I tear myself away from the servitor's mind, trying to digest the information that flooded into my brain far too quickly. It couldn't be true, throne's sake I was on a mission when Selbie died, and this day was my first encounter with the servitor. Just to make sure I take a close look at the thing, and find nothing familiar, not in the augmentics, and not in the flesh.
What was left of the servitor's mind would now be fragmented. It had to have been a defence mechanism, a servitor couldn't withstand a psychic probe, a technovirus would befuddle the cogboys, so the servitor's memories were altered by the true culprit to defend against a psychic attack. That is the only anwser, and I can prove it to myself, as well as find out who is really responcible for this madness by checking McGartak's, Brenz's, Selbie's, and finally Finley's medical records. No doubt this particular servitor was the tool for murdering His servents, but it was no subtle thing, and servitors do not work without supervision, but to clean and serve.
"Murder, murder most terrible." I tell the stunned guardsmen, those who had the use of their hands seemed to have the sign of the aquillia locked permanently in them, and those who didn't were damn well trying.
I pick up my lasgun, take a moment to compose myself, and set off for the doctor's office and the records they held. Whoever supervised those 'procedures' was about to have a very bad day.