Rex Salazar: The Omnissiah Chapter 13 (Early Preview)

Edited: 11/10/25

Chapter 13: Quality Control

Before the convoy reached the main gate, a shift change spilled out. Workers shuffled along a narrow lane between slag and wall. Filter masks hid their mouths. Oil and ash stained their sleeves. A woman leaned on another for balance. Two men carried a third on a sheet of mesh, his arm bound tight with cloth.

Rex stepped down as the transports braked. He watched the line pass. No one raised a hand. A few glanced at the Skitarii and lowered their eyes again. A man looked up at Rex, then away at once.

Valus climbed down on Rex’s right. “We keep the gates timed with the line speed to prevent clogs. There are fewer accidents when the crowd does not build.”

Rex’s gaze swept the line. “Fewer,” he replied evenly.

They moved through the gate. The yard stank of hot metal and dead coolant. Their group was soon led to a separate building from where the workers were exiting, likely the administration department. 

"This facility serves the glory of the Omnissiah through the construction of void-faring defense mechanisms." Magos Lexir-Kor pointed toward the other building. "Hull plating, armor works, and our most sacred technology, void shield generators."

"How many people work here?" Rex watched a group of laborers struggle to move a massive plate of adamantium.

"Approximately twenty-two thousand souls serve in this manufactorum." The Overseer stepped forward. Torvik's face remained mostly hidden behind a respirator mask and optical enhancements. "Most are unaugmented, but the most loyal receive the blessing of mechanical improvement after sufficient service."

Rex noticed how the workers with augmentations stood straighter and moved with more confidence. "And what happens to those who get injured on the job?"

The council members exchanged glances. Fabricator-General Valus cleared his throat. "The weak flesh fails. Those who cannot serve are replaced."

"Replaced," Rex repeated. "Not treated?"

"Resources must be allocated efficiently, Omnissiah." Magos Ryza-Tal sounded confused. "This is the way of the Machine."

Rex filed that information away. One more thing to change when he had the chance. "Show me these void shields you're building."

The procession moved deeper into the facility, passing through several security checkpoints. Workers prostrated themselves as Rex passed and murmured prayers to the Omnissiah. The reverence still made him uncomfortable.

They arrived at a circular chamber where a massive device stood at the center. The void shield generator was roughly the size of a small car, a blocky metal contraption covered in inscriptions and strange symbols. Pipes and cables protruded from its housing, connecting to power sources and control panels.

"Behold the Mark IV Void Shield Generator, capable of protecting an entire frigate-class vessel from most known weapons." Torvik's voice swelled with pride. "We produce twelve of these sacred devices per Martian month."

Rex circled the generator and examined its construction. The outer casing was crude, all sharp angles and exposed components. Nothing like the sleek technology he was used to. Even from the glimpses of Dark Age technology he'd seen in the Cogitator's archives, this was a poor imitation.

"May I?" Rex gestured toward the device.

"Of course, Omnissiah." Torvik bowed deeply.

Rex placed his hand on the cold metal surface. His nanites immediately began interfacing with the technology, breaking down its components and functions in his mind. The science was almost unbelievable. The shield created a temporary rift in reality itself, shunting incoming attacks into the immaterium, the realm they called the warp. The technology was simultaneously primitive in construction yet advanced in concept. Now that he had it, it would be very useful in the upcoming wasteland campaign.

"This is standard ship defense?" Rex pulled his hand away.

"Indeed. Without void shields, our vessels would be vulnerable to the weapons of both xenos and other human factions." Magos Ferris-Keph adjusted his optical sensors. "The design has remained largely unchanged for centuries."

Rex nodded slowly. "I'd like to see one in action."

"We anticipated your request, Omnissiah." Torvik turned toward another doorway. "Follow me to the testing chamber."

They proceeded through several more hallways until they reached an observation room overlooking a large, reinforced chamber. One wall contained what looked like massive weapons, each mounted on a separate firing platform. On the opposite side stood a simple metal platform.

"These are the weapons we use to test our void shields before they are shipped to orbital facilities." Torvik indicated each weapon in turn. "Nova cannons capable of destroying small vessels with a single shot. Lance batteries are designed to penetrate the heaviest armor. Standard weapons batteries that deliver sustained firepower."

Rex whistled. "This is serious firepower for a testing facility."

"A void shield that fails its testing would doom thousands of crew members," Magos Ryza-Tal folded his hands. "Better to know its limits here than on the battlefield."

A door on the far side of the chamber opened, and a single man walked in. He wore simple gray coveralls and moved toward the platform. 

Rex's attention snapped to the lone figure. "What is he doing in there?" He leaned forward against the viewing glass.

"Subject 437 is our testing calibrator," Torvik spoke casually. "He will demonstrate the effectiveness of today's shield."

Before Rex could respond, a humming filled the air as the void shield generator activated. A shimmer of energy surrounded the platform where the man stood. The subject immediately tensed.

"Begin testing sequence," Torvik spoke into a vox unit.

The first weapon, powered up with a high-pitched whine. Rex's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen.

"Wait, you're firing those at him?" Rex stepped toward the control panel.

"Omnissiah, this is standard procedure." Fabricator-General Valus placed a mechanical hand on Rex's shoulder. "The void shield will protect him."

“I hope so…”

The Overseer, Magos Torvik, gestured toward a massive cogitator display. "The Mark VII Thanatos-pattern void shield operates at a power consumption rate of 2.7 terawatts, drawing from an independent fusion cell. Its field matrix can withstand impacts up to 4.3 gigawatts of directed energy without compromising integrity."

Rex noticed the man's hands trembling as the weapon was aimed at him. The poor guy had clearly been through this before.

"And you're certain this shield can handle these weapons?" Rex asked.

"Omnissiah, we have calculated a 98.7% probability of shield survival." Torvik's augmetic eyes whirred as they refocused. "Subject survival probability remains at 94.2%, which exceeds our minimum testing threshold by 14.2 percentage points."

Before Rex could intervene, the weapon fired. A streak of energy lashed out, striking the shield surrounding the man. The shield flared brilliant blue, absorbing the impact. The man flinched but remained standing.

"See? The flesh is weak, but the Machine protects." Torvik's chest puffed with pride. "The shield's machine spirit is pleased."

"First test completed with the Drakovich-pattern light weapons battery," the Overseer announced. "Weapon discharge registered at 1.7 gigawatts, shield absorption rate optimal at 99.2%. Heat dissipation within acceptable parameters."

Rex watched as the test subject wiped sweat from his brow. Though physically unharmed, the man's eyes darted nervously to the second weapon being positioned.

"The next weapon is our Hellfire-pattern lance battery," Torvik explained, his mechanical fingers dancing across the control panel. "This configuration delivers a concentrated beam at 3.1 gigawatts. The void shield will disperse this energy across its entire surface area, theoretically remaining within tolerance levels."

The lance battery fired next, a concentrated beam of energy that made the shield flare even brighter. Again, the man flinched, bracing himself against the platform railing.

"Lance impact registered. Shield integrity at 87.3%, well within acceptable parameters," Torvik noted. "The refraction algorithms are functioning at 96.8% efficiency, redirecting energy through the quantum barrier as designed."

Rex's stomach twisted as he watched. "This is your testing protocol? Using human subjects?"

"Of course. How else would we verify the shields' effectiveness for protection?" Magos Ferris-Keph sounded genuinely confused. "Subject 437 has survived ninety-seven tests. He is most resilient."

"We selected this subject specifically for his genetic resilience to stress," Torvik added. "His adrenal response remains within 2.3% of baseline even after repeated testing, making his readings statistically significant."

Rex glanced around the chamber. Servitors stood at various stations, recording data and adjusting equipment. Tech-priests murmured binaric prayers to the machines. The entire scene felt surreal, like something from a nightmare.

"Our final test utilizes a scaled Jovian-pattern nova cannon," the Overseer continued, oblivious to Rex's discomfort. "The weapon operates on modified plasma compression principles, generating a graviton-stabilized energy sphere with an impact rating of 3.9 gigawatts. Shield stress will approach 91% of maximum tolerance, providing valuable data on near-failure conditions."

The final weapon, a scaled-down nova cannon, powered up with a deep, ominous thrum. Rex stepped forward again, but the weapon had already fired. A concentrated ball of energy struck the shield, causing it to ripple violently. For a moment, Rex thought it would collapse, but it held. The subject stumbled backward, clearly shaken but physically unharmed.

"Testing complete. Shield integrity at acceptable levels." Torvik tapped a data-slate. "Field strength remained at 78.3% at peak impact, harmonic resonance within 0.5% of predicted models. This unit is certified for void deployment."

The shield powered down, and the subject was escorted from the chamber by servitors. Rex watched him go, noting the distant, traumatized look in his eyes.

"Subject 437's vital signs show elevated stress markers but no physical damage," Torvik noted. "Heart rate peaked at 172 beats per minute, blood pressure 157/94, and cortisol levels at 213% of baseline. All within acceptable testing parameters."

"Omnissiah, you seem troubled." Fabricator-General Valus studied Rex's face. "The shield performed within parameters."

Rex turned to face the council and the Overseer. "That's what troubles me. You're using people as test subjects. That man could have died if the shield failed."

"Subject 437 volunteered for this position. Thanks to his success, only 123 subjects have been lost to prior tests this past year." Torvik's voice remained flat, as if discussing production quotas rather than human lives.

Rex could feel his eye twitching. "Is there no other alternative? This was Plan A?"

Torvik raised his hands slightly. "Would you prefer we risk the lives of thousands of void-farers with untested shields? The Mark VII Thanatos-pattern is designated for use on orbital habitats housing up to 12,000 personnel."

Rex crossed his arms. "What about animals? Couldn't you run these tests on livestock instead of people?"

Torvik tilted his head, his augmetic eye whirring as it refocused. "Animals, Omnissiah? Mars has no livestock. The surface cannot sustain such inefficient biological systems."

Rex glanced out the viewport at the rust-colored landscape dotted with smoke-belching factories. In hindsight, that made sense. "I suppose that is true." Still, human testing for this type of manufacturing was absurd.

As they left the testing chamber, Rex caught a glimpse of Subject 437 being led down a distant corridor. The man's shoulders were hunched, and he walked unsteadily. Rex wondered how he pushed on, expecting each test might be his last. All this for a job to put some food on the table.

"The subject will receive his daily nutrient allocation with a 15% bonus for successful test completion," Torvik noted, following Rex's gaze. "Our calculations indicate this incentive structure maximizes volunteer participation while minimizing resource expenditure."

Rex stopped walking. The procession of tech-priests behind him halted, their mechadendrites twitching.

"I've made a decision." Rex turned to face the council members. "Starting today, no more human testing. You'll construct test dummies for your experiments."

Magos Xenthos blinked his one remaining human eye. "Omnissiah, forgive my confusion. The use of human subjects provides the most accurate data."

"Then your data collection needs improvement." Rex clenched his fists at his sides. "This really shouldn’t be that difficult. Your machines can model human responses, no?"

The Overseer frowned, but relented. "As you command, so shall it be. Though I confess, this seems inefficient.”

"Inefficient?" Rex gestured toward the corridor where Subject 437 had disappeared. "That man is a person, and I'm sure he has better use than being a literal meat sack to shoot at."

"We shall conceed to your wisdom." Valus inclined his head. "Though I fear our production schedules may suffer. The void shield production rate may decrease by approximately 23.7% while we develop alternative testing protocols."

Rex rubbed his temples. Their cogitators could process billions of calculations per second, but couldn't grasp something as simple as compassion. If this was how they treated volunteers for testing, he dreaded what the actual factory floor conditions might be like.

"Your city isn't in a life-or-death scenario. This seems completely unnecessary. You guys aren't even at war... You aren't, right?"

"Mars remains vigilant in keeping up our defenses against the heretics and hostile attackers," Torvik replied. "The statistical probability of orbital assault stands at 7.3% this cycle, down 0.4% from last cycle but still within cautionary parameters."

"Right..." Rex straightened his shoulders. "I want plans for test dummies on the docket this week by tomorrow. And I want to tour the manufacturing floor next."

Magos Ryza-Tal's voice box crackled. "That area is not suitable for one of your divine status, Omnissiah."

"That's exactly why I need to see them." Rex stared at each council member in turn. "If this is just the testing room, that's all the more reason for me to go."

#

Rex’s group walked through the vast doorway of Manufactorum Omicron-7. 

Inside the main floor entrance, heat rolled up from the machine. A heavy press hammered at a measured interval. With each impact, the floor gave a hard little tremor.

Workers moved through the space with downcast eyes, some fully human with tired faces, others partially augmented with crude mechanical limbs or ocular implants. They avoided eye contact with the council procession and kept their heads down as they performed repetitive tasks.

Valus gestured to a waist-height projector bolted into a column. “Output over the last twelve cycles. Three percent uptick after a valve swap in the north channel. Steel intake remains stable. Alloy mix adjusted to conserve tungsten. Ten percent reduction in waste run-off after reprogramming the pour speeds.”

Rex’s eyes stayed on the displays until the omissions became clear. “Injuries and Fatalities?”

Ryza-Tal’s gaze slid to a smaller panel. “We track those in the medicae annex. Separate ledger.”

Rex pointed at the screen. “Put it on the main display.”

Ryza-Tal keyed a command without comment. A smaller panel appeared at the left edge. The count for the last cycle wasn't one you bragged about.

Valus spread his hands. “We have limited medicae units. We prioritize parts replacement and line endurance. Triage is handled after the shift.”

Rex turned from the display and nodded toward the hazard gallery above the floor. “I do not want the tour from up there.”

Valus studied the gallery for a moment. “The gallery keeps visitors clear of the line.”

Rex’s tone left no room. “We will walk the floor with the workers.”

A pause followed. The councilors exchanged small data bursts. Valus inclined his head. “As you wish.”

An overseer hurried ahead to clear a narrow path. The Council fell in behind Rex. Their servo-limbs were tucked tight against their bodies to avoid the moving belts. Skitarii took the outer edge.

Out of the gate, Rex counted at least seven different safety violations that would have shut down any facility back home. Exposed wiring sparked near flammable materials. Workers used cutting tools without eye protection. The support beams exhibited signs of metal fatigue, with visible cracks throughout the structure.

Rex matched pace with a pair of workers feeding sheets into a rolling press. The man nearest him had a crude pincer for a left hand, its cable bound with wire and a prayer knot. He worked with care, never looking up.

Rex decided to speak up. “Do you think your job is risky?”

The man flicked a glance toward him and the Overseer behind Rex. “I just do my job, your holiness. The risks don’t matter.”

Rex shifted closer. “I am not here to punish you. I want to know where people get hurt.”

The man looked back at the Overseer and noticed how he deferred to Rex’s authority.

“If I can speak freely?”

Rex followed the man’s gaze and understood the implication. “Of course.”

“The um… Hydraulic loaders on line four. They…”

The man’s partner kept his eyes on the feed. “They spit when they’re hot. If you’re close, you feel it on your skin and go numb. Then you fall to your death.”

The pincer-handed man shot his partner a sharp look. 

He only shrugged. “It’s true.”

Soon, a woman arrived with a cart of braces and impact gloves. Her right leg was a sleeve of molded plastic with metal pins in the thigh. She set the cart down, wiped her hands on a rag, and adjusted the pincer’s mount.

Rex gave the same introduction to the woman and asked about other hazards. “Where else?”

She rubbed her arms in nervousness. “The walkway guard rails fell years ago. We hoped for new ones, but they never came.”

Seeing Ryza-Tal’s head turn slowly toward her, the woman turned away, disappearing into the crowd of workers.

Rex watched her go, then shifted his attention back to the council. “You want my help bringing this place up or not?”