Chapter 10 Part 5

Chapter 10: Tonight, we dine in hell

=ATBS=

Part 5

=ATBS=​

Victory Bay

Kronus

We ended up at the Martian facility where our tech-cultists were busy thinking inappropriate thoughts at the Necron Pylon. Steaming sanctified lubrication oil covered it from the tip to the wide foundation. There was enough incense in the air to make it hard to see. It was even harder to breathe without a respirator.

I narrowed my eyes at the now gleaming Pylon and prayed to Him on Holly Terra. This had to simply be proper sanctified oil I saw and not other Tech-Priest supplied fluids.

"That's a bit much." Anteas concluded. At least he had no trouble breathing – the benefits of Space Marine biology.

"How did you survive long enough to leave your homeworld, I'll never know." Our Necron tagalong stated flatly.

"Legend has it that we had proper scientists back in the day." I felt compelled to explain. "We didn't need to pray and trice sanctify everything to avoid Chaos corruption."

"It's the Aeldari fault then." The Necron nodded wisely.

"When in doubt, it's a safe bet to blame them." Anteas agreed.

Honestly, it was a surprise we haven't tried to kill each other yet. Or that no one tried to ventilate our brains out of fear that we were Heretics. Then again, let's not tempt fate, I thought.

"Right now, the Eldar aren't our primary concern." I pointed out. Nevertheless, being right next to the Pylon might make the heretics and traitors' job a bit harder, so it was a win-win situation. A rare thing indeed. "Our plan to deal with the Chaos incursion is still viable, I hope?" I asked the Necron.

The Immortal nodded. "With you alive, Inquisitor, my Lord believes the Human forces on Kronus will uphold their part of the bargain. The operation will proceed as scheduled."

"That's good." I could really use some good news after the latest debacle. "With that settled, any suggestions on how we don't end killing each other if we survive the coming battle?" I might as well try a bit of positive thinking and see where it might get me.

Unsurprisingly, everyone in ear-shot stared at me as if I suddenly grew up a second head or some other mutated appendage.

"I know it might be hard to process, Inquisitor, but we might try not shooting at each other? That might be a good starting point?" The Necron stated in a tone that might have held the tiniest bit of exasperation.

"If it was only so easy…" I chuckled. The murder machines had a sense of humor, who knew?

"Why not?" The Immortal inquired.

Blistering streams of binary came from the resident Martians. They waved mechadendrites in agitation, and I'm sure it was a pure coincidence that they pointed a lot of sharp instruments our way.

"It's a very long story, and I'm sure that at least some parts of it make sense." I nodded at the towering Immortal and blithely turned my back to it. "Now, you, my Martian friends." I smiled at the Tech-Priests. "Please convince me that those rumors I heard were baseless speculation. It couldn't be true that many among your ranks refuse to study and figure out how to replicate the technological wonders our allies of convenience provided, right?"

This time, the angry beeping and whining were deafening. All kinds of weird weapons joined the various implements on display and the agitation I could see among the Martians was something else. That wasn't surprising. From what little I could gather lately, Magos Scipio-Ro-11 was among the competent and forward-thinking faction of the Martians. That, in turn, meant he had like-minded Tech-Priests attending the Pylon and other Necron-sourced toys.

Thus, this particular crowd was anything but happy at the very idea of someone or something infringing upon their newfound treasure trove. Wise or not, I kept on edging them.

"It couldn't be that some Tech-Priests are ready to destroy everything within this chamber and dismantle anyone who thought studying it was a good idea." By now, my smile was a thin, wintry thing that held no trace of amusement. "Because, if that was the case, I would be forced to discharge my duties as an Inquisitor, and it would be regrettable. It would be for the best if this… doctrinal dispute is resolved as an internal Mechanicus manner."

At this point, Scipio-Ro-11 raced into the chamber, whistling like a speeding train. I looked at the Magos, and whatever he saw on my face gave him pause.

"Is that right, Magos? Can I rely on you and your peers to resolve your doctrinal dispute by the end of the day? You know what we're about to face. We can't afford internal disruptions."

For the next few minutes, a never-ending chorus of Binary surrounded us. I stoically watched the exchange, wondering if I just made a terrible mistake.

Mechadendrites shook like branches picked up by a hurricane. The piercing beeping became physically painful, and with every passing moment, the Martians pulled out more and more weapons from under their robes. There were even a couple of Tarantula turrets that ran up one wall, before attaching themselves to the ceiling.

And just like that, the screaming match in Binary ceased, leaving behind just the familiar rumble of machinery.

"Lord Inquisitor Veil, you're making a good point." Scipio-Ro-11 straightened up his robes with bionic fingers. "We will have words with our more conservative compatriots."

"I'm glad to hear you say this, Magos. May the Omnissiah bless your efforts."

He studied me for a few moments before nodding and turning around.

"Follow me, brethren! In the name of the Omnissiah!" He declared aloud and followed in Binary.

All but a handful of Martians left brandishing all kinds of weaponry. The Tarantula turrets detached themselves from the ceiling, spun in the air to land on their stubby feet, and followed suit.

"Inquisitor, I hope you know what you're doing," Anteas whispered behind my back.

"Me too," I muttered back.

A loud clang echoed above me. I turned around and saw the priceless sight of a face-palming Necron Immortal.

"How in the name of the Silent King did your kind became the dominant species of this era?!"

"By the grace and sacrifice of people much better than any of us," I answered honestly. "And by the sacrifice of the God-Emperor himself."

I saw Anteas nod in approval, while the Necron muttered something in an unfamiliar language.

"Enough of this. Let's go see what new disaster we might yet prevent."

We just managed to leave the building when the Immortal froze for a moment.

"There is a single Aeldari Grav Tank heading our way. It's carrying one of their Rangers on top… and he is holding a white flag?" The Necron looked down at me. "Our drones just picked a transmission in the clear from the Aeldari. They want to talk."

"It's a trap. Has to be." Anteas decided.

"We concur." The Immortal agreed.

"Fucking Eldar!"