POV: Nicole
From orbit, the capital forge-city of Cypra Mundi did not resemble a city so much as a wound in the skin of the world. It is a vast, geometric scar that glows with the steady malignancy of industry. Continents of metal sprawl outwards in regimented hexagonal districts, each one a cathedral to function over form. The natural crust has long since been flensed away, replaced with adamantium plating, reactor spires, and kilometer-wide manufactorum stacks that breathe out ash and luminescent exhaust in slow, churning tides.
We are directed to the primary landing corridor for VIPs closest to the structure that hosts the Forum. Despite its label, enough distance remains that further transport is required, and it is not feasible to travel on foot, far enough that an entire motorcade of gleaming hover transports awaits us as we land.
Flanking said transports are row after row of Skitarii. Those to the right are covered in gleaming reflective chrome plates, the metal polished to a perfect mirror sheen. On the other side are more industrial-looking Skitarii, their armour and gear are heavy with sharp angles and edges, that half is all function over form, with the only ornamentation being the Cog of the Mechanicus, and their bodies painted in the colors of Cypra Mundi.
The lead Skitarii unit, a Praetorian Tribune, at the head of the two distinct units of Praetorians, steps forward as we disembark. It’s both a show of force and a display of how seriously they’re taking our security.
“This unit's designation is: CMS-10-04. On behalf of the Fabricator Locum, I greet Archmagos Doll and assorted esteemed visiting guests. Welcome to Cypra Mundi.” They say aloud while offering a far more extensive greeting over the Noosphere. CMS-10-04 is so heavily augmented that it’s impossible to discern their original gender at a glance. Their voice box gives their words a distinct buzz that tickles the ear. “Your transport has been arranged. Please follow me.”
The row of hover transports are each tagged within the Noosphere for who goes in what car. I got to stay with Master Doll in the most ornate and technologically advanced Mechanicus lead car while Lord Drakios moved to the second, slightly more Imperial-themed vehicle, along with the teams guarding the STC. Baldos and some of the Astartes had to go in the largest transport due to their combined weight. It is far more robust and obviously designed for their larger frames and weight, while still providing some comforts.
I am glad I am wearing my helmet under my hood. Despite the air being nicer in this part of the city, the air outside it is barely tolerable. Anyone without a mask, rebreather, or implants would struggle to deal with the smog for long periods of time. It is a stark contrast to the air within the transport, which is exceptionally well purified and air-conditioned, nearly matching that of an unpolluted boreal world.
The hover transports weave down through the upper spires. From this elevation, the massive forge spires, each fighting for precious space with the others, form a vast, sprawling labyrinth of metal that stretches in all directions. We descend towards the Forum, and the massive circular structure emerges from the haze, its outline forming the shape of a giant cog. Hundreds, if not thousands, of red-robed individuals make their way into the venue through its various entrances.
Our transports land just outside the main entrance, and the local Skitarii file out to form escort lines. The main central thoroughfare is marked clearly in the noosphere and reserved for VIPs.
CMS-10-04’s optics pass over the delegation in a swift but thorough audit, each member accounted for in turn. Satisfied, the Skitarii inclined its upper body in a shallow bow. “Please,” they intoned, “Follow me.” They turn without waiting for acknowledgment as they begin to lead us toward the looming entrance of the Forum. The great portal irised open at its approach, revealing a cavernous interior of polished metal and ancient stonework. Vaulted arches climb into shadows far overhead, their surfaces are etched with binharic litanies and sigils of jurisdiction. Soft lumen strips cast a steady, contemplative glow across tiered seating galleries and suspended data-looms that drifted like metallic constellations in the air. As they crossed the threshold, CMS-10-04 spoke again. “You will be scanned as you enter.” A faint shimmer passes across the entryway in my vision as the invisible lattice of auspex fields and noospheric verification rites that whispered over us, verifying biological and digital identification markers.
I recheck my aura and make sure it remains as muted as I can possibly make it. Despite my efforts with my aura, the moment I cross the threshold to enter the Forum, I feel the room thrum as multiple curious machine spirits reach out to welcome me. Master Doll and a few others with sharp enough senses to detect it glance my way in amusement.
“As honored guests, you are not required to disarm,” CMS-10-04 continues, pacing steadily along the central aisle. Their footfalls echoed across a floor inlaid with circuitry patterns that pulsed faintly beneath translucent plating. “We of Cypra Mundi humbly request restraint in the use of weaponry except in the most dire of circumstances.” They passed beneath a suspended ring of cog-toothed iconography rotating in silent gravitic suspension, its inner surfaces alive with scrolling precedent-archives and legal cant. “This is a place of judgment and remembrance,” CMS-10-04 proceeds, gesturing with a slender manipulator limb toward the surrounding tiers of record-vaults and debate dais. “Of data preserved and disputes resolved. A sanctuary of knowledge where logic tempers conflict.” They slowed as the seating tier assigned to them came into view. “I will escort you to your positions,” they announce, “and provide a verbal account of the Forum’s history.”
If CMS-10-04 noticed the reaction of the Forum to my entrance, they don't show it, and they continue to regale us with the history of the Forum. “The Forum was erected in the early thirty-third millennium. It was originally utilized as a site for entertainment. However, in the thirty-fifth millennium, the Forum was repurposed as a site for governance due to the loss of the previous governmental center to industrial restructuring and the subsequent restructuring of the Cypra Mundi council system, which stratified the councils and allowed more representatives to participate. The site was renovated and transitioned into the Forum. Initially, the seats of importance were placed in elevated locations. This proved to be problematic. Due to how the Forum is ventilated, holy incense and various hotter gases are pulled upwards. At the same time, cooler purified air sinks, thus the seating is inverted, the lower seating amenities are of higher quality and reserved for high-ranking individuals.” Amusingly, this design shares a lot of design choices and seating arrangements as the ancient Colosseum of Rome.
CMS-10-04 continues ignorant of my musings, “You will all be seated in the lowest section for visitors. Each seat has a Noospheric port and a digital interface for those without the proper implants to interface. The interface displays translate binaric in real time and can be used to follow along with presentations on the main holographic monitor. Below your section will be the Cypra Mundi High Council, the Fabricator Locum, and the Fabricator General. The section to your right holds seats for the leaders of the local Titanicus Legios, and to your left is the section for foreign Forge World representatives, while the seats in the section opposite yours are for various individuals of importance, such as the Inquisition and individuals above the rank of Magos who are not on the High Council. Seated behind and above you will be the Magi of the Middle Council.”
We pass through a tunnel and emerge into the Forum itself. It’s a massive space, and the tiered seating is as described. The individual seats are quite large, likely to account for size discrepancies in augmented individuals. The Forum has a very Roman feel to it, mixed with a mix of Mechanicus industrial and Imperial Gothic flair.
As we reach our section, I glance down towards the central stage. The stage is an ornate raised platform set in the center of the Forum, and surrounding it are the seats of the High Council - seven of which are already present. According to the Noosphere, the imperious-looking Archmagos seated in the most ornate of the chairs is the Fabricator Locum, Archmagos Korr. I glance around in confusion for a moment. Where is the throne for the Fabricator General? There is just a massive metal bowl situated by the stage that is chock-full of high-end cogitator-banks, power cables, and coolant lines. I cast my gaze outwards in search of answers and fail to spot the Fabricator General’s Noospheric tag.
Korr is, at first glance, nearly indistinguishable from an Archmagos Prime. Pristine red robes fall in immaculate lines about his frame, their fine weave unmarred by oil or ash. A tall, angular, flat-topped headdress crowns his heavily augmented skull, its severe geometry lending him the silhouette of a living icon of the Mechanicus.
The fabric of his robes parts in deliberate intervals, revealing a forest of ornate mechadendrites: articulated metal tendrils that coil and uncoil with unsettling independence. Each is tipped with tools, scalpels, data-probes, or needle-fine manipulators. They move with delicate precision, tasting the air like the feelers of some vast mechanical insect, sampling heat, motion, weakness.
His right eye has been replaced by a multi-lensed augmetic array that glows a sullen red, its stacked irises whirring softly as they refocus with faint, insectile clicks. The other remains organic, though diminished – shrunken and veined, set within a tight crescent of pallid flesh, sunk deep into a skull braced with adamantine struts. Vox-grilles have supplanted his lower jaw, rendering his speech as a layered metallic resonance.
He carries the habitual hunch of an Archmagos, but upon him it reads not as frailty, but as restraint – a deliberate stoop born of towering intellect. There is dignity in it, and an innate air of superiority radiates from his frame.
Where his arms once hung, jointed manipulators now extend in their place. One terminates in a clawed servo-hand of polished steel; another divides into a cluster of fine mechano-digitals capable of threading micro-circuitry or crushing bone with equal, clinical detachment. Cables as thick as arteries feed into his torso, pulsing faintly with captive power.
His legs have been wholly surrendered to augmentation, replaced by an array of compact pneumatic limbs and gravitic stabilizers that allow him to glide across the floor with disquieting smoothness – no footfall, only the muted sigh of pistons and the whisper of robes over metal.
In his left manipulator, he bears an ornate, mastercrafted Corposant Stave, its head wrought in filigreed electrum and caged energy coils. Faint arcs of contained lightning crawl along its length, eager, restrained – like its master.
Master Doll pauses before the stairs leading to our seats and looks down to the High Council seats, and nods respectfully. I quickly turn and see Fabricator Locum Korr has stood up and is returning the greeting.
—-------------
The Forum begins to quiet down in anticipation as the time ticks closer to the start. I take a quick look at the time myself, and the very second there is only a minute left before the beginning, the massive set of ornate double-doors embossed with the Mechanicus and Cypra Mundi heraldry rumbles and starts to open.
The whole Forum falls eerily silent. The heavy anticipation is only broken by the sound of massive, heavy, and mechanical footfalls coming from the darkened hall behind the now-open doors.
As I behold the immense form of Aptimos Mundi Phi<0.05, I finally understand why no one here has dared to challenge or assassinate the Fabricator General. The Fabricator General's figure is a towering fusion of human and war engine, he is a drider made of metal, a colossal spider-construct from the waist down.
His body is suspended high above the ground in a heavy mechanical chassis supported by eight long, segmented legs. Each limb is jointed like an industrial crane, plated in red and brass armor, and anchored with massive hydraulic pistons. The legs splay outward in a predatory stance, giving the machine both height and dreadful stability, as if it could crush armored vehicles beneath its weight. Despite the size and weight, the entire construct moves with a dreadful grace: not lumbering, but deliberate, efficient movements.
He reaches the central platform flanked by the seats of the high council and settles his heavily armored thorax into the bowl throne. Deep within his body-construct, a fusion reactor of considerable potency thrums. My seat is close enough that his forelegs are just within range of my auspex, and I spot the power-field generators discreetly buried within the last segment of the limbs. The man could literally cut a tank in two with minimal effort.
From the waist up, he is vaguely humanoid, but there is no flesh to be seen. He wears a loose, deep crimson Mechanicus robe. The robes stream downward in torn, wind-caught layers, contrasting sharply against the cold metal that surrounds them. His two primary cybernetic eyes, one glows red, the other a deep violet, deep within their encased housings flanked by smaller secondary optic suites. His face is a mask of metal vaguely reminiscent of a human skull and the Mechanicus icon. His limbs are two vaguely humanoid, bulging cybernetic arms covered in smooth metallic plates. Along his spine rests a vast collection of mechadendrites that stretches down his back and along the thorax of his lower body. His posture is commanding and composed. His figure appears calm and calculating, elevated above the High Council like a living monument to the Machine God.
He scans the assembly silently before his voice box rumbles to life, and soon his deep robotic voice fills the Forum with a burst of binary at the exact second the inquiry was scheduled to take place. "It is time. You may begin."
I eventually tear my attention away from the impressive physical figure and digital Noospheric presence of the Fabricator General to sweep my gaze over the rest of the High Council just as Korr stands and approaches the lectern.
Most of the High Council looks relaxed or indifferent to the proceedings. However, while most of them are studying Master Doll, one of them, Autokratoris Helix Dravane, who interestingly possessed a mostly human face, is staring straight at me with a pensive expression – and he isn’t the only one. Sitting in the guest section opposite ours, Inquisitor Solenne Arc-Ferrum of the Ordo Machinum is studying me intently while conversing with a poor Legio Orbitalis Legate who looks like he hasn’t slept in a week, and keeps casting me concerned looks.
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POV: Fabricator Locum, Archmagos Rhydan Korr
With the arrival of the Fabricator General and his blessing given, it was time for him to begin the proceedings.
The glorious attention of the whole of the Forum fell to him as he finally spoke, his amplified voice filled the Forum. “Fellows of the Mechanicus and guests, I bid you welcome.” He spread his arms and swept his gaze around the chamber, “It is my privilege to welcome you all to this auspicious gathering of the Cypra Mundi Forum. Ave Deus Mechanicus!”
He gestured with his free hand. “Unfortunately, for many of you. The preliminary issue on the Forum’s docket is a classified matter pertaining to actions taken by today’s honored guest, Archmagos Fabricator Akellonon Doll of the Great Lathes. Individuals without clearance at or above Chromium-Seven, pursuant to Mechanicus Codex: Subsection LXII, will have their feeds muted and the strummers built into your seats activated for the duration of this inquiry.” He could feel the disappointment from the lesser Magi and Tech Priests, and he smugly smirked as he triggered the suppression system.
“For those of you who can still hear me. Congratulations, your opinions actually matter.” He turned towards Archmagos Doll and made a polite welcoming motion, “I invite Archmagos Doll to the primary stage. This is a formal review after his person was automatically flagged for accessing restricted data pertaining to the Xenos known as the Necrons. Specifically, the classified topic of the Xenos entity known as: C’tan. We will receive Archmagos Doll’s account and justification before reviewing relevant data to determine if this access was justified. Archmagos Doll, you have the floor.” Korr retreated from the lectern and returned to his seat. This was just the opening act; it would be done strictly by the numbers, then they could progress to the main event. However, he was curious to hear what had necessitated his peer to access such niche and classified information.
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POV: Archmagos Akellonon Doll
Doll approached and stepped onto the stage, keeping his hood up for now.
“Thank you, Fabricator Locum. Recently, the Drakios Fleet has returned from a perilous journey to the far fringes of the Koronus Expanse.” He accessed the hololith display and pulled up the manifest of their fleet composition. “There, we recovered the three vessels listed here. The Emergency Repairs III, the Cry Havoc, and the Cobalt Coatl. The Emergency Repairs III is a sacred Megiron-class Forge Vessel that we recovered and returned to service. Meanwhile, The Cry Havoc has rightly been claimed by the Titanicus, and the Cobalt Coatl has been claimed by an ally of House Drakios. However, in the process of recovering these vessels, we encountered a heavily damaged Necron capital-class ship, and within that vessel, an active C'tan.”
Doll pulled up detailed data on the giant Necron vessel from the scans taken by the Argent Drake. There were several exclamations of alarm at the sheer size of the vessel from various Magi and those familiar with the more common Necron Tomb Ships.
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“As we initially believed the ship to be a derelict wreck, we dispatched a scouting team to study the vessel. That, however, proved not to be the case. The team recovered a few minor Xenos items of interest from one of the vessel’s armories before they encountered the C’tan. It was found in a chamber designed to restrain it and drain it, while it also powered the vessel – we suspect it was used as the vessel’s main power source. Despite being bound, the C'tan had limited control over the ship's systems as it activated the vessel's FTL-systems after encountering the scouting team, forcing the team to retreat from the ship. The data I accessed was critical in avoiding the entity. It was clear that attempting to deal with the C’tan without an absolutely overwhelming force would result in failure. We also had to contend with a hostile solar event,” Doll explained, pulling up additional data.
“What manner of artifacts were recovered?” Archmagos Vessal Croft inquired.
“The artifacts recovered were primarily melee weapons and pieces of armor. The owning and transport of such Xenos items is covered by Lord Drakio’s Warrant of Trade. They have been cleared by myself, Venatorii Magos Xor, and the Ordo Xenos. Some pieces have already been distributed to the relevant Imperial parties. Inquiries on possible exchanges for pieces would have to go through the items’ current owner,” Doll answered diplomatically.
Several Magi looked interested in such an exchange. Necron technology was a fairly hot yet controversial topic that came up frequently within the Mechanicus.
There were several scrutinizing questions and requests for clarification from various individuals over the next few minutes. He kept some answers vague, but he was more than happy to provide additional data when prompted. Data such as the scans Nicole shared of various Necron weapons and even the throne she appropriated. He had more than enough references to other high-ranking Martian Magi in possession of such items compiled to deflect scrutiny.
Eventually, after Korr had deemed the amount of data to be sufficient, the Fabricator Locum stood up. “I believe that the amount of data and testimony provided by Archmagos Doll is sufficient for us to come to a decision. All Mechanicus individuals will be permitted to participate in the initial vote. The options will be justified, unjustified, or abstain. Voting will remain open for a standard minute.”
Doll stood and waited patiently as the votes were tallied.
The very second the minute had passed, Korr slammed the base of his staff on the stage, and the rest of the Forum was finally unmuted as the votes were tallied. “Four hundred sixty-two votes for justified, ten for unjustified, and eighteen abstentions. Cypra Mundi rules in favor of Archmagos Doll, his usage and access of the restricted data was justified and warranted, given the situation the fleet found itself in, and his actions directly aided in the recovery of multiple Mechanicus-aligned voidships. This matter is concluded. Logs of this event will be archived and suppressed under Chromium-Seven classification pursuant to Mechanicus Codex: Subsection LXII. Ave Deus Mechanicus.”
Korr swept his gaze across the upper tiers of the venue and spoke in High Gothic. “Now that the classified matter is concluded, it is your great privilege to witness this next event, as the visiting Archmagos has graciously agreed to engage with me in a proper debate on factional Mechanicus dogma. One that will be performed in High Gothic for the benefit of the unaugmented individuals in attendance. With additional supporting data available through the noosphere when applicable.”
Korr walked around the edge of the stage, projecting his voice like a stern teacher lecturing his students. “For those of you unfamiliar with my peer, Archmagos Doll, he is the head of the progressive Levelist faction, founded within the Great Lathes. Furthermore, he is known throughout this segmentum as a master artisan; He has obtained the lauded rank of Archmagos through his own efforts and skill. His viewpoints and considerations are based on his inherent values and beliefs. They are not to be discarded lightly. Archmagos?”
It was a rather flattering introduction, all things considered, and Doll felt that it was worth reciprocating. “Thank you, Fabricator Locum. For the benefit of my faction and other visitors, I introduce to you my peer for this debate: Archmagos Alechemys Rhydan Korr, Fabricator Locum of Cypra Mundi. He is one of, if not the most skilled, chemists in the segmentum. He is a leading figure in the conservative Martian Orthodox faction.” Doll paused and reached up to undo the clasp on his robes. “After such lauded praise from my peer on my craft, I believe it is only fair that I share with this august Forum my most recently completed project!”
Doll stepped forward and allowed his robes to slide off his frame, revealing the gleaming armour plates and his mechadendrite suite, one of the smaller tendrils catching his robes before they hit the stage. He extended himself and spread his arms before retracting his faceplate, allowing the full presence and processing power of his new hardware show in his Noospheric signature. There were several awed looks, gasps of surprise, and exclamations of surprise and awe from the crowd.
Korr looked over and nodded his head respectfully, “Magnificent,” he whispered and ceded the floor to Doll for the moment. Even the stoic form of the Fabricator General looked mildly impressed for a brief moment.
Doll smiled, “We are all born as human beings, and as men, we pursue the Machine God’s perfection in the form of the machine. We are given life through the Motive Force, we seek lost knowledge and comprehension in the name of the Omnissiah. The duality of machine and man inspired this body. I am a man yet machine, I am a machine yet a man. This form reflects that, it venerates the base human form that we all share while pushing me closer to the perfection inherent in all machines, and I am proud to reveal it to you all now.” He slowly pivoted on his heel and made a show of flexing his fully articulated limbs before he slipped his robe back over his shoulders.
“My Levelist faction is considered progressive, some might say radical, though my opponent politely did not do so, all due to a single core ideology. We believe that technical knowledge should be shared, not just within the Mechanicus, but shared with all Mankind! So that they too can experience the Omnissiah’s bounty!” He decreed, and instantly the Forum grew noisy as hundreds of spectators spoke out against the idea, various individuals getting into minor arguments both for or against the notion.
Korr let the Forum go on for a few moments before he slammed his staff down and silenced the Forum. “Order!” He clicked his tongue in mild disapproval at the interruption. “That is indeed the belief that makes the Levelist ideology so… divisive. One that we will probe, explore, and dissect today before you all.”
Doll nodded, “Having said all that. Before we get into the true dogmatic debate, it would go against everything my faction stands for if I did not make good on my promise, no?” Doll inclined his head towards the High Council, “To that end, with the permission of the Fabricator General, I have two special gifts to share with everyone here. I give unto you the data of two whole STC fragments in their entirety!”
He reached into the Noosphere and dropped the encryption from the data clusters and sent out notifications to everyone on the network, announcing their presence for anyone to download and access. Doll knew the Bolter STC was well known, and while a few of the ammunition types in their copy may be novel or new, most wouldn’t be produced over the standard ammunition types due to the much higher cost-per-bolt. Cypra Mundi likely knew a vast majority of the schematics already, but when paired with the Perennial Terran Flora STC. The Forum erupted.
Korr looked taken aback by the action, and he cast a quick, questioning glance at the Fabricator General, who gave the smallest of nods. Korr luckily had time to re-evaluate a few things while the rest of the Forum was busy devouring the two now-public STCs. Korr was in far too deep to drop out of the debate now, and he doubted such a sharp, experienced mind would concede after such a setback.
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POV: Fabricator Locum, Archmagos Rhydan Korr
It was clear he had underestimated the windfall his fellow Archmagos had come upon. Two intact STC fragments, even one with mostly repeat data was worth considerable capital. This was either a grand gesture to both display his ideology and placate Cypra Mundi… Or what he believed was more likely, as his eyes drifted to the strange box they had brought in surrounded by Astartes all clad in ancient Saturnine Terminator armour, he had additional artifacts of value, and these two fragments were those that he deemed safe enough to share openly like this without overstepping.
A quick glance at the Fabricator General showed he was not surprised. Korr knew it wasn’t impossible to sneak messages past his network, but that Doll had done so spoke of impressive cunning and tact.
He found it refreshing in a way to be caught off guard and surprised like this.
Korr studied his peer intently despite the chaos that erupted throughout the Forum. He skimmed the two STCs, but there was only a single bolt shell pattern that was not in their local records, the rest were known to Cypra Mundi. The Retribution pattern shells were interesting but costly to produce and thus unlikely to be mass-produced. The Perennial Terran Flora STC, however, was of great interest to Korr himself, and he made sure to secure several clean digital copies.
Korr allowed himself to smile behind his Vox grille. “A grand gesture to be certain, Archmagos. However, do you not see how disorderly this method of delivery has made the previously orderly Forum? Knowledge is dangerous when handled improperly, is it not? Do you truly believe it is wise to share such precious STC data with lowly initiates?” He queried, ignoring the background noise.
Doll looked back at him and smiled, “I do apologise for the disorder caused. But I do not regret distributing these files openly. The Holy data should be shared so that all may look upon the wonders of the Omnissiah. While the potential for misuse can never be zero, I believe the risk to be minimal to an acceptable degree. What I deem far more likely is that the younger generation will take inspiration and learn from the wisdom of the Ancients.”
Korr started to meander across his side of the stage. The rest of the High Council and the closest tiers had already made copies of the data and had focused back on the debate as the pair resumed speaking.
“It is curious that you speak of misuse,” Korr replied coolly. “The data in question has not been cast into the void for any scavenger to plunder; it was disseminated solely through Mechanicus channels. The Noosphere nodes that carry it are restricted to our priesthood.” His optics narrowed slightly, lenses adjusting with a faint whir. “As for those few present who do not bear the red of Holy Mars – they are individuals of sufficient rank and sanction to lawfully possess STC derivatives. Nothing has been entrusted beyond what their offices already permit. If there is impropriety here, it is not in distribution… but in perception.” Korr inquired critically.
“One might argue that data has already been spread. Do not countless manufactoria unaffiliated with us, run by other Imperial factions, produce bolt shells? The floral STC should be shared with whoever can properly make use of it – That will not just be us, it will be with civilized Imperial worlds and Agriworlds that can grow the flora, or perhaps a specific strain could aid a planet in developing a biosphere. This data is beneficial to people within the Mechanicus or outside of it. That data in particular is filled with delights,” Doll replied with a pleased, subvocal purr.
Korr nodded, “You could make that argument, yes, but how far does the privilege of data access go? Should we give every guardsman access to the holiest of STCs?” Korr did his best to sound scandalized by the mere notion.
Doll wisely paused and conceded the point, “No, we are the Mechanicus. It is our sacred duty to safeguard and distribute knowledge. Knowledge is power, and certain things, I will admit, as we discussed before this debate, are too dangerous for the general public. However, I do not believe that individuals outside the Mechanicus should be denied knowledge wholesale. I have verifiable data supporting this claim: A guardsman who is taught how to properly attend to his weapon; how to appease its Machine Spirit, how to enact simple repairs, and basic troubleshooting has a significant statistical improvement over his peers in both the rate of weapon malfunction and survivability,” Doll shared a delightful glut of data to back up his claim.
Korr preened, “Ah, but now we come back to the issue, how much to share? Do not forget how such data can be misused. The Icarus uprisings? The fall of Forge Sata-9?” He flicked his wrist, and the data on those events was shown. In each case, Machine Spirits had ended up misused, and the Holy Warnings violated to some degree.
Doll acknowledged the incidents with a respectful nod. “Those events, each and every one of them, are terrible and tragic, yes, but those incidents could have been avoided with proper management and guidance.”
Korr noticed a flaw and pounced, “You speak of responsible dissemination,” Korr said evenly, mechadendrites flexing in faint agitation. “Yet once sacred schemata leave sealed vaults and enter the wider Noosphere, control becomes… theoretical.” His human eye and cybernetic optics narrowed a fraction. “Encryption fails. Archives are breached. Corruption can fester.” A calculated pause. “Are you prepared to guarantee that what you share in piety today will not arm those who would profane it tomorrow?” His voice lowered slightly. “Hereteks require only fragments. Does your outlook not include sharing with them, too?” It was an inciting comment designed to elicit a negative response, and Korr was pleased to see it did; the flicker of disgust and rage had only lasted a moment, but Korr had seen it.
“No. No, it does not,” Doll replied coolly. “My Levelist faction believes that knowledge should be shared only with mankind, and only those who stay true to the Omnissiah and the Machine God.”
Korr eased back, having elicited the response he sought. “A lauded goal, but one filled with perils. As I am sure you are no doubt aware, our peers hoard knowledge and secrets like the dragons of old Terran myths.” His gaze trailed to the representatives of the other Forge Worlds.
Doll looked pensive as he turned his head that way, and he nodded, “It is a shame, despite our shared origins, that we of the Mechanicus and children of the Omnissiah do not always cooperate and share our wonders with one another.”
Korr hummed before bringing up the next issue. “Now your egalitarian views have been shared with the Forum. Yet I know each and every individual who has earned their robes or their Omnissian Axe has spent time, effort, blood, sweat, and oil to learn the Sixteen Universal Laws. That the very eyes of the uninitiated might gaze upon the mysteries of the Cult Mechanicus without the same amount of effort, does that not sully those mysteries nearly beyond cleansing?”
Doll was clearly familiar with this argument as he relaxed and smiled. “I do not believe that it diminishes the achievements of any within the Mechanicus. The Mysteries are earned, yes, but the Warnings of the Universal Laws. If we do not share the Warnings, then are we not inviting them to remain unheeded? Are we negligent? Can a blind man recognize a warning sign? Can an infant recognize a danger it has never known? Nay! It is our sacred duty and privilege to share the Warnings of the Mechanicus. To ensure all children of the Omnissiah remain safe on the path to knowledge.”
Korr was pleased, “Of all the sentiments you’ve expressed, that one has been the most agreeable to me,” he admitted as he considered his next point. “However, it is hard to say what dogma is superior throughout the numerous factions of the Mechanicus. Only the Omnissiah knows all and comprehends all.”
Doll tilted his head and paused for a long moment. “That is true, but the Omnissiah can show favor to chosen individuals, and I believe I have been granted immense favor in these past few months.”
Korr’s eyes dilated, and he felt the pulse of his steel heart increase. He had hoped to avoid the topic of blessings and favor for a little longer, but it seems his fellow Archmagos had other ideas. His fellow Archmagos had acquitted himself and defended his dogma, for all that Korr disagreed with it on principle, rather well. Korr considered that perhaps a continuance of their debate in a more private setting would pique Doll’s interest rather than this ceremonial theatre.
“Perhaps the Forum would like to learn just how blessed I have been?” Doll inquired, and Korr could see and feel the intense curiosity burning within the Forum.
Korr sighed and gestured for Doll to go ahead as he made his way back towards his throne. “Proceed.”
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POV: Archmagos Akellonon Doll
Doll nodded respectfully to Korr as his opponent stepped back. The Fabricator Locum was like a shark. The moment he had sensed weakness in an argument, he had pounced ruthlessly. Doll recognized that this debate was not all as it seemed; only part of it was truly defending his dogma. Korr was also testing him personally.
“The true start of my blessed fortune was – ironically – my exile from the Lathes. Had I never joined the Argent Drake, I would not have discovered such a vast amount of data, holy relics, and wonders to share with this august Forum. That was the pivotal point of my life, my assignment to the Argent Drake, which was hiding a wonder that only recent turbulent events uncovered, and even then, it did not make itself known for some time.” Doll moved to the center of the stage and faced both the High Council and the Fabricator General in full.
“The Perennial Flora STC fragment. Many of you are likely curious where it was found. It was found on a little backwater Imperial world called Ur-Haven. For those of you familiar with voidships, yes, it is the same planet that produces the Isolde-pattern Bulk Clipper. The planet had become the target of a Heretek, the master of the Sundered Forge himself, Eligael.” From the crowd came a slew of binaric curses and hisses. “Ahead of his fleet, he had sent Xenos, traitors, and most worryingly, even a horrifying and dangerous Abominable Intelligence-” One of the Forge World liaisons gasped sharply, and hundreds of people made the sign of the cog at the mention of the abomination. “-sent to weaken the planet for his arrival. We arrived in the system during the early stages of an incited rebellion by his personal agent – a shapeshifting witch masquerading as a member of the Imperial Inquisition. Our presence was not accounted for in their plans, and thus, we intervened and moved to successfully crush the rebellion, fought off the Xenos, and saved the planet from the abomination. In doing so, we foiled their foul plans, but something was amiss,” he paused for dramatic effect.
“Why was his focus on lowly Ur-Haven, you ask? It turned out Ur-Haven had a forgotten secret, an ancient facility from the Age of Technology buried deep under the surface of the planet.” Doll pulled up a picture of the crystalline Yggdrasil tree in all its glory.
“Project Yggdrasil. The culmination of a branch of research using Dark Age technology, and no less than forty-two STC fragments were utilized together, producing one unique seed every century. This wondrous seed is capable of birthing a titanic tree capable of terraforming an entire planet. This is what they sought to corrupt and twist to their own ends. Fortunately, their plans failed to come to fruition. Unfortunately, when it became clear their plans had failed, they destroyed the crystalline construct containing the astronomical amount of data required to design and build the seed, and such a thing might have been salvageable, even shattered as it was with portions corrupted, but in the fighting, one of the dormant seeds was activated.” Doll looked mournful. “Of the forty-two fragments and numerous seeds. We recovered just two seeds that remained viable and two-and-a-half of the composite STCs. One of which was the Perennial Flora STC fragment.”
He blinked and then snapped his fingers, “Ah, my apologies. Here is the basic data on the seed itself and what it does to a planet.” Doll included several videos of the tree growing in real time to subsume the central hive spire. He had a plethora of hard data on the growth of the Ur-Haven tree and was more than willing to share. He allowed the High Council a moment to access and process the various data packets within. Several stiffened, and then someone in the section behind them gasped. Korr tilted his head, his single eyebrow raising in surprise the longer he watched and read.
“Yes,” he spoke and turned to face the representative from Holy Mars, answering the question no doubt burning in the representative's head. “We intend to send one of these wondrous seeds to Holy Mars, where it can cleanse the scars left by the Schism and re-terraform the planet. Where the second remaining seed will go is undecided at this time. Please note that, due to a quirk of their inherent nature, these seeds are unable to be put into stasis and have an expiration date for their use.” He felt the need to highlight that minor but important detail as conversations broke out all across the Forum in whispers and over the Noosphere as the Form began speculating.
He continued, his voice growing louder with each syllable, “But that was just the start of the wonders the Omnissiah bestowed upon me! We have found numerous holy relics, such as this!” He pulled up a digital display of the Omnissian Rod, the Relic Bolter, and several other artifacts, displaying the images and data to the Forum. “We discovered additional STC fragments! Recovered relic voidships, each full of data, and one full of holy God Engines! Yet all of it, yes, I say all of it! Pales in comparison to the most wondrous relic of them all!” He yelled, spreading his arms wide.
Doll paused and turned to extend a hand towards the small, robed figure standing by the stairs. “My apprentice! Nicole Cavalerio.”
