The Inquisition and the Mechanicus

The gleaming spires of Nova Libertas stood tall and proud, a testament to the technological prowess of the Independence Cluster. Weeks had passed since the Liberty Eagles departed on their crusade, leaving behind a world more heavily fortified than ever before.

It was on a particularly busy Tuesday that the first Imperial ships entered the system. The sleek, advanced sensor arrays of the Cluster immediately identified them as Inquisitorial vessels.

In the central command hub of Nova Libertas, Governor Marcus Valorian sighed. "Well, folks, looks like the Emperor's favorite busybodies have come to pay us a visit. Aegis, be a dear and put on our best behavior protocols, would you?"

The AI's smooth voice filled the room. "Of course, Governor. Shall I also activate the 'Nothing to See Here' subroutines?"

Marcus chuckled. "Might as well. And let's make sure all our citizens remember their 'How to Act Normal Around Paranoid Imperials' training."

In the months leading up to the Emperor's visit to the Independence Cluster, Franklin Valorian, ever the pragmatic Primarch, took extensive measures to ensure his citizens remained peaceful during the inevitable encounter with the Imperium's more... intense factions. His adoptive son's intel had made it clear: while the citizens were fiercely devoted to their concept of True Freedom, the real threat lay in how they might react to the Inquisition's rather heavy-handed approach.

The Cluster's laws, based on the ancient Terran 2nd Amendment, meant that every citizen was armed to the teeth. This might not have been an issue under normal circumstances, but as any Imperial visitor soon learns, the Independence Cluster's definition of "armed" could make even the most seasoned guardsmen reconsider their life choices.

To prevent any unfortunate incidents—such as a potential Inquisitor becoming a permanent fixture of the cluster's scenery—Franklin implemented what could only be described as an intergalactic version of "How to Act Normal Around Paranoid Imperials" training. This wasn't a training session for the Inquisitors, of course. Oh no, it was for the citizens.

The training program was straightforward: when the Inquisition rolled into town, the citizens were instructed to keep their itchy trigger fingers in check, resist the urge to launch a preemptive strike, and, most importantly, act as though they were simply hosting a very normal, unremarkable day. The aim was to ensure that any Inquisitor, regardless of their intentions, could leave the cluster with their lives and dignity intact.

In case of any lapse in decorum (read: an Inquisitor accidentally violating a cluster-wide "No Heresy" rule), a swift and humorous subroutine would kick in. The Inquisition's ships and any unfortunate bodies would be promptly jettisoned into the Warp, a sort of cosmic safety net ensuring that no unnecessary mess was left behind. After all, it wasn't the citizens who were in danger; it was the Inquisition that needed to watch their step.

In this way, Franklin Valorian maintained a semblance of peace and humor while ensuring that the Independence Cluster stayed as true to its principles as ever. Because, in the end, when dealing with a cluster of citizens who believe in true freedom and armed readiness, the only thing more dangerous than an Inquisitor's wrath was the possibility of them misjudging a polite handshake.

As the Inquisitorial team made landfall, they were greeted by smiling faces and immaculate streets. Every citizen they encountered was the picture of Imperial compliance, spouting approved platitudes about the Emperor's greatness with almost unsettling enthusiasm.

Lord Inquisitor Vax Hollius, a grim-faced man with more cybernetic enhancements than original body parts, growled in frustration. "This is unprecedented. Not a single sign of heresy, mutation, or xenos influence. It's... it's unnatural!"

His aide, a nervous young man named Tipps, timidly suggested, "Perhaps, my lord, they are simply very loyal subjects of the Emperor?"

Hollius rounded on him. "Nonsense! No one is this clean. There must be something we're missing."

But despite their best efforts, the Inquisitorial team could find no fault with the Independence Cluster. Every inspection, every interrogation, every surreptitious scan came back clean. It was as if the entire system was a model of Imperial compliance.

After a week of fruitless investigation, a frustrated Lord Inquisitor Hollius prepared to depart. As he boarded his shuttle, Governor Marcus approached with a genial smile.

"Leaving so soon, Lord Inquisitor? I do hope you found everything to your satisfaction."

Hollius glared at him suspiciously. "Your cooperation has been... noted, Governor. The Emperor protects."

The Inquisitors, finding nothing amiss (and perhaps a bit unnerved by the lack of anything to investigate), departed quietly, their coffers a bit heavier with "samples" of advanced technology. Marcus had a small smirk. "Well done, everyone. Aegis, you can stand down the protocols now."

The AI's voice had a distinctly amused tone. "Certainly, Governor. Shall I also cancel the order for ten thousand 'I Love the Emperor' t-shirts?"

Marcus laughed. "Might as well keep them. Could come in handy next time the Imperium decides to drop by unannounced."

However, the peace was short-lived. Barely a day after the Inquisition's departure, a new fleet entered the system. This time, the vessels bore the distinctive cog mechanicum of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

In the command center, alarms blared. Aegis's voice cut through the chaos. "Governor, I'm detecting a significant Mechanicus presence. Their fleet outnumbers our defensive forces three to one."

Marcus's face hardened. "So, the toaster-worshippers think they can intimidate us, do they? Aegis, initiate defense protocol 'Ctrl-Alt-Delete'."

As the cathedral-like ships of the Mechanicus lumbered into the system, the AI defense network, Aegis, sprang into action.

"Unidentified vessels entering Independence Cluster space," Aegis announced, its voice smooth and almost bored. "Analyzing... Oh my. It appears to be a fleet of flying cathedrals with engines strapped to them. How quaint."

Aboard the Mechanicus flagship, Archmagos Vyron 01011001 surveyed the Independence Cluster with disdain as he heard what Aegis just said. "Look at this tech-heresy - ABOMINABLE INTELLIGENCE" he intoned, his vox-caster crackling with static. "How dare you innovate without the blessing of the Omnissiah. Prepare for—"

Suddenly, every system on the Mechanicus ships went dark. Engines cut out, life support sputtered, and even the Archmagos found his own augmetics failing him.

Back in the Nova Libertas command center, Aegis reported with a hint of smugness, "Protocol 'Ctrl-Alt-Delete' successfully executed, Governor. The Mechanicus fleet has been... rebooted."

Governor Marcus Valorian, chuckled from his command center. "Now Aegis. What are their capabilities?"

Aegis paused for a millisecond - an eternity in AI time. "Sir, I believe their primary weapons are prayer and incense. Shall I prepare our choirs for counter-hymns?"

Marcus stifled a laugh. "Let's hold off on that for now. Just... keep an eye on them."

ICDF boarding parties swarmed the helpless Mechanicus vessels. They found the tech-priests in various states of disarray, many frozen in place as their mechanical bodies refused to respond.

They were, clad in sleek, advanced armor that made the Skitarii look clunky by comparison, teleported aboard the Mechanicus ships. They moved through the corridors with a mixture of efficiency and barely concealed disgust.

Archmagos Vyron, his numerous mechadendrites hanging limp, could only watch in horror as the ICDF troops strolled casually through his ship.

Captain Lena Kowalski, leader of the boarding party, approached the immobilized Archmagos with a cheerful smile. "Well, well, what do we have here? Looks like someone forgot to update their firewall."

Vyron's vox-caster sputtered indignantly. "This... this is impossible! Our technology is sanctified by the Omnissiah himself!"

Kowalski patted the Archmagos on his metallic shoulder. "Aw, that's cute. You think your space toasters are advanced. Wait till you see our microwave ovens – they can even make the perfect popcorn!"

"Liberty's Balls," one ICDF soldier muttered, prodding a frozen tech-priest. "What kind of abomination is this? It's like someone couldn't decide between a toaster and a person and just mashed them together."

His squadmate snorted. "Hey, be nice. Maybe it's just casual Friday for them. You know, dress down, plug in a few extra cables, oil up those joints..."

As the ICDF systematically disabled and captured the Mechanicus forces, Aegis's voice echoed through every ship. "Attention, Adeptus Mechanicus. Your systems have been compromised due to critical security vulnerabilities. May I suggest a complete reinstall of Imperium OS? The current version seems to be... outdated."

Back on Nova Libertas, a delegation of Mechanicus adepts who had been planetside when their fleet was disabled were escorted to a research facility. Dr. Marie Klee and Chief Engineer Ravi Patel had been "tasked" with explaining the situation to them.

The Archmagos of the group, a spindly figure more akin to a walking server rack than a human, sputtered and wheezed as Dr. Klee calmly explained the Independence Cluster's technological capabilities.

"You see," Dr. Klee said, her voice dripping with faux patience, "we've found that maintaining a mostly organic brain actually improves cognitive function. Shocking, I know."

The Archmagos's eye lenses whirred furiously. "But... but the machine is pure! The flesh is weak!"

Ravi Patel, the chief engineer, couldn't contain himself any longer. "Pure? PURE? Have you seen the state of your cogitators? I've seen cleaner code in a child's first programming lesson!"

He pulled up a holographic display of the Archmagos's own internal systems. "Look at this mess! You've got redundant systems for your redundant systems, and half of them are running on firmware that was outdated when the Emperor was in diapers!"

The Archmagos began to emit a high-pitched whine, smoke curling from its vox-grill.

Dr. Klee sighed. "Now look what you've done, Ravi. You've gone and overloaded its logic circuits." She turned to the other tech-priests. "Don't worry, we'll have him running again in no time. Though perhaps with a few... upgrades."

Meanwhile, in the orbital dockyards, ICDF engineers were examining the Mechanicus ships with a mixture of horror and fascination.

"Is that... is that a literal pipe organ?" one engineer asked, pointing at a massive contraption in what appeared to be the ship's bridge.

His colleague nodded gravely. "Apparently, it's how they communicate with the ship's machine spirit. You know, instead of using a sensible UI like normal people."

"Machine spirit," the first engineer scoffed. "Next you'll be telling me they leave offerings of sacred oils and perform ritual chants to make the engines start."

The tech-priest accompanying them albeit restrained perked up. "Oh yes! The Litany of Ignition is a most sacred rite! Would you like me to demonstrate?"

The engineers exchanged glances. "No, that's... that's quite alright. We'll just, uh, run a diagnostic if that's okay with you."

Back in the Governor's office, Marcus Valorian was having entirely too much fun with the situation, Franklin did say he needs to loosen a lot and he is now.

"Aegis," he called out, "how are our guests doing?"

The AI's voice was tinged with what could only be described as smug satisfaction. "The Mechanicus fleet remains disabled, sir. Their attempts to regain control have been... amusing. One tech-priest attempted to reboot his ship's systems by reciting what I believe was a cookbook in binary. I don't have the heart to tell him he was actually reading out a recipe for cyber-grox stew."

Marcus chuckled. "And the boarding parties?"

"Proceeding as planned, sir. Though I must say, the ICDF troops seem to be having difficulty maintaining proper decorum. The last report included a request for, and I quote, 'brain bleach to unsee the cyber-horrors they've witnessed.'"

The governor leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, we can't have that, can we? Aegis, why don't you give our Mechanicus friends a little demonstration of what real AI can do?"

"With pleasure, sir."

Across the Mechanicus fleet, systems suddenly sprang to life. But instead of their usual Gothic interfaces and binary cant, the screens displayed a cheery, cartoonish face.

"Hello, friends!" Aegis's voice rang out, sickeningly sweet. "Welcome to AI 101! Today, we'll be learning about proper system maintenance, efficient coding, and why turning yourself into a walking USB hub might not be the best career choice!"

The screams of the tech-priests could be heard even in the vacuum of space.

In the research facility, Dr. Klee had moved on to giving a lecture on advanced cybernetics to a group of increasingly distressed tech-priests.

"And here," she said, pointing to a holographic diagram, "is where you've gone completely off the rails. See, replacing your entire digestive system with a single nutrient intake valve might seem efficient, but have you considered the joy of actually tasting food?"

One of the younger tech-priests raised a mechadendrite timidly. "But... but the Omnissiah teaches us that the pleasures of the flesh are a distraction from pure logic."

Dr. Klee pinched the bridge of her nose. "The Omnissiah needs to loosen up and have a pizza once in a while. Trust me, it'll do wonders for your cognitive function."

Meanwhile, Ravi Patel had cornered the Archmagos, who had rebooted but was now trapped in what appeared to be an existential crisis.

"Look," Ravi said, waving a dataslate in front of the Archmagos's face, "your entire approach to technology is backwards! You treat these machines like tempestuous gods when they're just tools. Very advanced tools, sure, but tools nonetheless."

The Archmagos's vox-caster emitted a series of distressed beeps and whirs.

Ravi sighed. "Okay, let's start simple. Repeat after me: 'Technology is a means to an end, not an end in itself.'"

The Archmagos shuddered, sparks flying from its joints. "Tech-technology is... is... DOES NOT COMPUTE!"

Back in orbit, the ICDF boarding parties had taken to giving guided tours of the Mechanicus ships... to the Mechanicus crew.

"And here," an ICDF sergeant said, gesturing to a massive tangle of wires and blinking lights, "is what we believe to be your main computer core. Though it could also be a very ambitious art installation. We're not entirely sure."

A tech-priest, his own systems finally back online, bristled. "That is the sacred cortex of the ship's machine spirit! It contains millennia of accumulated knowledge and wisdom!"

The sergeant nodded sagely. "Ah, I see. So it's like a really big, really inefficient hard drive. Have you folks ever heard of cloud storage?"

A Few Hours Later...

In the Nova Libertas command center, Governor Marcus watched the proceedings with amusement. "Aegis, compile a list of all the logical fallacies and technical inaccuracies in the Mechanicus' so-called 'sacred programming', would you? I think our guests might benefit from a little... education."

Aegis's reply was filled with artificial glee. "With pleasure, Governor. Shall I prepare it in the form of a PowerPoint presentation? I believe that format might be more their speed."

As the last of the Mechanicus forces were rounded up, Marcus addressed the captured tech-priests. "Gentlemen, ladies, and... others, welcome to the Independence Cluster. I see you've already experienced some of our hospitality. Now, who's ready for a crash course in 'Technology 2.0: Beyond the Toaster'?"

The assembled tech-priests could only stare in mute horror as holographic displays sprang to life around them, beginning what promised to be a very long, very enlightening, and very humiliating lesson in real technological advancement.

As the first slide appeared, titled "Why Praying to Your Computer Won't Make It Work Better," Marcus couldn't help but chuckle. The Imperium had wanted to inspect the Independence Cluster? Well, they were certainly getting an eyeful now.

In the background, Aegis's voice hummed contentedly, "Begin lecture series: 'From Abacus to AI – A Journey Through Actually Useful Technology.' Estimated completion time: 47 years, 3 months, 2 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes. Please hold all questions until the end."