The Phantom in the machine

[Sociable Stream]

OK, so in what im estimating is 3 hours ill be posting my first fictional story about the after affects of the scrap code. If you haven't read Mechanicum, you'll probably have a hard time Understanding whats happening, The story follows the ill fated adventure of Darius and his friend Argyle after the discovery of a cargo ship crashed in the wasteland of Mars. With the help of 6 others they attempt to salvage to untouched treasure trove of imperial weaponry and the possibility of restoring the ship is becoming more enticing with every turn. But deep in the bowels of the ship, something is waiting to be found...

[Sociable Stream]

A few notes before the story begins Scrap Rats* are not actually part of the warhammer 40k universe, they are a fictional creature only existing in the wasteland around the fictional location of Scrap Town. This of course is were it takes place, Scrap Town is in theory located lets say several miles from the original location of the typhoon causeway. Habs (plural) are, if im correct, the equivalent of apartment complexes. Suggestions are welcome as is feedback. No hate this is only my first story. If you have a better explanation for the excess scrap recovered from magma city or even the fate of the lands surrounding Magma city please message me.

Without further Introduction Part 1 of 3.
1830 Words.

Part 1: Into the wastes.

Darius Purcell Scratched his clean shaven head as the terminal screen flashed twice before him. A Partially Constructed servitor skull began to pulse with a red glow and began to shakily lift off the cluttered work bench. The Gravity field generator began to vibrate while tendrils of smoke poured from the mouth. Before Darius could power it down the cursed machine thumped loudly on the table. The Servitor Skull before him was the result of 2 weeks worth of effort and the cannibalization of 3 similar Servitor Skulls. But now it sat just as useless as when he found it, With some more time and a little more Scavenging the Servitor could be fully functional in one week, two weeks, three?
Darius rubbed his Goatee trying to calculate the amount of time it would take. Eventually he resigned to powering down the terminal and removing the mess of cables from the skulls rear plug-ins. Rubbing the tired from his eyes he set about cleaning and replacing the tools to their proper place on the wall above his work area. He smiled at the amassed collection, with a sigh he stood.
He took to his bed which was surrounded by a mess of parts and bits of electronics, he pulled a piece of metal from under his back throwing it onto the floor with a groan. His eyes began to grow heavy and finally the 22 year old drifted off to sleep.
A knock on the steel door resonated through his mind and body filling the cluttered room with sound. Jumping in his Bed he stood and walked to the door with a stagger; his fingers clumsily found the control panel and quickly pressed a button on the keypad. Darius cleared his throat and spoke.
“Yes? Who is it?”
With a sigh the intruder responded.
“Darius open the door”
Darius nearly grinned with the lack of enthusiasm from the voice.
“Whats the password?”
There was a noticeable pause as Darius waited for a response.
“Darius you have very little time before I kick the door in”
With a sigh of resignation Darius opened the unlocked door, Standing shoulders slumped was his longtime friend.
“Argyl to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Argyl rolled his eyes and fought the urge to draw his beam pistol.
“You know why I’m here, why in the eye of terror aren’t you ready?”
Darius paused quickly trying to remember what it was his friend was referring to. It was then that he took notice of the empty rucksack resting by the door. With a sigh he returned to the one room Hab for his gear while Argyl checked his rebreather in frustration. The motion of gathering the black rucksack and single bolt rifle was a practiced one. Wearing the same clothing from the night before, he laced his boots threw a patched red robe over his clothes and within within five minutes Darius was ready sheathing a hand made combat knife and slammed a full clip of ammunition into the auto loader of his bolt rifle. With a sidelong glance at his terminal the two walked into the cramped Hallway.


A five minute walk followed, most of which was through a long corridor of dirty uniform steel doors that occasionally boasted a child's drawing. As the two finally reached the entrance they waited patiently for the airlock to fill with breathable air. The large Steel doors slid open as 3 dirt covered Hab dwellers entered the corridor removing their re-breathers. From their they entered the unpaved street, over head lamps struggled to keep the area visibly flickering every few seconds, drunks patrolled the street in pairs struggling to keep one another upright through bits of singing and laughter.
The two walked onward.
The robes Darius wore flapped in the cold air as the martian soil was carried through the air by the ever increasing torrents of wind. Darius glanced at a dead Hive Ganger lying in the drainage ditch and was rewarded by a screech from a scrap rat* nibbling furiously at the cadavers ear.
By the time the two came to the edge of the slum the street lamps had gone out. Tendrils of light crested over the horizon thawing bits of ice accumulated from the night that was now ending . Five Skittari stood guard at the gate just as they always had, an auto turret mounted on one side of the gate tracked a low flying horn beetle as it lazily made its way past the wall. The faceless automatons stood ready to protect the settlement. Despite their initial beginnings as human decades of enhancements and modifications to their bodies had turned them into mindless warriors of mars.
A large sweeping beam of light passed over both of them from a glass view port above the gate. The passes implanted in their arms allowed them to travel freely between the wastes and the slum that was Junk Town. The large Titanium door pushed open revealing the vast trek of scrap heaps and desert. A shudder passed through Darius as the wind that normally broke over the wall was now channeled through the narrow entrance entrance.

It was long in the process of picking through mountains of crap, fighting off feral servitors and battling the unpredictable weather of the wasteland that the two scavengers had come across something big.
Argyl led them down a winding path following a display checking the screen in his positioning unit every few minutes. They wound themselves past pools of glowing green water, Bleached skeletons, and a Feral Servitor. Darius stopped periodically to collect something from a mound or to root around a pile of scraped electronics. Although nothing of importance or value was revealed he manged to find the holster to a Pistol which he pocketed with a prayer of thanks to Omnissiah.

In annoyance of the chronic stops Argyl called out.
“Can we get their before the sands shift?!”

Darius hurried along, the morning stretched on but after an hour of solid marching they were there. The large unassuming Dune of red soil gave little indication of what it contained. It was by pure mistake that in the course of scaling the side Argyl discovered (or tripped on) the airlock to a Reasonably sized space craft.

The airlock provided a temporary base camp, already stored were various bits of electronics and Bleached skulls collected from the first few rooms of the ship. As Argyl sealed the hatch, Darius flipped a switch and the micro fusion generator sputtered into life. The Airlock being rather spacious allowed the two to stand with ease. Darius removed his robe in favor of his patchy Brown work pants, and an unassuming flame resistant shirt. He rested his Rifle against the bulkhead and moved his knife to his belt.
Argyl busied himself with the generator and checking the provisions that were stored five days before. Darius was in the process of opening the hatch leading to the ship when Argyl handed him a light torch. With a grunt Darius disappeared through the hatch.
The ship interestingly enough had landed, or crashed, almost completely upright, making the walk easier than in all rights it should have been. 20 or so feet from the airlock the hall had two side doors leading directly of to the left and right. Darius walked further along knowing they were completely empty, around another 20 or so feet from the airlock he found the door leading to the cargo hold. The door off to the right side led to the upper deck but Darius chose to ignore it for now turning his attention back to the cargo hold.

He slid back Large rusted lever that was connected to the auto release mechanism, The Gears within the door screamed loudly and the door fell straight into the floor with a noise loud enough to wake the dead, dust was thrown in the air with a mini explosion. He could have sworn he heard a far of curse but quickly denounced it. As the ringing in his ears subsided Darius found himself standing on the cat walk surrounding a large room filled with crates. He tentatively rested his hand on the railing bordering the cat walk as he looked into the room.

He estimated that the room was around 100-200 ft Long and over what looked to be 80 feet across, the proportions of the ship were almost completely off, but then again he never was good with estimations. From were he stood he took Count of the crates, around 100 decent sized Metal crates and 6 very large ones stacked at the very end of the room. He carefully made his way down Glow torch in hand, for the most part the staircase was intact save the last step that he carefully stepped over. He walked in front of two crates examining them thoroughly. Along the side was a very dusty plate containing bits of Binary, from what he gathered the final destination was Magma City. Darius thought back and came to the conclusion that the ship was over far older than he had originally thought. He would have to thoroughly check the ships logs and telemetry of the ships crash or landing, to confirm his theory but until then... His heart just about burst through his chest as he thought excessively of what the crates may or may not contain. He found the release Lever and pulled it hard, tearing away years of rust and and grime. The side fell out revealing smaller more manageable plastic cases.
One by one each were take from the container and neatly stacked to the side, He hung the lantern on the release lever and sat inside the container tools at the ready. Theses particular cargo containers at one point featured auto seal Technology, a very costly improvement to the safety of the contents but one any scavenger such as himself would pray for. His hand worked expertly unscrewing the bolts from the side. The case was roughly 12' by 6' inches and opened with a pressured hiss. Inside was a bolter pistol fully assembled with a single empty clip inside. His heart did a back flip as he admired the skill put into the creation of this marvelous device. He quickly removed the lids of two other 12' by 6' cases and discovered two perfectly similar Pistols.

He quickly moved on to another crate finding this time smaller crates of shiny brass bullets. In another he found Several completed Servitor skulls . His mouth watered at the discovery and he made mental note of its location. It was then he spotted an even larger cache of weaponry. Argyl stepped through the door and let out an audible whistle. He called out to Darius.
“Anything worth the trip”
There was what sounded like laughter.
“Just about”