Twist of luck

[Namespace] of the Rose

Magos Pinel caused a lot of... irrational emotions... in the higher echelons of Isohedron. Anger, contempt, curiosity, - a Magos that young was an anomaly and, as such, bound for some non-average reception.

Nepotism hires were a sure sign of the political system slowly slipping into decay, the Mars-Draupnir fracture growing deeper and the powers that be growing ever more desperate to claw a fraction of representation for themselves. With Draupnir's lineup being represented by Tiefebronn and his mangled duplicate, it called for someone with more... original... approach to counterbalance the replicaes talking over each other in garbled echoes. Rosella, the old beast, could counteract both of them on a sunny day, playing their differences all along the way - Biologist had this unique knack for understanding all living things under the Omnissiah's sight. Perhaps this is why she decided she could understand everything else. A pity. That just ensured that nobody was keen on seeing another Magos of her caliber calling the shots.

Instead, they thrusted Pinel into position after years of negotiations and plotting that were likely to have started before her birth. Cheery lobotomizer, Magos Pinel was logis-prophesied to become a brilliant specialist in something like a couple of ages. A gifted talent, coupled with young energy and unbound curiosity, Toros never denied that Pinel had all signs of a rising star. Deep inside, she was never dismissive of Pinel.

For deep inside, Archmagos Toros was scared.

Power corrupts the soul and burdens the mind. The second one ensured that Pinel was never to tap into her full potential, her Magos rank pulling her back. The first one, coupled with Magos data privileges, provided an everlasting temptation for the overly curious youth. Pinel would have been a jewel in the council, if she was given time to mature. Toros tried to fight this appointment, going as far as daring to write a carefully worded missive to Collegiate Extremis - it has been met with the same cold silence that she got used to ever since daring to call in Astartes during the Rosella incident. The silence told "You decided that you can afford independent judgement, it is your problem now, Archmagos. And if it spills over, you will not have the time for calling outsiders in, and we will have the justification against you and Draupnir as a whole."

Pinel was an albatross hung on her neck instead of being taught to fly. Toros tried guiding her. Secunda was not sure how well she managed, all things considered. Fortunately, Pinel had yet to enter the autumn of her soul, and the sun of the optimism in her mind - as irritating as it was - preserved the purity of her judgment. Partially, by distracting her with petty, almost harmless, little endeavours.

Like this new voice with its freshly demonstrated range. Secunda knew that spinto soprano. Half the cogdamn sector knew that spinto soprano and all of the troops sang along. It's just the loyal ones got shot for singing along too loudly. Secunda was moderately sure that she herself had an original vox-recording of "Star-Barghest Aria" in this very lab somewhere.

"Magos Pinel, last time I checked, Lady Leontyne Tebaldi was tucked safe in the melodium of Hollzenstein's flagship behind some layers of plasteel and respectable security protocols. How?", Secunda did not need to feign bemused respect as she raised her eyes from the megascope. Reimplanting the vocal cords? Securing the biosample for off-the-books partial replicae in-vitro? Just crafting a vox-synth, approximating a pitch by the ear? It was a stroke of brilliance either way. She could afford to admire Pinel, even as she was still afraid.

Still, she could not afford to lose a lot of time, so she returned her tiring biological eyes to the megascope while switching off the vox-catcher line. Sororitas was absolutely right. After all, the last time Adeptus Mechanicus and Adeptus Sororitas joined forces, Terra itself got con... liberated.

"Lady Kota, 'acquainted' is a nice way to put the fact that I owe you my life and my initial access levels. Assisting you with your hunt is the least I can do to repay you. Especially since you just so happen to hunt a void-travelling non-human beast warp-jumping around the halls of my cog-damned Cathedral and killing me.", Secunda zoomed in on the blood splatter. Something dark coiled where it shouldn't have. "Right now, we have a full third of the Isohedron council on the line. Notably, the most mellow, least dangerous third, the ones most likely to commiserate and trade knowledge instead of brushing us off or using us up. We'll get everything they know and move on. I hope that I'll get to finish with this analysis in the meanwhile. Pinel liked you, Stoll is puzzled by you. Feel free to join on in."

[Namespace] of the Rose

"Never have I dared to assume us to be friends, Magos Stoll.", Secunda twitched the corner of her mouth as she replaced the testing glass under the megascope. "I just underlined that I should not be strange to you, and, as such, 'stranger' is not an appropriate tag. After all, you yourself took some time to become something significantly different from Tiefebronn. In fact, I guess we can both agree that it would have been stranger if you weren't alike at your starting point. It is less important than your current one. You even have yourself a family now, from what I can hear."

That was a redirection, yet something that could buy her a second of time. She needed to calculate her next step in some rational manner that did not include trying to override atomic dead-triggers in the vicinity of Tiefenbronn's spirelab.

[Namespace] of the Rose

Secunda sighed with relief. Yes, her thoughts were slower, but there is little value won through bemoaning muzzle velocity as long as you hit the target. This one hit at least a couple of decades ago, ever since a particularly gruesome combat simulation revealed Tiefebronn's flaw.

His miniature militants fought to the bitter end on the simulated battlefield as they got crushed, stuck between Passivity maniples and November skitarii. He took pride in the heavy toll he managed to inflict before going down. At that moment, Tiefebronn - brilliant, bedazzling, ruthless, ambitious - Magos Tiefebronn exposed his flaw, fully formed through his illustrious career. He was a winner, first and foremost. That pushed Toros to question "What would that mind be like if less accustomed to blasting through every problem?".

The flawed clone presented her with a rare opportunity to have this answer at hand. Trying to beat everyone else in the race to the Throne would've been too risky - not enough resources, not enough adepta ties, not enough years of existence... Too weak to be a king, too smart to be a puppet. She guessed that Stoll would make the right choice here, growing more confident there when she did not see an incoming request.

Necromechanic could not be a king, so he strived for the next best thing, sitting as a kingmaker and toying with the unearthed aces up his dirty sleeve until he figures out who's the highest bidder. He sits there and ponders the old stories - stories she told him - about the nature of things, for he is in no rush. Of all people, he knows that immortality is a proper tech-prayer away, and of all people he knows that unlimited time comes with its costs. Such as being called names.

"Not sure about this whole 'stranger' thing, Magos Stoll. Not from you, of all people. I am no stranger than you, and definitely not among the strangest dead things coming alive in your experience, o esteemed archaemancer.", Secunda carefully accepted the bio-auspex, starting sampling blood over the lab and eyeing the bolt-casings around. "After all, even as you might debate that the ship is not the Themis original, you cannot really say that it is different enough to be completely new to you, practically speaking. Even if its light is yet to rekindle to the pyre of old, the shade is still the same."

On the side-note, Secunda was pretty sure that Stoll did not have a niece for Tiefenbronn never cared to sire a daughter for reasons political and biological. She was also pretty confident that if he did secure himself some progeny, he would prefer personally extracting skulls from them in case they decided to hang out with Stoll. It would appear that either times have changed or... She preferred not to delve on "or" here.

"Speaking of pyres, resurrections, and theology, it is my humble pleasure to formally introduce Sister Kota of the Sacred Rose, who, and I insist, just so happens to be the best thing that Omnissiah decided to introduce into my life so far. Sisterhood customs related to martyrdom and subsequent rebirth are among the ones tragically underestimated by the tech-clergy at large.", Toros rose to her feet, putting the sampler aside. "I skimmed the top layers of the concept a century ago, directly inspiring our strange lives, Magos Stoll. Still, I am sure, Sororitas could bring some more... unexpected... angles to the Ship of Themis conundrum."

Secunda wondered if the rusty terminal would try to bring up that old M36 memo, the spark at the start of the whole thing. She prayed to the Godhead that it would not. It would not be becoming to get murdered right after getting saved. Having caught herself biting her lip, she turned away from the terminal and into the nanoscope array.

She was able to clone herself in vitro from a spare rib and a gallon of blood. She should be able to figure out what the Trespasser has been, even if she had just a couple of spatters to work with.

[Namespace] of the Rose

"...and then, stories tell, an iron-hearted demon sought to restore the Themis ship on his own out of his bitter pride. He collected every broken part - down to the last circuit - and mechromancers slaved for decades to repair the old cursed glory of the ship without replacing a single angstrom of the original broken steel. They have succeeded, yet the Machine in its wisdom denied even this resurrected monstrosity access for it knew that the true Ship of Themis has long been lost to the inexorable flow of time. And we should all move on, doing our best with the altered carbon of imperfect copies, reminiscing the old glory as if through the mirror darkly.", Secunda let out a soft chuckle into the vox before leaning back in the chair. "You've exceeded my expectations, Stoll, as per usual. I had no hope that you'll have it in you to remember it, given that you were fresh out of the decanter clawing at residual bioauths, Tiefenbronn screaming about "unforeseen activation" and "emergency deletion". Oh, those were the times... Care to fill me in on what I have missed during my short vacation?"

[Namespace] of the Rose

"Incoming requests from non-Mechanicum personnel are to be expected." Secunda clicked through the terminal with a serene smile of a haze-junkie finally getting a fix. "In fact, you, of all people, might understand why a message flagged as coming from Mechanicum personnel should be considered as a priority one incident for any Adeptus servants."

Old commsec protocols coil down, slithering beneath the walls of fire, whisper-lines reaching to the tech that can listen. Old ghost signals stalk the dark wire-paths speaking of dangers long dead, speaking of lies long believed and, just sometimes, behind the veil of white noise, speaking her name. Toros never considered chasing shadows to be part of her accountabilities, yet it's been a hobby of hers some five decades ago. She specifically made sure to excise the results from her memory leaving herself a memo that some locked doors should not be opened.

Well, she never told herself not to listen to what happens on the other side. The venerable comm-terminal still served as a reminder of those grim times. Sometimes, it misbehaved. Sometimes, it heard a bit too much. It never malfunctioned and never betrayed her. In fact, she loved the old beast more than a lot of people around.

"Sister, would you be so kind as to give me that sampling tube? Yes, the one with bio-auspex. Green flashing grey gizmo.", Secunda stretched her hands as she engaged the rune re-enabling the lights in the laboratorium. "Courtesy of your marksmanship, we should have at least some genetic material of the suspect splashed around here and there. Courtesy of their marksmanship, we should have at least several bolt-shells stuck into something that is not me."

The list was curious, yet there was some clear prioritizing to get done. Holy Ordos were not to be ignored, but they were to be deprioritized for now. Lord-General could and should wait. Whoever Hawr is, she'll deal with them later.

The list of (inherently more important) servants of the Omnissiah was equally peculiar. Tiefenbronn, quickly reacting to political change, was to be expected. Passivity-SEA was expected as well - datasmith was best positioned to detect the triggered data-bomb making its waves through the noosphere, their friendship with the Inqusition being another thorn in the all-too sensitive back of Secunda.

ZRK-333?.. Electromancer should have been in her dojo, wooing her pet murder-angel, not at the comms. An aberration, of sorts.

Secunda sighed as she knelt to collect some blood from the ground. There was going to be a lot of talking. Still, just being reactive would put her nowhere. Power, as usual, was found somewhere you were not invited to come.

"Fire up the direct line to Stoll. Necromechanic has some debriefing to do."

[Namespace] of the Rose

"This is a lot of trust for the semi-decanted unrecognized replicae, November. One could say, a personal risk of yours in a precarious position. I recognize, appreciate, and fully intend to compensate for that.", Secunda tilted her head to the side, examining Marshal. She was used to Magi pretending to be complex; she rarely cared to remember how Skitarii loved pretending to be simple. November might have positioned herself to be insufferable, inflexible, and deliberately obscure, and yet she was the only force guarding her world in absentia.

"Starting now, of course.", Secunda returned her head to the terminal and frowned. "A missing piece in your puzzle. Displacer field, ZRK-333 craftsmanship, uniquely perverted, allowing for long-range jumps, visual ID on the suspect about fifteen minutes ago. They have their own points of ingress and egress, so your initial assumptions are already flawed. Flash in, score a surprise hit through two-field interference, take their time to prepare a crime scene, break a window to push you for a wild grox chase, detonate a plasma grenade to trigger a response, flash out before you even hit the scene. Still needs validating, but hits most of the same notes, just in the other order."

Granted, she had zero idea about what "two-field interference" was supposed to be. It wasn't an often scenario when two displacer fields were forced to operate in the same room - the relative abundance of those on Isohedron (pushing them from "stuff of legends" to "obscenely rare") was solely the consequence of ZRK-333 closely guarded expertise. The research on multi-field interaction in enclosed spaces was, for the most part, nonexistent. For the lesser part, at least one tech-adept fresh from the Explorator Ark swore on his life that some disgusting Xeno creatures managed to propel their inbred progeny through warp straight into the target as a crude weapon - the results being unpredictable and devastating. Although this may not be entirely accurate, it definitely dissuaded most magi from authorizing research in this direction. Electromancer was not "most magi", though. She might have needed to pay him a visit.

Still, she had unfinished business here. Gene-samples to secure for re-validation, bodies to burn, and at least one of her old weapon stashes to hit. The novelty and appeal of being the least dangerous thing in the room for the third time in the row was decaying faster than transuranic arquebuse slug mid-flight.

"And before we go validating, I feel like I would give this bloodbath a little more attention. Could we, pretty please, repower the laboratorium - or what's left of it?"

[Namespace] of the Rose

"But when I saw the acid splash boisterous, I was afraid; and beginning to lose my step through the valley, I cried, saying, Omnissiah, save me. And immediately the Machine spirit stretched forth his might, and displaced me forthwith, and said unto me, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?", Secunda recited her own old debriefing sermon with a sad chuckle, rubbing her shoulder. "Most were sure that I somehow calculated the displacer trajectory on the fly. After this report, there has been a split between those thinking me a liar, those thinking me lucky madcog, and those who entertained the thought of my report being the truth."

She slowly examined the implanted ident-chip through her skin, wincing her way through a disgustingly distracting bruise. She wouldn't hold this semi-consensual privilege allocation against November. After all, it's been a marker of trust - and, as Toros loved repeating, a little trust goes a long way. It just was Secunda's time to make a long way out of the little trust she had to operate with.

"Never cared to validate who assumed what. Always knew that you, of all people, would land among the believers at the end of the cycle, given the minefield to pass.", Magina shrugged, moving closer to the data terminal. "It matters little who you believe - or do not believe - me to be. It just matters that one annoying old lady gave you access to the classified report on how she made it through her own gauntlet and knew that you would figure it out when you'll have to push through yours."

[-1 Reassurance, if that doesn't lift her spirits, I don't know what will]

[Namespace] of the Rose

Secunda tilted her head for a second, processing new information and relishing in the sensation of bitter anger burning her throat. She almost missed this adrenaline rush of pure, crystalline hatred against the uncaring universe, that jet drive that propelled her in her station in the first place. That being said, she was curious enough to ingest all the new inputs, not leaning into the emotional channel.

Sister's official mission implied that whoever tried murdering her had a baffling habit of making enemies out of Adepta. It was not easy to become a target for both Sororitas and Mechanicus and survive in the long term, the thing that the greatest Lord Administratum learned first-hand.

Sister's personal search for "guidance" and "forgiveness" was... troubling, to say the least. It would inherently imply that she was being misguided and that she had done something to beg forgiveness for in the first place. Secunda made a mental note to check that deeper in a better time and place. That being said, November inadvertently vouched for Kora - neither recognition nor politeness of Skitarii were not something trivially won. At least Kora was a Sister, at least she was a veteran, at least she fought xeno-scum, and she performed at least to an admirable degree if November cared to remember it.

Speaking of recognition and politeness... The main differentiating factor between Skitarii Corps and the Tech Priesthood has always been the relationship with the unknown. Priesthood has always been a force attacking the unknown by slowly uncovering its true nature, sorting it between known, unknowable, and forbidden. Skitarii complemented them as a force defending against the unknown by swiftly turning it into some sort of molten slag.

And Secunda, right now, just happened to be a thing unknown by and unpredicted for the Marshal. Fortunately, November was a tad bit smarter than her brethren, asking questions before going for the guns. Which is why she made it to her rank in the first place.

Finally, as Secunda collected her wits, she made specific note that at least three things came into her sanctum uninvited within the last hour. Apparently, she was not as smart, secretive and well-defended as Prima believed herself to be. Moron. No wonder she's dead.

"Marshal, this biotrash, unfortunately, is a vital cog in the plan designed by Archmagos Toros, evidenced by the currently propagating message in the noosphere. And I assume that you at least acknowledge my rights to execute her will, otherwise, I am surprised at still alive after deploying an infocyte bomb.", Secunda politely spread her hands. Skitarii had some pride in own lethality, and leaning onto that was never exactly a wrong thing. "Acting as an executor of her will, I would love to report an attack on Archmagos Toros assets, committed by a criminal wanted by Adepta Sororitas, who also happens to be a heretek and a personal affront to Omnissiah. We were just discussing exactly that with Sister Kota. Given that you are expected to be the force ensuring the security of Isohedron, we would love to forge out a cooperation in having this problem permanently solved."

Don't be an unknown factor. Fit yourself into some pre-determined shape in her robust operational parameters. Always paint her a clear target so that she won't herself try searching for things to murder away. Pray that you don't make it to the top of her list before re-securing the throne.

[Namespace] of the Rose

"Lady Kora, this call means a world to me - quite literally. Cannot afford the Regency council to steal my position from under my freshly decanted nose, not after being that late in announcing the miraculous salvation of mine.", Secunda massaged her temples, slowly remembering the times when she wasn't immune to the concept of migraine. "Meanwhile, you have some time preparing the answer to some of the obvious questions of mine. Starting with... What exactly are you even doing here, Sister? Aside from saving my life, of course. Deploy."

Secunda did not bother to rise up from the bodies and puddles of blood. Marshall was a strange beast, almost too smart and too old for someone stemming from the Skitarii corps - she never quite figured out what he was, really, but he was most definitely not squeamish. Everyone with two neural pathways figured out that something went wrong, well beyond the reasonable parameters for maneuvering, so outright denying that would be an attempt transparently vain. Let them see the faceless bloody bits and the bolt-riddled machinery.

Let them see her unharmed against the backdrop of violence. Someone shot the devil and missed. Everyone should figure out what is going to come next for them.

The next for her, of course, would be quite simple and pragmatic. Find the culprit and make them vanish. Then find his immediate allies and make a grim example out of them, so that everyone's curiosity about what hell happened to the culprit spawns a wave of rumours slowly refining into some excessively grim legend she'll never confirm or deny.

As she was speaking to the Marshall, she grabbed the nearest dataslate and started jotting down notes for the Kora to see.

"Whoever killed my bodies:
a) Wanted to make a statement and/or steal my tech. Hence a bolter to capture the place and remove witnesses, not a bomb to level it down.
b) Assumed to be an enhanced human baseline. Xenos would not use a bolter. Astartes would kill both of us. Most other things wouldn't leave blood.
c) Had a displacer field jury-rigged for long-distance jumps. Surprisingly advanced level of tech-heresy to just save one life. Damnation in the long run from sheer exposure - guaranteed. Esteemed ZRK-333 would be furious to learn. Nobody goes to these lengths to save a disposable pawn, so that was no servitor or combat automata.

Current assumed profile:
Heretek Militant Majoris. Either on Hollzenstein's leash or with someone mad and ambitious enough to make a shot for my place.

Immediate next steps:
Trace the fragger down - his genes, his bolter casings, his armour."

[Namespace] of the Rose

A lot of the tech-clergy bragged about having no flesh weaknesses. Toros always pitied them as poor souls knew nothing of themselves, their weaknesses always uncovered by the others in ways cruel and dramatic. Fortunately, Toros had tallied up hers pretty well.

Thrumbofur. One of the frontier worlds on the coreward rim has been a natural habitat for a breed of rare, long-living, white-maned beasts. They just so happened to produce some of the gentlest, softest leather known to Toros, something interacting with her skin in a way so right that she had cautiously ordered several biochemical and psyonic investigations into why. After those ended inconclusively, she admitted that, apparently, she happens to be a being of refined tastes. Thrumbofur lines integrated into the most unassuming robes were her personal weakness and she never found a reason to hate herself over it. Especially since she left herself another thread-through robe to calm down after the stress of getting reborn.

It wasn't designed to calm down the level of stress that one experiences after getting trapped for days in decanter pod, watching herself die a couple more times and getting interrogated by a bolter-wielding nun. It did its best, though.

She shook her head, clearing up her thoughts. She bought herself some time and dignity, but that was in no way a safe place to be.

"Independent is an ugly word, Sister. Lady Hollzenstein is maybe the only one truly independent being in the whole Houndclaw and, Omnissiah be my witness, we could use less independence around here. Still, we all have to suffer her for another couple of decades, even going by the most optimistic divinations. I've always thought she was going to leave her mark in the Houndclaw history, never figured out that it would be such a dark one.", Secunda winced as she slowly paced around the laboratory, leaning above the dead bodies. "Here are Tertius and Quadrantis Toros, my third and fourth bodies, backup plans that never quite came into play. The very fact that I am awake means that my first body ceased its functions as well. Pity. A lot of good bionics are going to need some deep cleaning."

She kneeled on one knee against the decapitated Tertia, examining the blood splatters.
"We were reactivated after the data-djinnis registered that the first body suffered a termination of biological functions. Access recognition protocols went haywire - didn't recognize me as Archmagos, tried restoring Archmagos again, activated Tertia, didn't recognize her, activated Quadrantis, didn't recognize him, left us closed in the pods for a couple of days.", Secunda waved her hand unsuredly. "I've had some deep talks with myself using just blinking and gestures. Quadrantis even figured out some jokes. We almost agreed that Tertia should've been the one activated, the other two should've gone into stasis until I had my run in the third subject body. Yet, alas, I, Archmagos Toros, happen to survive in the second body. Subject "Secunda". Good, stable, if unambitious prototype. You can call me that, for the time being, Kora of the Sacred Rose."