Thien spat the metallic powder onto the deck and leaned back against the medical bed, looking regretfully at Axion.
"I cannot digest this. While our standard rations include substantial mineral and even metallic components, and chewing on raw steel in a pinch is not an issue, this metal exceeds the limits of what the body can process."
Axion nodded with a flicker of regret, then picked up the canister, preparing to dispose of it.
Outside the observation port of the medical bay, two voyeuristic Mechanicus Magos practically convulsed with excitement. Seeing Axion casually toss the container down a ship-grade refuse chute, they immediately dispatched two Servo-skulls to retrieve the discarded material.
The Inquisitor, who had been observing everything covertly, furrowed his brow further in contemplation.
Clearly, any artifact originating from this ancient machine held immense appeal for the Adeptus Mechanicus, and the machine's apparent depth of technological knowledge would exponentially increase that attraction. As an Inquisitor, he had traveled vast reaches of the galaxy and dealt with every strata and power bloc.
The Adeptus Mechanicus was undoubtedly one of the most troublesome factions to deal with. Once these 'mechanical heads' developed an interest in something, they were virtually unstoppable. If one wished to avoid being secretly converted into a Servitor or having their biological components repurposed as wetware for some mechanism, one needed either robust political backing or overwhelming physical force.
Alas, this unremarkable Inquisitor possessed neither. He was merely an ordinary operative dispatched to determine the truth of the situation. Against xenos or daemons, he could call for aid; against rebels, he could also call for aid. But against the Mechanicus? If you didn't wish for a Machine-Spirit to suddenly become 'unruly' and send you to meet the Emperor ahead of schedule, it was best to hold your tongue.
Perhaps, by deftly navigating this situation and offering the Mechanicus a political favor, he could gain some advantage. The title of the Imperial Inquisition was terrifying, but its power was relative. Sometimes, the truly terrifying element was not the Inquisition itself, but the reputation of a few legendary Inquisitors.
Having clarified the critical path in his mind, the Inquisitor's mood improved considerably. He then motioned for the two Magos to follow him into the medical chamber.
As the automatic doors hissed open and the Inquisitor appeared, all occupants of the chamber immediately regained their composure. The two Dark Angels lying on the other medical beds merely opened their eyes for a brief assessment before returning to their meditative state.
Of everyone present, these two Astartes were the most unfortunate. They had undertaken a simple mission only to be nearly cleaved in half, armour and all, on arrival. Now, they were dependent on others while their severed limbs were reattached.
Because re-implantation of severed limbs was a rare surgical procedure, Apothecary Ousen had prioritized them, practicing on them first and placing Thien last. The two Dark Angels were unaware of the situation but felt a degree of gratitude. Fortunately, the trial run was successful; within mere minutes, both their arms regained sensation. They only needed a few more hours for their superhuman self-healing to simply stitch the wounds shut. Their damaged Power Armour had been handed over to Techmarine Farien for immediate repair.
The two Marines knew the mission had likely failed; they possessed no ability to forcibly seize Axion. Its reaction speed far exceeded the limits of a regular Astartes. Should it choose to strike again as it had before, they would be unable to evade the blow.
The two Magos, following the Inquisitor, rushed forward immediately upon entering the chamber, converging on the prosthetics Axion had placed nearby. They laboriously held up the unnervingly heavy limbs and subjected them to continuous scans, clearly attempting to reverse-engineer the technology within.
However, the final metallic casing applied by Axion obscured all minute details. No matter how the two Magos utilized the scanners and probes incorporated into their bodies, they could not extract any specialized information. They could only decipher the general mechanical structure.
Yet, even this basic comprehension of the exquisite and complex mechanical structure was enough to drive the two Magos into a state of zealous excitement. Staring intently at the prosthetic interface, they conferred in detail.
"This does not appear to be any known prosthetic interface?"
The two Magos repeatedly manipulated the limbs in their hands, but Axion made no attempt to intervene. On the contrary, their display of fervor and excitement made Axion distinctly confused.
The Adeptus Mechanicus had existed for tens of millennia, their history predating the Imperium itself. Based on their robes and appearance, Axion could easily identify them as Magos, even without speaking to them. But why were these priests of the Machine God so intensely interested in such simple mechanical structures?
According to the data stored in its memory banks, the Magos of the Mechanicus were all masters of mechanical design, their capacity for creation and fabrication supposedly exceeding its own. Furthermore, the mechanical devices being used as prosthetics were of a very low specification. They were not even equipped with any auxiliary weapon systems or transformation mechanisms, their function being strictly rudimentary.
However, the reality was entirely different.
Over the long millennia, vast quantities of technology had been lost. Countless surviving relics had become 'Black Boxes'—impossible to analyze and impossible to reproduce. Although the thought of restarting true scientific development had occurred, the Emperor had blocked that path. The malevolent forces of the Warp could influence and distort the material universe, making it impossible to ascertain whether the physical laws underpinning new technology were true or merely a Warp-induced disaster waiting to happen. The past calamities of the Iron Men rebellion and the Dark Age of Technology were testament to this fact. The Emperor knew the source of all such existential threats.
As the medical chamber's automatic doors opened once more, the tall, Power Armour-clad figure of Farien appeared in the doorway.
"Sirs, I was just finishing the repairs on the Dark Angels' Power Armour when I was notified to report here immediately. What has occurred?" Farien asked, slightly taken aback by the crowded state of the chamber.
Axion promptly snatched the prosthetics from the hands of the surprised Mechanicus Magos and thrust them into Farien's grip.
"I fabricated these two prosthetics for Thien, but my technical data does not include biological augmentation installation procedures. Thien stated this falls under your purview, so they are entrusted to you."
Farien stared blankly at the two incredibly refined prosthetics in his hands. He looked uncertainly at Thien lying on the bed, then back at the two Mechanicus Magos who were still bewildered by the sudden seizure of the limbs.
"Biological augmentation? Wouldn't these two Magos be more proficient at that? Why specifically summon me?"
Speaking, Farien held the prosthetics up for a closer inspection. Looking at the completely unfamiliar prosthetic interface, he turned pleadingly to the two Magos, who were already engaged in a heated debate over their private vox-channel.
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