Steel & Oil: Warhammer 32K

The Shanzheng set out from the orbital space between Terra and Venus. It passed Terra, then lingered for several days before drawing close to Mars.

The Battle Moon still had not launched its assault, which gave Lin room to maneuver. Only once Lin had confirmed through the World Soul that Cath Maximus's reinforcements would arrive on schedule did the Shanzheng rendezvous with Lansung's two surviving battleships.

"I was a fool. Truly a fool. All I knew was that once we destroyed the orks' Battle Moon we'd be holding a victory parade on Terra. I never knew the orks had a second Battle Moon. I hoarded my strength so carefully, and in the end I threw away an entire fleet because we couldn't maneuver inside an atmosphere. You can still pick Solar Fleet wreckage off the ground on Terra even now…"

Everyone within earshot of the near-broken Lord High Admiral gave him a wide berth.

Realizing no one was willing to listen to him ramble any longer, the admiral who had returned to Terra in such high spirits after the battle at Port Sanctus let out a long sigh and opened the channel to the Shanzheng.

"This is the Solar Fleet. I am Lord High Admiral Lansung. By order of Imperial Commander Udin Macht Udo, I will accompany the Imperial Fists into Mars orbit."

Lin studied the haggard admiral. This glory-hungry man's handling of Port Sanctus had been so inept it barely seemed human, but his present condition suited Lin's purposes well enough.

At Lin's request, Kurande dispatched a delegation — Lin among them — to visit the Solar Fleet.

The admiral who had once shouted about "necessary sacrifices" while demanding the Imperial Fists be annihilated along with the Battle Moon now received the First Founding Chapter with painstaking courtesy, and swore he would cooperate with everything the Shanzheng did.

"Everything?" Lin asked, weighting the word.

Lansung froze. Instinct told him there was a conspiracy buried somewhere in that question. But his current position left him no room, so he steeled himself and answered, "So long as it serves the Imperium, of course I'll cooperate to the fullest."

"Good. If such a moment ever comes, I hope you'll make the sort of decision a genuinely intelligent man would make."

Having planted that seed with Lansung, Lin returned to the Shanzheng, and the fleet began pressing toward Mars orbit. The moment they entered the outer limit of the orbital defense installations' range, the data returned by the Shanzheng's radar arrays set the ship's cogitators shrieking alarms.

"Mars defense arrays have already locked onto us," the Shanzheng's captain reported.

The machine-spirit daemons summoned during the Soul Drinkers' revolt had not been fully purged from the Shanzheng's systems. They could not fundamentally cripple the vessel, but this colossal thing was running considerably slower than it should. In a firefight, it could not possibly intercept everything the Mars defense arrays threw at it.

Lin was untroubled. "They're bluffing. Keep advancing."

And so it proved.

More and more arrays swung onto the Shanzheng, yet Mars issued not even a proper warning. Ignorant of the ancient warship's true state, they were wary of a vessel only slightly smaller than a moon.

When the Shanzheng had come close enough that better than half of the defense arrays were tracking it at once, Mars finally opened a channel through a faint wash of static.

"This is the Mars Forge Council. In the name of the Omnissiah, binary blessings upon the Imperial Fists. Our sensor arrays have confirmed your arrival and validated your identity codes. Nevertheless we must ask: what is your purpose?"

Kurande stepped forward. "Not only the Imperial Fists. Brothers of the Ultimate Wall are assembled in Mars orbit. We come seeking the Fabricator General's aid and wisdom."

"We are unable to reconcile your actions with your words."

"That we came in person is proof enough of our sincerity."

The far end of the channel went quiet. After a moment, a second voice joined the link.

"I am Kubik, Fabricator General of Mars. Your request has been answered. Follow Mars's guidance; this meeting shall be held within the Temple of the Omnissiah."

Issaga exhaled. "At least half the defense arrays will stop aiming at us now."

"Only half were aiming in the first place," Lin corrected.

Orbital defenses that were not running at full strength told him something: the ork blockade of the whole Sol system had struck the cogboys just as hard. Cut off from off-world shipments, Mars was suffering badly from shortages of power and raw material.

The cogboys kept up appearances, but their orbital defenses were a hollow shell behind a stern face.

Even the Shanzheng in its current state could probably trade blows with Mars and survive.

Bypassing the spaceport, transport craft from the Shanzheng carried Kurande and his honour company down to Mars, with Lin traveling alongside. The Martians grumbled about a hundred Space Marines, but it fell just barely inside what they would tolerate.

The warriors were permitted their weapons. Everyone else, Lin included, still had to submit to inspection.

Agents of the Inquisition were already slipping into Mars while the Imperial Fists monopolized its attention. As the Priests handling the security screening approached the Imperial Fists column on the ground, Lin spotted a familiar face among the Martian party at once.

Urquidex was one of the inspectors.

The Priest, whom Lin had met once aboard the Battle Moon, worked hard to keep his expression neutral. But Lin read his tension anyway, in the optic lens that twitched and could not quite hold focus.

He checked Lin for contraband, and while doing so quietly fed a string of contact code into Lin's body.

Lin followed the code into the corresponding channel. Urquidex's frantic voice rose in his skull.

"Why are you only arriving now? There isn't much time left!"

"Time for what?" Lin asked.

"Mars's plan involving the ork teleportation apparatus, of course! Omnissiah above, I know what they mean to do! The project I've been assigned lately concerns the effect of ork teleport technology on biological matter. Do you understand what that means? They intend to use ork teleport technology to take Mars itself away from Terra!"

"You say there isn't much time. Are they close to finishing?"

"No — they've hit a technical bottleneck. The problem is finding a substitute to power the ork apparatus. Director Augustus, who heads the project, argues for solving it with Warp technology. But the more popular notion is to capture enough ork prisoners and use those beasts as batteries to translate Mars."

The inspection was finished. With no excuse left to remain near Lin, Urquidex had to withdraw. He dared not risk a long-range transmission here that might expose his disloyalty, so in his last seconds he pressed out what warning he could.

"Do not let Mars join your assault on the Battle Moon! If they take enough captives aboard it, Terra will face true annihilation!"

Lin gave no answer to the warning. Urquidex shot him one anxious look, then vanished into the crowd.

"What is it? You look somewhat strange," Kurande asked from beside him.

"Nothing. We proceed as planned. We need to reach the Temple of the Omnissiah and meet the Fabricator General."

The road to the Temple of the Omnissiah was vast and dead straight. All along it, mechanised menials of every description labored without pause, their bodies mostly fused with machinery, only traces of humanity left in them.

Unlike ordinary mortals, who knelt in salute before Space Marines, these devotees of the Omnissiah showed the Astartes no deference at all.

As Lin passed, they tracked the visiting Space Marines with mechanical eyes glowing red, as if appraising the intent of these outsiders.

The stares left Kurande deeply uneasy. "I sense a threat in those eyes far greater than the bodies behind them."

"Perfectly natural. It's the Priests and the Magi observing us through the menials' bodies. The Fabricator General we've come to see is certainly among them," Lin explained. "He'll adjust his negotiating posture based on what he's assessing right now."

"They can do that?"

"Don't underestimate them. What's packed inside those mechanised skulls goes far past the upper limit of what most people imagine."

The road narrowed, and the mechanical spires crowding both sides grew denser. The ranks of Skitarii drawn up along either verge pushed the oppressive air to its peak.

At last, after passing beneath an archway built from enormous gears, the silhouette of the Temple of the Omnissiah rose before them.

The temple towered, a mountain assembled from metal and cogwork. As the holy ground of the Omnissiah and the seat of the Omnissiah's power made manifest, its sheer presence could drive even non-believers to prostrate themselves.

Lin was not cowed by it. He spared the temple a single contemptuous glance.

"Time to go in. No need for nerves, though — Kubik himself won't be waiting for us inside."

They entered the temple, and the honour company was left in the great hall. Lin had intended to stay with them, but a Servitor came forward to guide him.

"Identification confirmed: Magos Biologis Lin, identity verified. Fabricator General Kubik invites you to attend this meeting as well. Please follow guidance. The Omnissiah's direction shall intersect with yours during this conclave."

Lin narrowed his eyes. The Fabricator General had separate plans for him.

He did not refuse the invitation, and went with Kurande to the temple's audience chamber. No one waited there — but the instant their entry registered, a pale blue projection sprang up on its own, presenting Kubik enthroned before Lin and Kurande.

His throne was a monstrous construction, studded with data ports, logic plugs, anchor points for Servo-skulls, and other, more arcane devices. The base was heaped with polished skulls; as decoration, they were rather too conspicuous.

Kubik clearly had not talked his way into the office of Fabricator General.

Naturally, the man seated on such a throne was himself an enormous thing. A full ten meters tall, he had remade himself into a metal behemoth — and among the Fabricator Generals of history, that made him one of the smaller ones.

As master of Mars, Kubik spoke first.

"It is a pleasure to know you, Brother Kurande. Had you not returned to Terra in time, it would certainly have fallen."

"Greetings to you, Fabricator General of Mars."

Kurande, mindful of protocol, bowed. Then, the necessary courtesies done, he cut straight to it. "But the Battle Moon will not halt its assault simply because we have arrived. We must act at once."

"Reasonable, of course. And your plan is?"

"Give us the support we need and we will attack the Battle Moon immediately. Wrath is our sharpest weapon. We will pour the Emperor's fury onto these xenos and smash the filthy greenskins who dare hang above the Throneworld into ruin!"

Kurande's words rang out, and the Fabricator General was unmoved. His thinking had long since been replaced by cold self-interested logic; another man's passion could not sway it.

"I can only praise your confidence, Chapter Master, though it looks very much like the desperate wager of a man with nowhere left to turn."

"We are no rabble. We are the Emperor's hammer!"

Kurande surged to his feet, fist clenched, and slammed a dent into the conference table. "The extinction of the orks is not a hypothesis, it is a certainty! We will scour away their blasphemy against the Imperium with their own blood! Even if the price is the last drop of ours, we will pay it gladly!"

"I maintain that caution is required," Kubik answered.

"Then I can only question your capacity for action. Fabricator General, has the ancient covenant between Terra and Mars been devoured by cold machinery?"

Lin had expected Kurande's bared edge to sour the room. Instead the Fabricator General showed nothing at all, and explained evenly:

"This is not a lack of capacity for action. It is objective fact. Our forces are strong only when anchored to a Forge World with adequate supply, and the size and armament of our fleets are constrained by treaty. Blind action would only expend precious military strength that could otherwise be applied to far greater effect."

"And your weapon arrays and war engines?" Lin cut in.

Kubik turned his gaze on Lin. He knew exactly what was being implied. "We certainly possess the means to destroy the Battle Moon directly from Mars, but the act itself is unworkable. Tell me, Brother Kurande — to destroy the Battle Moon, would you send the Shanzheng into it and let both be annihilated together?"

"If it were the final —"

"Do not hypothesize. The answer is simply no."

Kubik waved a hand, and a simulation of the Battle Moon's outright destruction bloomed in front of the two of them: the shattered Battle Moon becoming a swarm of vast meteors, falling straight onto Terra, the whole world driven into half-ruin by that "meteor shower."

Exactly as Port Sanctus had been.

"Employing any weapon more powerful than conventional force brings incalculable risk to Terra. Magos Lin, would you have us save the Throneworld by destroying it?"

Then he shifted course.

"Nevertheless, Mars will honor the covenant it signed with the Emperor in those days, and so I will help you. Though you offer us nothing but slander and accusation, Mars will still contribute its strength to this war that has caught everyone unprepared."

A manifest of the combat units earmarked for deployment was transmitted to Lin's and Kurande's servo-terminals. Lin looked it over and found it listed the support Mars intended to release to the Ultimate Wall.

Five army groups of Rangers and heavy Servitors, plus seven minor Knight houses sworn to Mars, together fielding close to three hundred Knight mechs.

Kurande glanced at Lin in astonishment — support on this scale was beyond anything he had imagined. Lin did not meet his eyes. He had just understood something.

Every word Urquidex had said was almost certainly true.

[Author's Note: In the original timeline the aid was also five army groups plus seven Knight houses. That much force, together with the Ultimate Wall's roughly four thousand Astartes, was enough to roll the Battle Moon right over — ork combat power looks pretty pathetic here (and then, immediately afterward, they had Uncle Black driven into a mutual-annihilation ending). Which nicely demonstrates that in the eyes of GW's writers, combat strength is just a floating value that serves the mood.]

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