Steel & Oil: Warhammer 32K

It surprised Lin that the Nova Cannon hadn't destroyed the ork teleportation device along with everything else, but he wasn't worried this might be some kind of trap.

He approached the teleportation device again and found the daemon clinging to it was already at its last gasp.

When Lin touched the device, the daemon didn't even have the strength left to scream before it crumbled to ash. The corrupted device quickly shed the twisted flesh warping its surface, returning to the crude, rugged look it had worn when the orks first built it.

That was an unexpected bonus.

The daemon had thrown everything it had into surviving the Nova Cannon's bombardment behind cover, but all that effort hadn't saved its life — it had only handed Lin a windfall.

Lin hadn't decided how to make use of the device yet, but he certainly wasn't going to leave it behind for Mars. He had it hauled away along with everything else, and with that, the battle for Magma City was truly over.

Things had spiraled far beyond what Lin had originally expected, but in the end he still came away with a haul worth every bit of the trouble.

The Akashic Reader was the greatest prize of the whole battle.

Much as the Four Chaos Gods could, in theory, glimpse anything happening in the material universe through its reflection in the Warp, this precious relic from a thousand years past offered mortals a chance to stand shoulder to shoulder with gods.

But having witnessed the vision himself, Lin knew the relic's flaw: it required a Psychic to use the Reader to dive into the Warp and fish out knowledge — and Psykers themselves were far from reliable.

"Psykers, huh…" Lin frowned, troubled.

When it came to Warhammer, the Warp's supernatural chaos was baked into everything, and Psykers — beings innately attuned to the Warp — were an unavoidable part of that.

To put the Akashic Reader and the Psi-Titan to practical use, he would need a reliable team of Psykers. Otherwise both treasures would remain just out of reach — prizes he could see but never truly grasp.

But how to recruit trustworthy Psychic talent was a real problem — he couldn't exactly expect everyone to be like Dorn, piloting an otherwise impossible Gundam through the sky with the help of a Psycho-Frame.

There were no Psykers on the grease-heads' turf that Lin could simply help himself to. This problem would have to wait.

He still had one last matter to settle on Mars — negotiations with the Fabricator General.

The chaotic din of battle had drowned out Skarbrand's barking, so the Imperial Fists hadn't caught Dorn's name clearly. Both Thorne and Koorland were curious who had been piloting that Gundam, but Lin had brushed the question aside.

After the fighting ended, Dorn had flown the Gundam back to the Shanzheng and gone into hiding once more. With the Shanzheng's machine-spirit assisting him, it was practically impossible for anyone else aboard the great ship to discover his presence.

Lin still meant to confirm things with Dorn in person, but after watching Sadistic Terror all but roll up its sleeves to jump into the fight at Magma City, he was starting to understand exactly why Dorn couldn't afford to reveal himself.

News of the Shanzheng's Nova Cannon striking Mars's surface had thrown the grease-heads into an uproar.

Fortunately, the combat footage Lin had gathered of them fighting daemons served as proof that the Astra Militarum and the Ultimate Wall had forced their way to Mars specifically to fight Chaos.

Given the urgency of the military crisis, the Martians had to 'understand' a few slightly excessive methods. They were even expected to turn around and 'thank' Lin and his people for saving Mars.

"Just as the Olympia Accord stipulates, the Imperium has the right to station troops on Forge Worlds in times of war."

Back in the day, Horus's bargaining chip for turning Mars against the Imperium had been the abolition of the Imperium's right to station troops on Forge Worlds. The grease-heads who'd stayed on Mars rather than join Horus's rebellion could only glare helplessly now as Hays brought that same clause back to the negotiating table.

Mars, freshly swept by the Plague Scrapcode, hadn't yet restored its production capacity. Since Lin and his people showed no intention of pushing their advantage further, the Martians grudgingly swallowed it.

By unspoken mutual agreement, the earlier attacks on the Shanzheng and the Solar Fleet were officially classified as 'the work of evil, outside forces from the Warp.' Mars itself, it was agreed, had never harbored any hostile intent toward the Imperium and remained its close, trusted partner.

This consensus gave the Ultimate Wall and Mars a foundation for negotiation. Once both sides sat down at the table, Mars wasted no time raising the question it cared about most.

"Now that the crisis is over, shouldn't you be withdrawing your forces?"

Hays turned to look at Lin, who had just returned from Magma City. Lin waved a hand, indicating that the Magos in front of him wasn't qualified to discuss the matter.

"I'll only negotiate with someone who can actually speak for Mars."

Fabricator General Kubik had already been cast into the cold by the Forge Council. Every effort he'd made to salvage Mars — and his own power — had been settled up after his total, unmitigated failure.

The only reason he still held the title of Fabricator General was that the Magos hadn't yet finished sorting out how to divide the spoils among themselves. Once they wrapped up their current business, they'd join forces and kick him off the position.

But that moment hadn't come yet.

When Lin made it clear he would only negotiate with the Fabricator General, the Magos — who hadn't yet agreed on who the next Fabricator General would be — found they had no choice but to send Kubik out to the table.

Not that it made any real difference. The Magos arranged Skitarii to 'escort' Kubik to the negotiations, and the Forge Council had already strictly defined the boundaries of what interests could even be discussed.

Kubik sat coldly in his seat, watching the Magos below argue endlessly over these matters. He kept the title of Fabricator General now in name only — in truth, he was a puppet with no agency whatsoever.

"These are the topics likely to come up in the negotiations, Fabricator General. Please review them."

Kubik swept his gaze over the thousands of clauses the Forge Council had compiled.

The Magos had accounted for every conceivable aspect of Mars — except for the position of the man who actually had to sit across the table.

The Magos who'd handed him the documents still used honorifics, but there was no trace of respect left in his tone.

"You must record these clauses and respond to them with standardized logic in accordance with the negotiation protocol. Any unauthorized communication is forbidden by the Forge Council — please keep that in mind."

"Of course I understand."

However bitter it was, Kubik had to accept his own defeat. He rose to his feet. "Take me there."

High Commander Hays of the Astra Militarum, Ultimate Wall commander Koorland, and the Magos Lin were all waiting for him at the Astra Militarum encampment, where they would render final judgment on everything Mars had done since the attack on Lin.

A negotiating party made up of several Priests and a company of Skitarii set out alongside Kubik.

Calling them an escort was generous — they were closer to watchdogs. The negotiating party's job was to make sure Kubik negotiated exactly as the Magos wished, in case the Fabricator General still had ideas of his own.

The journey started uneventfully, without incident. But halfway there, the Priest on watch spotted an odd glint of light on a distant dune.

The moment he identified it as the glint off a sniper scope, a specialized round punched through his skull, splattering brain matter and machine oil across the ground.

His death triggered the alarm for the entire party.

"Contact!"

Word of the ambush was sent to the Forge Council at once, while the Priests in the party began directing what Skitarii they had to meet the threat.

Freed of the Plague Scrapcode's interference, the Skitarii had regained their usual combat effectiveness. But when they engaged the enemy, they found to their shock that their standard command matrix still failed to function against this foe.

After a few moments of exchange, they finally realized exactly what they were up against.

"It's a Vindicare Assassin!"

Cold gunfire from every direction tolled the doom of the escort party. For Skitarii who depended so heavily on Tech-Priest-issued commands, a Vindicare master of sniping and assassination was their worst nightmare.

Every crack of the rifle meant another Priest falling dead. Even raising ion shields did nothing against shots fired from such impossible angles.

At first, the Skitarii could track the shots back to their source and return fire, but as more and more Priests fell, their command network could no longer calculate where the gunfire was coming from.

"Where are they?!"

"They're everywhere! How long have they been setting this assassination up?"

No one knew the answer. Panic spread through the Skitarii ranks. Even with Mars reporting that reinforcements were on their way, the Skitarii — blind without their command structure — couldn't hold out for even the short time it would take reinforcements to arrive.

Fortunately, Mars provided a wave of long-range fire support, and artillery pounding the dunes brought a brief lull in the Vindicare's sniping.

Just as the escort party thought they could breathe a moment, they saw an assassin suddenly appear, charging straight at them out in the open.

Had the assassin realized the covert kill had failed and decided to go all in on one final gamble?

The Skitarii concentrated their fire on the assassin, but she dodged every shot with an agility that seemed to defy human limits. The few rounds that did land only seemed to inflame her savagery further, driving her charge on even faster.

At last, one Priest who knew what he was looking at recognized her.

"An Eversor Assassin!!!"

Their shrieks of terror did nothing to change the outcome. Built for slaughter, the Eversor advanced through the hail of gunfire without slowing, her purpose clear and direct.

The Fabricator General had to die.

No countermeasure could stop the Eversor Assassin from cutting straight through the Skitarii ranks. Forbidden combat stimms gave her speed briefly surpassing even an Astartes; a single flash of her Power Sword and an entire squad of Skitarii lost their heads.

"Stop her!"

The Priests shouted the order, but not one of them dared step forward.

Everyone knew an Eversor's death triggered a massive explosion of superheated acid hot enough to melt through ordinary adamantium. Even if someone rushed in and killed her, whoever stopped her wouldn't survive the aftermath.

A month's worth of knowledge on Mars wasn't worth dying for.

The Priests' hesitation gave the Eversor her best opening. In a few blurring strides she reached the vehicle carrying the Fabricator General, ripped its door plating off with brute force, and came face to face with Kubik.

"In the name of Drakan Vangorich, Kubik — your death will stand as a warning to every High Lord!"

The Eversor Assassin snarled out the Fabricator General's sentence.

Kubik, who had once dreaded assassination by the Officio Assassinorum more than anything, simply watched the Eversor calmly. He still had the strength to resist — he just had no will left to use it.

He had died the moment he failed. Whether it was the Magos or the Officio Assassinorum who carried out the execution made no difference to him.

The Eversor raised the melta bomb in her hand, ready to take her final bow in one magnificent explosion. But before the melta could detonate, another grenade landed at the assassin's feet.

There was no blast, no flash — but the Eversor's movements suddenly, eerily slowed after the grenade went off, and the melta bomb, its pin already pulled, froze at the very edge of detonation.

"A stasis grenade?" Kubik recognized this equipment at once — only a handful of Forge Worlds could produce it. "But this one wasn't made by a Forge World."

"If it works, I figure I might as well use it."

Occam answered as he stepped out of the shadows, eyeing Kubik with interest. "How does it feel to get your life handed back to you, Fabricator General?"

Kubik didn't answer, but Occam didn't seem to mind. He signaled the Thousand Sons Sorcerer beside him into action, and Koda carefully used his Psychic power to lift the melta bomb out of the stasis field.

Seeing the assassin's threat neutralized, the Priests' taut nerves finally relaxed.

"Astartes? Has the Ultimate Wall sent reinforcements ahead of everyone else?"

They clustered together, trying to make sense of the situation. But Koda, still holding the extracted melta bomb, raised his hand and hurled it straight into the gathered crowd.

The Priests and Skitarii stared in horror, too slow to dodge.

"BOOM!"

The melta's explosion swallowed what little remained of the escort party.

"Wait, we're not the enemy, we came to negotiate!"

The Priests tried to explain who they were, but Malik and Efron cut their heads off without mercy.

"That's right — which is why we're clearing away every obstacle before the negotiations begin."

Between the Officio Assassinorum's attack and the Astartes' 'betrayal,' the escort party finally broke. Occam and the others simply finished off the last of their resistance with a few rounds of bolt rounds.

Watching them, some flicker of life finally returned to Kubik's expression.

"You're the Astartes who pulled Lin out of Magma City. There's no way you're from the Ultimate Wall. Who are you, really?"

"Who we are doesn't matter. What matters is how you choose to show your attitude from here on. If your answer satisfies my employer, you'll still be the King of Mars."

Kubik felt something seize inside him. The words struck straight at the deepest logic-core of his pain, and machine oil that had long since gone still began pumping through him again.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Koda, use your Psychic power to knock this Eversor out — we'll have a use for her later. Malik, you're driving. We need to get back to Lin as fast as possible. As for you, Fabricator General, all you need to do is wait. We'll have plenty to discuss."

The Excommunicate warband commandeered the vehicle and drove the Fabricator General toward the Astra Militarum encampment. When Mars's reinforcements finally rushed to the scene, all they found was the bodies of the escort party.

By the time they realized Kubik's body was nowhere among the dead, Kubik had already reached the encampment and was face to face with Koorland, Hays, and Lin.

The situation seemed to have circled back to how it was when Lin and Kubik first arrived on Mars — except this time, Kubik was no longer the one looking down from on high.

Lin crossed his arms, studying the Fabricator General who seemed to have just grasped a lifeline.

"Long time no see, Lord Kubik. I hope the little opening ceremony before our reunion wasn't too thrilling for you."

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