Commisar Ciaphas Cain's Story

Much of the crates taken away were full of beacons of various length. Others more complex things difficult to fabricate such as missiles and bombs. A few huge poles the lifters carried away in triads the size of a single long chest. One a small tapered edifice holes akin to many kinds of the Imperium's wrath. Spooled power cables and other sections clad in gearwork and white psistone. Parts of a whole assembly. All serialized according to their contents the book contained within her trunk.

Sybil nodded pointing at Gaurdsmen moving the apparatus parts, "My forge is not the the whole of Mars but it is not small. I can supply you as I am able from Wing city with what I brought with me. Should you need Jinhai servitors for simple repairs then breach the white urns. They can assemble the ammo lathe."

A finger tap to the bound book within her trunk looked down at the eclectic mix considering her options. She pulled out a set of large poles inscribed like the many being unloaded. A square bundle of five rows of five it picked up by handles on its spine. Set on its side removed one of the poles by lifing rows. Offered it to the guardsman the beacon came to his shoulder.

Book removed with her other hand stood up with the offered white beacon only to her hips, "I have seen the many ailing machine spirits, however. Some of which I can hear cry out. My creations are more empathic in nature than the demanding machine spirits with Cogitors."

Book in hand gestured to an open spot large enough, "You shall be the first to call a new Salamander then. I would test these first myself. Pull the base to deploy the legs and unlock the top to turn at the split a half-rotation. Soft chimes and glow show it as armed."

An eyebrow rose eyed the guardsman remembering Nuria's chiding to force a smile, "Then back away and cover your ears. A manifestation this size will be reasonably loud."

"Of course..." The Guardsman officer replied with a ting of confusion as he voxed the request for a Salamander for the Mechanicus use before stepping back and covering his ears as instructed. Leave it to the Mechanicum...They were wise, and knew how to operate and repair these machines like nothing, but of course they were always a strange bunch.

However, with the deliveries being moved out and a salamander arriving at the landing pad. "Sir, the Salamander you requested." The driver reported with a salute before quickly moving away to return to his duties.

Sybil raised an eyebrow and leaned the beacon back looking at the salamander as it arrived. It wasn't quite what she'd asked for but they'd hardy seen anything new in ages. Such was to be expected.

A critical steel eye goes over the Salamander a cursory inspection of its parts. Track rollers slightly angled, seals sounding compressed, And a strange sag in its frame as if something landed on it at some point. Perhaps repeated attachment to something. A sturdy thing she nodded at it then the officer.

Calmly she choked up on the beacon with one hand to say with no furrow in her brow, "Not what I intended, officer, but of my later interest and due comparison. Observe."

Beacon in a firm gauntlet grip racked the legs down folding out a tripod from faint seams in its construction. Book moved to under one arm for a moment to twist the beacon's ladder of plates concealing a operating head. Spiral torsion removed the litany aligned along flexing metal plates. Each now rigid folded out pairs at a half split. Brass clockwork exposed whirs and clinks in time. Along in time to the noise sparking electric glow pours from within. As it met the pattern remained solid.

The beacon armed but not yet deployed left a distant bass thrum in the ear. A tune in concert to the litany she'd encoded for it. Pointing to it she took one foot forward and hurled it near an open spot where no other machines lay. Book opened to just the right page placed her gauntlet upon the page. In it inscribed a litany in high gothic. The beacon quietly righted itself just before landing with a clank of each footing.

Rather than the harsh notes of the tech-priest's voice Sybil's a deep and cold sea enunciated High Gothic by pounding tides, {We are the ones that send the first rays of light. We are the ones that show our enemies to the Emperor's eye. Send us protection unto the darkest fields, our Emperor. May we lay thine eyes upon the enemy even if our dying breath; that your armies soon ensure it ever be the dark's turn to die.}

As she called out the litany in the old tongue the ground rumbled as a way gate formed. Unable to transit existing mass they'd decided on a more energetic option. Debris orbiting and hurling away the breezes swelled from gravitic stress an orbit growing to fit a Salamader. Pebbles scatter rocks hurl growing until she reached the last line. Psychic anchor of an individual having served its purpose.

Several inches from the landing pad a blink of an eye loosed a thunderclap and light on nearby ears. One of her newly manufactured manifolds instantly materialized on the target area. With some safeguards in place it would simply move any humankind obstructing metal to inside the new vehicle. Dumped midair to closest floor.

By the Emperor...Did that just happen? After the tech priest began her prayer, she summoned some type of thing from a bright flash of light and a loud crash of noise. The officer took his hands off his ears before speaking. "Well...I will return to the troops. Emperors blessings." He stated as he decided to get a move on leaving the normal guardsman to assist if needed.


That was rather unexpected, but for now he was going to let the Machanicum do what the Mechanicum did. And that was just go to work and do what they did.

Sybil nodded at the man saying simply, "I will leave the book here. Guardsmen may use the beacons they unload anywhere on Terra. The Interitus will train while we wait. No one is to cross their circle unless prepared to meet the wracked within the First Machine."

Book of litanies returned to the chest left it open as guard would watch it well enough. The spectacle about to come more a function of the name laid upon her by aetherkind, the Iron Maiden. Little to do with her form than her purpose far from combat. A being of fair power like Nuria had other functions than the purity of construction. A destroyer and warden of names.

A short vox to the ship said curtly, 'It will be some time before they empty both holds. I do not think these guardsmen are quite the fit to test this craft. It appears the worthy need drawing out.'

A voice responded from the bridge obedient if only respectful. Absent rank they obeyed only that she provided the possiblity for them to rejoin service to the Emperor. Primarchs as well busy with the diplomatic avenue she could not yet seek audience on their behalf. All eager to prove themselves capable rose to gather bolters and weapons racked within the bridge. Their power weapons gleaming with new manufacture.

The calm voice of an Astartes came in reply, 'As it should be, Sybil. Then we will arrive shortly."

Sybil closed her eyes hair drifting behind her as the air swelled around an outstretched fist. Spear materialized from the air took chalk from the trunk. Two lines of five Interitus soon dodge moving loaders to walk down the ramp. Foot set on land only by her direct invitation. She calmly knelt near an open area drawing a sigil for the center of the circle. As with it the egress wide enough the first machine could reach through. A warden creating a prison for its impassive interest to fold from the black storm. A tesseract for the damned with mouths that could not scream.

Stood to her feet raised her spear to slam it haft first at the center of the ward and called, "First machine, by right as warden to the broken I permit humankind to enter and to leave. The broken denied corruption or sickness to otherwise fight as they ought. By entrant failure known shall humankind be ejected whole their conquered rejoined."

The first machine an impassive thing fueling the black storm honored her word. Gears sprout from the circle a gunmetal brass as if frosted earth. Spreading in geodes of errant gears and spars cables without aim flail until connected. As the base grew a dusty deep grey ink erupted from the sigil immersing her hand whirling in place. A candle flame that curled and evaded her arm. Turning brass gears and assemblies a momentary flotsam in the grey ink. Sybil removed her hand leaving her spear to point from its tip far above. Tapering grey flame smoothed about the spear as gate revealed inner space. A craggy undercroft of sandy brickwork and holes with trundling gears far too deep. Passages nearby appear as if a piston could pull back brick work. Far beyond dark starless skies instead lit by buildings rising to flare electric stars instead.

Emotionless machination would prevent harm to humankind should they fail to prove their mettle. The pocket dimension a small thing compared to its larger calculation. Though she thought it likely to make any grossly unfit known. The first machine did not appreciate... incompatibility with purposes of wrath. Evaluating new parts of the Living Emperor was something it took to with rapid priority. An impassive quantification worked to ensure worthy odds. While as asked of it would not permit death the pain of injury, however, something different entirely. Those parts of wrath unfit to continue by dismemberment or bleeding ejected whole before they could die. Swords or claws of demons stopped just before beheading. A faint numb line of blue ectoplasm would ring the neck as flesh reappeared.

The many Guardsman around the area were at hard work, however many would look at the odd spectacle of the machination that was inside the base. The Mechanicus seemed to summon the machine into the area and was doing something to it. This was beyond their area of expertise, they were simply moving sandbags and defensive materials around continuously fortifying the Imperium base further. So when it came to matters that was very technological, they decided to keep out of it.