The sirens blared. Wailing the doom of the city. They were as sudden as the evacuation. Of course none would have known the insidious ploy of the xeno to strike at the heart of hive-city Valerion. How the cultist of the great, hungry horde snuck into the reactors powering the city and overloaded their core. The reactors were reaching their critical phase and the enginseer of the reactors did what they could. Alas their efforts could only starve off the inevitable for so long.

---

=]No man that died in the Emperor's service died in vain[=

The speakers played for a short moment before continuing with it warning siren. The entire hive-city itself shook. Rubbling in it’s final death stirs. Here in this artificial cavern atop the sprawling monstrosity of city was the Valerion train station. Here the mighty engines of the Hypecia were maintained, refueled and loaded with cargo to ferry from one city to another. The engines themselves are enormous beast of burden. They tower almost 10 times taller than a fully grown adult. As tall as a hab-block apartment building. Powered by their own fusion reactors. One one of these engines were ready for use. The mighty Indomitable Spirit. One of the oldest engines in used. She had proved her worth to the Adeptus Munitorum time and time again. Now she would perform her final service.

Cardinal Ymmaldez and Canonness Orine found themselves among the crowd that now boards the engine. Outside on the engine’s outer rails, a formation of PDF soldiers returned las-fire to a number of genestealer cultist trying to break their way to the station. Sister Orine fired her bolter pistol at the direction while she followed the cardinal. Soon both of them made it to the engine himself, the cardinal boarding first before she did. Countless more boarded the train and Father Ymmaldez found himself helping whoever he could aboard.

“Blasted heretics!” Sister Orine yelled. They cultist kept pouring from the maintenance tunnels. Hurling themselves relentlessly at the escaping mob. “Clementine. Make your way to the front and see if the tech-priest need any help.” Ymmaldez told her. Orine nodded and made her way. The Indomitable Spirit have two locomotives, one in the front and the other in the back. Between them are 10 freight cars. Orine and Ymmaldez managed to board on the rear locomotive. Orine pushed herself through the desperate wall of people seeking salvation. Most would usually give her way but in this hour of desperation she was ignored. It took a few minutes to reach the front. There she found the enginseer in charge of the engine. “Priest of Mars. Hail.” She greeted. “What needs to be done?” She asked. Offering any assistance she could.

---

The cultist grew in number with each passing minute. Setting themselves in a fortified position and hiding behind any cover they could find. The PDF picked them off fairly easily enough. They train granted them a high vantage point to pick their targets and finish them off piecemeal. However more and more came. Then a few of them began to set up.

One of the PDF soldiers was wise enough to notice what they assembling behind their covered position. “Lascannon!” He yelled out. Before any of his comrades could ask where it was, they were vaporized. A large red beam had hit the side of the third cargo car. The car inself was undamaged by the scent of burnt blood and the crimson smear was all that was left of the soldiers standing there as well as a few civilians unlucky enough to be caught by the blast. Every soldier began to fire at the lascannon. Desperately trying to kill its crew while cultist in charge of the cannon fired back.

SSSSSS

The hissing of coolant pipes rushed around her. She had recently boarded the Indomitable Spirit, and she hoped it was because of her master and mentor. She thought she'd see him on the train but to no avail. Now, she was on the train, in the reactor room. She was assisting in the motorization and maintenance of the train's heart. She could feel the thumbing energy reverberate through the the room, even if it was contained in the core of the train.
'Dirka! Check the coolant nodes on deck two!'
The tech next to her woke from her thoughts with the blurt of code, with the cold glare of optics. She quickly nodded and jogged out of the room, climbing up the armored shaft onto the first deck. She quickly got around servitors and soldiers finishing their preparations. When she got to the ladder leading to the mid-level of the train, it was currently occupied. "Scrin! Why must I deal with this inefficiency?" She drove the thought that activated one of her augmentations, and four insectoid legs appeared from her back. They seemed to grow as they were deployed, but in reality, they were simply nanobots slightly changing their structure so the legs could preform their purpose. She rose the height of her torso and the legs clamped onto the wall with magnets. She quickly climbed upwards to the second deck and promptly sheathed her appendages.
When she got to the coolant node, she noticed a small leak. At this rate we'll never get more than a mile outside the blast... She quickly sealed the leak by placing a plate and soldering the metal together. She then turned to the maintenance panel and quickly re-established the fluid duct's pressure. "There! Issue one dealt with!" she said cheerfully in lower imperial-gothic. It was a bad habit of hers, and her adept had scolded her on several occasions for her blatant disregard of more efficient communication and behavior. It made her slightly hypocritical, but she couldn't get rid of it. And she preferred genetic modification over mechanical, never allowing more than what has been done to her body already. She could survive in harsh temperatures, jarring impacts and lift something twice her size. What else could she need?
Her mentor though, did not share such an idea. Thus her extra appendages and robotic eyes. He did allow her to change and edit them to her liking though, which she took full advantage of, making them as organic and flowing with her form as possible. The pack was not over-cumbersome and stayed between her shoulder blades, and the eyes she made actual eyes instead of something one would mistake for goggles.
'Dirka! What, by the machine God's name, are you doing!? Get down here now!'
She sighed. "I will not be held responsible if he ends up 'falling' off the train." she mused. She quickly ran down the corridor back to the main area, and saw the laz-cannon through one of the ports. By the Emperor! They really don't want us to leave! She saw the shot fire above her, and she heard screams of agony. She gritted her sharp teeth. If they were to leave, that thing needed to be taken out. She quickly jumped down into the area underneath her while activating her comm. 'Helius! They have a lazily cannon! If the PDF' don't take it out, I'm going to blow a fuse!' She quickly got back to the shaft and dropped down, caring not for her own safety. 'Well, that would do no good. Are you here yet?' She entered the room and grinned a toothy smile. "Right here, bolt-brain." They immediately got back to work, ignoring the sounds of battle above.

The battle raged, perhaps the last to be seen on this wretched hive. Sirens blared, shots rang and people screamed. Shrapnel flew like stars, blazing white before impact, then leaving a red trail. Kor -1/5 was situated near the front cargo car, among it's brethren. Dozens fell, Kor -1/5 was aware of all of this and none of it. Kor -1/5 was one with it's squad, the Omnissiah's will made manifest. Metal digits of metal hands moved like liquid across firing mechanisms. Glowing blue lenses shielded eyes forever peeled back to take in every detail and store it away for future research and reference. Even in the tumult of battle and facing down innumerable foes The Alpha unit of the squad maintained a constant mechanical processing of the whole scene. Algorithms processing kill counts, percentage chance of actions and target priority were received, processed and put into action all in the microseconds long space between each individual galvanic shot so that every single bullet was used optimally, as expected. It was beautiful to Kor -1/5, as battle was the only time endorphins were permitted to be released into a Skitarii's system.

Kor -1/5 and it's team's mission was to evacuate with as much data as possible and to evacuate imperial assets as a secondary objective, though the minutia of this was being revised and checked every second. Every shot was a choice between providing covering fire for a panicked family or to cut off cultist heavy weapons or to take down an enemy leader or to fall back themselves. To comprehend the carnage that was ensuing was a nigh maddening task that could only be achieved through years of experience and mental augmentation. Percentage, revision, execution, review, revision, percentage, revision, execution, review, revision, percentage, revision - Every microsecond scraped and crawled at a snails pace as more and more lives were lost. It was noticeable how every second spent in this effort was futile, each and every new incoming percentage and revision was lower and lower. Time was running out, and had Kor -1/5 not ascended past human emotion it might be experiencing a sense of dread with each passing moment.

The general retreat code was sent; Mission fulfilment was at hand. Kor was the first to the base of the ramp and did not look back, it was instead focused on trying to find an optimal path through the mob in front of it. Mission success odds were rising : Revision : - New data: Enemy Lascanon detected, threat level elevated - Mission success chance dropping to critical levels - Partial mission success chance still plausible -

The order had already been given to all but Kor -1/5 and Lho -188 to stay behind and try to disrupt the enemy fire, the first target being the lascanon team and any other follow-ups. Kor was aware of many successful discharges of Skitarii weapons through clipped but satisfied machine cant transmitted over communications. The crack of precise galvanic fire was not unanswered, however.

- Unit lost - Unit lost - Critical Unit lost -

The last in that string and been Lho -188, taken out by a stray blast weapon of some kind. Kor committed no processing power to the identification of the weapon since it had no room to evade through the crowd and no way to return fire. Kor focused on an optimal route, knocking aside a few more menial citizens in an attempt to complete the mission.

- Unit Lost - Critical Unit secured - Partial Mission success completed -

Kor had made it to the top of the ramp, Omnissiah be praised. Kor -1/5 knew it's life had no meaning, and was indifferent in that regard, but was moved to relative joy upon the fulfilment of it's objective. The unit moved further into the locomotive, as per protocol. Processing power of the Alpha of the squad was being absorbed by the external combat - Protection protocols switched from squad to vehicle - Secondary mission objective maintained: Ensure successful evacuation of Locomotive 'The Indomitable Spirit': Revising : Head to front of train -

Kor started to make it's way to the front of the locomotive designated 'The Indomitable Spirit' to revise orders once again upon arrival, keeping it's communications open to detect the developing situation

“There is no truth in flesh, only betrayal."
"There is no strength in flesh, only weakness."
"There is no constancy in flesh, only decay."
"There is no certainty in flesh but death."
— Credo Omnissiah

Shrapnel and las-fire filled the air, screams of the dying and pants of the weary
binding together in a beautiful symphony of death. Ciaphus’es sensory modules registered this, hooked into the Indomitable Spirit he could see every viewpoint that the locomotives various cameras could give. The cultists and gene-stealers alike were of such little importance however, and he soon divided his optical processing power to the various arcane and mechanical aspects to start up the train. Servitors rushed around the domed control room, meticulously coded and ordered for specific tasks. To the uninitiated it would seem as though every body acted on its own, but in fact only Ciaphus moved of free will, constructing and modifying organized lines of code and rite, structured and sent through the Omnissiahs will to hundreds of servitors around the train.

The whirring and hissing of the controls were automatically tuned out of his Auditory modules as he began to administer the sacred rites. His monotone, vox laden voice resonated about the chamber, heard only by the Bustling servitors and the machine spirit itself. praise be to him, the source of all knowledge, the supreme one of all. Once again give rise to this great locomotives Machinations once again, so that your humble servant my ferry your peoples to safety. Lend this machine spirit your perfect and awe inspiring power so that its Adamantine tracks and Hex-steel Armor can endure the many heresies and defilers that prostrates themselves before it. Praise the Omnissiah, praise be to the God in the Machine!” With a groan and a shudder, the various cogitators around the Indomitable spirit slowly glowed once more. Auto flak cannons awoke and poured fiery death upon the heretics gathered outside. Registered but unnoticed, the doors of the transport and passenger cars began to squeal and whine, sparks flew as the auto locking mechanisms began to to shut. It was clear that the train would soon make its way out of the doomed hive.

Anngreth stared at the corpse as her ragged band marched through yet another prefabricated steel tunnel in the underbelly. The body of the civilian had been savaged and shot far beyond reason. The man was on his back with his chest ripped open. His entrails and organs were sliced up in him, bullet holes riddled his body, and ugly bruises and dents marred his face. The brutality of the kill was something she expected to see on the battlefield not in a hive city, but she gave no sign to her men that she was deeply worried about their chances of survival. Still, she held up a hand to halt. They could spare little time, but every wretch, no matter how pitiful, deserved some peace if the living could afford it. She moved up to the body and closed the swollen eyelids over the terror stricken eyes. A bespectacled, minor functionary of the ecclesiarchy glanced furtively around, as if whatever did this might squeeze through the seems in the walls and attack, but relented and muttered a brief consecration of the man’s soul to the Emperor. For her part, she muttered her hopes that the Ancestors would guard the man in the afterlife. But as they continued past the corpse, it became clear there would not be enough time to afford peace to every body they passed.

Earlier, she had woken up not knowing that today would be the end of Valerion. She had been summoned from an ale induced sleep to lead men to quell a “riot” near Valerion’s reactor. The infiltration of the terrorists was too swift for anyone to understand. The few men she could pull up from the barracks were also wasted. Still, with a few grumbled curses and promises of patrol duty in the sewer district if they didn’t get their lazy asses up, she assembled fifteen men from the barracks and led them downwards. Then she lost five in an ambush. Undeterred, she continued deeper, unaware that the reactor had already been blown and she was wasting her time. Along the way, they found an engineering crew and some other hapless civies. Just when they reached the electric district, the order came through on her data pad in dreadfully simple terms: CITY REACTOR IS COMPROMISED. GENERAL RETREAT FROM VALERION ORDERED BY HIGH COMMAND. ALL UNITS REPORT TO LOCOMOTIVE DISTRICT AND BOARD INDOMITABLE SPIRIT. The smattering of shell shocked recruits didn’t object when she turned them around. She had hated the idea of retreat. It reeked of the past, of the failure of her regiment and the decline of her folk. But passing through the gore splattered prefab tunnels sobered her thoughts. There was only death in Valerion.

Her body began to steadily throb with a familiar pain as the sound of distant, muffled gunshots could suddenly be heard. The guns of her squad went up around her, but she held up a hand. Though they towered over her, all of them halted.

“Our first mission is to get the civilians onto the train”, she spoke authoritatively in an accent that sounded strange to them, but it had given her something of a mystic over the years(OOC Danish accent). They nodded mutely. A green recruit broke the silence:

“What can we expect, Lieutenant?”

“Fanatic slayers of men, private”, she answered immediately and confidently, slipping into her leader’s voice. “From what we’ve seen, they deserve no mercy. And they’ll get none from us. But if Valerion is going to fall from their cowardly sabotage, they’ll fall with it and be damned by the Emperor’s retribution.” At His name, they stiffened up as she expected. Everyone was intent on her. “But it won’t be worth a damn if all of us and these people go down with them. We retreat the city and the damned planet if it means doing our duty to the Emperor and sticking it to these loonies. Get the civilians on board the train as quickly as you can and fight only when necessary. The reactor will finish the job.” And with that, they moved forward with a new air of confidence. An aura of grim determination even came over the young apprentices of the engineers, who hefted their cheap, printed hand guns with intent. She hoped it would last them through the fight.

The sounds of chaos grew louder. They turned a corner, and then there it was. Where the door to the locomotive bay had been was jagged blast hole from which the battle could be seen through. Figures shot down at the immense, imperial train from the walkways high above it as a motley of Imperium men and women either shot back or ran. There was a split second of awe in the party, then they surged forward. She fluidly switched her plasma shotgun to slug fire as she lifted it and began firing. Her metal legs allowed her to fire and dash better than the others. They had almost made it when the fanatics seemed to finally register the new threat. A Lascannon barked and a hole was torn in their ranks. They barely faltered and kept on their mad dash; the train was their only safety. Two more of the bodies behind her went down by the time they got there. Throwing themselves through a hatch on the Train’s side, her group moaned as they found fleeting safety and stopped. But not her. She flew up a ladder and came to a window that offered a good angle on the lascannon. She yelled frantically as she fired into the cannon, heedless of her plasma shotgun’s rising heat and trusting the ancestors to keep it from exploding.

"Any and all hive-world resident are urged to make their way to level 30, locomotive station and board the Indomitable Spirit. This is not a drill." The speakers yelled amidst the sirens. A desperate plea of salvation for the hive-city's citizens. However fewer and fewer arrived. Shot down and stalled outside on the streets that lead to the station. Only a fortunate few managed to trickle in.

"Any and all..." The vox message was cut short. For a good minute or so, there was only the eerie sound static that flooded the battlefield. Sister Prime noticed and gave notice while she suppressed the cultist with her bolter pistol. After the silence, a voice that sounded barely human spoke on the vox. "Give up! We have you surrounded!" The voice yelled in a rabid growl. "You cannot escape! Surrender and you will live to fight another day."

Orine snarled. Heretics trying to sway the frightened faithful. "Canoness!" One of the PDF's yelled. She turned her attention towards him. "We have an hour before the reactors explode!" The soldier yelled out. "Also the governor's palace has collapsed! Level two and three are just minutes away from collapsing!" Orine nodded and headed inside the bridge of the engine. "Tech-priest!" She yelled out. Trying to find the engiseer in charge of the machine. Several servitors passed her as she made her way through the narrow and choked passages of the inner engine.

Soon enough she was met by two red optic sensors and a host of mechadendrite tentacles performing different task. Orine was just about to call his attention when she felt something move. A sudden vibration that shook the entire engine. Then the sound of the machine coming to life. Pistons, electrical wires and coolant pipes. The Indomitable Spirit was awake.

"Carry on tech-priest." Orine simply said as she made her way back up into the fight. They were just about ready to leave. Emperor knows it wasn't soon enough.

Dirka and Helius were not surprised by the sudden Spike in power requirements. The data spreading through noosepheres was quick and precise. Dirka had heard the intercom-ed threat, and she grinned cruelly. Such fools. To think they can make humanity yield? If the past 40 millennia have proved anything it's that mankind is like roaches; we refuse to die or leave. She immediately saw an alert for one of the automated guns. "Sheix! Helius, take over. I'm headed to the top deck." Helius immediately grabbed her wrist. "You go up there and they'll pop your head clean off!"
Dirka laughed at her coworker. "Ah~! You do care!" She said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. She ripped her arm from his grip, surprising him. "Either I go up there, or our chances of everyone on this train being turned to corpse-starch increases by 7.23%. Which would you prefer?" Before he could protest, she was out the reactor and maintenance shaft. She quickly ran through corridors and jumped up pipes and shafts to the top deck, where many PDF forces along with the spirit's natural defenses held out. She only had her head out of the hatch and a shot wized by her head. She cared not. She pulled out the pistol she grabbed earlier and got her legs out. She sped across the deck to a panel behind one of the flaks, to the left of a PDF laz cannon. She pried it off and went to work, ignoring the weird looks she got by those in cover.
When she finished she opened her comm with pride. "Flaks, working as if they were just made! Reporting back to maintenance." She looked on as more fire was sent towards the heretics. She grinned sadistically. Oh, how her blood was thrilled at the sight of pain being inflicted. One of the downsides of her mutations was a very predatory look on life and death, something so carnal and instinctual that it was pointless to resist. Only her Adept knew though, seeing it as a way to provoke the Inquisition and that wasn't not good for business.
She heard a hiss next to her and looked to see a battered warp-mutated cultist. He hissed angrily at her. "So your the one causing so much trouble? Maybe I should have at your mind to see what's inside?" He reached out only to have his hand pinned to the deck by one of her appendages, which were now very sharp. She pointed the bolt pistol to his head and blew a kiss. "I think not. Bye, and Shertox Berzai" His eyes widened upon hearing the phrase, right before his head bursted like a melon.
A few minutes later she was back in maintenance with gore on her right hand. Helius just looked at her incredulously. "So, are we not going to talk about this? Or are y-" She cut him off by pulling him close and kissing him. She then shoved him away and continued to work. His optics flared. "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO A MEMBER OF THE MACHINE CULT?!" She looked at him with a coy smirk. "I don't know what your talking about, bolt-brain. It's obvious my poor organic mind cannot comprehend it." Her voice dripped with venom and she giggled shortly after. "Besides, you seemed to enjoy it." Helius, flustered, crossed his arms. "I most certainly did not enjoy you putting your flesh on my face-plate!" He stammered.
"Liar."

The time to achieve the primary objective was running out, and all around knew it. As Kor -1/5 moved through the cramped corridors, pushing past weeping mothers and stepping over wounded men. The unit's cogitators recorded every minutia of detail, knowing it would be useful later should any of the civilians or military personnel request augmentation to repair their broken bodies.

A shift in the atmosphere happened, the background hum of the blessed engine rose to a roar. Civilians around started murmuring to themselves, some began to cry knowing that many would be left behind. Kor -1/5 and any nearby Mechanicus units began to chant the holy canticles in praise of the machine spirit and the machine god. Such was the might of the blessed engine and the heroic sacrifice of the tech-priests who stayed behind in the reactor to buy them all time that Kor -1/5 was briefly overwhelmed with emotion. The unit's heart swelled and it's cant was interrupted briefly before cogitator systems suppressed the emotions. The event was labelled as an error and added to maintenance logs, appearing under a blinking red rune on Kor's HUD and likely to be repaired the next time the unit was seen to by a magos.

The unit kept heading towards the main engine, as per it's directive.

A flash of pride filled the barely human brain of Ciaphus as the Indomitable Spirit hummed to life. “A satisfactory result” he said to no one, as his tentacles drove and swooped between the hundreds of different mechanisms. Unfortunately as was the fault of all machines spirits, none manufactured by Mechanicum hands could embody the true perfection of the machine god. Bringing defensive systems online along with the main nengine had increased the likelihood of the trains structural integrity remaining sound by 24.885%, but there were increasing damage reports and malfunction listings as some of the Flak cannons began to overheat or be destroyed by the overwhelming barrage of small arms fire.

Directing a servitor to buy him a few seconds of time, Ciaphus noted the emergency blast doors still marched steadily towards closing, and the train could only begin to move once they were locked. Quickly he diverted a small percentage of processing power and routed top priority mission changes to several Mechanicum units that were still running off old protocol systems. Analyzing his clearance and security requirements, the cogitators of the rogue Mechanicum aspects were brought into the central mainframe of the indomitable spirit and handed out tasks. Targeting one skitarii ranger that had lost its squad and become directionless, Ciaphus rapid fire sent top priority objectives to its central; processing unit.

Directive sent: search through all refugee personnel.
Directive sent: eliminate any with a suspicion rating of over 28.999 percent, utilizing inquisitorial edict 5 subcategory B, ‘chaos recognition scale’
Directive sent: catalogue any Mechanicum aspects that appear to be not following primary directives in defense or support of the Indomitable Spirit for later maintenance or elimination.
Directive sent: Your designation has been upgraded from ‘Skitarii Ranger’ to ‘Skitarii ranger Captain’ due to the loss of your former captain and no clear superior. Your clearance has been increased by .834%.
Directive Sent: after completion of earlier Directives, report to Artisan Adept Ciaphus for further instruction and possible maintenance/repairs depending on service/adequacy.

Security Clearance 836119240=valid

transmission complete, glory to the Omnissiah

All the local Skitarii snapped to attention as new data was received... Processing...

Directive received from Artisan Adept Ciaphus, the arch-unit in command of this vessel... Processing...

Directive sent: search through all refugee personnel.
Directive sent: eliminate any with a suspicion rating of over 28.999 percent, utilizing inquisitorial edict 5 subcategory B, ‘chaos recognition scale’
Directive sent: catalogue any Mechanicum aspects that appear to be not following primary directives in defense or support of the Indomitable Spirit for later maintenance or elimination.

Data unlocked itself in all surrounding units, data locked away and secreted deep in all rangers, knowledge of chaos and corruption kept hidden unless direly needed. The surrounding units snapped to obey, each uttering a short burst of machine-cant in confirmation. The next line of data was specific to Kor -1/5

Directive sent: Your designation has been upgraded from ‘Skitarii Ranger’ to ‘Skitarii ranger Captain’ due to the loss of your former captain and no clear superior. Your clearance has been increased by .834%.
Directive Sent: after completion of earlier Directives, report to Artisan Adept Ciaphus for further instruction and possible maintenance/repairs depending on service/adequacy.

...Processing...

Security Clearance 836119240=valid

...Processing...

Kor -1/5 snapped to attention, immediately sending orders and new data to the Skitarii units around. They all spoke in unison as they raced off to do their duties.

"Glory to the Omnissiah!"

The metal titan slowly creaked to life. Its gears and parts slowly creaking as it started to drag its own weight and the weight of the 10 wagons behind it. Sparks flew from the wheels as they ground against tracks. The Indomitable Spirit had awakened and soon it would be off from this doomed hive. A fresh wave of the traitor cultist pushed themselves into the station. What little resemblance of order broke down and people pushed themselves onto the train. Often crawling on top of one another in a frantic effort to board the train. Many of them would get crushed under the weight of one another.

In this mess Cardinal Ymmaldez found himself cramped and pushed from one place to another. Trying to find his way to the front of the train and away from the constant volley of las-fire and bullets. The cardinal yelled his stature but nobody seemed to mind. Not even the few arbites he passed gave him but a glance as they moved through. It was a different experience for the cardinal. The holy father was used to receiving attention and service with but a snap of his fingers. Now with this looming darkness over all of them, he was forced to make do as the commoners had.

Sister Clementine herself had taken commanding the PDF forces on the train. Aiming their weapons at the most grievous threats. The concentrated barrage of lasfire held the cultist at the doorway. Cutting down great swaths at the choke point. As the train began to move, a smile formed underneath her helm. “About time this damn thing started moving! Keep at that door!” She yelled at her vox. The soldiers happily obliged. Giving the xenos a taste of their own medicine. Still though their ranks seemed endless.

The train slowly picked up pace. Her massive form pushing out of the station itself. A great flock of people moved to chase her. Some fortunate enough to board her. A great many more left behind as the genestealer cultist managed to swarm themselves inside. As the Indomitable spirit exited the station, their greats pleas for help were replaced with blood-curdling screams and gunfire. Then there was silence. Suddenly the cardinal found himself the center of attention. The thousands of eyes on board the front-most wagon now looking at him. Father Ymmaldez knew they were all looking for an answer. It took him a good minute or so before he responded.

“We have been spared from destruction.” He spoke in a voice low. Full of anguish and grief. “Only through the valiant effort of our martyrs however. If we are to make it to salvation, we must act as selflessly as they have. The Emperor does not ask for much. Only that we remain loyal to one another. Humanity must rely on one another least we fall prey to the xenos. The Emperor protects.” This was hardly the time for a sermon but he did not have the words to comfort this people. All he had was a speech to harden their spirits for the long trip ahead.

In the front engine sister Orine took one of the servitors. “Gather all the techpriest to the engine bridge this instant. No excuses from the technophiles.” He told it in a stern and rigid tone. She wanted every member of the Mechanicus in front of her to measure the gravity of the situation they were in. She wanted to know how many people were on board, how much supplies they had, how many men at arms were ready to defend the engine and how long the trip to the other hive would take. Now she wasn’t guarding the Cardinal anymore. She was guarding an entire throng of refugees. She prayed to the Emperor in silent that she could handle just a Herculean task.

"Why is their a Scell on the train?"

Dirka loved using that term to describe sisters of battle. It defined them in such a negative light. In her opinion, it was spot on. And now she got to talk to one condinscendingly. It mass her toothy grin become apparent.
She and her mechanical companion had gotten a message via servitor, and after almost lossing it when it told her to move no excuses, they promptly left after checking everything was stable. Now they were almost to the bridge.
"So, are we not going to talk about it? Because I did remove my hormonal glands that make the feeling of 'love' possible." Dirka laughed, showing off the sharp teeth of her genetic alteration. "I wasn't going to talk about it, but you seem very much to want to. Did you enjoy it that much?~" As she said the last sentence she got uncomfortably close. The techpriest was visibly flustered, and his internal machines where going at a slightly faster and heated pace. He pushed her away with a mechadenddite, making her laugh. "Please refrain from doing that." Dirka was snickering madly. "well you may have removed some glands, but the mind always finds a way to mess with the heart.".
They entered the bridge in which contained some of their fellow cult mechanicus. Hopefully this would be over quickly. You never know when something happens.

All units were reporting 95% efficiency rating <within acceptable perpetrates>. There were no results as of yet, thank the Omnissiah, so Kor -1/5 calculated now was as good of a time as there would be to report to Artisan Adept Ciaphus. Kor's diagnostic protocols emitted a negative feedback as the unit realised it dedicated too much processing power to contemplating the flashing orange maintenance rune in it's HUD. Such a thing required no consideration, only action. Protocol dictated; report to the bridge

<Error in protocol. Processing...?>

Then why was the unit walking through the lower bays? Kor -1/5 took a moment to re-calculate the most efficient route through the vessel.

<Vessel blueprints requested; authorisation 836119240=valid; Received; Processing...>

No, this was not an optimal route.

<Processing............ *urk*......?.....>

A voice, perhaps not from the central processors and not from official channels, rose up.

(Optimal route, avoiding civil traffic, received?)

<Processing....? *urk*.... Received; Processing....>

There was a sudden lapse in processing. Suddenly this unit was on the bridge. Something was wrong, Kor -1/5 prayed to the Omnissiah no recorded data was lost in these few moments, but at least the directive was fulfilled. The maintenance rune flashed as bright as ever, Kor -1/5 gave it no thought

---

Kor -1/5 surveyed the scene. Most of the senior technical staff were gathered around, an un-optimal directive given by an un-optimal senior officer. At least that's what Kor's central processors said.

(She is holy, trust her.)

<Proccessing....?....>

The unit trusted this (Sister of Battle) <designation = Adepta Sororitas>. These were extenuating circumstances.

(Events like this demand deviation from protocol)

<Processing?....?......?......... Error..... ?...... Processing........... Accepted?>

Kor -1/5 stood at attention. <Protocol?> dictated this woman be followed before the Artisan Adept on duty. <?>

Something was definitely wrong. The maintenance rune flashed, almost demanding attention.

<Error>

(Error)

Something was very wrong.

<Report for immediate maintenance... Processing...>

(Processing... Events like this demand deviation from protocol...)

<Error... Logged... Processing... Accepted?>

Every line of code ran within a fraction of a second. From the exterior Kor -1/5 seemed totally unfazed. It (strained) to hear what was said.