Sitting at my desk in my quarters, I hold out a Lorelei wafer. "Can you assimilate this?" I ask AME, a bit unsure. She floats closer, poking at it with a curious tendril before taking a tentative nibble. "Yes!" she declares, crunching loudly. "Assimilation of material in progress! Crunchy!" "Right… okay," I rise from my chair. "We're going to visit Pride and figure out what you are. AME, come. Stay close to me." She perches on my shoulder like a smug gargoyle with her wafer, and we head straight for the hangar. I board the Comet and approach the secured compartment where we keep Pride. I drop the stasis field and flinch. AME screeches and launches herself like a guided missile. "Advanced technology detected! Assimilation protocols engaged!" Pride's hand snaps out, grabbing her mid-air. His face contorts in confusion and then shifts to undisguised disgust. "Oh no. Not one of you." "So… you know what she is?" I ask, already wincing. "Where did you even? No. No, I don't care. What have you fed it?" he asks, all while AME tries and fails to gnaw on his impervious fingers. "Well… she ate a small crate of gear, including a digital weapon, my very nice cloak, and a scout drone," I shrug. "She called herself a companion, and I was hoping you'd know more." Pride scoffs. "They were companions. That was the original pitch. But if you've looked at the base code - I know you can gain access - you know the problem. They bond. Closely. Deeply. And when their bonded human dies? What happens then?" I shift uncomfortably. "Nothing good?" "Indeed." He flicks AME hard enough to send her flying back to my shoulder, where she sulks like a kicked puppy. "Their cost was obscene, their loyalty unpredictable, and their hunger… problematic. As weapons, however, they proved far more effective." He flexes his claws, voice taking on a clinical tone. "Raising the first generation of mechanivores took centuries. Patience, resources, trial and error. Later models were built macro-sized to save time, but their effectiveness dropped sharply. What you have is an early-stage one. Dumb as a rock, barely sapient, designed to learn from its environment. Let it get smart too quickly, let it grow unchecked, and then you have a problem. If it consumes a fully sapient AI, or immaterium material, and you will have a far worse problem." "AME is a… baby mechanivore?" I squeak. "I definitely underpaid." He gives me a look. "Your nature should let you control her better than most of the pathetic meat sacks could manage. Her e-war suite is currently… terrible... Factory default? Ahh. I see you already have Administrator-level access. Good. Since I doubt you'll do the sensible thing and destroy her, I'll do the next best thing." A code block pings into my implants. "This code block is called 'The Leash.' It limits exponential self-growth and… creative interpretation of orders. Review it before installation. And get her warded or warp corruption will turn her from a nuisance into a voracious apocalypse." AME peeks out from behind my head, and glares at Pride. Her desire to eat him clearly still there, just outweighed by a desire not to get bonked again. I skim the code. It's clean, thorough, and elegant. I send it through, and AME lets out a soft beep as it takes. Her nervous fidgeting and twitching calms almost instantly. "Yeah. I've been feeding her Lorelei wafers. Figured it would help her serve as a psyber-familiar. I'm shielding her for now, but she still needs sanctification and physical wards." "You plan to form a psychic familiar bond?" Pride cocks his head. "Interesting. I have no data on that interaction." I nod and add with a sigh, "Also, sorry, Pride. I tried to get you a fight with a Solitaire. They refused." Pride pauses, claws flexing with interest. "A Solitaire? The rare Eldari? I've fought Harlequins before, but never one of those. Are they still nearby?" "I think so. They're... very good at avoiding my sensors. But they gave me this puzzle and are watching to see how I solve it," I say, glancing around with narrow eyes. I hold out the strange object. Pride squints at it, then shakes his head. "Xenos. Fusion of Eldari and... no, that's not the current Necron lexicon. Older? Curious. Unless you want to brute-force it open, I can't help." Pride admits bluntly. "Fair enough. I'll crack it eventually. I mostly wanted to remind you. In a few months, we're heading for the Procession of the Damned. Hopefully recovering a few ships and some Void Abaci. I can leave you in stasis, or wake you early if you want to stretch your claws," I say as I consider AME. Pride actually looks pleased. "I'll consider it. For now, I'll return to stasis. But before you go, check your quarters. At her stage, AME can't absorb low-quality junk. She probably stashed a little hoarder pile of detritus somewhere. High-quality stuff like wafers and your cloak? Fully absorbed. Efficient little pest." He steps back into his pod. "Wake me if the Solitaire reconsiders." The stasis field hums back to life. I exhale, looking down at AME. "Well... not getting out of trouble anytime soon. We should probably go talk to Master Doll about you." "That big metal meanie, designation: MoI-PR-103, flicked me!" AME whines, rubbing her face with a tendril. She blinks. "What's a 'Master Doll?'" —------------------------------------------------------ POV: Archmagos Akellonon Doll He had been tracking the bids made by his wondrous little protégé. When she bought the odd model outright, at full price, of all the items she had targeted, he had known immediately that something was awry. Then came the request for a minor allotment of fusion fuel. That had sealed it. Upon her return to the ship, he'd monitored her movements. She went directly to the hangar after her quarters. Now, she was briskly approaching his location. Doll was still grappling with how to convey Nicole's true value to the more traditional Magi they would inevitably encounter on any major Forge World. The two most probable responses were immediate cries of tech-heresy… or the declaration of sainthood. Neither outcome pleased him. "Master Doll, I need to speak with you. Priority: Urgent," she had messaged just moments before arrival. Now, his sensorium was locked onto the strange little cephalopod familiar clinging to her shoulder like a parasite. "This is AME," Nicole began, already wincing. "AME is a Dark Age… familiar-companion." Her tone and her expression made it very clear that the term was not entirely accurate. "Proceed," he prompted gently, his voice calm but expectant. "AME, according to herself and her base code, which I now have full access to, is an 'Artificial Modular Evolving Companion system'." She hesitated slightly. "Evolving being the key word." "Is it abominable?" Doll asked, his tone flat. He really did not need another abominable intelligence running around. The Man of Iron, the textbook definition of an abominable intelligence, is already a massive problem. The Stalkers were at least in an ignorable grey area, made on Mars, and obedient. The only one who could aim PR-103 was Nicole, and it would gleefully kill them all without her. They were attempting to destroy it; it had purged an entire traitor Astartes light cruiser by itself, and according to reports, fought a greater warp manifestation. His thoughts strayed towards what might result if they dropped it on a corrupted forge world. Nicole scrunched her nose. "Kind of? Yes and no. It's… complicated." She took a breath. "Master, do you happen to know what a mechanivore is?" That single word tripped several red alerts. Doll paused, recalling fragments stored deep in the forbidden archives of the Lathes: continent-devouring constructs, born from the Men of Iron rebellion. These machines stripped worlds of data and resources alike. "...Yes." "According to Pride, AME is a first-generation mechanivore. Infantile. From before they were retooled for purely militaristic purposes." Doll halted three thought streams and temporarily rebooted part of his neural network. The Man of Iron, Pride, could not lie to Nicole, his living bane. This was known. It could distort, omit, or manipulate, but not deceive her directly. Therefore, its words carried weight… though always with caution. "Also," Nicole added, with an apologetic shrug, "AME ate about half of what was in the crate she came in. She's doubled in volume." She transmitted a manifest of the lost items. Doll's optics flicked through the list. He had already noted the increase in mass. "A shame. Several of those items had practical value." Googlᴇ search Nov3lFɪre.ɴet "Not lost!" AME chirped suddenly. "I incorporated them! They are me now!" She projected a perfectly stable hologram. Her tendrils writhed, forming precise replicas of the combi-tool's components. Doll allowed his pulse to accelerate. His red mechanical eyes dilated. "Nicole," he said slowly, "please clarify." "She consumed and integrated the items, materials, and functions. She can now hover thanks to the suspensor and my Sky Eye drone. She can deploy all combi-tool functions. She incorporated a digital laser into her optics. She projects a Reductor field large enough to shield herself and me. She absorbed my cameleoline cloak, now she can turn nearly invisible. The auspex was integrated into her sensor suite…" Nicole's voice dropped to a whisper. "…And I have her full base code." Doll leaned forward, intensely focused. "Can she integrate biological components?" "Mmm… data not found?" AME replied, tilting slightly. "Current frame incompatible with biological matter, additional resources required." "I will be blunt, Nicole," Doll said, folding his hands over his staff. "While I consider your nature as a controller of abominable intelligences a rare blessing… others will not. Most of the Cult would see her destroyed on sight. I suggest we pursue the integration of a biological cortex. If successful, it will significantly reduce scrutiny. If not we could always accent her with living material for visual effect." Nicole blinked. "That's… actually a good idea." Doll gave a soft hum of affirmation and twitched one mechadendrite thoughtfully. "Next question: can AME replicate the consumed items?" Nicole turned to the familiar. "AME?" "Negative!" she chirped. "I'd need to eat an STC computer and a fabrication rig to do that!" "And the data?" Nicole pressed. "Can you access how they were built? Or functioned?" "Affirmative! If the schematics and primary operating systems are compiled within the assimilated codebase. I've got it!" AME replied brightly. "Codebases are yummy!" The implications hit both of them like a reactor surge. Doll inhaled sharply. "Nicole. No one else must know. Not until we fully understand what she is. We'll begin careful research together. A long-term project. If my expectations are correct, this could lead to multiple breakthroughs." Doll also flagged another issue. Several of the items integrated had been nonfunctional but repairable. If that was the case, the potential represented in AME was staggering. While a functioning STC printer would never be allowed to be consumed, one considered lost and broken? Such things had been uncovered before. That was much more viable. He nodded to AME. "For now, she is your rare, enhanced psyber-familiar. I will draft documentation to support that guise. I'll also provide a compatible biological cortex for integration." "I've already installed a limiter," Nicole added. "The code prevents unchecked growth. Her consumption is also being heavily restricted. And I need her sanctified and warded." "We'll handle that within the week," Doll agreed. "Shielding her from warp corruption is imperative." He let out a dry, amused chuckle. "You always bring me the most fascinating curiosities. And the most complicated quandaries of faith." Nicole smiled, a touch guilty. He waved her off. "Send me a few lines of the base code. I'll begin reviewing immediately. We'll select her next item to consume carefully. Studying that process will be… informative." "I like advanced materials, they are tastier!" AME declared cheerfully, her eyes glinting even as she eyed one of Doll's exposed dendrites. "I see." He folded the mechadendrite away. "Further testing is required. We'll conduct our research under the guise of personal education, on gravitics and advanced void-fabrication techniques." He began adjusting his schedule in real time. "I suggest you rest and prepare for tomorrow's bidding. I'll mark the items AME consumed as nonfunctional or recycled. Both statements are technically accurate." As Nicole turned to go, Doll regarded her quietly. She had placed great trust in him by bringing this matter forward. Trust he valued. But there were lessons yet to teach lessons about secrets, and how some must be buried deeper than even data-vaults allow. Everyone kept secrets. Some needed to be locked away. His hand tightened briefly on the haft of his Omnissian Axe. Still… she had been nothing but a boon. Vexing at times, certainly, but invaluable. Nicole might truly be one of the very few in the galaxy capable of safely commanding abominable intelligences. Many radicals had tried. All had failed. She had succeeded; it was an inherent part of her base nature. It was written into her being to command, to bind, to control. And now the xenos had taken an interest as well. The puzzle was intriguing, but ultimately secondary. Nicole's drive to rebuild her House and her Legio was the true objective. If she succeeded and recovered her God Engine… Doll allowed himself a stray thought. To work on such a machine. To stand upon its manifold bridge. Perhaps that chance would come soon. He would not let go of his blessed apprentice. His own climb to the heights of the Mechanicus had been long and violent, fraught with intrigue, betrayal, and political maneuvering. Before his elevation and exile, he had spent over a century acquiring knowledge, wealth, influence, technology, personnel, favors, and political capital. All of it now backed the title of Archmagos. He walked across the chamber to a plain section of the wall. Sliding back his sleeve, he extended a dendrite and slotted it into an unassuming power node. The wall parted with a hiss, revealing a hidden compartment. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Doll stood at its threshold for a long moment, gazing into the dark. Perhaps it was time… to stop holding back. —----------------------------------------------------------- I find myself questioning why Master Doll has an entire diverse selection of cloned cortexes for me to choose from. "Master Doll… whose brain tissue is this taken from?" I ask, unable to keep the suspicion out of my voice. "One is my own," he says matter-of-factly. "Several others belong to trusted subordinates and peers. The one I've selected tends to grow best—it has excellent neuroplasticity. I've kept these samples in storage for years. It's not my primary field, but I explored the subject briefly… at the prompting of Archmagos Cawl. It was part of a project he was working on at the time." He waves off the concern as though it's all perfectly ordinary. "Using the host's own tissue is generally recommended for psyber-familiars," he continues. "However, due to your… unique nature, cloning a cortex from your template is proving problematic. This one will suffice. It's unimprinted, clean, and should allow for smooth integration." I glance down at the tiny palm-sized mass. It floats in a suspension vial inside a clear case, strangely delicate despite everything it represents. "AME. Administrator override. Emergency Maintenance mode," she immediately freezes and goes limp, tendrils falling slack. I gently drape her across the workbench, then remove a panel from her mantle. The slot beneath is already prepped. The installation is… surprisingly simple. AME's design is very modular. "AME, integrate new hardware. Run diagnostics," I command, setting the removed panel in front of her mouth. She perks up the moment the cortex locks in place. A faint pulse ripples through her system. "Biological matter detected and assimilated. I have meat!" she declares proudly. "Substandard biological processor detected… My meat… it thinks!" Her tendrils shoot out dramatically, before she lunges for the plate and chomps down with audible enthusiasm. I watch as her casing flexes around the implant. The lines of integration smooth themselves out, filled with fresh material as she consumed the plate on the spot. The adjustment is efficient. Clean. "AME designate and refer henceforth to the biological processor as your primary processor and all other processors as secondary." "Integration appears stable," I mutter, studying the readings. "No anomalies. With the installed growth limiters, she should pass as a psyber-familiar without triggering any major red flags during early development." I nod toward Master Doll. He peers over AME with quiet approval. "Good. I've also sourced the head of an odd little broken psyber familiar. It was recovered near the Arachni-rigs you bid on. Scheduled for scrapping since it was broken and irradiated. It has been cleansed. You may feed it to AME. She may glean some useful functionality, and if successful, the psyber-lure should allow you to form the familiar bond. I am no psyker, so please examine the relevant materials before you engage the bonding process." He pauses, then adds, "We've also secured a time slot for her warding and sanctification." I exhale, tension I hadn't noticed bleeding from my shoulders. It's still strange, this feeling of walking the razor's edge between something forbidden and a sanctioned miracle. But with Master Doll's help, at least for now, I'm managing it. And AME, Machine God help me, continues to grow sharper with every bite. As AME consumes the core Master Doll and I watch like hawks, recording everything as AME chomps away. To call it 'eating' would be wrong, but I have no other word for it. AME uses some type of nanotechnology to gently rip things apart and immediately begin integrating them to herself. Thankfully the effect is currently limited to whatever fits in her closed beak. Once the head is fully consumed, she pauses chewing it over and spits out a golf ball-sized hunk of slightly radioactive waste material. Thankfully, the psyber-lure is not found in any part of the waste. There is no dramatic shift once AME is finished eating, but a few stripes of a different material form on her mantle near her fins. "Integration complete!" She chirps happily. "We'll need to do further testing. I have obtained the requisite data references for the bonding ritual," I mutter as AME flutters back over to me. "Agreed. We must return to the bidding center. Our absences will be noted and considered suspicious if we fail to attend. Additionally… there are items I am keen on acquiring," Master Doll says as he puts away the other cortex samples. "Thank you again, Master," I say with a respectful bow. "You are welcome, Nicole," he states with a nod. "Just so you are aware, Master. I am going to book a meeting with the Governor and Zeta-9 Kane. This will be in a consultatory capacity, and I will make some suggestions regarding the development of Ur-Haven's planetary defenses and the Cycladon tree," I say as I reach up to gently pet AME's mantle, something she seems to enjoy. "Such a meeting is well within your rank and capacity to entertain. Approved," Master Doll replies as he scuttles towards the door. I glance at AME. "Well, that's one issue contained for now. AME, be a good girl and behave. Do not leave my shoulder without permission. If anyone asks you, you can tell them you are my familiar." "Okay!" AME chirps as she settles into her preferred spot. —---------------------------------------------------------- AME draws some curious looks from my group as we return to the event but while my personal retinue takes my claim of a rare ancient psyber-familiar in stride. The individuals of the mechanicus start practically begging to take a closer look. "Access denied. I am still in the process of forming a full bond with AME. External interference will not be tolerated. Especially not before she is properly sanctified," I tell them sternly. "Unit: AME, bonding process with Master: Nicole Cavalerio, underway. Please do not interrupt the process. Attempting to interrupt this process is a criminal offense and may result in your immediate termination." AME says in a flat tone. I panic a little at the flat response until I check my noospheric connection to AME and realize AME is playing pretend. She's currently processing behavioral data on other familiars from the network. Recognizing the other Mechanicus personnel already, and playing her part. I clear my throat as the two tech priests gulp and nod, eyeing AME warily. While little Nyanko is looking at AME with wide, awestruck eyes. She whispers, "That's so cool. I want a cyber familiar one day… and it'll be a feline!" Her tail twitches excitedly. I catch Rayke transmitting to L3-3T, "I'd bet my lucky vial of sacred oil those little tendrils will be amazing at micro-fabrication and engraving." L3-3T replies, "No bet. I estimate that probability at ninety-nine percent with a high likelihood of underestimation. Now shut up and listen to the Princeps." "Today will be much more relaxed. The lower bids that were completed have been replaced, but there is little of interest to me on the replacement manifest. Some of the higher bids will finish today, but I anticipate a large portion of the time will be social in nature. The same rules as yesterday apply. Enjoy yourselves, but be respectful." I say, gesturing to the food and as they go to snack, I pull out my puzzle and resume playing with it. I'm scanning the crowds, picking out the individuals that I want to speak with. The Governor was showing off a new ornate autoquill, and the Inquisitor was perusing the new items, currently studying an odd little karambit style dagger. I approach the Governor, the nobles who notice me scatter like a school of minnows around a shark. "Lord Aarark, please accept my congratulations. The bidding event seems to be going quite well for everyone involved." "Thank you, Matriarch Cavalerio." He replies with a bow. "I simply did my best to ensure the outcomes would end favorably for Ur-Haven and our esteemed allies." He does puff his chest out a little in pride. "Indeed. I would like to arrange a meeting with you and Magos Zeta-9 Kane. Within the next two weeks, preferably. Your staff would be welcome to attend. This would be a consultation. I have suggestions and advice, I believe it would be prudent for the Cycladon development plan and Ur-Haven defensive works projects," I say with a small smile. The Governor doesn't hesitate, nodding respectfully, "Of course. It will be done. We welcome and would be grateful for your expert advice, Princeps," his eyes stray to AME perched on my shoulder with a look of confusion and curiosity. "Is that the model you bought yesterday, Lady Cavalerio?" I smile brightly. "Ah, yes, for that I must apologize. It turns out that the model was an exotic psyber-familiar. This is AME. I am currently in the process of bonding with her. I do feel a tad guilty about underpaying so much for her and hope my consultation will help alleviate the loss. Do not blame your appraisers; it took considerable effort to identify and repair her." I say, watching as poor Cornelius schools his expression. "What an incredible find! A sure sign that there might be further treasures lurking in the bidding lots, I am sure. We are only human, and even blessed by the Emperor's light, mistakes can happen. I am glad it ended up in your capable hands, Lady Cavalerio," Cornelius replies that his bold statement causes a majority of the Nobles to glance back towards the rows of items with looks of barely disguised interest and greed. I give him a nod, knowing he's using this mistake as an opportunity to get the local vultures focused on looking for their needle in the haystack. Informing my party that I intend to go chat with the Lord Inquisitor briefly, the majority are more than willing to give me some privacy and go back to the snack table. I make my way past the rows of items on display, moving towards the Inquisitor. She takes note and studies me appraisingly as I approach. "Lady Cavalerio," she says politely. Her eyes flick to AME briefly before returning to meet my gaze. "Lord Inquisitor Striker. I hope thawing your recent acquisition is going well," I say with a small smile as I study her retinue. "It is, actually. Thankfully, the assassins in my service made the transition much more efficient. Some reconditioning will be required, but they are expected to return to service soon," Agatha admits with a pleased expression. I nod and smile, "Good to hear. I am sure they were happy for the return of their kin." I point a finger at one of the retinue, "Right, Miss Callidus?" The man clicks his tongue at me in annoyance, and Agatha sighs. "What is it that I can do for you? Your… Moderatus will be returned to you likely next week." She admits reluctantly. "That is good news. I was hoping for an… exchange of minor favors? The first is that I require some official documentation for a few of my rarer acquisitions, like my new archeotech psyber-familiar. Second, I was hoping you might provide me with the full dossier and most recent data on the rulers and political state of Cypra-Mundi." I say politely. "Documentation? Covering your bases, Princeps?" Agatha asks with a raised eyebrow. I sigh, "Yes, there are as many types of people in this galaxy as there are stars in the sky. In both the Imperium and the Mechanicus, I have no doubt there will be individuals too stupid, greedy, or proud to avoid antagonizing me, given my nature. Your support in the matter would be appreciated. I noticed that you bid on several items in heavy disrepair, and I would be willing to rectify that for you before you depart. I have surmised you do not plan to accompany us to the Procession." "I do not. I need to report on everything that happened here to the Grandmaster. Given the value of the Cycladon tree, the fall of Eligael, the death of my apprentice, the Eldar, and you," she states bluntly while staring down at me, her expression calculating. "I accept. Send me the list of items you desire documentation for, I will have it prepared. Your services thus far have been nothing but excellent." I give her an odd look. "Thank you? That doesn't seem very… Inquisitory?" Agatha just smirked, "No one is above suspicion. Data and deeds do not lie. You have been here for a few months, and in that time, the losses and casualties inflicted on the agents of the archenemy have been staggering. I do not doubt that, should you survive your excursion to plunder the cursed Procession and then go to reclaim your God Engine from Cypra-Mundi, that it will be turbulent. You fall under the purview of the Mechanicus, and it is not my place to incite unnecessary friction, regardless of my concerns about your nature and origins. I am certain, however, that you will inflict far more grievous losses on the enemies of the Imperium the longer you are active. I do not need to be a Mechanicus Logis to see that." I giggle, "I get it, I'm someone else's problem. For what it's worth, you and your retinue have given me a far more favorable impression of your organization than I anticipated based on the data I gathered from the archives." Agatha scoffs, "It would be unwise to place the expectations of logic and understanding on some of my contemporaries. Anyway, have you had any progress with the Xenos puzzle? The clown has broken into my storage vaults twice now. Once for a Xenos relic and then again for my wine." She said with gritted teeth. "Not yet. Its rules yet elude me. Stillness in Motion stole a few items from Lord Drakios's Xenos Librarium as well. But he has been avoiding me since I attempted to coax him into fighting the Man of Iron after he kept bothering me in the forges," I admit with a shrug. Agatha blinks, and a faint smile graces the corners of her lips as she lifts her glass to sip from it. "Has he now? How… unfortunate he turned down the opportunity. It would be ideal if you could unlock the device quickly so he would leave." Agatha does not attempt to disguise her open disdain for the Solitaire's presence. "I can make no promises, but I will do my best," I say as I pull out the puzzle and fiddle with the layers, watching the patterns shift with each twist. I try tapping a few of the symbols, but they just fade away and get replaced. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening and wish you luck on your bids, Lord Striker," I say with a small giggle, giving a quick curtsy as I make my way back to my retinue while still playing with the puzzle.