Sotavasara.net

Gale-like winds died down as a massive dropship touched down and powered down its thrice-blessed turbines, allowing an assault ramp to descend and marking the beginning of the Taghmata Explorator Task Force #50021-2-E1’s mission in Morello IV.

Two vaguely human-like figures descended from the dropship’s assault ramp to a landing pad in Morello IV’s factory-hive, one of hundreds or thousands of such platforms that were responsible for allowing interstellar cargo to move in and out of the planet.

“Log: Planetfall at 28:21.”

A mechanical hiss came from a monotask servitor attached to Explorator task force overseer Kuratorum, who had lately reached the rank of Dominus among his peers. The monotask servitor vomited a string of parchment with log entries written into it, and Kuratorum stashed the string to a physical data-archive in the form of a small carved bronze box.

The data-logs of Explorators were their most prized possessions, and Kuratorum was no exception to the rule- Although perhaps his penchant for documentation was weakest among those sent to the mission of recovering Morello IV’s mysterious data-source.

A hundred different monotask servitors, hundreds of mechadendrites both macro and microscale and three arms, two biomechanical and one mechanical, buzzed as Techno Archaeologist Callus recorded every observable and non-observable event and phenomena around them while the tech-priest was embedded into a floating data-storage device that both served as his office, his weapon, and his means of movement.

It was just a regular doctorina for the walking overseer and the floating device-integrated tech-archaeologist, but the buzzing was enough to cause the port official that had come to meet the task force to pale to the complexity of paper and start backing away slowly.

The port official seemed to gather his courage as something buzzed in his ear-piece, likely a superior remarking a possible punishment for the official for failing to show proper respect to the Explorators of Mars, and the port official coughed to his fist.

“Welcome to More-”

“Introduction- Value nil, proceed to data logging.” A vox-piece near Kuratorum’s throat buzzed High Gothic to air, as the flesh-bound human in front of the tech-priest wouldn’t be able to understand Lingua Technica, the sacred binary language.

“Excuse-”

“TAG Explr-TF£50021-2-E1 proceeding from landing pad 9205-1256-S2 towards mission objective [REDACTED].” The High Gothic buzzing was interrupted by a redaction sound that caused the port official to wince in pain and cover his ears.

“Lady Integra wishes to-”

“Command authority override.”

“Yes, but-”

“Command authority override- Dogma-Mars.” The high-gothic growl was accompanied by capacitor whine of Kuratorum’s integrated volkite blaster powering up.

The landing pad’s automated defensive options woke up in response to the powered-up volkite weapon, and Kuratorum found himself looking into six separate quad-autocannon batteries, all aimed at the dropship and the pair of tech-priests.

“Physical command authority recognized. Switching to long-winded speech mode. You, servant, take me to your leader.” Kuratorum switched to standardized High-Gothic monologue and powered down the volkite blaster, causing the port official to sigh in relief.

“Yes, as I was saying, Lady Integra who reigns as the local region administrator wishes to meet with the illustrious Explorator force who hail from Holy Mars and come to her Hive.” The official did his best to keep his voice from cracking and his hands from shaking in the adrenaline crash he was experiencing.

Kuratorum’s bio-monitors had already logged the port official’s biological state and were observing his bodily functions to a highly invasive degree in an attempt to further understand the nature of the delay.

‘Log- Signs of elevated stress levels, adrenaline, lack of dopamine, lack of sleep, build-up of toxins, lack of blessed oils, excess of caffeine- Recent surface wounds, possible physical violence, markings suggest claws, no puncture wounds, suggesting melee, a foreign bio-entity-’ Kuratorum swung his axe down as the monitors reached a conclusion, and the axe split the port official in two in a single swing.

The two halves of the body flopped down against the landing pad, a shocked expression still plastered on the man’s face.

The autocannon batteries that had already powered-down didn’t react to the violence, as was expected, since the automated response only triggered if the landing pad’s structural integrity was threatened, such as with a powerful Volkite blaster. And the port official’s life was unnecessary for the pad’s function.

As soon as the body’s spasms ended a series of macroscapels reached down from techno archaeologist Callen’s floating documentation hub and dissected the port official’s corpse into neat chunks, one of which bore a minute life-sign.

A xenos life-sign.

“++Log entry: Genestealer presence in Morello IV. Proof: Genestealer seed acquired. Log: Possible Xenos Horrificus invasion in progress. Event: Planetary invasion?Progress=possible. Action: Hasten explorator actions.++” Kuratorum’s blessed binary data-vox logged the results of the impromptu dissection to the dropship, just in time for a security team to burst through the blast-door of the landing pad with ancient but seemingly recently-used autoguns at hand.

“Halt! You are under arrest for- uh…” The carapace-armored man who had lead the security team seemed to slow down as he took in the markings of Forge World Mars on the side of the dropship, the red cloth of the tech-priests, and the various eerie weapons and items on and in the biomechanical ‘humans’. “M-murder of an official of the imperium of man?”

“Notification: Xenos contamination+official title:Official title=[nul]- Activating slow mode.” Kuratorum switched off logical speech patterns and restarted ‘slow’ mode that would allow the simpler, un-blessed humans to understand his speech. “Xenos infestation equals official title none, human value equals none, human worth equals none. Providing data-logs.”

A mechadendrite reached to grab a string of parchment from the monotask servitor at Kuratorum’s shoulder and offered the piece of paper to the security team leader, albeit giving away a piece of data required an emotional core suppression from Kuratorum’s internal biological logic engine. “Take us to your leader.”

“Ahem… In that case, please follow me?” The security team leader looked quite resigned as he turned to lead the two tech-priests off. The pair was instantly flanked by the security team, that was in turn flanked by a squad of Skitarii who descended from the dropship, and the whole group followed the security team leader.

The carapace-armored security team leader muttered something under his breath, and Kuratorum accessed his logs to see that the man had complained about the tech-priests being above his ‘pay-grade’

‘Log: Security team leader = Possible enemy agent- Speech: ‘Tech priest = above pay grade, suggest Security Team Leader = Paid assassin. Request deployment: +Sicarian Infiltrators, +counter assassination mission, note: regular human, possible hindrance, eradicate person+family.’ Kuratorum nodded to himself as yet another enemy revealed itself to him.

But for now, the two agents of Mars needed to meet with the ‘local leader’.

.
.
.

“And the first thing you two freakshows do is KILL one of our most valued and decorated officials! The nerve! The outrage!” A noble with a face that had the consistency and texture of half-rotten bread and boiling tar, likely the result of multiple low-quality juvenile treatments, raged in high gothic.

Overseer Kuratorum and techno archaeologist Callus stood and hovered in a massive stone-wrought hall that had a kingly judgement chair at the far end, and on the chair sat a overweight and tube-ridden creature that could be vaguely called ‘human’, at least if one ignored all the makeup and perfume it used to cover its rotting flesh.

Beside the ‘noble’ was a shriveled body that was strung to the ceiling by hundreds or thousands of tubes, mechanical fibers and cables and covered by a flea-rotten red gown.
The noble continued to rage and make weak motions while the two tech-priests had turned off the audio sensors and had instead opened a low-frequency communication with the shriveled, gown-clad body.

“++Greet- Agents of Mars, ID:local Dominus --princeps location=hive 02516-3, self-ID= Dominus, Morello IV, factory-hive 9205++” The shriveled corpse introduced himself as the dominus of the factory-hive, and the two tech-agents from Mars introduced themselves in kind.

“++LocationQuery= Morello IV data-cache 50021, priority [1], authority=Mars++” Kuratorum asked for the location of their goal without further ado, and received a data-log in return.

However, the data-log did not contain a single reference towards the data-cache in question. Instead, it contained information about a blackout in one of the factory worker-sectors nearby “++Data irrelevant. Re-transmit log++”

A bang of an auto pistol interrupted the three tech-priests ‘talk’ and the group turned to look at the noble who had produced an auto pistol and had shot at the ceiling. “Do you freaks even listen to me! You! Hooded one!”

Kuratorum, Callus and the local Dominus looked at the noble who seemed to become even more frustrated. “No! You with the tentacles!”

The trio continued to stare at the noble whose face turned even more red. “You! Yes, you!”

“Notification class, autopistol, caliber 10mm, penetrating power insufficient to-” Kuratorum began observations and was silenced as the auto pistol barked a round at his thrice-blessed titanium-steel temple, only to ping off harmlessly. “Aggression logged.”

“You! You will assist us to make up for your crimes against our illustrious family!” the noble spat out while holding a grubby hand to her ‘chest’ to steady herself. “There are hellish beasts in the outskirts of the worker-hive. You seem to be so murder happy to murder an innocent man, so go and murder the beasts. Do this and I’ll maybe forgive you for your slight! Elsewise prepare yourself for a blood-feud!”

“++Note: House Integra controls local transportation-hub. Hostile relations unwise.++” The local Dominus supplied helpfully, and then shut up as Kuratorum produced a copy of the port-official’s autopsy. “Murder charges dismissed.”

“Wha- WHAT!” The noble seemed to suffer an aneurysm as the dominus spoke in high gothic, although it wasn’t clear if the noble’s mood was because of the words or the fact the dominus chose to speak at all. “YOU CAN SPEAK? YOU COULD HAVE SPOKEN THIS ENTIRE TIME? CAN YOU ACTUALLY LISTEN TOO?!”

Sweat ran down the noble’s temple.

“Notification: Audio log- ‘Practise confessions towards Lord Husklar’ have been logged and subsequently deleted.” The dominus noted, causing the noble to deflate in relief. Quite literally.

“R-right… Anyway! You freakshows need to go and deal with the beasts or- or…” The noble seemed to be grasping straws. “Or there may be logistical errors! Yes, logistical errors!”

“++Notification class: Dropship E50021-2-E1-SPR “Ironblood” is grounded until xenos threat in district 925 is cleared due to possible xenos infestation.++” The Dominus supported the noble’s speech, causing Kuratorum’s emotion processor to let out a long sigh. “Transferred Explorator logs indicate the presence of Xenos Horrifica, Tyranid Vanguard organisms.”

“The what??” The noble’s screech was ear-shattering, if the three tech-priests had ears. “XENOS? In my beautiful hive? This must be a mistake! They are just, ah, local factory-beasts, surely!”

“++Task Force mission = compromised IF Tyranid invasion = True.++” Callus supplied unhelpfully, causing Kuratorum to sigh again. “++Logical priority = Extermination, Target = Vanguard organism.++”

“++Task Force E50021-2-E1 retasked to recon at 29:62++” The Overseer’s emotional core registered resignation as their main mission was forced to halt for now.

“Notification: Data-tether incompatible.” The Dominus of Morello IV notified Kuratorum that the data-link between the two sub-factions of Mechanicum had incompatible hardware, as was expected from the relatively ancient and archaic hardware the Mars Explorator fleet used and the positively ancient but utterly ramshackle tech the Mechanicum of Morello IV used. “Data-logging required if Task Force E50021-2-E1 = destroyed OR =missing. Detaching local mobile assets. Redirecting local mobile assets.”


Kuratorum logged a complaint as the Dominus effectively forced an outside observer to the task force for the purposes of acquiring proof that the Tyranid presence was eliminated. However, as the mission was redirected, the complaint lacked sufficient authority to stick.

The Overseer sighed once again.

.
.
.
.

“Greetings, I am Senior Enginseer Yalan.” A somewhat augmented human in dirty red robes offered a hand to Kuratorum as the two tech-priests had returned to the landing pad to unpack the rest of the explorator task-force. “I must confess, I am incredibly excited to work alongside the holy adepts of holy Mars!”

“++Query: Lingua Technica proficiency level no/some/basica/exelsior/yes?++” Kuratorum let a binharic screech in Yalan’s direction, causing the young tech-priest to jump on the spot.

“I-I apologize, esteemed Dominus, but my holy Lingua implants are to be installed in three years if I prove myself…” The red-clad youth stumbled on his words. “At the moment I-”

“Log: New rank- Yalan, downgrade TO: Initiate- Classification parameters based on ‘Mars’ pattern Enginseer” Kuratorum sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that evening, although logs showed it was only fifth. “Yalan- New mission, escort.”

“Y-yes, oh esteemed Dominus. I shall follow thee.” The Enginseer seemed to be a bit nervous and more than a little angry over the effective demotion. “A-ahem, I was not briefed to our mission, may I-”

“Mission= Extermination. Target= Tyranid vanguard organism. Expect: Genestealer.” Callus noted in High Gothic,causing the Enginseer to gain a puzzled expression.

“Excuse me, but what is a ‘Tyranid’? Or ‘Genestealer’?” Yalan’s confused expression turned to a cloudy one as Kuratorum brought up a data-spike and drove it right through the Enginseer’s temple, penetrating it through the cortex and right into the data-logger embedded in the Enginseer’s brain.

The data-spike uploaded xenos information the Explorator team had of Tyranids directly into the young human’s brain.

The spike redacted, leaving a small bleeding hole in the young man’s head.

“Ah. So that’s what a Genestealer is.” Yalan’s expression became cloudy. “And we’re going to fight them, yes?”

“Confirm.”

“Ha. Hehe.” Yalan’s eyes became vacant and the young man fell over, unconscious.

“Notification: Initiate Yalan, a malfunction in personal waste excretion unit. Log archived.” Callus noted the young man’s soiled clothes as Kuratorum sighed once more.

A roar of sparks and a gout of burning sacred oils accompanied the rites which ignited the engine-heart of the Explorator mobile base vehicle, which would in turn serve as the forward base, fire support vehicle and data storage during the exploration.

Behind the vehicle was a tracked cart that was tied down with layers upon layers of holy seals, chains and robust bolts.

The cart seemed to rumble for a moment before coming still as the tech-archeologist Callus lifted all three of his hands in prayer towards it, the machine-spirit of the beast within seemingly becoming appeased by the binharic prayer the Taghmata-affiliated documenter spoke out.

“Ahem, I do not wish to presume, but…” Yalan, now with ‘new’ pair of robes that were only hundred years old or so, edged away from the cart. “What exactly is that?”

Kuratorum turned his oculars towards the young enginseer, weighing the pros and cons of telling the young one about the ‘cargo’ of the explorator team.

“Information: Explorator team affiliation- Taghmata.” Kuratorum finally ground out through the vox, causing Yalan to pale even further than what his already-pale complexion allowed.

“Is that a Abdominable Intellige-”

“Warning: Explorator fleet contains total of zero mechanical units with Abdominable Intelligence.” Callus remarked as he continued his prayers with the binharic vox and spoke with the lingua gothic vox-hailer.

“I- Do not understand…”

“Observation: This outcome is acceptable.” Kuratorum nodded and boarded the mobile base, which was quite cramped even if the majority of Skitarii and servitors accompanying the force would travel by foot, claw or track of their own.

Yalan stuffed himself into the crowded space as well, while Callus boarded the vehicle by perching himself on top of the cargo, never stopping the binharic prayers that would calm the beast within.

.
.
.

A few days later the mobile base reached the remote habitat-module which had been referred to in the transferred mission details.

Kuratorum walked in front of the extermination force, while Yalan stayed behind with the kataphron servitors and majority of the Skitarii Rangers, safely out of harm's way. Of course, the position was mostly so that the task force’s observer wouldn’t die and thus complicate the report to the local sector governor, rather than because Yalan was an asset to the Explorator force.

The buildings around the force were empty of life, yet there were no real signs of battle, if one ignored weathered bullet markings from an ancient gang war or some such and occasional craters left by atmospheric debris falling on the streets.

“Yes, it seems that whatever xenos may have been here have retreated or died off, yes? We can retreat, yes?” Yalan’s nervous voice came through the vox-network as the enginseer spoke to a Skitarii’s Ranger’s backpack-vox.


It seemed that the breach of radio silence was picked up by something as a flock of birds of some kind seemed to rise from a nearby ruin, only for Kuratorum to catch a glimpse of chitin that in instant data-recording and replay proved to be a vaguely xenos-like form with golden carapace.

“++All Task Force units- Contact, bearing front, formation -> Spearhead, establish frontline++” Kuratorum’s Lingua Technica engine instantly spat out orders and Skitarii fanned out to a well-practised formation- Vanguards at the front, Rangers taking high ground, Servitors forming a wall of guns between the two, and Dragoons seeking positions to breach the enemy’s lines and wreak havoc upon them in furious melee.

A faint whimper came from Yalen’s vox before a massive, winged creature form rose from behind buildings, causing Kuratorum to pause as his logic processor overloaded.

“++Alert- Alert- Alert- Xenos Horrifica Majoris Tyrannos detected, classification ‘Hive Tyrant’, Planetary invasion status=true, Planetary invasion progress?=Late Stage{Consumption}, hive fleet=present, Morello IV status?=Dead World/ETA24-72hour.standardTerraHour.++” Kuratorum’s data-recorded spat a foot-long line of parchment in a second as it recorded the enemy.

A faint screaming sound, likely from initiate Yalan, came from the vox as a Skitarii Ranger read aloud the data-burst Kuratorum send to the whole task force, which was then accompanied by a chorus of hisses and screeches as the buildings seemed to suddenly swarm with life.

Late-stage Tyranid organisms such Warriors sprang forth from a building, firing a eerie alien weapon that easily melted its way through a building’s exterior and melting a Skitarii ranger to slag, while smaller forms of the aliens seemed to burst from a building’s floor panels.

A well-practised battleline formed as the Skitarii rushed forwards… Only for Kuratorum to notice a data-cache in one of the ruined ‘piles’ of metal that in retrospect looked vaguely ‘Imperial’, but almost as if it had been chewed out and then collected to a single position like how Xenos ‘Orks’ would collect waste.

“++Command override, new mission-> Data/Acquire++” Kuratorum ordered a squad of Skitarii Vanguards forwards, as the presence of late-stage Tyranid organisms suggested that the alien force would likely overwhelm the Mechanicus forces in prolonged engagement, thus the Dominus-class Tech-priest Overseer prioritized acquiring whatever lost relics the aliens might have gathered together in their foolishness over the lives of the Skitarii that would no doubt be lost holding back the coming tide.

The massive form of a Hive Tyrant flew past the main street in which the Skitarii had formed their hasty battle-lines… But instead of crashing through the line like a wrecking ball or obliterating them with swarms and swarms of xenos forms, the street was empty of alien life, both of macro and microscale.

Eerie sense of wrongness permeated Kuratorum’s logic-processor as the alien’s actions failed to meet the expected logical procession, which in turn was an unknown variable that could undermine the whole expedition by means of the entire expedition’s death.

Of course, Kuratorum had left their mobile base behind, alongside their caged asset and majority of the melee-focused security forces in preparation for possible rear-facing ambush, since he expected ‘Lictor’ forms to be accompanying Tyranid vanguard organisms as part of the Hive Fleet’s initial invasion.

Making a snap decision, Kuratorum decided to go for stratagem ‘Decapitating Strike’, as loss of major synapse-creatures was documented to result in loss of coherency in the Tyranid alien hive- And so, the Dominus tech-priest ordered all of the Kataphron Destroyer-class servitors to overload their plasma calivers, disable heat-shielding and focus all of the plasma coils to a single volley.

The Hive Tyrant came from behind the building, launching a stream of worms at the Skitarii… only for the majority of the worms to harmlessly splatter against their armor and slide off, a far cry of the expected ferocity normally found in the abhorrent weapons.

In return the Kataphron Destroyers unleashed a devastating volley, the already archeotech-like weapons overloading themselves far beyond any normal means and launching a torrent of bolts that set the smog-like sky ablaze.

The Tyranid Lord attempted to dive away, leveraging its speed and inhuman agility that was unexpected of such a massive creature and causing some of the plasma bolts to hit buildings or careen off… But the creature’s wings were too large a target to miss, and the bolts burned the creature’s wings off, causing it to come to a crashing halt as it landed on the street nearby, ready to visit violence upon the Mechanicus forces despite having lost large chunks of its armor, chitin and flesh.

That, too, was within Kuratorum’s logical calculations as he had not expected the plasma volley to down the creature by itself, but rather place it in a convenient spot.

.
.
.
In nearby building a Skitarii Ranger lifted its seven feet long rifle to its monopod, the data-tether in its brain detailing the exact moves Kuratorum had intended for it to execute, and the warrior of Adeptus Mechanicus lifted the Transuranic Arquebus with mechanically perfect motions, took aim, and fired.

.
.
.

In the distance the wounded but standing and roaring Hive Tyrant became rigid as the rad-saturated assassionation-round entered the creature’s brain through its eye, and the creature fell slowly on its back like a building toppling down.

.
.
.

“++Alert, Alert, Alert- Unexpected behaviour, unexpected error.++” Kuratorum was starting to feel incredibly paranoid as he ordered a squad of Skitarii Vanguard to approach a nearby building to gain better defensive position. The enemy that was oddly scattered yet seemingly late-stage in design but few in number caused the logic processor of the Dominus to go into overdrive as he walked past the bodies of the Kataphron Servitors that had taken the Hive Tyrant down from the sky.

Most of the servitors were either dead or singed as their heavy plasma calivers had overloaded, either causing the servitors to burst into flames or melt into slag as their weapon’s safety cooling systems had overloaded during the reckless volley and had vented the sun-like heat generated by the plasma coils directly into their surrounding area, which included and was mostly made by the weapon’s user themselves.

Kuratorum logged the losses, which were acceptable considering the kill and lamenting only the loss of a few plasma calivers which were far beyond recovery.

The servitors themselves were easy to replace, albeit it’d require the task force to return to the dropship and spend a few weeks tinkering with new ‘recruits’.

A horrified screaming coming from the vox-hailer told Kuratorum that the xenos had likely shown themselves, easing the cramps the Dominus was starting to feel over the odd xenos presence.

“Initiate Yalan, calm your emotional processor.” Kuratorum spoke to his internal vox as he accompanied a squad of Vanguards to scout a building while a squad of Rangers were providing them with covering fire against some distant targets.

“They’re all over me! Genestealers! No! Don’t! AAAAH! They are killing them all!” Yalan’s voice was panicked, as were the words. In response Kuratorum let a long sigh into the vox.

“Skitarii units are expendable.”

“I’m next! They’re going to kill me!”

“You are expendable as well.”

“They- Was that supposed to help?!”

Kuratorum sighed once again while rubbing his head, only for a xenos form that was thrice as tall and twice as wide as a regular human to burst through the wall of a nearby building. The creature charged into melee instantly and swiped at the Dominus with its primitive bone-made blades.

Kuratorum parried the blow with his axe, grabbed the heft with all three of his arms and stabbed his mechadendrites to the Tyranid Warrior’s outreaching limbs.

The warrior, thus pinned, could not avoid a decapitating blow that severed the abhorrent xenos’s head from its shoulder.

“As I was saying, utilize the combination of logical processing and optimized melee subroutines to avoid permanent shutdown.” Kuratorum used ‘Extra-long-winded speech mode’ just to get the message through to the Initiate. “Reminder, extensive combat record is seen as a bonus factor in rank-up testing.”

“A bonus? Um- I’ll… I’ll try, master Kuratorum! Initiate Yalan, out! I’ll not let you down!” The vox cut off.

.
.
.


Roughly half an hour later the battle had come to an end, and Kuratorum returned to the main battle line after his brief excursion past the line to see if the aliens had left any other relics after them.

The Dominus turned his head to one side, taking in the sight of Skitarii units repairing themselves or burning those who were too damaged in order to separate the weak flesh and the blessed machine, so the latter could be embedded into a new host.

The Dominus looked to the other side to see a Dragoon digging at a pile of scrap left by the aliens, and from the looks of it, the Skitarii logismotive engine had found a few interesting items that could, technically, be ‘found’ by the Explorator task force and used for the task force’s benefit.

After all, the local mechanicum to whom the items technically belonged to were no longer in possession of them, and thus were free game for ‘tech-acquiring’.

A brief look-around produced no results for what Kuratorum searched, except until Kuratorum checked a low-frequency radar and found a long ‘SOS’ screech.

The Dominus strode, or rather chittered due to his lack of human legs, to a pile of corpses that matched the appearance of genestealers. And the tech-priest began digging into the pile.

After a few minutes of searching and one re-execution of a surprisingly lively dead genestealer, the Dominus found what he was looking for.

“Initiate Yalan, I did not give you the permission to die.” Kuratorum laced the high gothic with as much reprimanding tone as he could as he pulled Yalan’s head from the pile of bodies. “++Observer=out_of_action. LocalReport?=Nul. Body?=Recoverable. Action?=Init. Reconfiguration.++”

The head which still buzzed with the automated ‘SOS’ signal despite its user being far gone seemed to gain even more horrified expression as Kuratorum stashed it away.

“YOU FOUND WHAT?!” The noble screeched impotently as the news of potentially planet-devouring tyranid infestation was delivered to the pair who ruled over the factory-hive district. Or rather, the one who ruled over it, and one who enjoyed the opulence granted by her noble ‘blood’.

“+Grave news, +Potential destruction, -Remember Graia-” The Dominus in charge of the factory-hive’s production was quite dire as it turned around the head of the initiate who had been sent to accompany the tech-priests from Mars, but who had been severed from his body by the claw of the Genestealer. “News distributed. Inquisition contact logged. Information forwarded.”

The noble screeched even harder as Inquisition was mentioned in High Gothic, but Kuratorum and the factory-hive Dominus had long since tuned out her words and moved on to screeching to one another in binary.

“Inquisition contact = not advistable.” Kuratorum advised as the Taghmata did not want the ever-nosy Inquisition poking their noses into their affairs, like they usually did.

“Explanation needed” The Dominus had curious undertone in his binharic code, causing Kuratorum to lift the strength of his internal firewalls just in case.

“Provided explanation= none.”

“...Advice duly heeded, logged, and ignored.” The Dominus didn’t seem concerned by the threat in Kuratorum’s code-burst. “Information = acquired, target = scouted, Dropship ‘Iron Blood’ is cleared for takeoff starting from 04:00 local time.”

Kuratorum cut off the communication stream in response to the Dominus’s dismisssal, which was under laced with code that roughly read “And get out of my factory, please.”

Kuratorum couldn’t fault the fellow Dominus, on the account that it’s array of cameras might have noticed a few pieces of ‘acquired’ hardware that the red-robed priests had ‘come across’ during the mission to scout the disappearances in the factory’s meat-district.

Kuratorum nodded his oculars at the noble who seemed to be in the verge of exhaling her lungs from screaming her outrage at the news of the ‘Tyranid invasion proceeding in her factory-hive, localized entirely within a single district, and composed entirely of late-stage Tyranid organisms’.

Nonetheless, Kuratorum had more important things to do than to listen to the noble’s rambling, as he had a mission and now thanks to the Tyranid threat, he had even less time to carry it out than he had thought.

However, Kuratorum’s endorphin levels were quite high as the mission could finally proceed without interruptions...

“Note: I have uploaded clearance codes into this piece of hardware.” A binharic message came through Kuratorum’s spam filters, and he turned around to see that the factory-hive’s Dominus was offering the severed head of Initiate Yalan to Kuratorum, and the head had gained a fairly impressive amounts of cyberware in the short span of time.

“Elaborate.” Kuratorum’s reply was curt, and the Dominus explained in not-uncertain terms that he expected Kuratorum to carry the head around for the rest of his ‘stay’ in Morello IV as it had been uploaded with clearance codes necessary to pass by inspections from local mechanicus-affiliated forces.

Kuratorum accepted he head with stiff motions, and forcibly override his endorphin levels as they had crashed right through the floor with just a few words...

.
.
.

“Your emotion core is malfunctioning.” Callus noted as Kuratorum returned to the task-force proper, and mounted the severed head of Initiate Yalan to a servitor’s body.

“I am ready to continue my mission.” Kuratorum’s words were under laced with tone that told Callus to shut up, which was further reinforced by the fact the two talked in gothic and not in binary.

“I see.” Callus bowed his hooded head just a bit and the priest stuck to a floating chair floated away to oversee his ‘ward’ in the rear of the mobile command vehicle.

Or rather, would have gone to oversee it… If not for a horrifying metallic screech that came from within the cargo of the vehicle.

Huge mechadendrites burst out through the cargo case’s roof, tearing the metal apart as if it was plastic and wood. A mechanical tentacle grabbed a nearby Skitarii’s head, crushing it instantly and flinging the body into the cage, causing a splurt of oil, blood and rad-saturated particles to come out of the cracks of the cage…

And then a massive, chained-down form that was partially covered in a burlap burst out of the cargo crate.

Callus had slammed his hands instantly together in a hasty prayer as soon as he had seen the cargo buckle, but it seemed that something had agitated the cargo beyond normal reason… And so, the Vultarax Stratos-Automata burst out of it’s shell, and flew off after tearing itself out of it’s metal womb behind the base vehicle.

Kuratorum looked at the cargo crate that had been filled with sustaining oils, seals, ancient embedded technology and other means of placating the machine within… And all of it was now lost, as the violent struggle had crushed all of it.

The Stratos-Automata tagged ‘Eternal Curiosity’ over it’s ancient, curious and flighty nature flew off in a machine-equivalent of a bloodthirsty rage.

Kuratorum felt as if his day couldn’t get any worse as he ordered his Ironstriders to run after the aircraft, while the rest of the battle-force diverted their course to chase after the scouts.

.
.
.

It turned out that the day could get worse, as the Ironstriders had sent a quick message about encountering an ancient enemy… Before the communication had been cut in half in a hail of high-caliber gunfire.

“Incredible. Sublime.” Tech-Priest initiate Yalan commented as he observed his new body, as Kuratorum had stuck the initiate’s head in the nearest one he could find. “You couldn’t at least ensure that my head went right way around into this body?”

“Adjust your movement and tactics accordingly.” Kuratorum was in no mood for the initiate’s complaints as he motioned for the Skitarii to move forward towards the sounds of battle… Only for the sounds of battle to come straight towards them.

Kuratorum dodged into a pile of metal masonry as high-caliber shells the size of a grown man’s leg whizzed by, and the repeated bark of an autocannon more or less informed them of the caliber of weapon they’d be fighting… Except, none of the Explorator task force were ready for what the weapons were attached to.

Kuratorum had barely enough time to order the Skitarii into a standard combat formation before a trio of Squires of an Imperial House charged forward… Or what had once been Squires of an imperial house, but the mechanical squire-knights the size of small buildings were now corrupted beyond measure.

Iron that had been wrought in the flames of hell itself screamed in agony and rage as the hellish caricatures of ancient Imperial lore unleashed devastating firepower, cutting down the ranks of the Kataphron destroyers which were preparing to unleash a volley of plasma.

Skitarii were split in two from a grazing hit of the devilish autocannons, and direct hits caused the rad-saturated troopers to explode into gory chunks and decorate the interiors of the houses they had used as cover- But the thin metal of the walls proved little cover from the cannons which punched right through the walls.

Yalan screamed something incomprehensible as the tech-priest seemed to gain a degree of control over himself amidst the chaos, and took leadership of the remaining Destroyers, directing their fire at the Squires… And managing to wound one with the volley of plasma.

The Squire reeled back… And then it’s hellishly-glowing oculars honed into the kataphron destroyers, and more importantly, to Yalan.

Yalan let a small ‘eep’ as the Squire charged, crushing through the kataphron servitors as if they were toys and toppling the tracked servitor-tankettes of Mechanicus with ease.

However, Kuratorum was more concerned with one of the hellish creatures that had fallen forwards into it’s face, as it had been suddenly enveloped in a chain of explosions that seemed to rain from above.

A glance upwards revealed a dot in the sky that was coming closer at very rapid pace, and from it’s underside launched a long series of bombs that impacted on and around one of the walking monstrosities…

And Kuratorum saw as one of the Squires fell under the onslaught of bombs dropped by the Vultrax, which had no doubt sensed the corrupted machines and had driven itself to a holy fervor.

After all, the Vultrax’s ancient cousins had once served Mechanicum loyally, but during Horus Heresy the factories capable of producing and maintaining Vultrax had been caught by the traitors, and corrupted to produce shambling, mindless creatures that were a parody of their former selves.

And, much like the bloat drones that had once been Vultraxes, the bloat drones had much the same opinion towards the few Vultrax that remained loyal to the Mechanicum.

Nonetheless, the ancient hatred between the mechanical creature and Chaos had manifested in the machine’s rage, and it was directed solely at the Squires.

The Vultrax impacted against the Squire, tearing chunks out of it’s armor with its mechadendrites in the passing… But before it could do much to the fallen armored squire, another came and quite literally kicked the buzzing machine from it’s comrades' carapace.

Kuratorum, however, was in position to assist and powered up his Volkite Blaster, and aimed it squarely at the fallen squire… And the ancient weapon discharged, tearing right through the weakened plate and causing the mechanical monster to become motionless.

“+Discovery, +Potential insight into enemy, + Potential insight into lost patrol tag ‘E0’” Kuratorum realized that the fallen mini-Knight proved a potential treasure-trove of valuable information, and ordered his Skitarii to rummage through the wreck of the destroyed squire.

The Skitarii ran at the downed monster… And a hail of gunfire turned the soldiers into chunks in the pavement as another Squire rammed it’s way through a nearby building, and kicked the Vultrax off it after the machine had tried to ran it through with its tentacles.

The Squire had dealt some damage to the Vultrax, yet it was clear that the red-painted machine’s fervor was not slowing down as the Squire had long gouges on it’s armor... but the un-bombed, un-weakened armor was clearly too much for the Vultrax to penetrate with its mechadendrites alone.

The mechanical fly-like machine took to the air once more while autocannon shells wracked it’s armor, leaving massive holes and gouges in the hardened skin of the vehicle, but the machine nonetheless managed to get off the Squire’s immediate reach.

The autocannon-armed squire turned it’s mechanical head, and spotted Kuratorum who had climbed on top of the fallen Squire, and had his many tentacles elbow-deep in the wreck of the Squire's comrade.

Kuratorum blinked.

The Squire blinked.

The next second there was a storm of shells and volkite fire as the Squire and Kuratorum opened fire on each other… And a few seconds later, Kuratorum discovered that he, in fact, was not bulletproof to high-caliber shells, and the Squire’s un-weakened armor was very much bulletproof to anti-flesh Volkite weapon.

The autocannon-armed Squire howled in it’s victory… Until a whistling sound of a bomb caused it to reconsider early celebration, and then the upright and momentarily-vulnerable corrupted machine was turned to scrap metal by a volley of bombs from the now-returning Vultrax.

The semi-sentient machine screamed it’s anger in binharic, causing the nearby Skitarii to take cover as their ear-stumps began to bleed, and the flying machine took off to find a new victim.

Meanwhile Yalan was experiencing the feeling of being a wingless fly that was being swung at by a particularly angry human. Or rather, he was the fly, and the enraged Squire with scorpion-like tail was the human of the analogy, even though the pilot of the corrupted machine had likely long since stopped being a human. Or existed in mortal realm at all.

“No, nope, not again, nuh-uh.” Yalan dodged into a pile of trash as the stinger tipped with melta-lance swung by his face… And then the appendage came back after performing an unnatural lurch from one speed vector to another at a rate which was impossible for conventional machines.

The melta-lance whacked Yalan in the head, rotating it one hundred and eighty degrees.

“Huh.” Yalan realized that his body was the right way around now, and glanced down to see that yes, his joints bent like they should this time around.

A fraction of a second later the Squire’s foot came down on top of Yalan, and the new body was reduced into thin red-clothed paste that splurted out between the Squire’s hooves.

The melta-lance equipped Squire spotted the last of the Skitarii… Only for a enraged and wounded Vultrax to land into it’s back, and deposit it’s bombs into the scorpion-like Squire’s plasma-weakened carapace like a predatory dragonfly depositing it’s eggs into the back of a fly.

The squire turned around on the ground and snatched the Vultrax by it’s tentacles as it attempted to fly away… And the Vultrax screeched as it realized it had been caught and the Squire reeled the Vulrax into the reach of it’s claws.

The Melta-tailed Squire screeched an insult towards the Vultrax in perfect binary, in a machine equivalent of flipping it the bird, before the bombs deposited into it’s back exploded…

And the Squire detonated it’s own plasma reactor with the bombs, causing the ancient flying machine stuck to the Squire’s claws to catch fire and let out a horrifying scream in both binary and in vocal frequency.

The burning and battered Vultrax crashed against a nearby building, toppling it down and causing a wave of masonry dust to envelop the battlefield.


In the distance, a single team of Skitarii sharpshooters who had remained outside the immediate battlefield were staring at the battlefield in abject shock.

One of the Skitarii reached into a vox-hailer, and a thoroughly exhausted-sounding Skitarii Marshal answered.

“...They’ve made a mess of the place again, haven’t they?” The Marshal’s rubbing of his no-longer existing eyebrows was practically audible through the vox. “I’ll send a word to Archeologist Callus that the holy machine was pacified… Although… I’d prefer if you idiots over there dragged Dominus Kuratorum out of the heretek machine before anyone starts asking questions…”

The remaining Skitarii, for as much self-awareness and self-governing they had, completely agreed.