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(So, I've been away a while and pretty much abandoned the hobby while I'm busy with examinations, but I like to write a bit of fiction and I haven't done anything 40k in a while. 'Ere we go! )

It was dark across the face of Merdis Prime as the factories, foundries, and power plants belched smoke, steam, and other fumes into the air from their great chimneys. A dark, sickly ceiling of noxious fumes covered the entire world, blocking sunlight even at high noon almost entirely. The Forgeworld's surface was a sprawling mass of tangled, spiny and unwelcoming buldings, mostly grey concrete and metal, interrupted here and there with patches of rust and blinking lights.

The main continent of Merdis Prime housed a massive munitions factory that produced ammunition for everything from Earthshakers to laspistols. It was enormous, much of it simply empty space, it was permanently dark inside, lit only sparsely by lamps and the flickering screens of data banks. The factory was patrolled by Skitarii warriors, but they stayed in the shadows high above the factory floor, not needing light to observe their surroundings. Instead they relied on ocular implants that gave them excellent night vision.

One such warrior, his name long forgotten by all save himself, marched rigidly with machine-like precision across a walkway maybe a hundred meters above an assembly line that was producing lasgun power cells. His 'eyes' adjusted to the bright sparks of the welders below him as he observed the servitors and servo-skulls monitoring the process.

He looked back up, facing straight ahead, and marched on towards the opposite side of the massive room, where a strange device was fixed to the wall. It had many strange cables and other medical devices attached. The warrior allowed himself a brief smile and turned about, backing into the mass of mechanical limbs. Suddenly the strange rig sprang to life, parts whirring and grinding, forcing their way into his red robes and connecting to his body.

As he stood transfixed by the mass of machinery lights began to flash behind him, then with a horrible bubbling sound and a muffled screech of pain from the Skitarii, it was over. The limbs, claws, and needles retracted from his body, leaving him crouched on the ground., Slowly, his muscular body spasming with shock, he rose to his feet.

Sigma-Two returned to his patrol.

(Part Two)

Servitors 107 through 279 worked tirelessly on the power cell line, their leaden grey faces unmoving even when they were scorched by sparks coming from the machinery. Their only semblance of true life was given to them by machines, their articulated spinal frames and endoskeletal reinforcements forcing their ghoulish forms to work.

Servo skulls hovered slowly overhead, monitoring to ensure nothing went wrong, checking the status of each servitor, oiling and repairing damaged parts of the assembly line. One of the servo skulls was watching Servitor 112, then, as it's computer programming dictated, it moved on to the next servitor in line.

But Servitor 113 was not there.

In the place it once occupied by the assembly line, there was a pool of mixing fluids, the servo skull analyzed them and detected oils and coolants used in servo-maintenance. The servo skull's programming determined that Servitor 113 had most likely been destroyed or at the very least heavily damaged by an unknown assailant. The little machine began to transmit a warning signal, a tiny red LED on its temple flashing on and off.

Then, without warning; a booming, roaring howl ripped through the atmosphere inside the enormous factory. There was the sound of a small explosion, and all that remained of the transmitting servo skull was a pile of shattered machinery and a few bone fragments. A guard in that part of the factory descended to the floor in an elevator, stepping into the pool of light surrounding the assembly line. He examined the pool of fluids, then the remains of the servo skull.

The Skitarii spread the fragments across the floor, examining them for signs of how the servo skull had been destroyed, and there it was, underneath part of the servo skull's CPU.

A bolter shell casing. For a second the Skitarii contemplated this, then examined further. He could just make out semi-microscopic writing on the object. He transmitted this information from his ocular implant and awaited instructions.

However, while he stood and waited, a metallic scraping sound alerted the Skitarii to a presence above and in front of him. he looked up into the shadows and saw, on one of the lower walkways, a hulking figure holding something above him. Suddenly the figure hurled the object it held down on the guardian, crushing him with its weight.

And there on the factory floor lay the remains of Servitor 113 tangled with the limp and broken form of Sigma-Four. He groaned, a harsh, grating sound, caused by his vocal implants. Then the figure above him disappeared into darkness. The Skitarii Sigma-Four tried to transmit a warning, but just as he began to record his voice message, the figure re-appeared in the light around the assembly line, standing imperiously over Sigma-Four.

The figure raised an arm casually. A pale gauntlet squeezed a trigger. And Sigma-Four's life was ended. The unknown being lifted the Skitarii guardian's mangled corpse with one huge armored fist, and hurled it away into the shadows at the far wall of the huge room. Mechanical parts and armor clattered and robes flapped as the corpse glided in a sickening parody of acrobatics towards the iron wall.

By the time Sigma-Two and Sigma-One arrived, the murderer had gone, Sigma-Four was nowhere to be found, and Servitor 113's ruin had been cast into the assembly line, jamming a waste grinder and stopping the entire line, cogs groaned and bolts began to loosen, then without warning the entire line erupted in chaos, servitors and servo skulls alike whipped and crushed by fragments of the assembly line. Servo-arms flew upwards, conveyor belts snapped and swung loose, bolts sprang forth like bullets from a gun.

And as the dust settled, Sigma-One and Sigma-Two rose up, sliding power cells into their hellguns.

"Code Red." Said Sigma-One solemnly. Sigma-Two nodded and they stepped slowly back towards the elevator.

nice, very nice, please continue.

That was good. I take it the attacker was a Chaos Marine? Heh. Yeah, pretty good. Are you writing more?

It'd be crazier if they were regular SM