Editing Story:ROAD TRIP! (Warhammer High)/Part Five (section)

===Just Like My Basement===


Venus peered over the array of arc welders in the insulated racks before them.  “How many dedicated stations are there for internal repair?” she asked the Iron Priest beside her.

“Four hundred, but some are dedicated to a specific task,” the Priest said.  The Wolf was so heavily modified with augmetics that Remilia was a little taken back, looking him over.  Didn’t the Wolves usually eschew such devices?

“Like Dreadnought maintenance?” Venus offered.

“Yes, that is one of them,” the Priest replied.  Venus nodded, looking at the welders with a master’s eye.  The electric arc contacts on most showed good maintenance and regular clearing, but a few looked like prized possessions, stripped of even the tiniest offending speck.  She couldn’t disapprove.
Behind them, Freya looked over a few pieces of armor that had been set aside for stripping and scrap.  A mixture of at least five different types of gear were present, including what sure looked like an ancient artificer-ed Type Four armor piece.  She wondered what sort of damage it had taken for the Legion to forego that relic.

Remilia walked up to her and joined her in staring at the armor.  “Wow.  Is that a Four?”

“It is.”  Freya leaned up to it, scanning the surface.  “Acid damage.  Must have been fighting some xenos filth with acid sacs.”

“Mmm.”  Remilia straightened up, looking at a small workstation beside the pile of armor bits.  The whole room was lit by brilliant lights set into the ceiling, with small sconces in the walls providing extra illumination.  Massive red and blue banners decorated the metal walls, covered in elaborate sayings in High Gothic and Juvjk.  The numbers Six and Two in binary and Gothic and Juvjk alike were everywhere.

“Sir Priest, may I ask?  What do the numbers six and two everywhere signify?” Jake inquired, clearly wondering about the same mystery as the girls.

“Ah.”  The Priest raised one mechadendrite to point at the tapestries and wall hangings.  “The number six is our Legion number, of course…and the two symbolizes the union of the Priests of the Iron and the Priests of the Red Planet, with whom we exchange our data and build our accoutrements of war.”

“Oh, I see.  My grandfather was a techpriest on Mars,” Jake offered.  “Canstrides Seminary.”

“I see.  Is that how you learned to read binary?  Most can’t,” the Iron Priest said.

“Well, I only know a few numbers,” Jake said modestly.

The Priest noted the girls’ scrutiny of the armor.  “Princess.  The armor was retrieved from a ship we took four weeks ago.”

“A ship?” Freya asked curiously.  “How do you mean?”

The Iron Priest walked up behind her, the echoes of his heavy footfalls muffled by the thick tapestries on the walls.  “We were awarded part of a Space Hulk to do with as we saw fit for a joint retrieval mission with the Skitarii.  We found some damaged armor components aboard.  As near as we can figure, they were looted from the fallen by a pirate, whose ship then collided with the Hulk as it attempted to enter the Warp.”

“How foul,” Freya said coldly.

The Iron Priest nodded.  “The fell hands of the Warp do not discriminate hero from parasite.”

Jake leaned over the armor pieces, careful not to touch them.  “Acid damage?”

“The battle in which they fought was against a race of xenos with chemical weapons,” the Priest said.  “Or so we believe.”

Behind them, Venus ran a familiar hand over the grip of an oversized contact welder gun.  “Good times,” she muttered to herself, ignoring the repartee between the Priest and the others.

“Pardon?” the Iron Priest asked, raising his voice a fraction to be heard.

“I recognize these.  Got one in my basement, too,” Venus said, flipping up a panel on the welder.  “Hmm.  Stygies 4.  Solid kit.”

Freya stood behind her, watching Venus’ detailed inspection with a grin.  “So, how does the hardware of the Rout live up to Salamander standards?” she asked under her breath.

Venus hid a grin.  The Iron Priest HAD to be listening.  “Acceptable,” she said.  “But the product is more important than the tool, certainly,” she added.  “Do you think Lord Bjorn would clear us to use the range if we asked?”

“Hadn’t thought to ask.  I should.”  Freya nodded sagely.  “When we get back tonight.”

“Sure thing,” Venus said, straightening up.  She turned to face the Priest.  “Iron Priest, thank you kindly for the tour,” she said.

“Honored, Princess,” the Priest said, in the stiff electronic tones of his kind.

As the group moved to go, however, the Priest stopped them.  “Princess Venus, perhaps you could share a bit of how the Tech-brothers in your own Legion work their forges,” he said politely.

Venus thought for a moment.  “Well…we have nine forges instead of one, of course…what do you mean specifically?” she asked.

“Whatever you wish to share,” the Iron Priest said with a shrug of his mechadendrites.  “Perhaps some of your methodologies?”

“Oh, well, sure,” Venus said.  “Let’s see…well, our principle forges are in the major cities, in the castles, plus one each in the wilds of Prometheus and Nocturne,” she explained.  “So that’s the big difference, that they’re in population centers instead of a fortress, by and large.”

“Ah.”  The Priest nodded.  “Is it a truth that every single one of your Legionnaires must memorize the schematics for the latest designs of carapace and Power armor?” he asked.  “I was told that once by a member of the Eighteenth when we fought together against the Dark Eldar on Felger’s Fortune, and barely believed it.”

“No, not quite,” Venus explained as the others listened in.  “Scouts need only memorize carapace armor and basic weapon schematics.  The things you have to retain get more complex as you ascend the ranks.  So a Seventh Company recruit would only need to know bolter pistols, carapace…maybe a few knives.  A Fire Drake would need to know Terminator armor, power armor, carapace, and about seventy different weapon designs.”

“I see.  We do things very differently indeed, then,” the Priest noted.  “Here, it is the Blood Claws who must undergo extensive trials of memory, while the Long Fangs and Wolf Scouts usually only bring such responsibilities upon themselves if they have Terminator honors.”

“Oh, interesting.  Why do you do it that way?” Venus asked.

“Because technologies of the sorts that we rely on every day simply aren’t a part of life for Fenrisians,” the Iron Priest said, his voice filter lending his words an unintentionally cold edge.  “We would have no Iron Priests at all if some Blood Claws did not manifest an increased interest in their workings and artifice while undergoing their training.”

Venus nodded.  “Yes, that’s true.  Well.  Thank you kindly for your tour and sharing your knowledge,” she said, bowing her head slightly.

“An honor indeed, Princess.  Thank you for visiting,” the Priest said, returning the gesture.  “Should you happen to encounter Tech-brother Ner’el, of your Sixth Reserve Company, pass along my reminder, if you would?”

“A reminder?” Venus asked, puzzled.

“His debt goes unpaid,” the Iron Priest said.  He noted Venus’ increasing confusion.  “Worry not, he will know of what I speak.  Enjoy your stay,” he said, turning back to his labors as if they had never been interrupted.

The group wended their way back to the lifts, pausing to allow Venus to drink in the details in a few places.

“Kid in a candy store,” Remilia chuckled.

“I know, right?” Venus said, staring at a partially-dismantled assault cannon case ejector.  “I’m afraid that if Kouthry has a machine shop I’ll just skip classes to hang out there with the mechanical engineering kids.”

“Hahahah!  Oh man, I can see that,” Jake laughed.  “That would scare the shit out of the teacher!”

“‘Oh no, a Salamander is here to judge our students!’” Alex pantomimed.

“‘My tenure!’” Jake continued, clutching at a phantom diploma.

Venus half-heartedly glared as the other four laughed.  “It’s not funny, damn it,” she muttered.  “We’re a very task-oriented Legion.”

“Ah, we’re just kidding,” Alex said, waving her concerns off.  Venus huffed.