The Primarch of Liberty

Chapter 40: A Storm Brews



The crimson dust of Mars swirled outside the windows of the Olympus Mons' central meeting chamber. Inside, the air hummed with the soft whirr of cogitators and the tension of impending debate. Magos Draykavac's augmented eyes glowed a fierce red as he faced Koriel Zeth, newly elevated to the rank of Magos. Between them stood Kelbor-Hal, already a senior and influential figure within the Mechanicum hierarchy.

Draykavac's vox-caster crackled to life, his voice a mixture of static and disdain. "The Independence Cluster is an anomaly that challenges the very foundations of our Quest for Knowledge. They possess technologies that, by all rights, should be under Mechanicum purview!"

Koriel Zeth's response was measured, her tone carefully modulated. "The Cluster's achievements are a testament to human ingenuity, Draykavac. Their willingness to share advancements has already accelerated our understanding by decades, if not centuries."

"Share?" Draykavac scoffed, mechadendrites writhing in agitation. "They offer trinkets while hoarding the true treasures of the Dark Age of Technology. It is an affront to the principles of the Mechanicum!"

Kelbor-Hal raised a hand, his gesture silencing both. "We must consider the broader

implications. The Cluster's production capabilities are unmatched. The Great Crusade relies heavily on their output."

Draykavac's optics narrowed. "Precisely why we must act now, before they become too entrenched. Their autonomy is a threat to Martian influence!"

"And what would you propose?" Zeth challenged. "An assault on a Primarch's homeworld? On a system that enjoys the Emperor's direct protection?"

"If necessary," Draykavac hissed. "Better to address this issue now than allow it to

undermine our position within the Imperium."

Kelbor-Hal's voice carried a warning. "Careful, Draykavac. Such talk borders on sedition. The Emperor's will regarding the Cluster is clear."

"The Emperor?" Draykavac's laugh was a harsh, mechanical sound. "He who keeps secrets from Mars? Who allows this 'Cluster' to operate beyond our oversight? He who arrived as a Techno Warlord from Terra! A barbarian who forcibly subjugated MARS!"

Zeth stepped forward, her Independence cluster augmented eyes flashing. "The Emperor himself recognized my work with the Cluster, elevating me to Magos. The Akashic Reader is but one fruit of our collaboration. Can you not see the potential?"

"I see compromise," Draykavac retorted. "Dependence on outsiders, on technology we do not control. It goes against the Mechanicum's purpose!"

The air in the chamber crackled with tension as Draykavac's mechadendrites coiled tightly around him, his augmented eyes glowing with a fierce intensity. "If necessary," he snarled, his voice a mix of organic growl and vox-enhanced menace. "We have our own forces, our Titan Legions. The Cluster may have advanced technology, but we have numbers, we have devotion to the Omnissiah!"

Koriel Zeth stood her ground, her newly granted status as Archmagos giving her words added weight. She met Draykavac's gaze steadily, her own augmetics whirring softly as she processed the best approach to counter his zealotry. "Consider this: if the Liberty Eagles wanted to, they could lay waste to half of Mars before we could mount an effective defense. The Mechanicum of Mars is no longer the technological colossus you think it is."

"Blasphemy!" Draykavac roared, stepping toward Zeth. His mechadendrites unfurled, reaching out threateningly. "You dare speak such heresy here, in the heart of Mars itself?" Kelbor-Hal, who had been observing the exchange with calculated interest, raised a hand. "Peace, Archmagos Draykavac. Let us hear Zeth out. Knowledge, after all, is the foundation of our order."

Draykavac's mechadendrites retreated, but his fury remained palpable. "Very well," he spat. "Let the heretek speak. But know this, Zeth - your words border on treason against the Omnissiah."

Zeth's expression remained impassive, but her voice carried a hint of challenge. "The Mechanicum has its own fleet, you say? A fleet of floating tombs with guns, more like."

Draykavac's augmetic eye twitched, a rare display of organic reaction. "Our ships are the pinnacle of Imperial naval technology!"

"Are they?" Zeth countered. "The Archangel-class voidship of the Liberty Eagles, the 'Sweet Liberty,' could take down three or more Gloriana-class voidships in direct confrontation. And its main cannon? It's a blackhole weapon."

For a moment, pride overrode Draykavac's caution. "We too possess such weapons!" Zeth's lips curled into a cold smile. "Do you? And how long does your black hole weapon take to charge, Archmagos Draykavac? The Sweet Liberty could fire its weapon at command." Draykavac fell silent, his mind racing. He knew the limitations of the Mechanicus' weapons all too well - the long charge times, the massive energy requirements. The implications of what Zeth was saying began to sink in.

Kelbor-Hal leaned forward, his interest piqued. "You seem to possess a wealth of information about the Cluster's capabilities, Archmagos Zeth. Care to enlighten us further?"

Zeth nodded, seizing the opportunity. "The Independence Cluster is capable of making their own Standard Template Constructs, while we can barely understand a few. Our greatest achievement in recent memory has been the partial decryption of existing STCs. They create new ones."

Draykavac's mechadendrites writhed in agitation. "Impossible! The creation of new STCs is beyond even the capabilities of the Mechanicum of Mars!"

"Is it?" Zeth challenged. "Or is that simply what we've told ourselves to justify our own limitations?"

Kelbor-Hal's eyes gleamed with a mix of skepticism and intrigue. "These are bold claims, Archmagos Zeth. If true, the implications are... significant."

Zeth turned back to Draykavac, her voice taking on a sharp edge. "You speak of your Titan Legions, Archmagos. Are you willing to reveal the depths of the Doctrine of Overwhelming Firepower that the Eagles possess? Are you prepared to see if the Eagles would field something far beyond our comprehension? Are you willing to sacrifice your precious Titan Legions, the Godmachines, just to reveal to the greater Imperium the extent of the Liberty Eagles' firepower?"

Draykavac's organic eye widened, a flicker of doubt crossing his face before being quickly suppressed. "Our Titans are the mightiest war machines in the galaxy!"

"Are they?" Zeth pressed. "There are no recorded instances of the Eagles fielding Titans of their own. But perhaps that's because there has been no threat strong enough to necessitate their deployment. Their armored vehicles alone could make our Baneblades look like

children's toys."

Kelbor-Hal interjected, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. "You paint a picture of a force beyond our current understanding, Archmagos Zeth. If what you say is true, why has the Cluster not simply... taken control?"

Zeth turned to Kelbor-Hal, recognizing the critical nature of this question. "Because they, unlike some, understand the value of cooperation and the dangers of hubris. They work with the Imperium, not against it. The Emperor himself sanctions their autonomy." Draykavac scoffed, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice now. "The Emperor? Why would He allow such power to exist outside the direct control of Mars?"

"Perhaps," Zeth said softly, "He understands something that we, in our arrogance, have forgotten. The pursuit of knowledge is not about hoarding it, but about using it wisely."

Draykavac stormed out of the room.

Archmagos Draykavac strode through the winding corridors of his personal forge-sanctum, his metallic footsteps echoing off the ancient walls. The acrid smell of molten metal and the hiss of pneumatic machinery filled the air, a symphony of industry that usually calmed his circuits. But not today. Today, his mind was a maelstrom of calculations, plots, and barely

contained rage.

The confrontation with Koriel Zeth replayed in his cogitators, each word a fresh insult to his beliefs and to the supremacy of the Mechanicum. His mechadendrites lashed out, smashing a nearby servitor against the wall. The broken automaton slumped to the ground, sparks flying from its ruptured circuits.

"Impossible," he muttered, his vox-enhanced voice grating with distortion. "The claims of that upstart Zeth cannot be true. The Independence Cluster, superior to Mars? Blasphemy!" He reached his private sanctum, a chamber filled with arcane machinery and forbidden tech- relics. As the reinforced door sealed behind him, he allowed his carefully maintained composure to crumble. His augmetic eyes flared with a crimson fury as he turned to the holo- display dominating the center of the room.

"Omnissiah," he intoned, "grant me the wisdom to see through these lies, and the strength to purge this corruption from our midst."

The display flickered to life, projecting a detailed map of the known galaxy. Draykavac's gaze fixed on the small cluster of stars representing the Independence Cluster. Such a small region, and yet, if Zeth was to be believed, it posed a greater threat than any xenos race or rebellious

uprising.

"No," he growled, his mechadendrites coiling tightly around him. "I will not allow this affront to stand. The Mechanicum of Mars is the true keeper of humanity's technological legacy. We alone are worthy of the Omnissiah's gifts."

His mind raced through possibilities, discarding some, refining others. The majority of the Mechanicum were traditionalists, yes, but many were also blinded by complacency. They would need to be shown the true extent of the threat.

"Kelbor-Hal," he mused, his tone laced with suspicion. "Ambitious, yes, but perhaps...

useful."

Draykavac knew that Kelbor-Hal's aspirations for the position of Fabricator-General could be leveraged. The rising Magos would need allies, support from various factions within the Mechanicum. And what better way to garner that support than by exposing a threat to Mars

itself?

His mechadendrites interfaced with the holo-display, bringing up detailed schematics of Mechanicum vessels and weapon systems. If the Sweet Liberty truly possessed the capabilities Zeth claimed, then new countermeasures would be needed. Experimental weapons, enhanced void shields, faster warp drives - all would be necessary to close the gap.

"But first," he muttered, "proof. Irrefutable evidence of the Cluster's heretical innovations." Draykavac's mind turned to his network of spies and tech-adepts scattered throughout the Imperium. Many were already positioned near the fringes of the Independence Cluster, gathering what scraps of information they could. But it wasn't enough.

He brought up another display, this one showing the known movements of various Explorator fleets. If he could redirect some of these fleets to probe the defenses of the Independence Cluster, to test its boundaries and capabilities, it would provide valuable data. And if some of these fleets were lost in the process... well, that would only serve to underscore the danger the

Cluster posed.

"The Omnissiah's will is clear," Draykavac intoned, his voice filled with fanatical certainty. "The secrets of the Independence Cluster must be claimed for Mars, their hereteks brought to heel, their innovations purged of corruption and incorporated into the true faith of the Machine God."

His mechadendrites danced over the controls, sending out encoded messages to his most trusted allies and agents. The gears of his plan were beginning to turn, a vast and intricate mechanism that would shake the very foundations of the Mechanicum and the Imperium

itself.

The hologram of Archmagos Koriel Zeth flickered into existence in Franklin Valorian's private chambers aboard the Sweet Liberty. The Primarch, lounging in a plush chair with a glass of amasec in hand, looked up from the holographic display of a world burning under the ministrations of his 2nd Captain, Steven Armstrong.

Franklin's face broke into a wide grin, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Well, well, if it isn't my

favorite tech-priest! Or should I say, tech-priestess? You're looking decidedly more human

these days, Koriel."

Indeed, Zeth's appearance was a far cry from the typical Mechanicum Archmagos. Her human

face had been restored, free from the usual augmetics that marked her kind. Instead of the traditional mechadendrites, a swarm of sleek, floating drones orbited her form. Zeth's lips curled into a small smile, a rare expression for a Mechanicum Archmagos. "Your

influence is hard to escape, Lord Valorian. I find this... flesh superiority approach has its merits."

"I see you're enjoying the show. Another successful 'diplomatic mission'?" Franklin chuckled, gesturing to the burning world displayed beside Zeth's hologram. "Oh,n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

you know how it is. Some xenos just refuse to see reason. But don't worry, Steven's got it well

in hand. He's always been good at... persuasion." "But I see you've made some... adjustments to your approach?"

Franklin's grin returned. "Sharp as ever, my dear Archmagos. Yes, I've made a few tweaks to our diplomatic protocol. Armstrong is down there for 'negotiations', but he's got the entire might of the Liberty Eagles at his back. The shadow of our fleet is blotting out their sun as we

speak."

"Speak softly and carry the biggest stick in the galaxy?" Zeth asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Franklin laughed heartily. "Exactly! A little twist on old Terra's President Roosevelt. It's

amazing how much more... receptive people become when they're negotiating in the shadow

of impending annihilation."

Zeth's expression turned serious. "Speaking of impending problems, Lord Valorian, I'm

afraid I bring some potentially troubling news from Mars."

Franklin's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh? And here I thought you just missed my charming company. What's troubling you, my dear?"

"The traditionalists within the Mechanicum are growing restless," Zeth reported. "Archmagos Draykavac, in particular, is becoming more vocal in his opposition to our... relationship with the Cluster, they plan something...drastic"

Franklin leaned forward, his massive form seeming to fill the holographic projection. "Define

'drastic,' Koriel. Are we talking strongly worded data-slates, or something more... explosive?"

"I'm not certain," Zeth admitted. "But there have been whispers of plans to... neutralize the

perceived threat. Whether through cyber attacks, sabotage, or even outright invasion, I cannot say."

Franklin's laugh was loud and genuine, startling Zeth. "Oh, Koriel. Let him try. Really, I mean

it. If Draykavac wants to throw his rattling tin cans at my Cluster, he's more than welcome." Zeth's brow furrowed. "My Lord, I don't think you understand the seriousness of-" "Oh, I understand perfectly," Franklin interrupted, his voice suddenly serious though his eyes still twinkled with amusement. "But you, my dear Archmagos, don't understand the full

extent of what the Cluster is capable of. Tell me, what do you know about how we survived the

Men of Iron Rebellion?"

Zeth blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. "I... not much, I'm afraid. The records from that time are fragmented at best."

Franklin nodded, leaning back in his chair. "As they should be. But let me tell you a little

secret, Koriel. The Independence Cluster didn't just survive the Rebellion - we thrived during

it,"

Zeth's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"Let's just say," Franklin said, his voice low and tinged with a hint of danger, "that if

Draykavac decides to poke the sleeping dragon, he might find that dragon is actually an old friend. One who's been waiting a very, very long time to wake up."

Franklin paused, letting the weight of his words settle in, then added with a grim smirk, "And

you know what they say-the more they fuck around, the more they'll find out."

Zeth nodded solemnly. " But... what should I do about Draykavac?" Franklin's easy smile returned. "Do? Nothing. Let him plot and scheme. If he's foolish enough

to make a move against us, well... it'll be a learning experience for him. And possibly a

terminal one." "And if he targets you personally?" Zeth asked, concern evident in her voice. Franklin's laugh boomed through the chamber. "Me? Oh, Koriel. I'm a Primarch with the

shiniest toys and the biggest ones, Draykavac and his forge worlds could come at me, and I'd

still be standing at the end. But I appreciate your concern."

Zeth nodded, a small smile returning to her face. "Very well, Lord Valorian. I'll keep you

informed of any developments."

"Thank you, Koriel," Franklin said, raising his glass in a toast. "For being a voice of reason in

that nest of zealots. Keep up the good work - and keep embracing that humanity of yours. It looks good on you."

As Zeth's hologram flickered out, Franklin turned his attention back to the burning world on

his display. His smile faded, replaced by a look of grim determination.

"Alright, Armstrong," he muttered to himself. "Wrap it up down there. We might have some

pest control to deal with back home soon."

The flames on the display seemed to burn brighter, as if in anticipation of the conflicts to

come.