For the sake of internal cohesion, Calanthus was forced to lead Heman aside to explain, fearing that further comments might provoke a volatile reaction from Axion. While the Primarch had ordered them to treat Axion with amity, it would do the Chapter no good if their allies defected over such slights. Not even the Ultramarines would lightly discard the support of a Knight House. Knight Lords were not like the typical noble lords of the Imperium; they actually took to the field of battle and could, quite literally, turn the tide of a war.
Especially in the current era, with the galaxy aflame on all fronts, the Imperium's wars were never-ending.
The hierarchy of Imperial warfare was evident in the order of deployment. Regular Astra Militarum regiments entered first, followed by elite corps to reinforce the lines, leading into a protracted grind of advance or defense. The units responsible for breaking stalemates were usually the Astartes. These demigods of the Imperium were deployed in squads to deliver crushing physical and psychological blows to the enemy, clearing the path for the regular infantry.
When the Astartes encountered a heavy target they couldn't easily neutralize, the most efficient solution, aside from calling in heavy Imperial armour, was to request an orbital drop of these Knight Lords. Their massive, heavy weaponry provided a superior solution compared to man-portable melta charges.
One might ask why they didn't simply level the position with Basilisk or Earthshaker fire. The answer lay in the enemy: fast-moving Chaos Knights, Wraithknights, Gorkanauts, and a host of other nameless horrors that were either incredibly fast, protected by void shields, or possessed some other esoteric defense. Or perhaps they were simply too heavily armoured for standard artillery to be effective. These were the peers of the Knight Lords. On a battlefield choked with las-fire and shells, the sight of these giant machines clashing was an inspiration.
It was an inspiration to the Knight Lords themselves, at least. For the Astra Militarum and the Astartes, it was a grim omen, for it meant the intensity of the war had escalated.
Of course, these big machines weren't invincible. Despite their firepower, a concentrated volley of melta fire could topple one. If that didn't work, another volley usually did. Asymmetric battlefields without corresponding support units were scattered throughout the cosmos. One either watched their comrades be slaughtered by enemy mechs or, with the support of their own Knights, crushed the enemies of the Emperor.
Calanthus spent a great deal of effort carefully choosing his words. Avoiding Axion's specific origins, he told Heman that it was an ancient machine containing a wealth of precious historical data. It didn't intend to belittle her or her House; it was simply making ill-timed judgments based on archaic records.
Heman could sense the complexity behind Calanthus's words. The Imperium was riddled with secrets, many of which were far above her station. Realizing that knowing too much might be dangerous, Heman dropped the matter. However, she warned Calanthus never to bring that "hunk of iron" near her household's Knights again. Otherwise, during the next combat drop, her hand might "slip" and cause her weapons to stray.
With a helpless, bitter smile, Calanthus returned to Axion, who was still examining the Knight Suit in the hangar. Though Axion hadn't turned its head to watch their conversation, the sensors distributed across its body gave it peerless situational awareness. A hushed conversation fifteen metres away was perfectly audible.
Before Calanthus could speak, Axion led the way out of the hangar.
"Finished so soon?" Calanthus asked hesitantly, hurrying to catch up.
Axion waved a mechanical hand dismissively. "The structural durability of these machines is inferior even to the construction equipment of my era. If you want those so-called 'Knights' to survive, you should advise them to stay as far from the battlefield as possible."
"Furthermore, the neural-link load appears excessively high. This design is highly irrational. I suggest they integrate a computational core for auxiliary support. It is baffling. Do these people not find it exhausting to pilot such things?"
"When it comes time to rotate pilots, remember to have the tech-priests assist in clearing the cache data."
Axion didn't bother lowering its volume. A tech-priest walking alongside a servitor pushing a cart of parts overheard the last two sentences.
"A Knight's Machine Spirit assists in the piloting. To guide a Divine Machine is a sacred honour; the exhaustion is a trial set by the Omnissiah for the faithful."
The priest paused. "As for your comment regarding 'clearing cache data'... what exactly do you mean?"
Axion looked at the tech-priest with curiosity, then glanced at Calanthus. Seeing that the Astartes had no intention of intervening, it stopped to explain.
"Integrating an auxiliary computational core to act as a data buffer is far more efficient than direct neural-signal injection. It prevents the pilot from being rendered a vegetable by data-stream overflow."
"Furthermore, I do not understand what you mean by 'Machine Spirit,' but the buffers of those machines are cluttered with a massive amount of neural mapping left behind by previous operators."
"If they were equipped with heuristic AI, once the initial pilot was removed, subsequent pilots should be unnecessary. However, when I attempted a digital handshake, the internal intelligence appeared primitive and incapable of differentiating data types. The residual sub-conscious imprints of numerous pilots have turned the auxiliary intelligence into an incredibly chaotic mess."
Axion had not expected these words to make the tech-priest practically jump out of his skin.
"You speak of purging the memories of the Machine Spirit?! To reset the Spirit to a blank slate and discard all its accumulated wisdom?!"
"By the Omnissiah, what heresy is this?! Construct! State your maker and your Forge World sect immediately! I shall report this horrific ideology to Mars for a full investigation!"
Faced with Axion's expressionless mechanical face, the tech-priest clutched his signature Mechanicus power axe and paced rapidly to Axion's side, attempting to find a serial number or affiliation among the Mechanicus icons on its chassis.
"Hah! A clever man, using a construct to spread his dangerous philosophies while hiding behind standard markings!"
The tech-priest then glared at Calanthus. "Calanthus, tell me, who manufactured this scrap-heap? Why do you harbor it?"
Seeing the priest's ire finally turn toward him, Calanthus prepared to pull him aside for an explanation.
But then, Axion emitted a series of rapid, piercing bursts of noise. To the unaugmented ear, it was merely an annoying din.
The tech-priest, however, froze in his tracks.
He looked at Axion with a bizarre, haunted expression, then turned and walked away without a word.
Calanthus realized immediately: Axion had communicated something to the priest using that incomprehensible binary cant.
"What did you say to Priest Boramos?"
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