"Lorgar, watch yourself for a while. The Adeptus Mechanicus has its eye on you."
Malcador's calm, unruffled voice, weighted with the years, reached Lorgar clearly on the bridge of the Law of Faith through a highly classified psychic holographic communications channel.
On the screen, the old Sigillite's face, etched with wisdom and hardship, was as grave as ever. His grey-robed figure seemed unchanged since time immemorial.
Lorgar had just completed the initial reorganization and personnel assignments in the Kiavahr system. His vast crusade Fleet was preparing to recalibrate its course, depart its temporary anchorage, and return to its long-interrupted schedule of crusade operations along the edge of the star cluster.
Backlogged battle reports, worlds awaiting reconquest, remnants of xenos forces to eradicate... There was still far too much for him to deal with.
Malcador's warning, sudden yet in some sense expected, made Lorgar pause slightly as he studied the star chart and considered his next move.
He turned toward the screen, his black eyebrows rising in a faintly mocking arch.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus... has its eye on me?" Lorgar repeated, his tone betraying neither surprise nor wariness, nor even whether he simply found the notion absurd.
"Because I flattened Kiavahr and destroyed a few of their STCs and databases? Or because... I have a few little trinkets they think I 'shouldn't' be keeping?"
"Perhaps both. The precise details are not yet entirely clear." Malcador's answer gave nothing away, but a note of warning lingered in his voice.
"But Mars, particularly Fabricator-General Utio's faction, has recently taken a noticeably greater interest in your movements and... your handling of certain 'technological assets.' For now, it appears to be no more than probing and simmering internal discontent, far short of anything requiring formal negotiations or conflict."
He paused. Those eyes, which had seen