The escort ship penetrated Mars' turbulent atmosphere, revealing a breathtaking sight outside the viewport.
The planet itself presented a morbid, rust-red hue, encircled in orbit by the magnificent structure known as the "Iron Ring"—an unbroken expanse of docks, spaceports, and starship construction facilities that cinched the entire globe like a metallic belt.
Countless vessels traversed the orbit, like worker bees around a hive.
As the altitude decreased, the surface details sharpened.
Colossal industrial complexes dominated the entire view, towering Forge-Temples spewing dense smoke, and the glow of volcanic furnaces was visible even in daylight.
Interlacing pipeline networks covered the ground like veins, draining toxic industrial waste into rivers long since rendered foul.
The air was thick with the acrid scent of metal dust and chemical agents, faintly detectable even through the ship's internal circulation system.
The fleet slowly descended into Hope Spaceport.
The spaceport itself was a steel city; landing pads stretched to the horizon, and colossal cranes clustered like a forest of metal.
As the hatch opened, the dull roar of machinery instantly flooded in, interspersed with the sharp grind of turning gears and the low-frequency hum of plasma engines.
Sigismund was the first to descend the ramp. His black power armour looked particularly severe under the dark-red Martian sky. Behind him, the Templars spread out into combat formation, their power weapons ready.
Osiris' mechanical body slowly walked down the ramp, his optical lenses calmly sweeping the welcoming delegation.
The representatives from Mars had been waiting for a long time.
Leading the group was a Tech-Priest Enginseer cloaked in scarlet robes. His bionic eye sockets flickered with subtle red lights from their calibration, and his vox-caster conveyed a precisely modulated binary greeting.
Behind him, dozens of Tech-Priests of varying ranks stood rigidly, their degree of mechanical modification diverse, but all exuding the same air of cold indifference.
"Welcome to Mars, Explorator Osiris," the red-robed Magos spoke in a mechanical, common-tongue monotone. "The Omnissiah witnesses this historic meeting."
Osiris gave a slight nod in return, his voice steady and clear: "May this meeting enhance understanding and promote cooperation."
On the way to the negotiation site, Osiris noted that every detail of the steel city reflected the Mechanicum's dogma.
Tech-Priests, modified to varying degrees, hurried through the streets, their mechanical limbs contrasting uncannily with their organic flesh.
Countless Servitors labored silently among the pipes, executing pre-set, repetitive tasks. In the distance, Skitarii patrol teams marched in lockstep, their weapon systems glinting dully under the crimson light.
The negotiation location was set in the renowned Gamma Boundary Forge Temple.
The structure itself was a symbol of the Mechanicum's power; its towering spires, kilometers high, pointed toward the sky.
The exterior walls were covered in constantly updating data streams, and colossal gears turned slowly within the structure, issuing an eternal roar.
When Osiris and Sigismund entered the main assembly hall, they were met by a massive, circular metal table surrounded by twelve of Mars' highest-ranking Archmagi. Their bionic optics simultaneously focused on Osiris, filling the space with an invisible pressure.
Sigismund stepped forward, the joints of his power armour hissing slightly.
"We come in the name of the Emperor's will," his voice echoed through the temple. "Let the negotiation commence."
The Archmagos leading the Martian delegation slowly raised his bionic limb, countless tiny servo-motors whirring in unison.
"Then let us see," his vox-caster emitted a cold electronic tone, "if this technology, held in such high regard, is truly as… revolutionary as rumored."
The negotiation formally began within the circular assembly hall of the Gamma Boundary Forge Temple.
The council of twelve Martian Archmagi—the review board—locked their bionic optics onto Osiris, as data streams rapidly scrolled across their retinal displays.
The Martian side immediately demonstrated impressive efficiency.
Within just a few standard hours, a specialized team of high-ranking Tech-Priests completed the preliminary assessment of the Warp drive's core technology.
Countless data cables rose from the hall floor, connecting to the Archmagi's cranial interfaces. The entire analysis proceeded in near-absolute silence, punctuated only by the subtle hum of servo-motors.
Finally, the Chief Archmagos broke the silence.
His vox-caster emitted a series of precisely modulated binary code. These high-frequency sound waves echoed through the hall, translating into a data stream that only the mechanically augmented could directly comprehend.
Osiris' audio sensors immediately captured the binary message: "Technical validation complete. The Warp drive's theoretical framework is sound, the technical path is feasible, and it conforms to the sacred laws of the Omnissiah."
Osiris' mechanical body leaned slightly forward, issuing an encrypted binary response: "Thank you for the validation. This technology will forge new navigation routes for Humanity."
A subtle whirring of mechanical joints filled the air—the Archmagi's unique way of expressing assent.
The Chief Archmagos continued to communicate via binary code: "Based on the significant value of this technology, the Martian Council has decided to confer upon you the title of 'Fabricator-Magos'."
At this point, another Archmagos emitted a different binary sequence: "But the eligibility for the 'Archmagos' title must be discussed."
A dense exchange of data immediately erupted within the hall.
The Archmagi engaged in a fierce discussion via binary code, the light of the data streams rapidly shifting in their bionic eyes.
A conservative binary message propagated through the air: "The Archmagos title must follow tradition, requiring scrutiny of doctrinal understanding and seniority."
The supportive faction immediately countered in binary: "The value of this technology far exceeds the conventional; the promotion standards must be adjusted."
Just as the argument intensified, Osiris transmitted a calm yet firm binary code: "Thank you for the recognition, but I must respectfully decline the Archmagos title. My focus currently remains on technical perfection and dissemination."
This response brought a brief moment of silence to the hall. The Archmagi quickly exchanged opinions via the binary network. Finally, the Chief Archmagos issued the final resolution on behalf of the council.
"We respect your decision. The title of 'Fabricator-Magos' is formally conferred, granting the corresponding authority on Mars and its subsidiary Forge Worlds."
A squad of Tech-Priests entered the hall, bearing a red robe woven with conductive fibers and a cogwheel insignia embedded with a data chip.
Osiris' unilateral shoulder pauldron was detached. The red robe connected to his mechanical body via magnetic interfaces, and the cogwheel insignia was directly implanted into a data port on his breastplate.
The entire process was accompanied by precise mechanical arm operations and the flashing indicator lights of data transfer. There were no litanies, only the accurate click of components meshing.
As Osiris and Sigismund left the hall and entered the connecting passage, Sigismund finally spoke: "What did they say?"
Osiris' optical lenses slightly adjusted their focus: "They validated the technology's value, conferred the Fabricator-Magos title, and debated the Archmagos eligibility. I declined the higher title."
Sigismund nodded slightly: "A wise choice. Gaining too high a title too soon would only make you a target."
Osiris gazed at the newly acquired golden cogwheel insignia, his synthesized voice remaining steady: "Now, we must focus on the upcoming technical demonstration."