Primordium Myrkul's Story

A connection of power welled up above a plaza as a psychoportation locus pushed its way in through from Aetherius. It was a clean but growing pinprick of light unlike the vulgar tear that was a connection to the warp. In this way all the lesser beings of Myrkul's Vein traveled between worlds. They hadn't a need for starships for themselves and Primordium certainly did not. Some seconds later a humanoid clad all in dark grey ferroplasm armor and a brand new forest green cloak folded into reality. The nearly ten foot tall being slammed into the stone raising up with a staff softly ticking angular channels at its top as well as the surface of its substance. On the back of its cloak a large golden sigil of the Imperium of Man.

The metal did not creak as it looked down to cracked stone for the patterns trundling in its armor were well wrought. Its eyes narrowed at the cracked stone beneath it as the bottom of its staff clacked and rung until the cracks had been hammered away. The stone, a simple work of Mankind, was once again perfect. Other more complex works it had little experience with however it had learned of allies that may assist in its task to create the new template for the displaced souls of space marines as Jinhai investigate the chaos marine purged of noxious contaminants by a Mada.

Myrkul hadn't much knowledge of Segmentum Solaris so the armored figure of two sparkling eyes looked around to write more fresh pages into the Almanac. It sought the ones known as Technomancers and their altar to the Omnissiah. The locus attracted to a large concentration of mankind but little more direct. Primordium would need first to figure out where it was.

As the ship bearing the sigil of the Imperium of Man entered Imperium space, a massive fleet of ships were already waiting. It had been a while since the Imperium secured this part of the galaxy, there were many defenses already instilled to deliver enough firepower to combat any invasion from any hostile force. Of course with the ship, a vox hail would come in. "Attention, you are now entering Imperial space. State serial and designation, if carrying cargo wait for inspection." The automated voice spoke as the ships were on guard.

Of course even to allied ships they had to be careful, they had to ensure that nothing was amiss.

The small bipyramid shape remained where it arrived barely 10m from top to bottom. Surface of that shape the same mottled grey and white stone as the what Primordium stood upon. Psistone and ferroplasm mix for thermal stability. Myrkul had no concept of technology as the Imperium constructed it. This mobile platform was merely a means to an end to solve its issues psychoporting to the vastness of space. The Overbeing lacked the knowledge to interpret their technology with which to create a new vessel for humankind. However, they borrowed and duplicated quite well.

Primordium removed a Vox handset from inside its robe as the ripple of contained air flowed from the floor it stood on to gather around its head. The ship little more than a venue for shifting from point to point under motile forces split along its luminous center plane to reveal a figure clad in grey armor clothes drifting idly in zero gravity. Over nine feet tall it stood on the filled lower half. Most subbeings of Myrkul did not breathe but they were aware they needed air to employ the vox communicator.

The voice also came by astropath to anyone listening though its vox response adopted a distinct high gothic accent for its inner moniker, "Psychomancer subbeing of Myrkul's Vein by its mind be known to astropaths as [unintelligible noise representing a psychic name]. As Myrkul's vein is a tool of the the Living Emperor of Mankind so as a chant in its mind thus am I. You may call me Primordium. I wish to discuss the Living Emperor's business with technomancers. I do not shame the Emperor with a need for unnecessary external possessions."

Primordium understood the nature of automated responses to a very limited degree but likely overestimated the breadth of their ability to adapt.

"Response received, member of Myrkul's Vein accepted....Patching..." The automated voice responded as an Imperial Captain soon took over the Vox Transmition. "Attention Primordium, we have recived your request to speak with...our technomancers..." The captain spoke as he already pieced together it meant Tech-preists. Those that dabbled in the machines. "You request will be granted. Feel free to proceed past this point, Mars is a sacred place but if it relates to the Emperor it is the most private place to hold discussion about such a thing." The captain spoke.

The voice seemed almost surprised, "It seems unusual to take the name of Aetherkind's servants for their duties but I hold no ill judgement to them. Tech-priests then. Little is contained of them in the Almanac the Jinhai have not interacted with them. I am thankful for your service to the Living Emperor, Humankind. Honor to Him and sacred places under his protection."

The bipyramid closed once more the light flashing once as the ship sealed together once more the Almanac expanding as its awareness did. Edges of the platform lit as Primordium directed it through space by extending his will into the mote-bound psychic manifold underneath him. The mottled stone diamond accelerated quickly as it curved away through the line of ships. The notion of a ship was largely alien to Myrkul but they did their best essentially making a Black Storm platform that could locomote. Lacking any need to preserve an atmosphere the designs were not dissimilar.

None of the Segmentum Solaris space was known to Myrkul so it proved difficult to move subbeings directly. There were protections he assumed as well, these Gellar Fields, or perhaps void shields, that interfered quite handily with largely non aggressive designs of psychoportation loci. His awareness spread through the psionic field mapping as he went.

Primordium reached out to the points of contact lighting up the dark here signalling with intent to reach one among the identity of Mars. They were not interconnected like Jinhai but he was aware these astropaths spoke to each other much the same. He would need to establish a method to speak to them. The concept amused Primordium of interacting with so many viable individuals of Humankind even if it were less efficient. This machine he was given could work but he didn't know how to seek conversation through it, only respond. Its lack of mutability profoundly confused Primordium and while he could hear the pattern of energy inside it moving his intellect could not make sense of the mechanics.

Primordium busied itself within the ship to emerge in due time after given leave to land on Mars. There were many preparations to make and a design digestible by humankind to manufacture. And so a bipyramid sat quietly where it was set perfectly balanced on one point. Only the trundle of ticking gears one would see through the dense layers of ferroplasm mesh forming its lower exterior. Periodic bursts of swirling red dust leaps from nearby terrain to flow through the exterior as Primordium gathers materials for mineral paper. The Core gate was a massive undertaking even for Myrkul and if the Mechanicus were willing it would involve them if able. Volumes and volumes of bound red mineral paper festooned in steel filigree common to human texts, as much as it remembered, even if they were schematics. Its script in embedded carbon stretched to describe the angular and straight lines of gearwork and careful organization of structure potentials. Most of the manuals resembled hymnals and ritual as a creature of the first machine had much the same behavior toward its craft. If one born more of actual psychic modalities to reset or repair malfunctioning patterns within the core gate. One could plan for damage but never fully eliminate it though theirs machines that indeed one could design the equipment to respond to the right collective thoughts.

After a good amount of time Primordium left its craft the environs scrubbed clean of dust if not the rust that came with some portions of this place so aged. Large ceramic tiles formed with a wave of staff topped with strange angles to leap from dust and walls to under metal boots. Bricks mounted permanent support underneath formed of loose detritus nearby. As tall as a space marine the faceless Primordium looked about with two curious spark-eyes for a Mechanicus to intercept as to deliver its offer. A tightly tethered rectangle of books large and small as if a huge tome even straining its own arms.