In the Grim Dark Future of the 41st Millenium There Is Only Cringe

Annabeth, The Librarius Omnis of Mars

"One cannot consider the fate of a single man, nor ten, nor a hundred, nor a thousand. Billions will live or die by our actions here, and we have not the luxury to count the cost."
–Inquisitor Fidus Kryptman of the Ordo Xenos

"So no pressure, got it..."
–Inquisitor Annabeth Chase of the Ordo Hereticus

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Annabeth's frown deepened as she took in the wrecked workshop. Mechanicus servitors mindlessly milling about her crime scene was the last thing she wanted to see after losing five of her entourage to the labyrinth's defenses. Their sacrifices for the Imperium possibly rendered pointless by the lobotomized humans contaminating her best source of information.

Her brow furrowed at the thought. Forming deep lines that looked foreign on someone so young.

While a great many of her organization- her mother included -did not so much as blink at the expenditure of human lives regardless of the results, she always tried to avoid unnecessary loss of life when possible. And when life blood was shed, she did her Throne's best to make sure it was worth it.

She took a deep breath through her respirator- the polluted and radioactive atmosphere of Mars toxic to all base humans -and tucked a loose strand of curly blonde hair behind her ear. Her displeasure neutralized and contained, she stepped forward to make her presence known.

"Hello."

The augmented lobotomized humans instantly stopped in their tracks and fixed their various sensors and remaining eyes on her, and those armed for combat aimed their weapons at her. From behind her, she heard the Tempestus Scions she had recruited raise their own weapons in response. Most intelligent people would have felt uneasy about standing between two gunlines in a rather cramped environment, but Annabeth did not so much as bat an eye. She was certain the situation would not escalate any further. And in the rare chance she was wrong, there was not a doubt in her mind that the Imperium's special operations soldiers could dispatch the clumsy drones before they could fire a single shot.

"Identify yourself!" A raspy, augmented voice demanded from behind the congregation of servitors. A moment later the near-mindless servants of the Mechanicus shuffled aside, and a tech-priest clad in the traditional Martian red robes of the order scuttled forward on a myriad of spider-like mechanical legs. "Identify yourself!" It repeated with a deep wheeze.

Annabeth did not respond to the tech-priest's demands immediately, instead taking a moment to analyze whom she would be conversing with.

It- because there were no discernable gender characteristics -had no visible remaining human flesh, a trait relatively common with those who worshiped the Omnissiah and the Machine God. Its eyes had been cut away and replaced by a seemingly haphazard placement of auspex sensors that shone an electric blue, and a tangled mass of wires and tubes hung below where one would expect a mouth. It still possessed at least one lung, as every few seconds it wheezed or gurgled on the polluted air. She could not get an accurate count of its arms, as the mechanical limbs never stopped moving, but there were at least thirteen of them.

"Typical tech-priest," she whispered to herself, a slight smile tugging at her lips. Despite their zealotry for all things mechanical, the members of the Mechanicus often purely acted out of logic and reason rather than base instinct. And while some of her colleagues felt that made them harder to work with, she welcomed it. Fluttering her eyes, smiling, and twirling her hair to get her way was demeaning and a waste of her skills.