I'm not dead yet, readers. I had a great delay because my Notebook/Laptop broke, so I mostly wrote this on my cell phone. Thank you for all reviews that you left, they always give me a new strength to write. So I'll start by answering the ones that deserve an reply:

MrMorriss: Already fixed some problems in the last chapter, and I said that the ship was cramped, so it is really cramped. Calhouln will pick the pod on this chapter.

William Kincade: I explicitly said that 'Calhouln Pickle' isn't his tech-priest name, the real one was wiped.

Guest: He...already got an Omni-tool. He just needed it for hardware access.

Shypunk: Same of MrMorriss.

Thanks Luz, Nat, Synd for beta reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer, Mass Effect, nor anything that I will reference here, they belong to their respective owners.

"Speech"

'Thinking'

[Radio Communications]

++ Lingua Technis ++

++ Skitarii Lingua Technis ++

=System Messages=

BREAK

"I thought my situation was bad, but not that bad." I murmured under my breath, ruminating over the data in my Omni-tool. Even hours after I readed it, I was still somewhat incredulous. I had discovered that my… arrival on that planet was a possible temporal event, or even inter-dimensional of nature.

Mars without the Mechanicus and the Machine-God, Terra without the Omnissiah. Xenos running rampant in the galaxy, and humanity submitting to this 'Council' like slaves. It baffled as much it disgusted him.

"This is heresy without precedents…" I angrily murmured, my voice coming slightly distorted by how angry I still felt, "Who am I for complain about heresy?"

It has been three days and five point seventeen hours since I acquired the recently renamed Fledgling Spark from pirates and gone to orbit. I did a single flight back - I don't have much fuel to waste - to obtain the lifepod, something that I promptly disassembled. Electronic circuits, wiring, precious Ceramite and other metals are now in my possession.

This minuscule… shuttle, didn't have any kind of specialized machine that would aid me, only a small fabricator for ammo of the ex-crew weapons and some old repair tools.

I exhaled steam in quiet fury, before turning to the working table in front of me. The engineering had turned into my workshop and shrine of the Machine God, where I made his holy works and sacred rites. The corpse of one of the batarians lay on the table, pieces of electronics sticking out in numerous parts, metal also poking out of the flesh and a huge implant in the cranium like a helmet.

Turning corpses into Servitors was a very basic task to a Tech-Priest, unfortunately I lacked resources for a full fledged one, so I had to do a cheaper design, a Tech-Thrall, a corpse animated to be cannon fodder that can shoot.

The weapons that I collected were four pistols, two submachine guns and three rifles. A search in my Omni-tool later and I identified everything as M-3 Predator pistols, M-4 Shurikens and M-8 Avenger rifles, all being cheap and mass produced. After minutes studying them, these rifles and smgs would better suit the Thralls.

A few modifications later and I started to weld them in the Thrall arm. A small battery would power the implants, being able to recharge to a port installed in the ship, but it would only give at maximum two point one hours of operation.

++ Oh glorious machine, by the Omnissiah, live! I repeat, live! ++ I intoned the Rite of Activation, sacred oils and incense bathing the corpse. The two optics glowed red as my creation awakened.

=Status: Connection with TT-001 established.=

The Thrall vox frizzled with static before properly activating, ++ How can I serve? ++

++ Thank you noble machine spirit, your services will be of great help. Deactivate until further orders. ++

TT-001 did a stiff nod before shutting down. I had better things to do than waste energy with a Thrall.

Four point twenty hours later, I have more four Tech-Thralls made, one with rifle and three with submachine guns, 'At least now I have some firepower during any confrontation. And speaking of firepower…' I turned my attention to Mechadendrite 003, my Ballistic Lasgun, now fully operational. I was able to repair it very quickly, only a few minutes after disassembling the pod.

"What do I need to do? What should I do?" I questioned myself, I felt without… purpose. "Even doing all this, it's impossible to contact the Imperium and the Mechanicus. I found coordinates for a possible pirate den, but what after this?"

'Search priorities.'

=CRITICAL PRIORITY 1 A-A: Ensure preservation of Mankind.=

=CRITICAL PRIORITY 1 A-B: Ensure the continuation of Adeptus Mechanicus.=

"If the Mechanicus does not exist there… then I shall make it again, from scratch." I declared to myself with my objectives now set. I strode to the bridge with newfound confidence, and I quickly input the coordinates in the command table.

Fledgling engines lit to life and guided itself towards the edge of the system. It was a backwater system codenamed by myself as Zagan. Three planets, Yellow-Dwarf star. Zagan I is a barren rock and Zagan III is liquid lava, only Zagan II was habitable, the world that I was previously trapped in.

One thing that extremely confused me was the method of FTL travel that the races of this universe use. Numerous ancient structures function like portals, interligating each other like a web of gates and highways. A major flaw was the immense amount of choke points and systems that don't have these Mass Relays. My ship passed beside the xeno made structure, the energies of both interacted and Fledgling was catapulted into a mass-free corridor.

=Status: Calculating Travel Time. Analyzing Star Map data. Locating target system distance=

=ETA for arrival: 20.8 minutes.=

"At least I don't need to worry about the Enemy." I murmured, memories of being a Tech-Priest are still corrupted, but I could recall that windows would always need to be closed, or dying would be the least of your worries.

++ Tech-Thralls, head to cargo bay. ++ I commanded.

++ Acknowledged. ++

I had acquired valuable tactical information from the personal logs of the ex-captain. The pirate den is a small starbase built on an asteroid. A pirate gang, who also owned Fledgling Spark before I 'liberated' it, used it for dismantling stolen ships and sold the parts or raw materials in the Black Market. 'Omnissiah willing, I shall turn it into my base of operations.'

"Omnissiah willing indeed…"

BREAK

Fledgling Spark slipped out of the Relay Corridor upon reaching the system. The only thing I can see in the system is an asteroid belt and the star.. Strangely it has no planets, even with a star that commonly harbors planets with life.

I guided the ship forward, slowly approaching the belt. The ship's logs indicate that there's a small base hidden inside the belt. The lair has two gated docks and a bigger entrance covered by only atmospheric shielding, probably a dismantling bay.

[Hey Karok, here's Scrapper Base, ya copies?] A pirate called from the ship vox.

'Activate voice modulator protocol, target: Karok Gocsogan.'

=Status: Protocol Engaged.=

[Yeah, I'm 'ere. Found some good stuff on Rolff that ya indicated to us.] I answered, doing my best to imitate the dead xeno broken speech patterns, [We're going to need some help to unload it.]

The xeno in the other side of the line barked a laugh, [Aha! I knew that place would have good shit! You owe me twenty credits!]

I faked a groan while rolling my optics, [Alright, I'll pay ye when we land. Going silent now.] I turned off the audio and continued piloting.

I weaved through the asteroids as the base became much clearer. It looks just a step above a ork creation. Rust covers most of the blocky structure, with orangish paint trying to disguise it in the iron rich rocks. Four laser defence batteries serve as the only defense against enemy ships, 'If I had come as an invader, I surely would have been shredded.'

My ship approached one of the entrances, and the gate groaned and rumbled as it opened. The pirate lair barely has visible buildings from outside, but looking at it, I can see that it's good deeper into the asteroid. Inside the dock has connection slots, three Batarians, one avian looking alien which is called Turian, and surprisingly, two Humans. All wearing the same black and red armor, and in casual ease.

Crates and containers dotted the greyish floor, some with tools laid over them. I already could see heavy machinery, like forklifts. In the distance there's a ship that is at least the triple size of mine, eighty meters long, qualifying as a cruiser. It is already half disassembled, with the inner workings exposed and metal plates removed. Three of the pirates are working on it.

++ Open fire on my signal. ++

++ Acknowledged. ++

One of the Batarians approached with casual ease while holding a tiny vox caster, [Already lowering the ramp. Damn, got a malfunction. Wait a minute.] I lied while interrupting him, gaining a few more minutes.

'Initiate phase one.'

=Status: Processing=

=Intruding Target-01 system, probing defences=

=Target-01 Firewall level: Green.=

=Chances of successful invasion: 98.3%=

'Proceed.'

=Installing Backdoor=

=Status: Intrusion complete. Target-01 system is now available.=

I nodded in satisfaction before turning on the vox again and started walking to the cargo bay, [Okay, managed to fix. Opening the ramp.]

[Roger that.]

'Time for phase two. Turn off all lights and close all doors. Override safety procedures. Deactivate communications.'

=Status: Processing=

The entire dock turned pitch black as the lights suddenly deactivated, the sound of the doors slamming shut following right behind.

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!"

"WHY THE LIGHTS ARE OUT?! I CAN'T SEE SHIT!"

A scream resounded from some distance, "MY LEG! THE DOOR CLOSED ON MY LEG!"

"Oh spirits, medic! We got a accident-"

My cargo ramp groaned and started to lower, the only lights being the Tech-Thrall and mine optics glowing in the dark. I switched to Preyvision, the pirates showing up according to their heat signatures, 'Open fire.'

=Skitarii Protocols Activated.=

My Thralls were positioned in two columns, TT-001 and TT-002 with assault rifles on front unleashed a spray of bullets. The pirates, unprepared and caught off guard, received the full brunt of the combined firepower. The Batarian who approached my ship didn't have time to react as he was gunned down by my Thralls. After him was the Turian, my laspistol quickly turned his head into a blue mist.

=Targets: 4.=

With a silent order, TT-003 to TT-005 spread from behind the rifle Thralls, also opening fire. The pirates that were working on the ship scrambled for cover behind some crates, the batarian being too slow got shredded by concentrated fire.

I raised my arms to halt my thralls movements, their barrage ceasing. A single head slowly to peek, only to single smg shoot at it in the eye. A scream of horror came from the remaining human, a Predator pistol poked out of the cover for blindly fire. A round whizzed beside me before I advanced, my Thralls parted ways for my pass, a well aimed las bolt tore the weapon from the pirate hands. Soon I was upon him, a look of terror passed on his face before I carved it in two using my Omnissian Axe.

I turned to stare at the pirate stuck in the door, it is a double pneumatic door and had crushed him right in the junction of his hip to the leg leaving it behind him, he groans in pain while desperately tries to pry his leg free. A quick shot from my mechadendrite brought him out of his misery.

'Open.' I commanded through my MIU, the door sliding open while letting the lifeless body fall. Two human pirates were behind it, their rifles already up and barking. One of my Thralls was buffeted with bullets while the rest quickly shot them down, one of them managed to let a couple of shots at me, a bluish shield flaring to life before it quickly dispersed.

I had installed these Kinetic Barrier emitters, or 'shields' for short, in my armor, they are weak compared to more advanced energy shields from the Imperium, but are better than nothing.

'Connect to the station logs, how many pirates are still alive?' I queried.

=Status: Processing=

=Result: 37 Remaining Targets.=

'Nothing that I can't handle.' I thought, advancing through the corridor, now minus TT-004 in my party.

BREAK

One hour later, I searched all station rooms that I passed, killing every hostile that I found. Sadly, my numbers are too small for a scour everywhere. I am relying on lightning speed attacks before my enemies notice my lack of numbers. I decided to use more my mechadendrite mounted lasgun than my laspistol, using my Omnissian Axe with both hands.

After facing small pockets of enemies and patrols, two of my Thralls - a SMG and Rifle one - are heavily damaged. I had a few bullet marks in my armor and robes due my shields falling once, but nothing too damaging.

In front of me is a large set of doors that I reached in one of the main, bigger corridors of the base. According to the info that I gathered, it should be just a large storage area. The lights were on, someone must have circumvented my hijack.

'Open.' I ordered while standing behind my Thralls. The doors hissed open, a line of crates with pirate soldiers taking cover with their rifles pointed exactly at my entourage. I recognized the threat immediately, shooting one of the pirates with my lasgun in the head and ducking for cover before they fired.

A deafening stream of gunfire erupted from the pirate cover, my Thralls sluggishly lowered into cover while shooting. The damaged two caught the brunt of the attack due their slower movements, falling on the ground with their optics lights dying. According to the shared feed, three more pirates died due to my Thralls quick shooting.

I and my Thralls exchanged fire with the pirates, ours being much more accurate than theirs, more three hostiles fell before they managed to suppress us, blocking any chances to even shoot back..

A brief silence engulfed the room before a human pirate spoke up, presumably their Commander, "I don't know what or who ye are, but I'll be sure to kill ye personally! Ye may have got the drop on us but we're ready for ye now bastard! Drop yer weapons and maybe I'll kill ye quick!"

I peeked an optic to analyse him, something was...off. A strange energy reading resonated from within his body, and it matches with the same readings from this 'Element Zero' cores. I grabbed one of the dead Thralls and attached to it a grenade, big enough to cause confusion but small enough to not cause structural damage.

"Your death will not be swift, heretic." I answered back before lobbing the corpse with the explosive primed using my mechadendrite, it hit the closest cluster of traitors and xenos. Cries of disgust and surprise turned into cries of pain as it detonated, killing at least four and wounding more two.

Thralls and pirates furiously exchanged fire after my brief surprise blow. The hostiles were desperate and confused, more than half of their shots missed. The reanimated cyborgs, in their purified metal and circuitry, always struck their targets. I added my own lasfire, tearing off limbs and heads.

'Override anything that is blocking my access, turn off these lights.'

=Status: Processing=

=Status: Firewall detected, Cyber defenses detected. Breaking through=

The lights flicked on and off in intervals of minutes, giving me a bigger window for leap through my cover and dash to the pirates with my Omnissian Axe lit up. Dodging through grain-sized bullets, a few hitting my shields, I saw another of my Thralls falling from a lucky shot in the optics before I was on them.

"What the hell?!" A human screamed in terror before I decapitated him and a batarian next to him in a single swing. Under my extended arm I shot down another two, and bisected a gruff turian. Grab another using one of my Servo-Arms, use them as shield, and snap it's spine. I carved my bloody way through my opponents before finally meeting with the Commander, taking his features intently.

He wears the same armor of all pirates, with the addition of a single grey metal pauldron on his shoulder and a scar on his lip edge stopping only at his cheek, surgical stitches holding it together. The Commander sneered in disgust at my visage, "Jesus H. Christ, yer a ugly son of a bitch!"

I paid no mind to the heretic insult, swinging my axe with my momentum at him before it was engulfed in a field of blue energy, the same that is now radiating from the Commander's hand. Klaxons and alarms blared in my cogitators, a single word exiting from my vox, "Psyker."

The Commander looked confusedly at me before snarling and sending a wave of energy at me, throwing my body away like a strong gust of wind, completely shattering my shields. I fell standing on the corpses of dead pirates and a fallen Thrall, planting my axe on the ground to gain stability. 'This wasn't sorcery… Analysis.'

=No warp signature detected. No psychic residue detected.=

=Element Zero readings detected.=

'It must be one of these so called 'biotics', I must do an in depth necropsy later.' I mentally decided before a single round teared into my chest left side, passing straight through a metal plate, the biotic pirate holding a smoking Carnifex.

=Alert Damage Assessment: Cardiac Implant 1 damaged. Structural Rib 6 damaged.=

++ Filthy fleshling. ++ I switched to Lingua Technis in my fury, quickly burying it inside my neural vaults. Most of the pirates are already dead or dying, but only two of my Thralls are still functioning. I sprang into a sprint towards the Commander, a las bolt knocking the pistol away from his hands. The pirate enveloped the ballistic mechadendrite in a telekinetic grip, shoving its barrel away just in time to avoid another las bolt.

I swung my Axe down on him, who dove beneath and grabbed it's midsection with his free hand, managing to hold it at bay. He kept holding my mechadendrite, his face showing a great strain of trying to hold two great weights. Even without the ballistic implant, I still had other three mechadendrites free. His expression morphed to dread as one servo arm grabbed his torso and another his head, ripping it from his body.

=Status: 3 Remaining Targets.=

I quickly finished off the last pirates with my lasgun and Axe, the room now being silent as a grave. A spark of humor and satisfaction came from my neural vaults, and I allowed myself to indulge in it.

Proceeding through the warehouse, I reached another corridor and the final, most important room. The center of command, or the central command room. Doing a quick Rite of Sanctification and a Rite of Purification, I intoned, ++ Assume direct control. ++

=Status: Processing=

BREAK

Aaaaand that does it. I apologize again for the gigantic delay that this chapter had, I was having some problems to write, school and life stuff, that broken laptop -which I managed to repair- but by the Omnissiah I managed to finish this. I'll try to not add too many Wh40k factions in the blender in this story, but surely some people might show up.

I have a small question, Tallarn Desert Raiders or Valhallan Ice Warriors? Who do you prefer? The poll will be on my page.

Please leave reviews, they help greatly to gain inspiration, view my errors and get new ideas. Although, NO FLAMES! Omnissiah be with you!