Chapter 6: Mapping the Wastes
The initial activation of his temporary manufactorum granted Joric a brief period of respite, but the tranquility did not last.
He leaned against the metal workbench, his optical sensors fixed on the energy readouts still hovering at critical lows. He made a subconscious gesture of rubbing the bridge of his nose—a vestigial habit from his human life, long since retained despite the reinforced alloy that now covered most of his face.
"Our resources are still perilously thin," he sighed, his fingertips tapping an unconscious rhythm on the steel tabletop.
The micro-fusion reactor from the Martian Forge World was a bottomless pit. Though he had linked it to the town's repaired solar grid, the rate of recharge was a pathetic trickle, barely enough to sustain his basic operational functions.
This didn't even account for the all-too-quiet archeotech relic at his waist. Only the Machine-God knew how much energy it would drain the next time it decided to activate.
He called up the servo-skull's preliminary regional scan, his gaze shifting between several marked points of interest. Promethium, high-yield power cells, electronic components, bio-matter... he was deficient in all of them, and the need for each was urgent.
The town had been scoured clean. Even the fanatically diligent cleaning drone had been rendered down to its last usable components.
"Old friend, it seems we must go foraging," Joric said, patting the servo-skull hovering at his shoulder. The skull's jaw clicked twice, the blue light in its ocular lenses flickering in apparent agreement.
He walked to the manufactorum's entrance and pushed aside the temporary barricade. The afternoon sun baked the sand, and the heat haze made the distant landscape shimmer and warp.
"Alright. Run another detailed scan of the perimeter, with priority focus on the mine to the northwest and the scrap-heaps to the northeast. I want a complete regional cartograph this time."
The servo-skull ascended silently to a height of ten meters and began a systematic sweep, its augurs centered on the workshop. Joric leaned against the doorframe, watching the pale blue light from the skull's lenses pass slowly over the dunes, the ruins, and the distant rock formations. The beam shifted through frequencies—from visible light to infrared, and then to a deeper material composition analysis.
"First, a wide-area topographical scan," he directed softly. "Establish a foundational elevation mesh."
The skull emitted a low thrum, its scanning beam intensifying. The rise and fall of the dunes, the lines of the rock strata, and the outlines of derelict buildings were precisely recorded, forming a basic terrain grid.
"Now, initiate sub-surface augury. Prioritize metallic reactions and energy signatures in the 10-to-50-meter depth range," Joric added.
He waited patiently as the servo-skull adjusted its frequency, emitting a specialized geo-penetrating pulse. After several minutes, a new set of data was flagged.
++Intermittent low-energy signature detected. Bearing: Northwest. Distance: 7.3km. Depth: approx. 30m. Signal profile exhibits 67% match for mining apparatus. Co-terminus metallic deposits detected. Probable ore vein.++
"And the northeast?"
++Large-scale metallic mass detected. Chaotic energy readings and high-level signal interference. Distribution: approx. 2 sq km. Depth: variable. Composition and threat level: unknown.++ the skull reported via binary-cant.
Joric nodded. "Excellent. Now, overlay all data and generate the composite cartograph."
The light in the servo-skull's oculars focused, projecting a detailed hololithic map in the air before him.
The map outlined the terrain in sharp blue lines. The mine in the northwest was marked with a flashing orange dot, annotated with energy readings and technical parameters. The scrap-field to the northeast, however, was a vast red-shaded area, a spinning warning sigil hovering over it. The map also meticulously detailed areas of unstable sand, solid rock formations, optimal traverse routes, and even several ruins that could serve as defensible positions.
Joric studied the newly detailed map, a finger tracing through the hololithic projection, zooming in on various details.
"The mine is at a reasonable distance, the energy signal is clear, and there's a corresponding ore vein... It presents a risk, but it is a quantifiable one," he mused. He then switched the view to the northeast. "The scrap-field may be richer in resources, but it is distant, the interference is high, and there are too many unknown variables..."
He fell silent for a moment, his gaze moving back and forth, weighing the litanies of cost and benefit.
Finally, his hand reached out and tapped the location of the mine. "This is the objective. Closer, manageable risk. A fitting target for our first reconnaissance."
He dismissed the hololith and began his preparations.
First, he checked his primary armament—a heavy plasma incinerator with a terrifyingly large-caliber muzzle. This masterpiece from the Martian forges, however, remained silent.
Joric attempted to activate its power coil, only to be met with a faint whine and a system prompt: ++Power Insufficient. Plasma Charge Incomplete. Recommend Core Energy 45%+ Before Attempting Ignition.++
A single full-power blast from the weapon could vaporize most threats, but the energy cost would cause his reactor's output to plummet. In his current energy crisis, it was a luxury he could not afford.
In its place, he retrieved a ruggedly-shaped pistol from a storage recess in his robes. It was a Bolt Pistol—a "personal project" of his from his time on Mars. He had believed the traditional boltgun design lacked efficiency, so he had taken it upon himself to improve it, adding an advanced recoil-dampening system and a cogitator-linked sight. While its power and range couldn't match dedicated military patterns, it was light, reliable, and—most importantly—it used .50 caliber bolt shells, one of the few ammunition types he could still fabricate in small batches.
"It is fortunate I pursued this modification for my own edification," he said, checking the magazine, which was loaded with his self-fabricated shells. They lacked the armor-piercing capabilities of the Astartes-pattern rounds, but they were more than sufficient for most soft targets.
Next was a systems check. The wrist-mounted laser cutter could only be maintained at its lowest setting, the beam a dull red, barely able to cut thin sheet metal. His multi-jointed mechadendrites were also in energy-conservation mode, their movements slower than usual, but their precision remained intact.
His greatest concern was his defensive system. He activated the energy field generator—a relic from the 41st Millennium. A nearly invisible shimmer wavered around him for an instant before stabilizing.
++Shield Strength: 23%. Will deflect low-power energy attacks and small-arms kinetic fire. Warning: Sustained impacts will precipitate critical energy drain.++
"It will suffice, so long as I do not encounter heavy ordnance," Joric muttered. In a world of this apparent technological level, this refractor field should be enough to handle most threats.
He attached the bolt pistol to a magnetic holster on his hip and secured two spare magazines. A set of basic repair tools and a multi-function auspex were stowed neatly in compartments within his robes.
Finally, he spread out the self-made leather map. "Mark the detailed route, especially the positions of those cover points."
The servo-skull descended, projecting a fine red beam that precisely marked the optimal path on the map, highlighting rock formations and flagging unstable ground.
"It is done." After a final check of his route and wargear, he stood. His dark crimson robes shifted in the hot wind. "Maintain sanctum integrity while I am gone. Do not let that mutant vermin slip in and gnaw on the power conduits."
The servo-skull's jaw clicked twice, the blue light in its oculars shining steadily as it watched its master step out of the manufactorum and into the burning sea of sand.