Hell in Hive Primus

"A challenge I heartily accept. Much obliged." The Enginseer smiled as he trotted off down the hallway, stroking his beard which could finally be trimmed a little. He turned to Hypatia, bobbing behind him.


"Finally something I actually understand," Lambda said triumphantly in the Lingua Technis, facing Hypatia with a look approaching glee. He felt comfortable since his first time entering the office, the strange liquid that the Captain had given him seemed to have helped cool his nerves as well, to add to that, he'd be able to get his first shower in quite a while.


"It turns out that the Omnissiah favours us." Hypatia bobbed along aside her companion, her emotion cycles were presently dedicated to a mixture of happiness for Asteri and amusement of his handling of the Officers. She conveyed this by moving slightly up and down as she moved beside Asteri as well as increasing the pitch of her speech in Lingua Technis.


The melodic tones of his companion only increased Asteri's joy however he silently lamented that to the outside ear it would simply sound like a series of high-pitched clicks. It was a shame that few could interface with the Machines as he did, even among other members of the Mechanicus, he did not let this dampen him for too long, after all. Dampening would be left for the water that awaited him on the other side of the door. 


"It appears he favours us indeed, Hypatia. Can you make it known that this room is henceforth occupied? There'll be a little clean in it for you." Lambda spoke in Hexamathic Code, preferring to alternate between one of the lesser known Mechanicus Dialects as well as the Lingua Technis. Hexamathic afforded  a greater deal of privacy, as was necessary for an unorthodox member of the Mechanicus.


Lambda wandered into the bathroom, that appeared to be reasonably clean, for somewhere in the Underhive, a small cracked mirror resided in the corner which Lambda moved himself over to, removing the slightly torn hood of his Tech Priest robe, to reveal a rugged face marred with scars as well as a beard that had accumulated a fair bit of oil and general dirt. He picked up a jagged piece of metal that sufficed for a razor, then handed it to his mechadendrite, which began to remove the rather scraggly beard for him with expert precision. Whilst this was happening, Lambda began to think about what he'd do after this little stint with the Enforcers. He really had no idea. There wasn't much of a future for him in the Upper Hive, he doubted they'd even tolerate his presence. The main body could do with another Enginseer but Asteri's methods may lead to his repurposing as a Servitor. Was he constantly going to be on the run? Hiding from previous problems that happened on Opus Macharius all those years ago? He went to stroke his beard to discover it was no longer there, it had been replaced with bare flesh that required a clean. Reverting to Lingua Technis with consummate ease, Asteri began the Litany of Ignition with the shower, in order to get it to activate. "The soul of the Machine God surrounds thee. The power of the Machine God invests thee. The hate of the Machine God drives thee. The Machine God endows you with life. Live!" It sprang to life a mere second or so afterwards, with a well placed technical knock by the Enginseer. Lambda then began attempting to converse with it in Lingua Technis.


"Venerable Machine Spirit who brings forth the waters of life that cleanse my fleshy being, I ask that you consent to my presence near thy perfect form." Lambda respectfully bowed his head.


"01011001 01100101 01110011." Came the monotone response of the shower. Lambda was able to interpret this as a simple "Yes". Hot water began to flow out from the shower, Lambda disrobed and proceeded to begin scrubbing himself with some rather course soap, dirt, as well as oil sloughed off him, not to mention a fair bit of dead skin. It was all washed away and within roughly fifteen minutes, Lambda emerged quite clean for once. He also took the time to wash off some dirt from his robe, comb his hair and generally look a bit more presentable. He looked in the mirror again, smiling. The decrepit man who came in here would emerge looking decently respectful, if about seven years older than he actually was. Lambda shrugged. It was better than looking roughly twenty-five years older. He re-robed, proceeding to exit the room after drying himself, beckoning for Hypatia to come inside. She abided, floating in gently.


"I'm afraid you're going to have to power down for a second whilst I clean you, Hypatia." Lambda said, slightly concerned.


"Finally. I'll put in a good word with the Omnissiah for you." Hypatia replied cheerily.


Lambda then spent the next few minutes removing dirt from Hypatia before going through his usual modified version of the Litany of Ignition for her. Hypatia mumbled something in Lingua Technis before arising, much more presentable.


"You lazy bugger." Lambda chuckled as Hypatia levitated back into position in a sluggish manner.


"In the Omnissiah's name, follow Errexus' instructions and remove the metaphorical mechadendrite from your rear." Hypatia jested. Lambda laughed.


"Come on, we need to go and save another Machine Spirit from the clutches of poor maintenance," Lambda spoke in a mockingly serious voice.


"You sound just like Logus." Hypatia chuckled, they departed the bathroom in good spirits.


Lambda, now much less reserved as well as slightly more confident moved into the front room, turning to the Adept to whom he suddenly looked a lot more youthful. "If it's alright miss, I require a few parts to repair the printer, some scrap metal will do."  Lambda said as he moved over to prepare for work.
 
"Scrap metal is notoriously easy to get in the underhive.  There should be some in the storage compartment, ask the captain for access.  The bin marked as C12 has an array of scrap metal from discarded parts yet to be sent for recycling.  Some of them are quite old-- it's rare for parts down here to reach official recycling efforts-- but still, you should find something."


It was a pleasure to watch another expert at work-- someone whose work relied upon their mind, and was passionate about it to an equal extent-- or possibly greater-- as her own passion for maintaining the paperwork that kept the Imperium running.  And if it got her printer working properly, all the better.  She loved the old machine.  It was her first, and she had it most of her career.  In that regard, it was like her laspistol-- still unmodified from the official mars pattern mass production laspistol produced all across the galaxy, well cared for and thankfully rarely used, but these days, the scribe felt naked without it at her side.
 
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The gun was easy to disassemble, the stub rounds in a neat row - each with a proud Aquilia stamp emblazoned across the casing, and the cylinder of the revolver sitting between them like a squat keep amidst castle towers. The rest of the gun was laid out in parts across the table for quick cleaning, Larkin's efficient hands moving between every part of the weapon as he cared for it; the always muttered prayers of accuracy and true sight flowing from his lips as the parts came together quickly - cleaned in a few moments of the grime from their last firing a few days before. The cylinder of the stub revolver slipped into its place with a satisfying click and the Lieutenant slid the rounds back into place, sighting down the barrel of the weapon before standing and slotting it back inside its holster at his hip. He still had to get Canticle 4 of the Enforcer's hymn book, line six engraved on the weapon 'and may the bullets from His guns strike true' .


At the Captain's word, he slid his chair back with a soft scrape and made his way past the techpriest. "Shouldn't drink that" He murmured quietly, his nose crinkling at the scent of the cheap rotgut. The enforcer was a snob when it came to drink, and he knew it well. A small part of him pitied the cogboy, his augmetic fingers clicking as he flexed them unconsciously. The cogboy...he'd brought them some interesting information indeed. Larkin didn't trust him to the ends of the Earth, but he seemed genuine enough. 

When the captain stopped him in storage and asked him just what was on his mind, his response was typical. "I don't trust him, Boss. Not as far as I could throw him and with those metal bits I ain't sure how far that is." He leaned back against the wall, glancing at the door as his thoughts stopped up for a minute behind his tongue. "But if they have a heavy stubber like he says, that's some major firepower. People are going to die - I think its better if we were the ones killing some scumbags, than some scumbags using a weapon like that on each other...or if they get the drop on us or our brothers." 
 
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"Agreed." The Captain said, shifting his gaze back towards the door as he took another swig of booze, "Seems pretty suspicious to me, whose ever heard of the Mechanicus needing to pay bills?" The Captain began pacing back and forth, alternating between drinking and rambling. "Clearly something's wrong with the kid. Doesn't seem dangerous though, kid probably couldn't hurt a ratskin with both legs broken.... But we can't just ignore some ganger scum stockpiling heavy weaponry...... We have to do something about this........ Smells like a trap to me............" Seth abruptly stopped pacing and wheeled to face his subordinate, who was amusedly watching his boss' thought process.


"Think the kid's in on it?" Seth asked pointedly.
 
The Enginseer nodded politely towards the Adept.


"I'll head over as soon as I get the Machine Spirit's consent for the repairs I'm about to make." He frowned for a moment, moving to stroke his beard that was no longer there. He halted the mannerism awkwardly before putting his hands in a sort of 'At ease' position behind his back. "That may sound a bit odd but I need to ensure the Machine Spirit actually wants to be fixed. They can be fickle, you know? If you don't have the exact right amount of sacred unguents or try to bodge a few things together in order to ensure that the main problem can be sorted relatively quickly so you can begin working on the underlying problems, they tend not to well, for lack of a better word "Like" it." A genuine smile flashed upon Lambda's face as he began explaining the ins and outs of working to fix something, he stopped once he realised that the Adept would likely be bored with the details, coughing and turning back to the machine. "Sorry, I tend to ramble," Lambda spoke as he switched to Lingua Technis in order to interface with the machine spirit.


"Venerable Machine Spirit, I ask for you to allow me to fix thy ailing mechanical form so that you may better assist man in our endeavours," Lambda spoke with reverence, bowing slightly. Both he as well as Hypatia looked slightly concern, the small servo skull tilting herself to the side.


"01000101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010 00101110," the response came from grinding mechanical parts. Lambda froze in slight horror, Hypatia tilted her head to the floor, shaking herself slightly in sadness. The response from the machine was talked about in Mechanicus texts, it was a term from times long past that signified the Machine was in grave need of repair. Regardless of whether the printer desired this change or not, it would be necessary for it to continue to function. Lambda turned gingerly towards the Adept.


"The Machine Spirit of the printer is, for lack of a better word 'ill', quite seriously at that. I'll head to get the scrap metal immediately." Lambda stammered over his words quite urgently before jogging towards the Captain's office, almost tripping over his robe along the way. His Mechadendrite banged on the door for a few seconds before calling through. "Captain, apologies for the interruption but I need access to storage. The Printer is in dire of repair, its machine spirit is experiencing quite a few issues. I require a fair bit of scrap metal to sort it." Lambda spoke with his same awkward politeness but this time there was a hint of urgency, he muttered a few things in Lingua Technis to Hypatia, asking her to go and make sure the machine was still functional. She nodded, proceeding to obediently float off into the room where the Adept was situated, hovering nearby the printer, clicking furiously in Lingua Technis towards it.
 
Captain Seth McCarsis nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden banging on the door, his Laspistol practically materializing in his hand, Larkin elected not to question the fact that the Captain wasn't wearing his holster. After several tense seconds the wide-eyed enforcer officer decided the tech-priest's knocking probably wasn't an ambush and lowered the sidearm, setting it and the bottle of booze on a shelf before walking over to the door. He muttered a curse and took a deep breath before he opened it, stepping aside to admit the tech-priest. "Scavenged metal's over there." He said pointing at a cluster of storage bins filled with, relatively, rust-free scraps of metal sitting in one corner. "Take whatever you need, we mostly use it for repairs and jury-rigging around here."
 
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The LT had been considering exactly what he was going to say to the captain, his mind running over every other time he'd even looked at a cogboy. The enginseers in the PDF had been mad, brave men with a hate for anything that damaged their holy machines. He'd even seen one standing atop a chimera, mechandendrites flailing to fix an issue with the machine's engine while the priest himself fired a pair of stolen autopistols into a rioting crowd. "The priest we have here is a nervous wreck. Most of them aren't like that - so he already sets me on edge. Too damn nervous, not enough plassteel in his soul." The big man spat, reaching up to tug his aquilia from under his flak vest. "I'll need to que-" the banging and subsequent fumbling for a weapon brought the words to a screeching halt, a snarl throwing itself across his face - there and gone quicker than a flash. The tunnel rat he'd become back in the PDF had flashed through his mind for a second, and he realised he had both his knife and revolver in hand. 

It was when the Captain stepped aside that an idea crept into his mind. As his superior started speaking, Larkin calmly stepped much closer to the door, waiting for the cogboy to come through. When the metal man had made his entrance, Larkin was very calm about raising the revolver in his hand and clicking the hammer back, the cold steel of the weapon marking a straight line to the back of Lambda's head. "Boss, cover the skull. I have a few advanced questions for our friend here. We gotta know before we do...anything."
 
Lambda nodded politely towards the Captain, urgently moving towards the storage at the back of the room. The Machine Spirit was in danger of ceasing to function within roughly four hours without emergency maintenance as well as a possible data scrub. There was also the possibility of some scrap code having infected it, which had caused several basic functions to undermine. Lambda's thought processes ceased as after a few steps, he was confronted with the man with the large augmentics that had brought him here in the first place. That in and of itself wouldn't bother him, it was the fact that the man who he'd heard identified as "Lieutenant" had a suitably large stub pistol in his hand pointed at Lambda's head. Immediately, the Enginseer froze up, biological responses infesting his previously clear mind like the scrap code that possibly infested the Machine Spirit in the other room. He'd been in situations like this before of course but at least then he had help and not as many potential opponents.
The Machine Spirit. Cogitator. Biological Cogitator. We're all just machines using different Cogitators...
Lambda's earlier conversation with Hypatia reminded him of the urgency of the situation at hand. Dedicating cycles to emotion was all well and good but sometimes those cycles had to be shut off, hard to do with a biological cogitator but possible. He began reciting classic Mechanicus theology. The Litany of Ignition. The Rite of Percussive Maintenance. These helped calm him in this situation. As he did so, he raised his hands. He couldn't help the poor thing if he was shot in the head after all. As the Lieutenant mentioned 'The Skull' a slight part of rage hit Lambda. Hypatia was more than a classic servo skull, she was a friend. A companion. One of the only people who had always stuck by him.
"Hypatia is more than just a skull, Lieutenant. She has been with me since I was a child on Opus Macharius and has a considerable amount of sentimental worth to me." The Enginseer's voice had moved from the cowardly, timirous chords that he had uttered since he got here, into more pronounced, cold tones.
"As for questions, please do hurry up. There is a Machine Spirit dying in the other room. I need to save it." The cold tone was once again replaced by one of involuntary urgency, whilst Lambda stared at the stubber in front of him with a look of slight defiance and little fear, completely focused on the task at hand. Saving the Machine Spirit.
 
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