The retreat went smoothly. After using fragmentation grenades and a melta bomb to block the pursuing scarab swarm, Luka and Orvillea returned to the mining pit with their haul.
"Blast this place. We can't let those xenos follow," Luka said to Orvillea the moment they emerged, demanding the breach be sealed.
Orvillea hesitated but agreed. Their last melta bomb collapsed the passage with rubble, blocking access until cleared.
Still, Luka remained vigilant. "These xenos have phase-shifting tech. They can pass through solids. Blocking the passage won't stop them. I'll station a regiment outside the mine to prevent an invasion."
"I understand. I'll deploy more auto-turrets and combat servitors," Orvillea replied, her focus already on their spoils.
Through her insistence, the mining servitors had dismantled key stasis chamber components, including parts of a stasis crypt, and retrieved over a dozen Necron Warrior bodies. They also secured three wrecked Canoptek Spyders and two Canoptek Wraiths—damaged but intact enough for data analysis.
Orvillea, unconcerned about waking more Necrons, yearned to return to her workshop to study the relics. But Luka blocked her path. "Sage, about our haul—what's your plan? You're eager to research, but can you? An exiled biologis with no apprentices, no proper servitors or laborers—can you handle this alone?"
His words cut deep. As a Mechanicus Sage without followers, her credibility was questionable. Luka wasn't just exposing her weakness—he wanted a share of the spoils. Knowing the Mechanicus, Orvillea would hoard everything, leaving him nothing.
Without securing a cut now, Luka risked losing out. Orvillea's promise of a thousand Battle Sister kits was dubious, given her lack of resources and the Mechanicus's shaky trustworthiness.
Orvillea hesitated, then activated her forge-axe's silence field. "I may have been stripped of everything, but I'm not empty-handed."
"A secret lab? A hidden forge-ark?" Luka wasn't surprised she had a backup plan, only curious about its nature.
"You know my mentor, Belisarius Cawl. It's no secret he had a forge in the Mariupol Sector," Orvillea said, a hint of shame in her voice, referencing her teacher.
"Cawl had a forge here?" Luka's surprise faded— it made sense. Ten thousand years ago, Cawl, tasked by Primarch Roboute Guilliman, perfected the Primaris Space Marines. Across the galaxy, he hid nearly a million stasis-sealed Primaris and their gear, fueling Guilliman's Indomitus Crusade. On Mars alone, Cawl stashed tens of thousands. For the Crusade, he unveiled eighty fully equipped chapters.
Luka recalled a humorous yet practical Warhammer meme: "What if the High Lords/Emperor learn I've hoarded hundreds of thousands of Space Marines?" Cawl, who did just that, had no desire to be Mars's Fabricator-General.
Orvillea explained Cawl had spent years in the Mariupol Sector, building a forge with a maintenance team. She, his exiled student, was tied to it, but the forge now belonged to her rival.
"Your rival controls it, and you're telling me this to… help you retake it?" Luka mused, stroking his chin. If he aided her, he might search the forge's vaults for hidden Primaris.
But Orvillea shook her head. "No, I'll reclaim my mentor's forge myself. I'm saying my rival could be a collaborator."
"Your rival, who stole your mentor's forge, is someone you'd work with?" Luka frowned, confused.
"It's simple. We were forge-apprentices from the same industrial world, once close partners. I was lucky to become Cawl's student; she served a lesser Sage," Orvillea said, recounting a somewhat melodramatic tale.
(Chapter End)