The arriving forge ship was small, Alex noted. Not a Goliath-class, but a modified Endurance-class light cruiser.
(Endurance-class)
Not a true forge ship, it felt like a makeshift substitute, cobbled together when a proper one wasn't available.
Still, it was a forge ship, and its owner—a Mechanicus Sage—was not someone Alex could dismiss lightly.
"Tch, just a forge ship? My teacher has forge arks!" Ovilia muttered in binary, drawing Alex's glance.
Binary was obscure to non-Mechanicus, but Alex's Inquisitor persona, tied to the Ordo Xenos, knew enough languages to catch it. He couldn't match a tech-adept's implant-driven fluency (condensing ten minutes of binary curses into five seconds), but he understood normal-paced binary rants.
Noticing his gaze, Ovilia switched to Low Gothic. "It's true! My teacher, Belisarius Cawl, has multiple forge arks. What's so special about her converted light cruiser?"
For the ten-millennia-old Cawl, forge arks were indeed commonplace.
"I may only have a converted light cruiser, but it's better than you—a branded tech-heretic with no apprentices," the arriving Sage retorted in Low Gothic, stepping off the ship.
Ovilia let out a sharp, static-like burst of noise.
"Ignore her. She's always been like this—cursing when she's outmatched," the Sage said to Alex, waving dismissively. "I'm Sage Donia of Mariupol Forge World. You must be Inquisitor Alex, this fool's patron. I've spoken with your Throne Agent, Rogue Trader Merlin. His trade proposal was tempting, but sadly, it didn't sway my teacher, and we couldn't reach an agreement."
Alex's attention shifted to Donia. Unlike Ovilia, who retained human features, Donia had shed most of her humanity. Beneath her red robes, little flesh remained—just mechanical structures and implants. Her arms appeared original, but her bloodless, pale-blue skin suggested she'd replaced her blood with some fluid. She wielded a forge axe, a double-barreled melta gun mounted on a servo-arm, and a servo-skull perched on her shoulder. A sage's staff, absent in Ovilia, lent her an air of authority.
Alex couldn't identify the other servo-arm instruments, recognizing only the large liquid-filled vials on her back.
"Greetings, Sage Donia. I've heard much about you from Merlin and Ovilia. Meeting you lives up to your reputation," Alex said politely, addressing the Sage who embodied Mechanicus aesthetics.
"Why so courteous? She's here because she needs you," Ovilia scoffed, clearly irked by Alex's lack of deference toward her.
Alex felt awkward, but Donia spoke first. "Formal courtesy enhances communication efficiency. Your failure to grasp this led to your downfall. Though branded a tech-heretic, you're still a Sage. The governor likely respected you initially, but you've squandered that, haven't you?"
Donia's mostly implant-covered face showed no expression, but her exposed eyes glinted with pity and mockery.
"Mind your own business!" Ovilia snapped, stomping hard enough to dent the ceramite floor.
Alex flinched—her human exterior belied a strength rivaling Astartes.
Stepping in, he mediated. "Ladies, can we call a truce? Let's sit and talk calmly."
His intervention gave them an out. Donia softened. "For your sake, Governor, I'll overlook her disrespect. But I wish to discuss this planet's issues with you."
"I'd welcome effective communication with the Mechanicus," Alex nodded, unsure of Donia's intent but open to dialogue.
Ovilia, still bristling, held her tongue, recognizing her earlier outburst.
The trio left the starport for the orbital elevator.
Meanwhile, Merlin, yet to depart, noticed the forge ship. He delayed his voyage, uneasy about Alex's plan to hire Tech-Priests from other forge worlds. It could balance influence but risked a Mechanicus "academic exchange"—their traditional, contentious debates.
Hiring from a third forge world for an orbital ring could escalate tensions further.
(End of Chapter)
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