Steel & Oil: Warhammer 32K

So the reason these grease-monkeys weren't responding was simply because they'd already made up their minds to leave?

Recalling the Greenskin rampage on Jingang, Hays found he wasn't particularly surprised — he knew the tech-priests well enough. Once he'd pieced the situation together, he cautiously edged the fleet forward, and the result was exactly what he might have expected: the tech-priests scattered like startled vermin.

From the outside, it probably looked as though he had driven the Mechanicus away and seized Jingang by force.

Hays rubbed his temples at the thought of the report he'd eventually have to deliver to the High Lords' Council. He hadn't the faintest idea how he was going to explain any of this.

But regardless, the gates to Forge World Cath Maximus now stood wide open. Since Admidel was certain the surviving Imperial Fists were on Cath Maximus, there was no reason to hang back.

The expedition fleet moved to approach the spaceport. The docking protocols failed to initialize as normal, and the orbital defense systems above Cath Maximus appeared to have gone completely dark. More importantly, as the fleet drew into low orbit, they got their first clear look at the surface of Forge World Cath Maximus.

Beneath a churning pall of ash-grey clouds, crossfire raged without end. The shockwaves from relentless explosions sent strange ripples spreading through the fractured atmosphere. In the planet's sole great hive city, the production lines that should have blanketed the ground had been reduced to cinders, leaving exposed stretches of scorched earth riddled with craters. The upper levels where the Forge Council should have resided were now nothing but a single enormous pit. The entire hive was burning, its smoke columns scratching ugly geometric lines across the sky.

Hays turned and looked at Admidel.

"What in the Throne's name happened here?"

Admidel shook his head honestly — this time he genuinely didn't know. Naturally, no one in the expedition fleet believed him. Deputy Aibo, the sharper analytical mind among them, drew on what they'd already seen of the Mechanicus fleet and ventured a theory.

"The Mechanicus evacuation fleet clearly lacked the capacity to take everyone on this Forge World with them. Is it possible the planet descended into civil war over allocation of evacuation berths?"

It would explain the smoke and ruin blanketing Cath Maximus — but there was a glaring hole in the logic.

"You're telling me these Mechanicus grease-monkeys abandoned their own Forge World, and in the process didn't bother taking the Imperial Fists survivors with them? They just left them here to fend for themselves?"

Deputy Aibo had nothing to say to that. The remark, however, drew a nod of agreement from Hays's own adjutant.

"Honestly, I wouldn't put it past the grease-monkeys. Last campaign, we thought that lot had come to reinforce us — turns out they grabbed whatever they were after, dropped a Whirlwind torpedo on us as a parting gift, and bolted..."

Hays skewered his adjutant with a look sharp enough to cut ceramite. The man shut up instantly.

They obviously had to go down and find the Imperial Fists — but the more he studied it, the more Cath Maximus looked like a trap. And even if it wasn't, it was still a catastrophe waiting to happen. Hays decided to keep Admidel's group under continued detention for the time being, while he personally led a small team down to the intact section of the spaceport to assess the situation.

His decision met with predictable resistance from his subordinates.

"My lord, you are one of the High Lords — the supreme commander with full authority over this entire operation! You cannot go down there yourself!"

"There are no High Lords here. There is only the commander responsible for this mission. If I don't go down myself, who else has the authority to make split-second decisions when something unexpected happens?"

"But, sir—"

"No 'buts.' I am an Astra Militarum commander — I can't fight a void battle. If something happens to me on the ground, the captain of this battleship is to take command of all subsequent operations." Hays waved a hand. "Besides, the Imperial Fists warriors will see to my safety."

He looked toward the Imperial Fists honour company that had been garrisoned on the walls of the Terran palace. Their company commander stepped forward, struck his fist against his chest, and gave his word in a voice like bedrock:

"You are acting in the service of finding our Imperial Fists survivors. By our honour, we swear your safety."

With that said, there was little anyone else could argue. Accompanied by his personal guard and the Imperial Fists company, Hays stripped away most of his honorary decorations to look somewhat less conspicuous, then boarded a lander and made for the spaceport of Forge World Cath Maximus.

They had originally intended to observe the spaceport first before deciding whether to proceed through it to reach the surface, or simply make straight for the ground via Valkyrie landers. But to Hays's surprise, there was already someone waiting for them inside the spaceport.

The figure appeared to be a Magos. Even through the half-mechanical architecture of his face, a faint expression of profound boredom was still readable — the look of a man who had been standing here waiting for quite some time. The moment he laid eyes on the fully armed squad led by Hays, that boredom transformed instantly into something keen and eager.

He and his attendants raised both hands to demonstrate peaceful intent, then moved quickly toward Hays's group. Facing the wary honour guard, the Magos drew himself up slightly and introduced himself with a trace of pride.

"I am Forge Director Lifar, currently serving as acting Forge Director of Forge World Cath Maximus."

He deliberately displayed the identification codes on his person so everyone present could verify his identity. "I received word that a High Lord was leading a fleet on a visit, and came specifically to receive you and bring you to meet your objective."

"You — Forge Director?"

Hays studied Lifar for a moment, then glanced back at his adjutant. The adjutant, operating the identification system, gave a small nod — confirming that this Magos's claim to the title of Forge Director was not fabricated. But that only made Hays more incredulous.

"You're the Forge Director, and you came to the spaceport in person to receive an expedition fleet's advance party?"

Nominally, the Forge Director of any Forge World stood as a peer to the Fabricator-General of Mars, who held a permanent seat among the High Lords. Hays had never actually believed his own rotating seat put him on equal footing with that permanent office.

And what's more, to anyone watching from outside, they should have appeared as nothing more than a small advance scouting party. And yet that was enough to bring the Forge Director out in person?

Lifar rubbed his hands together, his expression shifting from pride to something closer to embarrassment. "The circumstances are... unusual. I was asked to come on someone else's behalf."

"On someone else's behalf? Who on this Forge World could ask that of you?"

Pressed by Hays's follow-up question, Forge Director Lifar's annoyance was plain to see.

Then he caught sight of the Imperial Fists warriors' boltguns trained on him, and his expression rearranged itself into something far more accommodating.

"Why, at the request of the current Imperial Fists Chapter Master Kurande and the Forge World Huangquan VIII Magos Lin, who is at his side. They are currently taking temporary shelter here on Forge World Cath Maximus. If you have come looking for them, then naturally it falls to me, as Forge Director of Forge World Cath Maximus, to take responsibility for guiding you to them!"

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