The Imperial Frontier: The Adeptus Mechanicus's Gift

The Silver Snake Bar was empty tonight, which was a rare sight. This establishment, arguably the most refined and well-equipped bar in the underhive, could easily be considered one of the best—and if you factored in its security, you could drop the "one of."

By all rights, it should have been packed, but tonight it was deserted. Every table stood bare, barstools were flipped upside down onto tabletops, and glasses and bottles were lined up with surgical precision on the shelves. Not a single light was lit; everything was completely submerged in darkness.

But gradually, a vague sound emerged from the silence, growing clearer by the second. Footsteps. A steady rhythm of footsteps.

The sound of heavy boots striking the wooden floor traveled through the deep darkness via solid conduction. As the iron-shod boots drew near, the lights flickered on with the sharp click of a switch.

"That's it?" Vito asked, and the woman in his arms gave a slight nod. "That's it."

Vito set her down and helped her onto a high stool. Silver Snake finally let go of his hand, placed her respirator on the table, and took a deep breath, regaining some composure after a moment of coughing.

Vito vaulted over the bar and pulled a bottle of fine liquor from the shelf. "How about this?" "Azure Heart? That's expensive." "Then it must be good."

He expertly popped the cork and poured a glass for Silver Snake, who managed a wry smile as she took a sip. The liquid calmed her nerves, and Vito poured one for himself.

They clinked glasses and downed the drink together. The beautiful bartender stared at her glass, watching the Azure Heart shimmer with tiny, starlike specks, as if the liquid contained an entire nebula.

She rubbed her arm, a wince of pain forcing a low curse from her lips, though the expression on her face lasted only a fleeting second—hardly even a reaction, just a slight twitch of her eyelids.

But clearly, Vito saw it. He shrugged slightly. "The Mandela Serum works fast, but it still needs a little time."

Silver Snake smiled. She took off her tattered jacket—Mosley's claws had practically shredded the sleeve—and tossed it onto a nearby stool. Vito watched her in the shirt that clung perfectly to her curves, lingering specifically on the cleavage straining at the neckline, and raised his glass in a silent toast.

Silver Snake sighed helplessly at him and pointed to the door beside the liquor shelf. "Don't you have an interrogation to conduct? Why not do something productive while I change?"

Vito chuckled, shrugged, and headed toward the back room, grabbing another bottle from the shelf as he passed. He turned back playfully, pointing the bottle at Silver Snake. "Personally, I prefer to admire the perfect craftsmanship of humanity, study the art of sculpting the human form, or perhaps some fine arts."

"You are the first person I've ever met who can make being a lecher sound so dignified. Vito, before I decide to blow your head off, get in there. And if I catch you peeking, it's the same result."

Vito's lips curled into a smile. He waved a hand and pushed open the inner door. Silver Snake sighed in resignation, a faint smile touching her own lips as she shrugged and headed toward another door.

Vito walked up to a chair with his bottle and glass, looking down with amusement at the unconscious man. Mosley's form had almost reverted to human; it was fascinating. It seemed he only took on that other shape when he was awake and highly agitated.

Vito took a sip of his drink and turned to look at Omega, who was busy assembling a device with his countless mechanical arms and active cables, moving with dizzying speed.

The Tech-Priest pulled a component from a crate, muttering what sounded like litanies of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Sometimes Vito found them truly strange. You see, these members of the Adeptus Mechanicus were always manipulating advanced equipment, weapons, or conducting incomprehensible research, spouting all sorts of esoteric technical jargon.

Yet, just like those fellows in the Ecclesiarchy, they would occasionally blurt out religious terms. While that wasn't uncommon in the Imperium, every time these guys said those words in their mesmerizing, synthesized voices, Vito felt an incredibly bizarre sensation.

"I am... a traitor!" a voice roared. Vito turned with a smile to look at the man. "Hello, Mosley. You woke up fast. Last time I stunned a heretic, he slept for two days."

"Heretic? You are the true heretic! Traitor! You are a traitor! Vito Constantine! A shameful traitor!" Mosley screamed. Vito just smiled. He poured a glass of wine and offered it to Mosley, but the man was bound by countless metal cables and chains, unable to take it—and clearly not in the mood to drink.

"A pity, this is good stuff," Vito said, drinking it himself. "Since you and that harlot betrayed us! Betrayed the Lord of Redemption! You will go to hell! To hell!"

Vito watched the religious zealot with immense amusement, eventually breaking into a laugh. This left Mosley stunned; he couldn't fathom why Vito found him so funny.

"Oh, my friend, I have never believed in your Lord of Redemption, so how could I have betrayed him?" He chuckled, looking at Mosley as one might look at a child. The man was silent for a moment, then his eyes widened.

He had assumed Vito was just a petty man greedy for power, but he had been wrong—completely wrong. He should have realized it sooner. Why hadn't he seen it?

"You are one of the False Emperor's men! A spy for those heretics up there!" he roared. A beast-like sound erupted from his throat, and the chains rattled as he struggled against his bonds.

Vito laughed again and pointed to the heavy chains. "Give it a rest. I used these same chains to bind a Greater Daemon of Khorne. That bastard was covered in fire and couldn't break them, so don't bother."

"And, do I need to remind you? The object of your faith is also The Emperor." "That is the False Emperor! The true Emperor has long since transcended! He has ascended into The Warp and become a true god!"

"You! You worship the master of Terra, who is nothing but a corpse! A tool devoid of divinity, used by greedy men to bewitch the masses! The Lord of Redemption! The true Emperor will punish you! He will come soon!"

Mosley ranted and raved. Vito tilted his head, looking at the man with suspicion. A Chaos cultist? Perhaps. Vito had heard many Chaos cultists scream similar things.

"Out of courtesy, Mosley, would you care to tell me the whole truth? About your cult and what happened on the space station?" "Never! I would rather die! I will never betray my Lord! The Emperor will save my soul and carry me into The Warp!"

"Tell me! Traitor, are you a spy sent by the heretical faction of the Adeptus Arbites?" Mosley glared. Vito raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Adeptus Arbites? You mean to tell me the local planetary government has been infiltrated that deeply by you lot?"

Mosley froze, staring at the man in utter shock. "You... you aren't from Victoria!" "Spot on."

Vito offered a pitying smile as he looked at the man. "Now, allow me to introduce my friend."

Vito stepped aside to gesture toward Omega. The Tech-Priest had finished assembling the device, which was covered in countless cable ports and flickering holographic displays. Everything centered on a single object: a shifting green crystal.

The thing constantly reformed and regenerated in fragments, resembling a liquid but not quite, yet one thing was certain: it was definitely not of human manufacture.

Mosley stared at the object in confusion. Naturally, he didn't understand it; it would be a miracle if he did.

Vito walked over to the device with a smile and patted Omega on the shoulder. "This is Omega. As you can see, a Tech-Priest Magos from Mars—specifically, a Magos Biologis and Dominus. He can tear you limb from limb, or he can read your memories, with the help of this beauty."

Vito displayed the strange device with immense pride. "A memory extractor! It took quite a bit of effort to 'borrow' this gem from the Forge World of Graia-8."

"Vito, the members of the Adeptus Mechanicus on Graia-8 do not know that you took the extractor. As far as their memory data is concerned, the memory extractor was destroyed in a riot incited by Alpha Legion traitor Space Marines. Therefore, the word 'borrow' does not conform to factual logic."

"You simply took it during the chaos. I do not believe that can be called 'borrowing,'" Omega stated, word for word, in his mesmerizing synthesized voice.

"Well, we helped out quite a bit back then, didn't we? If it weren't for us, those Alpha Legion bastards would have blown the Forge World's plasma reactor into the Warp."

"Rounding up, that's practically their consent. Besides, I didn't see any Skitarii holding plasma cannons to collect it, so that's that!" Vito declared loudly. "This thing can extract your memories and pull out those little secrets you don't want to share. We'll know everything soon enough."

He smiled. "There is just one small problem: it seems the people on Graia-8 didn't quite figure out how to use this xenos crystal properly. So... it's possible your brain might get fried. But have faith in the Lord of Redemption! Omega, if you please."

Vito stepped aside. Omega stepped forward with his mechanical iron feet, arcs of electricity sparking from the cables in his hands. Mosley's eyes widened as he watched, and he began to scream hysterically.

Vito smiled, waved a hand, and headed toward the door. "Omega, let me know once you've read something." "Understood."

Vito walked out of the room amidst the screams.