Post by Fauntleroy on Sept 18, 2015 19:36:54 GMT
Operatus: Omicron-IX
Elapsed Time: [015-52-29]
Magos Telok had not lasted as long as he had under attachment to the Twentieth Legiones Astartes by questioning their methods. Those that did didn’t keep their minds un-wiped for long - Mechanicum or not. Even with those facts taken into account this latest deception on their part seemed particularly convoluted, however.
The dirt-encrusted steel tunnels that the Magos was currently navigating put him slightly in mind of the walls of the forge-fanes of his home world, Incaladion. The thought sent a tic of annoyance through the adept’s largely unused temporal lobe. Work on the Hen-ry engine had been infuriatingly slow, despite – or perhaps because – of its crudeness, and not for the first time Telok wished they had the Titans of the Tiger Eyes with them. He consoled himself only with the thought that they probably would have struggled to fit even here.
The legion serfs following behind him gave the entire group more the air of a religious procession than a reconnaissance in force. Telok supposed that that was the point; all the better to help reinforce the Alpha Legion’s lie. The humans had been selected from the most physically able to hand, and armed with without viable weaponry they had to hand. As an honour guard they were acceptable, though Telok would still have felt more comfortable with a cohort of Thallax or a Skitarii maniple. On the other hand they had not exactly been tested, unless one counted their stumbling upon the corpse of a giant decaying rodent in part of the shaft a challenge. One of the serfs had nearly thrown up from the grave-stink. Telok wondered if they could jam some bionics into what was left of its brain and bring it back to ‘life’. It seemed to work well enough with Imperials…and really, there wasn’t that much difference between the two.
The Legion’s operatives had at least remembered to keep their trackers on, which made the process of navigating towards their location considerably easier. With any luck the legion’s theory that the aliens would still be following them would prove correct. The mention of such developed stealth-technology had interested both the Astartes and tech-priest, for obvious reasons, but most of all he just wanted to get this over with. The helmet he had chosen for the journey – layers of reinforced steel fashioned in the shape of a canine’s skull – was in keeping with his home’s traditions, but even Telok had to admit that wearing it for a long time brought about pronounced discomfort.
Eventually they came upon the group of operatives, who had been wise enough to heed the orders not to return to the main encampment. The Magos’ appearance seemed to catch them off guard, several flinching lightly, but they didn’t verbally question it. Telok did not even acknowledge them. He planted the butt of his axe on the ground and let his companions spread out, priming the photon thruster at his wrist with a thought. Perhaps the aliens would take his readying of the beam-weapon as a sign of aggression if they could pick it up, but the security it brought him was worth it. Once again he cursed the Alpha Legion for putting him up to this.
“Xenos.” He said, noting with interest the way his deep tones echoed off the metal walls. “If you are here, as I believe you are, deal with me. I am sure you will find such discourse more profitable.”
Alpha Legion
-Magos Telok and 15 Legion serfs linking up with Operatives they believe are being tracked by the Tau in the vents.