command chair. Grateful that the cadre of Ynnari he had come to rescue included a few bone singers. They were still hard at work making the light cruiser habitable and the geometry less jagged. Though there was only so much they could do to the Burning Scale Class Light Cruiser without a trip to a craftworld to refit in drydock. As some of the oldest and most experienced individuals in their group, Lios-Cían and his wife Sylenn Zann, had taken up the role of his seconds. Their familiarity with the vessel was also a welcome boon. It was just a shame they hadn't managed to secure as many as he hoped. They lacked the number of pilots to utilize all of the Razorwings and Voidravens in the hangar. Anvial was wearing the Weeping Stones given to him by the little oddity. He cast the runes of fate and once more he was denied a concise response. The fates were being fickle and outside forces were at play. There was only one consistent result for his future. Breaking the pact he had forged with the child led to his doom. He had always intended to make good on his word, the runes merely solidified his path, though the consistency of the result of that train of thought was mildly vexing. Anvial brushed his hand over the chest holding the three spirit stones and produced from a pouch a fourth stone, it was quite large and had felt the touch of the infinity circuit before, even exceeding the size of the impressive stone in the chest. It glowed with a potent blue light. He stood slowly, stone in hand as he scooped up the case and made his way down to the lower cargo hold. They had targeted this vessel specifically. Anvial was quite certain the Drukhari had no idea the ship wasn't what it appeared to be. It had been altered into that of a Burning Scale Class Light Cruiser but at its core Anvial could tell it was still a Wraithship. "Crimson Fang or should I call you by your true name, Ghost?" He asked as he pressed a hand against a side panel and channeled his psychic might into it, coaxing the door open. The compartment was dark but Anvial walked in, boldly passing a row of innate constructs. In the center of the chamber was what he sought. A large slumped chassis sat waiting patiently as it had for millennia. "It's time to finally wake up grandmother." Anvial whispered, giving the spirit stone a gentle kiss as he reached up to the head of the sleeping construct and inserted the large glowing spirit stone. Anvial began the process of awakening as the head slowly closed around the stone. The wraithbone limbs twitched as they surged with energy. Until finally, the newly awakened Wraithseer raised her head. "Little Anvial?" Looking down at her hands she paused "It appears that I failed. How long have I slumbered?" "Just a few hundred years, Grandmother. Locating a suitable Wraithseer took longer than I anticipated. Also… I have joined the Ynnari." Anvial admitted. Krele-Caec Veilwalker slowly stood and took her first step as a Wraithseer, one hand reached out to grasp the Wraithspear waiting nearby and used it to steady herself. "You always were a troublemaker. Where are we?" "Aboard an old Wraithship that the Drukhari were using, Starlight's Ghost. You should know High Priestess Yvraine has devised a method to channel Ynnead and free our cousins from their thirst. The Yncarne walks." Anvial said shaking his head "However we are currently aiding some humans, there is a large enemy war host heading this way. We have pledged to aid them." "I see… What did they offer in return?" She asked him as she glanced down, spotting the rubies hanging from his neck. Anvial opened the chest showing off the stones. "Aside from the vessel we currently reside and the Weeping Stones I wear? These three tears, and an Emblem of the Broken Chain." Anvial said as he produced the emblem and spirit stones for her examination. Channeling her foresight, Krele-Caec hummed. "Those are more than sufficient. You chose the right path, child. That… creature you have struck a bargain with is not to be trifled with, they are an usurper of fate. Those tears will suffice. Come. We will rouse a Wraithlord and two Wraithguards. There are scant few days before the enemy arrives." She said firmly striding past Anvial towards one of the slumbering Wraithlords. "It's wonderful to see you too, Grandmother" Anvial said affectionately, getting a loud scoff in response as he followed after her. —--------------------------------------------------------------- POV: Nicole, Location: the Argent Drake Manufactorum. I take a deep breath and carefully pluck the last of the hairs I will need. I cut it into precise little slivers that will be set into the base adamantine layer of the scales around the miniaturized Conversion Field technology. The base layer scales have already all been micro-etched with the fractal Incantations of Defense. I wipe a bit of sweat from my forehead. The heat is intense, even clad in my best heat-resistant clothing under my forging servo-harness. The forge crucibles are less than fifty meters away and glowing hot as the metal inside is super-heated to the requisite temperature to separate the auramite. The container I have been keeping close tabs on groans as a valve opens on the side to drain out the upper floating layer of molten slag. It's not the only crucible full of material currently being heated and prepared but the one holding the auramite requires my full attention. I hear the sound of metal feet behind me and spare a glance back to an approaching Master Doll. A few of the Magi and a line of the two dozen selected Tech Priests follow him like a line of eager and curious ducklings. "Nicole, you've been busy." Master Doll says aloud looking at the workspace I've claimed which is covered in thousands of the little bases for the scales, various sizes a few larger and a few smaller ones scattered around. "Yes, Master Doll, the auramite is nearly ready. With your arrival, we only need to wait for the last three guests." I reply with a smile. I turn to address the Tech-Priests. "Welcome everyone to this rather unique forging event. Arrayed before me as you can see are adamantine scales. These scales have been precision-constructed by the artisans of the Argent Drake and personally etched and engraved by me over the last two weeks. What I plan to forge is a unique set of personal power armour. I will be using a multitude of techniques, many of which are ancient and known only to a scant few individuals. I have brought you here to aid me in the processing. I will personally be manipulating and applying auramite to the bases, unfortunately, I cannot answer any questions you have regarding auramite as none of you meet the clearances and for any of you to manipulate or attempt to forge it would be a serious crime. You can still aid me and are welcome to glean whatever secrets and techniques you can. Attempting to copy this armour design would be foolish as this set is designed to intermesh not only with my unique suite of implants but with my psychic abilities. Your job will be to compress and match the adamantine bases to the ceramite scale plates and ensure the auramite layer properly binds the two. Producing the outer plates will be my trio of assistants. Ah, there they come now!" I say as I look towards the entrance. Four Astartes walk past the group as I introduce them, "May I introduce Brother Eradicus Azazel Rostar, Tech Marine of the Dark Angels currently serving the Deathwatch, alongside him are brothers Keraar Cogmane and Arvick Cogfist, Tech Marines of the Star Dragons," I pause and look at the unexpected fourth individual. "Brother Morlith Ixion I was not expecting you." "I'm here for moral support, Princeps. While I am interested in observing the forging I do not have the skill to aid in such a precise project. I might be confident in helping if it was something big, thick, and easily fixed with a hammer like a bulkhead door." He explains as he takes a spot out of the way. "I see. That is acceptable. Anyway, these three fine Tech Marines will be handling the ceramite to make the outer layer of the scales, the Hexagramatic warding, and the final laser reflective coating. Now before we begin I need to stress that this is both a rewarding experience and participation is voluntary. If you feel overwhelmed or cannot handle the task at hand please take a step back and allow one of the other participants to take your place. This is not a sprint. I expect this to last several days. The Archmagos and Magi are here to observe and will only step in if necessary. Once I start I will not stop forging." I scan the crowd of eager faces as my words sink in. "As an aside, the last time I was focused on a crafting project there were… side effects. If you feel a moment of inspiration or an epiphany it is recommended you take a step back and write it down or meditate on your gains." The foreign Tech Priests all look confused but those who were present for the Forge Frenzy, their eyes are burning with an unrelenting fervor. "Alright, those of the volunteers please proceed to the designated forge table and take up a station. There should be enough slots for twelve of you to work together at a time," I say as I reach out and have the machine spirit start to raise the auramite filled crucible with the overhead crane and bring it toward my station. Another crucible heads towards the trio of Astartes, filled to the brim with the ceramite composite I settled on. As the molten metal begins to trickle out in front of me I submerge myself in my surroundings, letting the thrum and beat of the forge suffuse my bones. I channel my psychic power to reach out and manipulate the Auramite even as I use my hands and an army of dendrites to apply just the precise amount to the scales before putting them on a belt that takes them to the team of volunteers. The intense heat makes me sweat but it can't take the smile off my face as I embrace the sensations and start to forge. —------------------------------------------------- POV: Tech-Priest Exploritor, Rayke Claw-Jack Rayke had initially thought the Princeps had been exaggerating, giving a heavy speech to make them all take the opportunity and project seriously. After all, who had ever heard of someone getting a secondhand epiphany, or divine inspiration as a side effect? Those rumors were such obvious grox droppings. Rayke no longer thought so. Three days. She had been clamping scales together nonstop for three days. A single scale was probably worth more in raw materials than what she made in a month and they were making thousands of the little things. The Princeps hadn't stopped; she was like some horrible forge-monster, manipulating eight dendrites. Eight! Plus her hands, and she was using some strange psychic abilities all at once and she hadn't made a single fracking mistake. Every scale Rayke got had the perfect amount of still-molten golden auramite evenly spread across its surface. The Astartes at least had the grace to make an error once in every few thousand scales. The Princeps was like a machine, a daemon, or maybe one of those angels the Ministorum likes to yell about. They had started with a full table of Tech Priests and double that in spare volunteers. Now they were down to ten. It had taken a day before they lost the first one to heat exhaustion, another started yelling something about thermal expansion and ran off to take notes. Rayke looked to her right where L3-3T was working. He had slipped her an injector of stims a few hours ago and that was probably the only reason she was still awake. "I… I understand the pattern." She heard him whisper as he stared down at the scales. "I see the fractal. The formula is…" His eyes glazed over but his hands didn't stop moving. "Cleon, we lost L3-3T" She hissed as she glanced to her left. Cleon had been gone for the second day but he eventually returned and was now moving with a surety and calm that Rayke desperately wished she could match. The strange madness had spread to the Archmagos and the Magi; they were each tinkering, writing, coding in the noosphere, or meditating. Rayke didn't even know why she suddenly understood how to account for stellar drift! She was terrible at space navigation! She just suddenly knew things and when she tried to apply the scientific reasoning behind it the only explanation she kept landing on was the Princeps had somehow telepathically connected the collective consciousness of everyone present and was sharing knowledge, or she had tapped into the great repository of the Machine God and was somehow sharing it. Both answers nearly gave Rayke an existential panic attack. Only a few minutes later she suddenly knew how to fix her favorite plasma gun that every Magos she had shown it to had written off as scrap. Rayke was so lost in her thoughts she jolted when she reached down for another scale and came up empty. She looked around, blinking owlishly before she dared look over at the Princeps. There were finally no more scales left on her table and she was… making ingots? The Crucible looked at least half full but each ingot made a very noticeable dip. Enthralled, she watched as the Princeps made eight ingots and then rather than casting the ninth one she began to forge something. She laid the golden metal out in a sheet and then pulled something out of her pocket… a stack of crystal wafers that she laid out in a line in the auramite and then folded over the molten metal over-top the strange crystals. "Brothers! To me! The Anvil!" She heard the Princeps yell. The Three Astartes blurred past as they moved to aid the little saint of the forge. Rayke just watched as the Princeps hammered and folded over and over. "What are you making?" The Deathwatch one asked, the one whose name her addled information-stuffed brain couldn't recall. "A cross between a Nemesis Force Halberd and a Vigil Spear." Rayke didn't know what either of those weapons was but given how the Astartes looked at the Princeps it was something absurd. "Less talking, more hammering!" the Princeps hissed but whatever divine magic had taken hold of everyone had started to wane. Rayke didn't mind, she just sat down on the floor and leaned back, closing her eyes as the rhythmic hammering lulled her to sleep. —---------------------------------------------------------------- The aftermath of the second Forge Frenzy was far more contained as Master Doll and the Magi had prepared for it in advance. It had been thankfully limited in scope but the main issue was the Tech Priests that had aided with the forging and felt the effects were now begging to join her Legio. My armour had come out perfect, or almost perfect. Though storing it was a bit tricky, currently the scales were all in a large bucket. I reach down and dip my hand and with a small burst of energy from me the scales crawl up my arm, arranging themselves as they coat my entire body in just a few seconds. The only piece that requires my direct attention is the helmet, or rather the half-helmet mask, which of course has a slight draconic flare to it. The armour fits perfectly, the issue is the outer reflective coating, it works a little too well so it looks like I'm wearing a massive pile of mini-mirrors. I'm a visual hazard! The only other issue is that because the armour is in such small scales and bound with psychic energy via the auramite and magnetism the strength enhancement is about half of what the standard Mechanicus Dragon scale power armour gives. It makes up for it in Refractor Field coverage matched only by Dark Age tech or Custodes level gear. I need to test it but I am certain it's better than the Lord Inquisitor's master-crafted Rosette. "Argent Scale Power Armour. That has a nice ring to it," I say as I do a little twirl. "I look like a disco ball." I groan. I can wear my cloak or robes over the armour until I find a way to fix the texture issue without compromising the protective enhancement. I still don't know what possessed me to make a Force polearm at the end of the crafting session, I sent it to Astrovas and Baldos told me 'He cried like a little girl'. I've been avoiding anyone and everyone in the last few days since. Aside from the polearm, I made a pair of small Force knives with the excess materials and passed it along to my other two psychic tutors, Lady Nostromo and Lady Supine who were much more reserved with their thanks for the gifts. The remaining eight auramite ingots are secure in my vault. I wasn't sure I was going to go out but Arianwyn has reached out and invited me to come visit. A welcome distraction if there ever was one. I feel a little bad I haven't seen her since the auction but in my defense, I've been quite busy. I inform Lael, the sisters, Delta-A3, Baldos, Silverwalker, and the rest of my guards of my intentions. Arianwyn hasn't invited me to her estate but to the Drakios House's personal training grounds. When I arrive it's easy to spot her, she's decked out in her armour, sans her helmet which is currently off and hanging from her hip. She looks annoyed as she stands with her hand on the hilt of her sword, she's facing away from me so I take the opportunity to sneak up behind her. "What's got you all riled up?" I ask and make her jump. "Nicole! Don't scare me like that!" she says, pouting at me for a brief moment. "Ugh, my guards won't fight me seriously and my tutors aren't nearly as good as Grandfather. I'm supposed to get used to fighting but everyone's treating me like a baby." I nod along and smile, "Well, you could spar with me? I need to stress test my new armour." I say with a chuckle. "How good are you with a blade?" She asks me in an eager tone. "Eh, my old memories and new ones have some conflicting lessons so I'd say my fundamentals are good but my advanced melee combat doctrine is pretty weak," I hold up a finger to delay Arianwyn. "But if I turn my limiters off I'm also much faster than you." "Limiters?" Arianwyn questions. "Yeah, they're supposed to help avoid giving people the… transhuman dread. The good news is you can use all your gear, your armour enhancements, and even your blade. I'll only use the power field of my Axe or my dendrites to block and won't use any of my guns." I suggest earning a dubious look from Arianwyn. "That sounds… dangerous for you." She says, clearly not sold on the idea. "Here. I can prove I'll be fine," I say as I turn to Lael and the sisters. "Sisters, your bolters are loaded right?" "Yes, they are Ma'am." One says politely. "I want you both to empty your magazines into my torso please." I say as I take off my Mechanicus robes to reveal my glittering scales. The sisters hesitate and glance at Lael then back to me. "Ma'am?" they ask. "Would you do it if I promise to make Lael a personal rosette if you do?" I ask and as soon as I finish speaking I register the armour blocking the impacts as the Refractor fields light up the area around me. I stand there as I hear the two sisters reload. I turn around back to Arianwyn and spread my arms. "See! Totally fine." "Just how good is that armour?" She asks me. "Ehh, I'd say probably three plus or two plus" I mutter with a shrug. When she blankly stares at me I realize my mistake. "Ahh… maybe just below that of a Custodes power armour? Might be as good if I layered a Psychic force field or managed to acquire a personal void shield. The psychic one I need to practice, compact personal void shields are rare bits of Archeotech." I say with a sigh. "That's… ridiculous!" she sputters but then shakes her head. "Alright. Let's duel!" She says as she unsheathes her sword with a flourish and takes a poised stance. I grin and pick up my Axe. An hour later we're sitting having tea and I'm giving Arianwyn suggestions. "So when you use the belt to float you need a way to quickly anchor yourself, probably a wrist grapnel launcher or mag boots. Otherwise, a flying enemy can bat you around like I did." I say with a snicker. "Your techniques are okay but you really need to practice. Your close combat techniques are rusty, I can tell." She shoots back as she pours Lael a cup, having gotten her to give us her thoughts and commentary. "Lady Cavalerio's main strength is her ability to manipulate technology and her overwhelming ranged firepower. Melee is not a primary, a secondary, or even a tertiary fallback for her. In real combat, she should have at least a dozen heavily armoured guards between her and any melee combatant. As should you Lady Drakios." Lael says, lightly scolding us both with a glare as she sips her tea. —------------------------------------------------------- POV: Navigator Primaris of the Argent Drake, Lily Nostromo Lily sat in her spire aboard the Argent Drake, looking down at the present she had received from little Lady Cavalerio. "Always so full of surprises aren't you little one?" She mused as she sipped from a glass of wine. The radiation from the Great Rift had grown turbulent, it bathed the entire ship and system in a thin fog of warp energy. Despite the restrictions, thanks to the aid of the various archeotech aboard the Argent Drake, she still noticed first when a massive tear formed in the Materium, as multiple warp drives worked in tandem to open a path as a fleet arrived in the system at the expected Mandeville point, emerging in mass. She messaged the bridge crew in concisely and simply "The enemy is here." Alarms started to blare throughout the ship as the message was relayed and confirmed by the other vessels and long-range sensors. The war for Ur-Haven was about to begin.