Summary: It is the year 3020. There is little time. Alien forces gather in the dark. The quarrels of the House Lords and Periphery nations shall end. The Clans return to human space at long last. Comstar burns its once holy shroud. All must stand together before the green tide.
-
The site has now migrated to Xenforo 2. If you see any issues with the forum operation, please post them in the feedback thread.
-
An addendum to Rule 3 regarding fan-translated works of things such as Web Novels has been made. Please see here for details.
-
RIP @Silver Swallow
-
Due to issues with external spam filters, QQ is currently unable to send any mail to Microsoft E-mail addresses. This includes any account at live.com, hotmail.com or msn.com. Signing up to the forum with one of these addresses will result in your verification E-mail never arriving. For best results, please use a different E-mail provider for your QQ address.
-
The rules regarding NSFW links have been updated. See here for details.
Battletech: The Ork Invasion of 3020 (WH40K/B-TECH Crossover, CYOA Gone Horribly Wrong)
- Thread starter Titanicmark2
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Incomplete
- Watchers
- 35
- Recent readers
- 122
- Threadmarks
- 27
-
Statistics (9 threadmarks, 48k words)
User Total Titanicmark2 9 -
Loading…
-
Loading…
Prologue: The Beginning
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 2, 3020
Free World's League Capital, Atreus
Captain-General's Parliament Office
Early Afternoon
The day's work had begun in earnest. There were plans to prepare, arguments to mediate and a nation to maintain. Another typical, standard day managing the Free Worlds League. Parliament would reconvene to discuss the aftermath of Archon Steiner's peace proposal again tomorrow, with an expected length of 10 hours. Another session of Parliament arguing and discussing the same points they had made last session.
Lunch had come and go too quickly. Captain General Janos Marik left the mostly finished meal off to the side. Perhaps there would be time to have the rest later before evening. He indulged in some idle sips of coffee as he worked.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
The Captain-General nearly bit his tongue as the office alarms suddenly blared. [No…] Raid Alarms. He froze, fingers paused mid key-stroke. A raid? Janos looked up from his noteputer. On Atreus itself!? The leather chair squealed as he shot up. His mind quickly went to a darker place. No one would attack the capital world of the Free Worlds League without a truly staggering force. And help from the inside. How much damage would this force deal to Atreus, and what would have to be done in retaliation? He squashed the errant thought as the security detail barged into the room. Plans for retaliation would come later. Guards and a small number of SAFE agents flooded into the office, appointed SAFE liaison James Leblanc at their head.
The liaison looked pale. There was a wild, barely suppressed panic in his eyes. A dark pit grew in Janos' gut. This was the most perturbed he'd ever seen the man. Not even Anton had shaken Leblanc this much.
SAFE would handle securing the office. They would catch up after their work was done. "Report," he demanded as the guards parted. Leblanc walked alongside him as the full detail formed around them, secretarial staff close behind. The SAFE agent took out a tablet, displaying an unknown vessel and SAFE's gathered data.
The image was grainy, most likely taken from a far distance via satellite. It had a hard, unforgiving rectangular shape, with little to no visible curves or round edges. The front was the only exception. A slightly curved block, marginally taller than the main body of the ship. From prow to stern, it was covered in golden decorations and unknown red iconography. Empty gray cogs prominently sat among the designs. A singular colossal cannon sat exposed atop the front of the vessel. Large three barreled turrets were clustered near the front and back of the vessel on all four sides, with seldom few for the center. Instead, a quartet of large sunken cannons lined both sides of the ship near the center. [Fixed broadside guns?]
[5.5 billion km from Atreus, and approaching at an estimated 1.05 G's…] The vessel was approaching from above the Atreus system. That was far. Outside the edge of the system far. Much too far for any kind of successful raid. Another jump deeper into the system? Reconnaissance?
"This vessel appeared approximately 5 hours ago, with no detectable emergence signature, in a purple flash of light." Leblanc stammered, erratically swiping through the report. A video played. In the void of space, a yawning swirling purple circle appeared. The vessel ponderously emerged. Trails of purple lighting raked up and down the ship. An ovoid shimmering purple field flickered around the ship before disappearing.
Before he could even respond to that alarming detail, Leblanc switched to a different dataset. Whatever Leblanc wanted to say, he couldn't get it out, eyes darting up and down as he mulled over the information. Janos suppressed his growing frown, turning away from the increasingly distraught man. The agent was barely able to keep himself together. "Captain General. The vessel is…is an estimated 16 kilometers long," the man admitted.
He turned back so hard he stumbled, arms pinwheeling to regain balance. A guard neatly caught Janos and helped him to his feet. It was barely noticed as they made their way to the Palace's Command Center. What? Had he heard that correctly? "Agent Leblanc, please repeat that," Janos asked calmly. Some of the guards, most of his secretaries and Leblanc flinched as his voice echoed down the halls. Perhaps his ears had decided to spontaneously stop working. The metal…the material cost alone would be astronomical. If it were that large, then…The cannons on that vessel would have to be the size of jumpships. Maybe even larger.
His blood froze. It took effort not to just fall down and stay there, waiting for this strange nightmare to end. Goosebumps rode up and down his body as he came to a stop. "SAFE and the Ministry of Communication have confirmed it. Multiple times. It has not responded to any hails-" Leblanc was still speaking, and for the life of him, he couldn't hear a word of it.
The Free Worlds League was in danger. An unknown vessel, likely massing more than the entirety of the League's jumpship fleet, would soon breach the Atreus system. Atreus itself was under the potential threat of total orbital bombardment. SLDF was the first answer that came to mind. Could even they make such a vessel? Aliens? Another power? He was panicking.
!
Janos took a deep breath, held it, and closed his eyes, taking care to keep his face composed. Leblanc stopped talking, mid-sentence. As the discomfort built in his chest, he exhaled, and mostly stuffed the panic and fear away. In the newfound silence, he quickly considered his options.
Order the stock market frozen to prevent a crash. Resolution 288. At the very least. The furthest use of it since the fall of Star League. There could be no room for conflict from the members of the League. Immediate activation of nuclear stockpiles. Deterrent at best, the only choice at worst. Was there anything else that could be done immediately? It would have to do. The Free Worlds League needed him. He started to walk again.
"Johnson." The secretary stiffened at his name being called. "Contact the Ministry of Trade. Have the stock market frozen and have them prepare to deal with the aftermath. Has Speaker Steward determined the state of Parliament?" Janos asked Leblanc. Hector Steward had only held the position of Speaker of Parliament for 2 or so years, and as a mid-session appointment after the sudden death of Stephanie Alvarez. Just barely enough time to deeply establish himself even as the Earl of Steward.
With Parliament due to reconvene tomorrow, there was a chance they may be nowhere near the Palace.
"Only 35% of Parliament is confirmed present in the building Captain General," Leblanc replied, his eyes widening in realization. "Then in that case," Janos intoned, turning back to his staff. "Inform all members of Parliament, that in this unprecedented time of crisis, under Resolution 288, I, Captain-General Janos Marik assume all powers and authority necessary to protect the Free Worlds League, its people, and its interests.
I hereby declare a state of emergency. Contact the Ministry of War, they are to prepare all nuclear weapons on Atreus and to have all military forces on Atreus prepare to repel any potential invasion." He made sure to emphasize the potential.
The return to the ever-present politics was ironically a helpful balm on his nerves. He was more than familiar with that than this.
Agent Leblanc's noteputer chimed. The screen shifted to display a message. In fact, as Janos looked closer, it was from the Director of SAFE. VESSEL HAS JUMPED. VESSEL IS NOW 4,000 KILOMETERS DIRECTLY ABOVE ASTREUS NORTH POLE. It proclaimed.
The Palace Alarms suddenly blared. Outside he could even hear the city's sirens scream and bellow.
The guards flinched. One took out his earpiece. The secretaries and staffs' devices began to ring. Even his personal phone. He fished out the ringing device, cheerfully singing the national anthem. 'Unknown Number' his phone unhelpfully displayed. Warily, he answered the call. Beep.
A deep echoing metallic voice spoke, cutting through the deafening alarms.
"This is the Indomitable Spirit, last surviving vessel of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Humanity is no longer alone in the galaxy. Hostile alien life confirmed! I REPEAT, HOSTILE ALIEN LIFE CONFIRMED!"
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Comstar Station
HPG Control Center
Afternoon
"How soon until we can broadcast!" Precentor Atreus demanded. "10 minutes Precentor," the technician responded as she and her staff frantically prepared the HPG for another broadcast. Even now ROM was frantically collecting any data it could gather. The Precentor suppressed another curse. He had elected to send a message immediately to the First Circuit, ensuring that if the warship was hostile and did bombard Atreus, some news would reach Comstar. He didn't expect it to somehow jump to right outside Atreus' orbit. They may need to send even more as the situation evolves.
The crowds of officials and people frantically sending their own priority messages wasn't helping either. He'd need to impose a limit if Atreus' population continued this kind of pace. His station wasn't supposed to be due for replacement parts for at least 2 months.
Sending so many successive HPG messages so quickly might very well cripple the station. Hopefully, Blake willing, his haste wouldn't cause irreparable damage. He quickly made his way to a nearby wall phone, navigating the clustered control center as the flustered technicians worked. There was nothing he could do but wait as the minutes agonizingly passed.
A few questions with the observatory and the ROM office revealed no actionable intelligence. The vessel had not oriented its massive weapons towards Atreus, nor had it made any moves after its no doubt Sphere-shattering broadcast, holding 4,000 km above Atreus' North Pole. Aliens. The thought was hard to reconcile. Hostile entities, capable of ending whatever civilization could build things like the "Indomitable Spirit".
The name only brought more concerns. He vaguely knows about the old adage. Of the "indomitable human spirit", and humanity's ability to defeat any problem, no matter how difficult or how long. It said much about the people who had made the vessel. To him, they had accepted that they had lost, but would not give up. And now, what did they do? They had come to the Inner Sphere. To drag them into this war.
[Blake help us all.]
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit,
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Afternoon
The magi reported a successful transmission on all frequencies. Hopefully this would end…hmmm. 'Well' wasn't the right word. I tsk'd at the thought, my new metal voice echoing through the silent bridge.
Slowly the many tubes and wires connecting me to the command throne detached. My awareness lessened. The connection between myself, the Indomitable, and the 660,000 remaining crew closed. Once again I saw only through my own eye. The cybernetic eye whirred and clicked as it reconnected to my nervous system. It finished with one final brief spark of pain behind the false eye.
I made my way up from the throne, taking care not to scratch it anymore than I had with my claws. They would need to be changed to more friendly appearing appendages. The three mechadendrites connected to my power pack and by extension my back idly flexed in the air. Only one mechadendrite on the surface. Anymore and I would make a fool of myself. Managing a mechadendrite was like using an arm with twice the fingers and joints, requiring a great deal of attention and practice to properly use. The various screens adorning the bridge switched to Atreus.
I took a brief moment to admire the view. The sight from here was beautiful. I had to orient the ship so that its main guns wouldn't face the world below, but the cameras mounted on the "underside" would suffice. I saw the glittering lights on Atreus' dark side and the slow movement of jumpships, dropships and all manner of spacecraft fly through the void of space. All with the rising run in the background. Admittingly most of them were flying away from here in case any fighting broke out, but it was still nice.
With a mental command, I saved the 'memory' of the event. I would be able to enjoy the moment again, when if I ever needed a little pick me up. One of the very few benefits with having 10% of my brain replaced with machinery. Soon, I would request an opportunity to land and brief the Captain-General on the Orks. The materials and falsified evidence were all waiting in the landers, fully fueled and ready. The magi would send the pre-recorded message in 10 minutes. In the meantime, I would head to my quarters/medical lab, and switch to a more acceptable appearance.
I swiftly boarded the small hover craft waiting outside the bridge and made way towards the service train running up and down the ship. The craft dipped slightly at my weight and the archmagos piloting it, but it reported that the craft would still be able to make the journey.
And then, the real work would begin.
Helm. Damned Helm. Everyone else just stole the stupid fucking thing and dropped it on Katrina or Hanse, but I couldn't do that. The Free Worlds League, Capellan Confederation and Federated Suns sat on the southern border of the Inner Sphere. They were most likely to be attacked first by the Orks. I had to distribute the Helm Core, somehow.
I still couldn't reach a decision on it. I didn't know the full geopolitical situation in the Inner Sphere and Periphery. It would be so easy to simply seize the cache and mass distribute it to every power that I could, Holy Shroud be damned. But what if the Great Houses went to war? What if Comstar panicked and interdicted everyone? That would leave, uh, the Clans as the next organized and (mostly) unified polity. I shuddered at the thought. The idea of fully supporting those eugenics raving lunatics almost made what little skin I had left crawl.
The only other option was to hold it hostage. To turn it into leverage. Force anyone who wanted it to come to Terra and sign a ceasefire agreement. Which I would need to enforce if I couldn't convince Comstar to help. Twisting their arms like that would leave me few friends and nothing to really stop them from breaking it and going to war anyway.
The mindwiped magi were no help either. The only advice they seemed to come up without "sufficient enough" data was just threaten them all and slowly seize the Inner Sphere's means of production over the next 2 centuries. Maybe supplant Comstar in the meantime.
And worst of all, my own material needs. I needed support, of some kind. With another mental command, I pulled the files the magi had painstakingly assembled and reviewed, over and over again. Six months, if I held on till the very end. That was it. The maximum time before this ship would be a drifting broken down hulk. Empty. Unable to jump. Unable to fight. A ticking time bomb filled with horrors and unreplaceable machinery.
The thought of it all made the world feel small. It made me feel small.
[Prologue End.]
Story can also be found on sb, where it is completely up to date (Link here). I'll be posting the rest here when I have spare time.
Free World's League Capital, Atreus
Captain-General's Parliament Office
Early Afternoon
The day's work had begun in earnest. There were plans to prepare, arguments to mediate and a nation to maintain. Another typical, standard day managing the Free Worlds League. Parliament would reconvene to discuss the aftermath of Archon Steiner's peace proposal again tomorrow, with an expected length of 10 hours. Another session of Parliament arguing and discussing the same points they had made last session.
Lunch had come and go too quickly. Captain General Janos Marik left the mostly finished meal off to the side. Perhaps there would be time to have the rest later before evening. He indulged in some idle sips of coffee as he worked.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
The Captain-General nearly bit his tongue as the office alarms suddenly blared. [No…] Raid Alarms. He froze, fingers paused mid key-stroke. A raid? Janos looked up from his noteputer. On Atreus itself!? The leather chair squealed as he shot up. His mind quickly went to a darker place. No one would attack the capital world of the Free Worlds League without a truly staggering force. And help from the inside. How much damage would this force deal to Atreus, and what would have to be done in retaliation? He squashed the errant thought as the security detail barged into the room. Plans for retaliation would come later. Guards and a small number of SAFE agents flooded into the office, appointed SAFE liaison James Leblanc at their head.
The liaison looked pale. There was a wild, barely suppressed panic in his eyes. A dark pit grew in Janos' gut. This was the most perturbed he'd ever seen the man. Not even Anton had shaken Leblanc this much.
SAFE would handle securing the office. They would catch up after their work was done. "Report," he demanded as the guards parted. Leblanc walked alongside him as the full detail formed around them, secretarial staff close behind. The SAFE agent took out a tablet, displaying an unknown vessel and SAFE's gathered data.
The image was grainy, most likely taken from a far distance via satellite. It had a hard, unforgiving rectangular shape, with little to no visible curves or round edges. The front was the only exception. A slightly curved block, marginally taller than the main body of the ship. From prow to stern, it was covered in golden decorations and unknown red iconography. Empty gray cogs prominently sat among the designs. A singular colossal cannon sat exposed atop the front of the vessel. Large three barreled turrets were clustered near the front and back of the vessel on all four sides, with seldom few for the center. Instead, a quartet of large sunken cannons lined both sides of the ship near the center. [Fixed broadside guns?]
[5.5 billion km from Atreus, and approaching at an estimated 1.05 G's…] The vessel was approaching from above the Atreus system. That was far. Outside the edge of the system far. Much too far for any kind of successful raid. Another jump deeper into the system? Reconnaissance?
"This vessel appeared approximately 5 hours ago, with no detectable emergence signature, in a purple flash of light." Leblanc stammered, erratically swiping through the report. A video played. In the void of space, a yawning swirling purple circle appeared. The vessel ponderously emerged. Trails of purple lighting raked up and down the ship. An ovoid shimmering purple field flickered around the ship before disappearing.
Before he could even respond to that alarming detail, Leblanc switched to a different dataset. Whatever Leblanc wanted to say, he couldn't get it out, eyes darting up and down as he mulled over the information. Janos suppressed his growing frown, turning away from the increasingly distraught man. The agent was barely able to keep himself together. "Captain General. The vessel is…is an estimated 16 kilometers long," the man admitted.
He turned back so hard he stumbled, arms pinwheeling to regain balance. A guard neatly caught Janos and helped him to his feet. It was barely noticed as they made their way to the Palace's Command Center. What? Had he heard that correctly? "Agent Leblanc, please repeat that," Janos asked calmly. Some of the guards, most of his secretaries and Leblanc flinched as his voice echoed down the halls. Perhaps his ears had decided to spontaneously stop working. The metal…the material cost alone would be astronomical. If it were that large, then…The cannons on that vessel would have to be the size of jumpships. Maybe even larger.
His blood froze. It took effort not to just fall down and stay there, waiting for this strange nightmare to end. Goosebumps rode up and down his body as he came to a stop. "SAFE and the Ministry of Communication have confirmed it. Multiple times. It has not responded to any hails-" Leblanc was still speaking, and for the life of him, he couldn't hear a word of it.
The Free Worlds League was in danger. An unknown vessel, likely massing more than the entirety of the League's jumpship fleet, would soon breach the Atreus system. Atreus itself was under the potential threat of total orbital bombardment. SLDF was the first answer that came to mind. Could even they make such a vessel? Aliens? Another power? He was panicking.
!
Janos took a deep breath, held it, and closed his eyes, taking care to keep his face composed. Leblanc stopped talking, mid-sentence. As the discomfort built in his chest, he exhaled, and mostly stuffed the panic and fear away. In the newfound silence, he quickly considered his options.
Order the stock market frozen to prevent a crash. Resolution 288. At the very least. The furthest use of it since the fall of Star League. There could be no room for conflict from the members of the League. Immediate activation of nuclear stockpiles. Deterrent at best, the only choice at worst. Was there anything else that could be done immediately? It would have to do. The Free Worlds League needed him. He started to walk again.
"Johnson." The secretary stiffened at his name being called. "Contact the Ministry of Trade. Have the stock market frozen and have them prepare to deal with the aftermath. Has Speaker Steward determined the state of Parliament?" Janos asked Leblanc. Hector Steward had only held the position of Speaker of Parliament for 2 or so years, and as a mid-session appointment after the sudden death of Stephanie Alvarez. Just barely enough time to deeply establish himself even as the Earl of Steward.
With Parliament due to reconvene tomorrow, there was a chance they may be nowhere near the Palace.
"Only 35% of Parliament is confirmed present in the building Captain General," Leblanc replied, his eyes widening in realization. "Then in that case," Janos intoned, turning back to his staff. "Inform all members of Parliament, that in this unprecedented time of crisis, under Resolution 288, I, Captain-General Janos Marik assume all powers and authority necessary to protect the Free Worlds League, its people, and its interests.
I hereby declare a state of emergency. Contact the Ministry of War, they are to prepare all nuclear weapons on Atreus and to have all military forces on Atreus prepare to repel any potential invasion." He made sure to emphasize the potential.
The return to the ever-present politics was ironically a helpful balm on his nerves. He was more than familiar with that than this.
Agent Leblanc's noteputer chimed. The screen shifted to display a message. In fact, as Janos looked closer, it was from the Director of SAFE. VESSEL HAS JUMPED. VESSEL IS NOW 4,000 KILOMETERS DIRECTLY ABOVE ASTREUS NORTH POLE. It proclaimed.
The Palace Alarms suddenly blared. Outside he could even hear the city's sirens scream and bellow.
The guards flinched. One took out his earpiece. The secretaries and staffs' devices began to ring. Even his personal phone. He fished out the ringing device, cheerfully singing the national anthem. 'Unknown Number' his phone unhelpfully displayed. Warily, he answered the call. Beep.
A deep echoing metallic voice spoke, cutting through the deafening alarms.
"This is the Indomitable Spirit, last surviving vessel of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Humanity is no longer alone in the galaxy. Hostile alien life confirmed! I REPEAT, HOSTILE ALIEN LIFE CONFIRMED!"
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Comstar Station
HPG Control Center
Afternoon
"How soon until we can broadcast!" Precentor Atreus demanded. "10 minutes Precentor," the technician responded as she and her staff frantically prepared the HPG for another broadcast. Even now ROM was frantically collecting any data it could gather. The Precentor suppressed another curse. He had elected to send a message immediately to the First Circuit, ensuring that if the warship was hostile and did bombard Atreus, some news would reach Comstar. He didn't expect it to somehow jump to right outside Atreus' orbit. They may need to send even more as the situation evolves.
The crowds of officials and people frantically sending their own priority messages wasn't helping either. He'd need to impose a limit if Atreus' population continued this kind of pace. His station wasn't supposed to be due for replacement parts for at least 2 months.
Sending so many successive HPG messages so quickly might very well cripple the station. Hopefully, Blake willing, his haste wouldn't cause irreparable damage. He quickly made his way to a nearby wall phone, navigating the clustered control center as the flustered technicians worked. There was nothing he could do but wait as the minutes agonizingly passed.
A few questions with the observatory and the ROM office revealed no actionable intelligence. The vessel had not oriented its massive weapons towards Atreus, nor had it made any moves after its no doubt Sphere-shattering broadcast, holding 4,000 km above Atreus' North Pole. Aliens. The thought was hard to reconcile. Hostile entities, capable of ending whatever civilization could build things like the "Indomitable Spirit".
The name only brought more concerns. He vaguely knows about the old adage. Of the "indomitable human spirit", and humanity's ability to defeat any problem, no matter how difficult or how long. It said much about the people who had made the vessel. To him, they had accepted that they had lost, but would not give up. And now, what did they do? They had come to the Inner Sphere. To drag them into this war.
[Blake help us all.]
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit,
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Afternoon
The magi reported a successful transmission on all frequencies. Hopefully this would end…hmmm. 'Well' wasn't the right word. I tsk'd at the thought, my new metal voice echoing through the silent bridge.
Slowly the many tubes and wires connecting me to the command throne detached. My awareness lessened. The connection between myself, the Indomitable, and the 660,000 remaining crew closed. Once again I saw only through my own eye. The cybernetic eye whirred and clicked as it reconnected to my nervous system. It finished with one final brief spark of pain behind the false eye.
I made my way up from the throne, taking care not to scratch it anymore than I had with my claws. They would need to be changed to more friendly appearing appendages. The three mechadendrites connected to my power pack and by extension my back idly flexed in the air. Only one mechadendrite on the surface. Anymore and I would make a fool of myself. Managing a mechadendrite was like using an arm with twice the fingers and joints, requiring a great deal of attention and practice to properly use. The various screens adorning the bridge switched to Atreus.
I took a brief moment to admire the view. The sight from here was beautiful. I had to orient the ship so that its main guns wouldn't face the world below, but the cameras mounted on the "underside" would suffice. I saw the glittering lights on Atreus' dark side and the slow movement of jumpships, dropships and all manner of spacecraft fly through the void of space. All with the rising run in the background. Admittingly most of them were flying away from here in case any fighting broke out, but it was still nice.
With a mental command, I saved the 'memory' of the event. I would be able to enjoy the moment again, when if I ever needed a little pick me up. One of the very few benefits with having 10% of my brain replaced with machinery. Soon, I would request an opportunity to land and brief the Captain-General on the Orks. The materials and falsified evidence were all waiting in the landers, fully fueled and ready. The magi would send the pre-recorded message in 10 minutes. In the meantime, I would head to my quarters/medical lab, and switch to a more acceptable appearance.
I swiftly boarded the small hover craft waiting outside the bridge and made way towards the service train running up and down the ship. The craft dipped slightly at my weight and the archmagos piloting it, but it reported that the craft would still be able to make the journey.
And then, the real work would begin.
Helm. Damned Helm. Everyone else just stole the stupid fucking thing and dropped it on Katrina or Hanse, but I couldn't do that. The Free Worlds League, Capellan Confederation and Federated Suns sat on the southern border of the Inner Sphere. They were most likely to be attacked first by the Orks. I had to distribute the Helm Core, somehow.
I still couldn't reach a decision on it. I didn't know the full geopolitical situation in the Inner Sphere and Periphery. It would be so easy to simply seize the cache and mass distribute it to every power that I could, Holy Shroud be damned. But what if the Great Houses went to war? What if Comstar panicked and interdicted everyone? That would leave, uh, the Clans as the next organized and (mostly) unified polity. I shuddered at the thought. The idea of fully supporting those eugenics raving lunatics almost made what little skin I had left crawl.
The only other option was to hold it hostage. To turn it into leverage. Force anyone who wanted it to come to Terra and sign a ceasefire agreement. Which I would need to enforce if I couldn't convince Comstar to help. Twisting their arms like that would leave me few friends and nothing to really stop them from breaking it and going to war anyway.
The mindwiped magi were no help either. The only advice they seemed to come up without "sufficient enough" data was just threaten them all and slowly seize the Inner Sphere's means of production over the next 2 centuries. Maybe supplant Comstar in the meantime.
And worst of all, my own material needs. I needed support, of some kind. With another mental command, I pulled the files the magi had painstakingly assembled and reviewed, over and over again. Six months, if I held on till the very end. That was it. The maximum time before this ship would be a drifting broken down hulk. Empty. Unable to jump. Unable to fight. A ticking time bomb filled with horrors and unreplaceable machinery.
The thought of it all made the world feel small. It made me feel small.
[Prologue End.]
Story can also be found on sb, where it is completely up to date (Link here). I'll be posting the rest here when I have spare time.
Informational: Current Loot at Beginning of Story (Subject to minor changes/expansion)
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
1. The Indomitable Spirit: A Frankenship from a number of Mechanicus classes.
The Indomitable is 16 kilometers long, 3 kilometers wide and 2 kilometers tall. The vessel is primarily equipped with a 1.5 kilometer long Novacannon along the top, 40 long range energy lance turrets (12 on the top and bottom, 8 on the sides) and 4 broadside cannons on each side. Its databanks have been carefully edited to remove any mention of the Imperium and by extension anything from Warhammer 40k
While lightly armed in comparison to other vessels in Warhammer 40k, the Indomitable makes up for it in sheer carrying capacity. There are hundreds of storage areas and 4 colossal hangers to carry and offload numerous vessels of any size present in the Inner Sphere,
It features:
An enhanced Warp Drive and Gellar field. Requiring no astropaths or Astromicon to make accurate and safe warp travel.
-Max Distance: 500 light years in a single, instantaneous jump. Able to jump twice a day without repercussions.
A mass teleportarium, capable of teleporting 6,000 tons of material, up to 20,000 kilometers.
Four Titan drop pods, capable of independent non-ftl space travel.
Twenty Configurable Mass Production Factory Lines (Currently quened to a number of signature technologies)
Moderate Scale Cloning Bay (Empty)
-Capable of producing 10,000 clones a year.
Expanded medical and cybernetics facility
Darktech holding cells (Max Capacity)
The craft has had all extreme mechanicus iconography removed.
The changing of servo skulls to squat floating disks is still ongoing, despite priority status. Expected end date: 3025.
2. Two Warlord Class Titans: The Ion Rex and Protean Wrath.
Standard Warlord Titan loadout, with additional equipment available in storage. The pair will be renamed upon the formation of a new Intergalactic Organization.
3. Enhanced Computer Systems: The Command Node
The backbone of this vessel. The assigned Captain can control all networked mechanicus personnel and maneuver the vessel by themselves. Features a darktech computing system, derived from Votaan technology. Requires a direct invasive connection to use.
4. Mechanicus Data Packet
The Protagonist has been given innate knowledge of certain mechanicus technologies.
In order of quality:
Cybernetics: Near Total Mastery
Astronavigation: Advanced
Computer Sciences: Advanced, with exceptions.
Medicine/Biology: Proficient
Physics: Proficient
Materials/Chemistry: Proficient
All other fields: Extreme Amateur, passing knowledge
5. Complete Star Map of the Entire Inner Sphere, established Periphery, a significant portion of the deeper Periphery (up to 1000 light years) from current Inner Sphere borders, and Clan space prior to 3000.
6. The Expanded Argos Super Lostech Map and Database, detailing every SLDF and Amaris cache prior to and after the Amaris Coup and SLDF Exodus.
7. Complete Helm Core Location and Security Access Data
8. The Blank Slate:
A de-aging Primarch, who will lose all previous memories after 40 years in its de-aging chamber. In the event of premature release, the Primarch will retain all prior memories and return to a fully grown state. It is Perturabo.
9. Iron Warriors Squad (10)
While just as brain dead and effectively lobotomized as the rest of the mechanicus staff, they are still Astartes. There is no medicae, blank, psyker or techmarine among their number.
10. Last Minute Changes:
The Protagonist or a designated agent may return to the CYOA screen once and make additional boon purchases. Enhanced costs for new boons.
11. Cleaned up Orks:
The Orks have no recollection of the Imperium. The ork's scrap vessels have no chaos daemons or living creatures from any other Warhammer faction, with the exception of trophies or looted equipment.
The Indomitable is 16 kilometers long, 3 kilometers wide and 2 kilometers tall. The vessel is primarily equipped with a 1.5 kilometer long Novacannon along the top, 40 long range energy lance turrets (12 on the top and bottom, 8 on the sides) and 4 broadside cannons on each side. Its databanks have been carefully edited to remove any mention of the Imperium and by extension anything from Warhammer 40k
While lightly armed in comparison to other vessels in Warhammer 40k, the Indomitable makes up for it in sheer carrying capacity. There are hundreds of storage areas and 4 colossal hangers to carry and offload numerous vessels of any size present in the Inner Sphere,
It features:
An enhanced Warp Drive and Gellar field. Requiring no astropaths or Astromicon to make accurate and safe warp travel.
-Max Distance: 500 light years in a single, instantaneous jump. Able to jump twice a day without repercussions.
A mass teleportarium, capable of teleporting 6,000 tons of material, up to 20,000 kilometers.
Four Titan drop pods, capable of independent non-ftl space travel.
Twenty Configurable Mass Production Factory Lines (Currently quened to a number of signature technologies)
Moderate Scale Cloning Bay (Empty)
-Capable of producing 10,000 clones a year.
Expanded medical and cybernetics facility
Darktech holding cells (Max Capacity)
The craft has had all extreme mechanicus iconography removed.
The changing of servo skulls to squat floating disks is still ongoing, despite priority status. Expected end date: 3025.
2. Two Warlord Class Titans: The Ion Rex and Protean Wrath.
Standard Warlord Titan loadout, with additional equipment available in storage. The pair will be renamed upon the formation of a new Intergalactic Organization.
3. Enhanced Computer Systems: The Command Node
The backbone of this vessel. The assigned Captain can control all networked mechanicus personnel and maneuver the vessel by themselves. Features a darktech computing system, derived from Votaan technology. Requires a direct invasive connection to use.
4. Mechanicus Data Packet
The Protagonist has been given innate knowledge of certain mechanicus technologies.
In order of quality:
Cybernetics: Near Total Mastery
Astronavigation: Advanced
Computer Sciences: Advanced, with exceptions.
Medicine/Biology: Proficient
Physics: Proficient
Materials/Chemistry: Proficient
All other fields: Extreme Amateur, passing knowledge
5. Complete Star Map of the Entire Inner Sphere, established Periphery, a significant portion of the deeper Periphery (up to 1000 light years) from current Inner Sphere borders, and Clan space prior to 3000.
6. The Expanded Argos Super Lostech Map and Database, detailing every SLDF and Amaris cache prior to and after the Amaris Coup and SLDF Exodus.
7. Complete Helm Core Location and Security Access Data
8. The Blank Slate:
A de-aging Primarch, who will lose all previous memories after 40 years in its de-aging chamber. In the event of premature release, the Primarch will retain all prior memories and return to a fully grown state. It is Perturabo.
9. Iron Warriors Squad (10)
While just as brain dead and effectively lobotomized as the rest of the mechanicus staff, they are still Astartes. There is no medicae, blank, psyker or techmarine among their number.
10. Last Minute Changes:
The Protagonist or a designated agent may return to the CYOA screen once and make additional boon purchases. Enhanced costs for new boons.
11. Cleaned up Orks:
The Orks have no recollection of the Imperium. The ork's scrap vessels have no chaos daemons or living creatures from any other Warhammer faction, with the exception of trophies or looted equipment.
Informational: Imperial Names Changed to better fit in
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
Will expand as the story progresses
Servo-skull>Servodrone
Servitor>Unnamed to avoid aggravating Capellan Confederacy, and mostly erased from files
Abhuman>Variant
Ogryn>Giant
Ratling>Halfling
Imperial Guard>(The) Guard
Imperial Knight>Knight
Sisters of Battle: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
Office of the Commissiariat: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
Imperial Cult: Disbanded. Removed from records
The Inquisition: Concealed from records.
Servo-skull>Servodrone
Servitor>Unnamed to avoid aggravating Capellan Confederacy, and mostly erased from files
Abhuman>Variant
Ogryn>Giant
Ratling>Halfling
Imperial Guard>(The) Guard
Imperial Knight>Knight
Sisters of Battle: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
Office of the Commissiariat: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
Imperial Cult: Disbanded. Removed from records
The Inquisition: Concealed from records.
Informational: State of the Adeptus Mechanicus at Story Start
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
The databanks and personnel aboard the Indomitable carry millennia of Ork combat data. Lacking any true explanation for the data, Malcador was forced to conduct extensive combat operations to provide a plausible source of the data and to further scout the Ork forces.
After 5 months of operations, the surviving Imperial and Mechanicus forces have been gutted in exchange for vital infrastructure attacks and data collection.
[------]
I don't think the numbers are to off for what something like the Indomitable Spirit. I used Manhatten Island as a comparison point since its has a similiar-ish profile to the Indomitable. Approx. 59.13 square kilometers with a population of 1.69 million.
A number of evacuees from the fleet managed to board the Indomitable before it had to flee from the battle.
The Indomitable is 48.1 square kilometers at base, but its 2km high. With loses of 2.261 million and a surviving population of 660,000, the Indomitable carried almost 3 million people. The rest of the space is taken up by storage, the 4 main hangers, the factory lines, cloning bay, Darktech cells, and other space taking facilities.
So it should all round about for use of space. I don't want to get to dredged in volume and human "sardining", but a rough estimate on the Indomitable's carrying capacity will be important for how many Battletech regiments and dropships I can stuff onto it in the future.
After 5 months of operations, the surviving Imperial and Mechanicus forces have been gutted in exchange for vital infrastructure attacks and data collection.
Total losses of standard front line forces: 2,150,000
Approx 931,000 Mechanicus Armed Forces
Approx 537,00 techpriests
Approx 351,000 Imperial Guard
Approx 63,000 Sisters of Battle
Approx 268,000 crewmembers/menials
Many, many servitors
Special War Assets Lost:
Total Specialist losses: Approx 113,180
Approx 72,000 High Ranking Magos
Approx 41,000 War Automata
Approx 367 Knight Platforms and accompanying retinue/equipment (Chance of Ork Salvage high)
5 Elite Ordo Xeno strike teams (100 total, completely wiped out)
18 Vindicare Assassins
60 (All) Eversors
8 Culexus Assassins
Perturabo's Armor (Salvage in storage)
Superheavy vehicles:
1 Warhound Titan (Confirmed Entirely Destroyed)
1 Reaver Titan (Confirmed Extremely Damaged, 68% destroyed before evacuation)
19 Baneblades/Variants (At least 9 have been "Looted")
2 Deathstrike mobile platforms
5 Capital Imperialis
Astartes Assets:
40 Iron Warriors
2 Mastodon Heavy Transports
8 Fellblade Superheavy tanks (3 Completely destroyed)
2 Astraeus Superheavy tanks (1 Completely destroyed)
1 Contemptor Dreadnaught
2 Leviathan Dreadnaughts (1 pilot recovered)
Approx 931,000 Mechanicus Armed Forces
Approx 537,00 techpriests
Approx 351,000 Imperial Guard
Approx 63,000 Sisters of Battle
Approx 268,000 crewmembers/menials
Many, many servitors
Special War Assets Lost:
Total Specialist losses: Approx 113,180
Approx 72,000 High Ranking Magos
Approx 41,000 War Automata
Approx 367 Knight Platforms and accompanying retinue/equipment (Chance of Ork Salvage high)
5 Elite Ordo Xeno strike teams (100 total, completely wiped out)
18 Vindicare Assassins
60 (All) Eversors
8 Culexus Assassins
Perturabo's Armor (Salvage in storage)
Superheavy vehicles:
1 Warhound Titan (Confirmed Entirely Destroyed)
1 Reaver Titan (Confirmed Extremely Damaged, 68% destroyed before evacuation)
19 Baneblades/Variants (At least 9 have been "Looted")
2 Deathstrike mobile platforms
5 Capital Imperialis
Astartes Assets:
40 Iron Warriors
2 Mastodon Heavy Transports
8 Fellblade Superheavy tanks (3 Completely destroyed)
2 Astraeus Superheavy tanks (1 Completely destroyed)
1 Contemptor Dreadnaught
2 Leviathan Dreadnaughts (1 pilot recovered)
Estimated 42 million Orks in planetside operations
Estimated 1 million Orks in orbital bombardment strikes
Estimated 15 million Orks in space operations
77 Mass production 'facilities' (Defined as factories capable of producing substantial war material for Ork Wagh)
Ork Critical Assets
6 Gargant factories (Totally destroyed)
8 Reaver/Warlord Titan equivalent Gargants (4 Totally destroyed)
31 Warships (9 were Capital ships)
3 Shipyards
Entire Leadership of "Weirdboyz" on 2 planets
All major Warbosses and over 60% of Lieutenants on 4 planets
Ork Composition:
Largely mixed composition. All 6 Main Ork clans observed. All main variants of Orks observed in high numbers. Currently imbalanced ratio of Ork leadership to boys after operations.
Significant number of Ork warships possess weak Void Shields. Behemoth site of major Ork fighting. Over 70% of Ork fleet assets last seen fighting over it, 6 weeks before departure to Inner Sphere.
Estimated 1 million Orks in orbital bombardment strikes
Estimated 15 million Orks in space operations
77 Mass production 'facilities' (Defined as factories capable of producing substantial war material for Ork Wagh)
Ork Critical Assets
6 Gargant factories (Totally destroyed)
8 Reaver/Warlord Titan equivalent Gargants (4 Totally destroyed)
31 Warships (9 were Capital ships)
3 Shipyards
Entire Leadership of "Weirdboyz" on 2 planets
All major Warbosses and over 60% of Lieutenants on 4 planets
Ork Composition:
Largely mixed composition. All 6 Main Ork clans observed. All main variants of Orks observed in high numbers. Currently imbalanced ratio of Ork leadership to boys after operations.
Significant number of Ork warships possess weak Void Shields. Behemoth site of major Ork fighting. Over 70% of Ork fleet assets last seen fighting over it, 6 weeks before departure to Inner Sphere.
Remaining Mechanicus Forces:
Mechanicus Armed Forces: Approx 205,000
Imperial Guard: Approx 27,700
Sisters of Battle: Approx 10,100 (Transferred to Guard)
Hammer Divisions (Augmented Ogyrn): Approx 10,300
Knight Pilots: Approx 500
Inquisitors: 10
Inquisition Agents: 80
Imperial Assassins: Total 80
34 Vindicare
15 Callidus
11 Culexus
20 Venenum
Legionnes Astartes
10 Standard Iron Warriors
1 Leviathan Dreadnought
Perturabo: In stasis
Dark Mechanicus: 200
Psykers: 20
Blanks: 40
Knight Platforms:
Armiger Pattern: 54 Engines
Questoris Pattern: 132 Engines
Dominus Pattern: 35 Engines
Total Standard Knight Engines: 221 Knights
Ceratus Pattern: 21
Acastus Pattern: 2
Lexicanum of Imperial Knights
Mechanicus Armed Forces: Approx 205,000
Imperial Guard: Approx 27,700
Sisters of Battle: Approx 10,100 (Transferred to Guard)
Hammer Divisions (Augmented Ogyrn): Approx 10,300
Knight Pilots: Approx 500
Inquisitors: 10
Inquisition Agents: 80
Imperial Assassins: Total 80
34 Vindicare
15 Callidus
11 Culexus
20 Venenum
Legionnes Astartes
10 Standard Iron Warriors
1 Leviathan Dreadnought
Perturabo: In stasis
Dark Mechanicus: 200
Psykers: 20
Blanks: 40
Knight Platforms:
Armiger Pattern: 54 Engines
Questoris Pattern: 132 Engines
Dominus Pattern: 35 Engines
Total Standard Knight Engines: 221 Knights
Ceratus Pattern: 21
Acastus Pattern: 2
Lexicanum of Imperial Knights
[------]
I don't think the numbers are to off for what something like the Indomitable Spirit. I used Manhatten Island as a comparison point since its has a similiar-ish profile to the Indomitable. Approx. 59.13 square kilometers with a population of 1.69 million.
A number of evacuees from the fleet managed to board the Indomitable before it had to flee from the battle.
The Indomitable is 48.1 square kilometers at base, but its 2km high. With loses of 2.261 million and a surviving population of 660,000, the Indomitable carried almost 3 million people. The rest of the space is taken up by storage, the 4 main hangers, the factory lines, cloning bay, Darktech cells, and other space taking facilities.
So it should all round about for use of space. I don't want to get to dredged in volume and human "sardining", but a rough estimate on the Indomitable's carrying capacity will be important for how many Battletech regiments and dropships I can stuff onto it in the future.
Last edited:
Chapter 1: First Contact
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit,
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Late Afternoon
Two hours or so after changing my augments to something less likely to get me mistaken for an alien myself, the League's response came, transmitted over a private channel they had forwarded to me. I elected to remain only partially connected to the complete command node and left the bulk of effort operating the ship to the magi.
The League's government required me to arrive with and enter the Parliament building with no more than 10 guards. Any vehicles or Battlemechs exiting my Lander would be taken as a hostile act. I was to be escorted to a Parliament Palace Landing Pad by no less than 50 Aerospace fighters and 3 dropships. All of this conveyed to me by one "Hector Steward, Speaker of Parliament". He sounded calm enough over the broadcast shortly following my jump into Atreus orbit.
I couldn't detect any hesitation or change in tone when he mentioned the Parliament. Curious. The magi had quickly detected the broadcasts declaring martial law. Unfortunately I couldn't position any satellites or the Indomitable itself over the location to have a look. The magi reported an excess of sensor sweeps pointed towards the ship.
A fair enough precaution. I had informed him that the most important alien samples I had recovered were mostly biohazards that would have profound effects on Atreus if they escaped and asked how they would like me to do with any physical evidence. To no surprise whatsoever when I responded to their request for elaboration with "extremely invasive spore particles that will overwhelm Atreus' biosphere and turn the planet into a hostile alien world", I was asked to refrain from bringing them to Atreus until the Captain-General and Parliament had made a decision. In fact, I was told to wait again. In hindsight, perhaps "will" was the incorrect choice, and may have made my response subtly threatening. Hopefully they would not attempt to "scrub me down" after I land.
I couldn't exactly lie about it either by omission or outright. There wasn't enough time to repair any potential damage to my reputation to stay an heeded voice in Galactic Affairs. I would need an iron tight reputation as a honest and fair individual. And besides that, no one could afford for a Great House's capital to become an ork world, especially one on the southern edge. Hammering in the danger of ork spores will be vital to any long term survival.
Another hour or so passed as I waited. I had decided to spend time going over my briefing, and what I was calling "The Helm Proposal".
One of the consoles lining the bridge beeped. The archmagos manning the station turned to me, speaking in the mechanicus' lingua technis. Ah, it was Speaker Steward.
"Indomitable Actual, this is Hector Steward. The Captain-General requests to instead meet aboard the space station Olimar. Transmitting coordinates now and revised landing instructions now."
Oh. That was a rather speedy decision. Worrying so for a divided polity like the Free World's League. From what I understood, the Captain-General while in theory the de-facto ruler, the position was more often than not hamstrung by the Parliament and the numerous competing interests in the Free World's League. Had the House Lord managed to successfully execute this little seizure of power?
"I accept your request Speaker Steward. I only ask you bring a number of your computer systems with you. I suspect our computer systems suffer a degree of technological divergence and will need to properly reformat my data."
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit,
Olimar Space Station
Soon to be early Evening
I was still held to the request (but really more a demand in order to proceed) of 10 guards. Five would be skitarii rangers, The rest would be the most... "normal" looking Archmagos among the upper ranks I could find. They would double as both my guards and staff. The skitarii and Archmagos marched in unison as I puppeted them aboard my ship, mechadendrites and all. The command node would have made this task simple, but I needed to spend as little time using that lethal machine as I could. The colossal gates of the landing bay silently slid closed as we departed.
The "Olimar" was a small, quaint station, sitting in orbit around Atreus, hanging almost directly above its capital city. My sensors detected a number of hidden patchwork changes and repairs made to the station itself. I had needed to change from my intended heavy duty lander to a repurposed and modified Astartes' Thunderhawk gunship. The main cannon and dedicated ammo bin were removed and replaced with a minor void shield and additional communications equipment. While I doubted myself or my staff could survive operating the craft at its maximum limits, the defensive profile was sufficient for my needs.
A small swarm of spacecraft hovered around the space station.
The number of Aerospace fighters, dropships and security measures had doubled. Presumably, the Captain-General himself was present. The ship softly rocked as it landed. Outside, I could hear the bay doors seal and the sharp hiss as oxygen was quickly pumped into hanger. It was almost disturbing how calm I felt. In a few short hours, I would plunge all of human space into chaos as I upended everything they knew and ushered what I could only call a second age of war. Actually...
[+]Query: Neural Regulator, Status.[+]
[-]Neural Regulator Routine: Running at 57% capacity. Stress Level appr-[+]
[]Sub-Routine Emotion Regulator: Running at 39% Capacity. Update: 40% Cap-[]
I closed the notification.
[+]Warning. Neural Regulator approaching 60% threshold. Inject formula 5-17 Y/N?[+]
[-]Override. Code: Summit level 2.[-]
[+]Command: Disable notifications, 10 hours. Override at 80% Stress Marker.[+]
[-]Implementing...Executed.[-]
If I failed to negotiate a joint retrieval of the Helm cache, I may end up fighting the Captain-General and his forces for the core. I evaluated the chances, calculating force projections, logistics and travel times. One of the Archmagi was directed to help me refine my projections. Was this why so many of the Mechanicus stayed so attached to their modifications? Working without them made me feel stupid. Numbers and thoughts came so slowly, and not entirely coherent over the long term either.
{Fabricator-General, the landing zone has been pressurized. Warning, the vessel is simulating gravity via centrifugal forces. This landing zone is under reduced centrifugal forces.} The Archmagos piloting the vessel warbled.
I logged the thoughts for reference at later time.
[-----------------]
Date Unknown
Hyperspace
Time Unknown
The compressed terabytes of information rocketed through space and perhaps, time. They had already passed the worlds closest to Atreus. Comstar adepts frantically forwarding the messages onto the next node in the HPG system. Attached pass-codes and authorization keys conveyed the dire seriousness of the data. Precentor Atreus' efforts could barely delay the frantic messages sent by the rest of Atreus' people that would soon follow. Concealing the information would be an impossible task.
By 6:10 pm Terran time, Comstar's data would close the final leg of its journey, and arrive on Terra.
By the next day, all within the Periphery and Inner Sphere would know.
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Battle Station "Olimar" dropship bay
Early Evening
Captain Brunner watched as the "Adeptus Mechanicus" delegation made their way across the cramped hanger. Guards, banners, decorations and the many other things needed to receive visiting diplomats had been quickly crammed into the loading bay. It was a small mercy that the already limited space on in the bay prevented any members of Parliament or nobility from attending in person.
Just within his peripheral vision, the diplomat meant to receive the Mechanicus' party stiffened. He couldn't blame the man. Brunner could only imagine how the rest of the guards behind him looked. The Captain-General's orders as their dropships frantically departed the spaceport had been clear. No signs of hostility. Nothing to offend them. Only engage if they attacked first. Atreus' and the Free World's League depended on it. It was hard to keep a neutral expression on his face.
They looked like something out of horror movie. Cybernetics. So many cybernetics. Not a single one them was untouched. Cables, eyes, wires, extra limbs, in one case a searchlight, mechanical tentacles and so many other moving parts jutted out of the delegation's red robes and their bodies. He wanted to give one of the guards lining the bay unable to conceal his growing disgust a glare.
Five of what were likely their guards behind them stayed behind and unloaded a small mountain of materials from their ship. Most ominously of all was a towering 3 meter (10 foot) tall gray coffin, bolted and sealed shut. An ugly neon green biohazard sign was painted onto the cover, with the words "Alien Sample 1: Subject 63" emblazoned underneath it.
One them stepped forward, the least inhuman of the group. It mostly stuck to a human shape, aside from a single thin mechanical tendril that wrapped around its right arm and a series of cables jutting out of the upper torso.
It [Was it a boy or girl?] rumbled a deep metallic "Greetings." That voice! The one that had blared over every communications device on Atreus. The Atreuian stock market almost crashed before the Ministry of Trade could completely freeze the market an hour later. Rumor had it that the Captain-General was considering a one day reset to the morning of for the day's trades and exchanges. Brunner was mid transfer down to Atreus with his crew for two days of leave when the speakers and their coms on the dropship blared that terrifying message.
He came to stop and shook the diplomat's hand before reaching for its skull mask.
A lone tired eye surrounded by dark rings stared at them, almost hazily so. In contrast, the cybernetic eye glowed a bright blue. The rest of his face was behind a split light bronze and black mask. "I am the Chief Fabricator, leader of the Adeptus Mechanicus. My name does not translate well into Star League English. Please call me Malcador," he added.
His eyes slowly scanned the diplomat and the hanger bay. "How will you conduct the biohazard test before I meet with the Captain-General?"
Brunner stepped forward.
"Chief Fabricator Malcador," he carefully spoke, suppressing his flinch as the man's(?) eyes almost snapped towards him, the robotic eye making faint clicking sounds as it focused on him. While the "Chief Fabricator" had readily agreed to their demands for a biohazard screening before proceeding to the meeting, the full extent of how they would do so left much to be desired. The arguments over how far the tests would go between the relevant biohazard specialists, military commanders, and even SAFE's own divisions gone on until the last minute.
"Captain Brunner," He introduced himself. Another handshake, and he couldn't suppress the wince at the cold touch of metal. "I will be leading you and your party towards the testing site." Brunner barreled on, even as he felt the diplomats angry glare bore into him.
If the Chief Fabricator took offense, he showed none of it.
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Battle Station "Olimar"
Evening
A secured container of ork spores were carefully handed to them for direct comparison to my person. The thought of holding them in secure storage until a Terran summit had crossed my mind, but the desire to be as informative as possible won over.
I had informed the team that the spores were non-lethal to humans, but would expand and overwhelm most biospheres. More information would be forwarded during the meeting with the Captain-General. The complete biohazard tests had taken an hour. It was a small mercy I could just dull my sense of boredom as the technicians ran their tests and subsequent retests. Instead, I used the time to think, finalize my decisions and politely ignore their attempts to scan me and my augments.
Now, it was time. The final doors aboard the station opened, the burly guards parting for myself and guards.
My first thought, upon coming face to face with the Captain-General was that he was tired. Both physically and mentally. My augmetics indicated a number of concealed and unknowingly open signs of stress. [Elevated heart rate, concealed stress lines,] And most tellingly, the borderline excessively large steaming mug of coffee next to him. Despite that, there was a very hard edge to his eyes, a focus that admittingly disturbed me. His posture almost radiated a serious and controlled air.
He sat at the center of a large oval table, the long side running to his left and right. A number of officials sat next to him. Behind him was a small legion of dressed guards in Marik purple, all bearing very non-ornamental looking weaponry.
"Greetings Captain-General," I said, as I ordered my staff to attempt to fit into the plush seats as best they could. My own seat ominously creaked under my 130 kilogram (287 pound) frame. I pointingly ignored the minute sounds of fabric tearing as the metal augments on myself and my staff dug in.
"Before we begin, thank you for arranging to meet with me on such notice, and my sincere apologies for any disruption this may have caused you." Janos suppressed his response, as my scans quickly read the micro-expressions they could detect.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Anger, Irritation, Excess Stress. Estimated Accuracy-49%{+}
I continued. Hopefully the faux pas would be forgiven in light of the information I'm volunteering. Wasn't that how favorable negotiations were supposed to go? Listen to the speaker volunteer information while you hold your cards?
"I wish to inform you of the alien threat, the compensation I am wish to give for the inconvenience, and a proposal for a joint research and defense initiative. Which would you like to hear first?"
The Captain-General carefully considered my words before replying.
[Chapter 1 End]
Atreus Orbit,
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Late Afternoon
Two hours or so after changing my augments to something less likely to get me mistaken for an alien myself, the League's response came, transmitted over a private channel they had forwarded to me. I elected to remain only partially connected to the complete command node and left the bulk of effort operating the ship to the magi.
The League's government required me to arrive with and enter the Parliament building with no more than 10 guards. Any vehicles or Battlemechs exiting my Lander would be taken as a hostile act. I was to be escorted to a Parliament Palace Landing Pad by no less than 50 Aerospace fighters and 3 dropships. All of this conveyed to me by one "Hector Steward, Speaker of Parliament". He sounded calm enough over the broadcast shortly following my jump into Atreus orbit.
I couldn't detect any hesitation or change in tone when he mentioned the Parliament. Curious. The magi had quickly detected the broadcasts declaring martial law. Unfortunately I couldn't position any satellites or the Indomitable itself over the location to have a look. The magi reported an excess of sensor sweeps pointed towards the ship.
A fair enough precaution. I had informed him that the most important alien samples I had recovered were mostly biohazards that would have profound effects on Atreus if they escaped and asked how they would like me to do with any physical evidence. To no surprise whatsoever when I responded to their request for elaboration with "extremely invasive spore particles that will overwhelm Atreus' biosphere and turn the planet into a hostile alien world", I was asked to refrain from bringing them to Atreus until the Captain-General and Parliament had made a decision. In fact, I was told to wait again. In hindsight, perhaps "will" was the incorrect choice, and may have made my response subtly threatening. Hopefully they would not attempt to "scrub me down" after I land.
I couldn't exactly lie about it either by omission or outright. There wasn't enough time to repair any potential damage to my reputation to stay an heeded voice in Galactic Affairs. I would need an iron tight reputation as a honest and fair individual. And besides that, no one could afford for a Great House's capital to become an ork world, especially one on the southern edge. Hammering in the danger of ork spores will be vital to any long term survival.
Another hour or so passed as I waited. I had decided to spend time going over my briefing, and what I was calling "The Helm Proposal".
One of the consoles lining the bridge beeped. The archmagos manning the station turned to me, speaking in the mechanicus' lingua technis. Ah, it was Speaker Steward.
"Indomitable Actual, this is Hector Steward. The Captain-General requests to instead meet aboard the space station Olimar. Transmitting coordinates now and revised landing instructions now."
Oh. That was a rather speedy decision. Worrying so for a divided polity like the Free World's League. From what I understood, the Captain-General while in theory the de-facto ruler, the position was more often than not hamstrung by the Parliament and the numerous competing interests in the Free World's League. Had the House Lord managed to successfully execute this little seizure of power?
"I accept your request Speaker Steward. I only ask you bring a number of your computer systems with you. I suspect our computer systems suffer a degree of technological divergence and will need to properly reformat my data."
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit,
Olimar Space Station
Soon to be early Evening
I was still held to the request (but really more a demand in order to proceed) of 10 guards. Five would be skitarii rangers, The rest would be the most... "normal" looking Archmagos among the upper ranks I could find. They would double as both my guards and staff. The skitarii and Archmagos marched in unison as I puppeted them aboard my ship, mechadendrites and all. The command node would have made this task simple, but I needed to spend as little time using that lethal machine as I could. The colossal gates of the landing bay silently slid closed as we departed.
The "Olimar" was a small, quaint station, sitting in orbit around Atreus, hanging almost directly above its capital city. My sensors detected a number of hidden patchwork changes and repairs made to the station itself. I had needed to change from my intended heavy duty lander to a repurposed and modified Astartes' Thunderhawk gunship. The main cannon and dedicated ammo bin were removed and replaced with a minor void shield and additional communications equipment. While I doubted myself or my staff could survive operating the craft at its maximum limits, the defensive profile was sufficient for my needs.
A small swarm of spacecraft hovered around the space station.
The number of Aerospace fighters, dropships and security measures had doubled. Presumably, the Captain-General himself was present. The ship softly rocked as it landed. Outside, I could hear the bay doors seal and the sharp hiss as oxygen was quickly pumped into hanger. It was almost disturbing how calm I felt. In a few short hours, I would plunge all of human space into chaos as I upended everything they knew and ushered what I could only call a second age of war. Actually...
[+]Query: Neural Regulator, Status.[+]
[-]Neural Regulator Routine: Running at 57% capacity. Stress Level appr-[+]
[]Sub-Routine Emotion Regulator: Running at 39% Capacity. Update: 40% Cap-[]
I closed the notification.
[+]Warning. Neural Regulator approaching 60% threshold. Inject formula 5-17 Y/N?[+]
[-]Override. Code: Summit level 2.[-]
[+]Command: Disable notifications, 10 hours. Override at 80% Stress Marker.[+]
[-]Implementing...Executed.[-]
If I failed to negotiate a joint retrieval of the Helm cache, I may end up fighting the Captain-General and his forces for the core. I evaluated the chances, calculating force projections, logistics and travel times. One of the Archmagi was directed to help me refine my projections. Was this why so many of the Mechanicus stayed so attached to their modifications? Working without them made me feel stupid. Numbers and thoughts came so slowly, and not entirely coherent over the long term either.
{Fabricator-General, the landing zone has been pressurized. Warning, the vessel is simulating gravity via centrifugal forces. This landing zone is under reduced centrifugal forces.} The Archmagos piloting the vessel warbled.
I logged the thoughts for reference at later time.
[-----------------]
Date Unknown
Hyperspace
Time Unknown
The compressed terabytes of information rocketed through space and perhaps, time. They had already passed the worlds closest to Atreus. Comstar adepts frantically forwarding the messages onto the next node in the HPG system. Attached pass-codes and authorization keys conveyed the dire seriousness of the data. Precentor Atreus' efforts could barely delay the frantic messages sent by the rest of Atreus' people that would soon follow. Concealing the information would be an impossible task.
By 6:10 pm Terran time, Comstar's data would close the final leg of its journey, and arrive on Terra.
By the next day, all within the Periphery and Inner Sphere would know.
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Battle Station "Olimar" dropship bay
Early Evening
Captain Brunner watched as the "Adeptus Mechanicus" delegation made their way across the cramped hanger. Guards, banners, decorations and the many other things needed to receive visiting diplomats had been quickly crammed into the loading bay. It was a small mercy that the already limited space on in the bay prevented any members of Parliament or nobility from attending in person.
Just within his peripheral vision, the diplomat meant to receive the Mechanicus' party stiffened. He couldn't blame the man. Brunner could only imagine how the rest of the guards behind him looked. The Captain-General's orders as their dropships frantically departed the spaceport had been clear. No signs of hostility. Nothing to offend them. Only engage if they attacked first. Atreus' and the Free World's League depended on it. It was hard to keep a neutral expression on his face.
They looked like something out of horror movie. Cybernetics. So many cybernetics. Not a single one them was untouched. Cables, eyes, wires, extra limbs, in one case a searchlight, mechanical tentacles and so many other moving parts jutted out of the delegation's red robes and their bodies. He wanted to give one of the guards lining the bay unable to conceal his growing disgust a glare.
Five of what were likely their guards behind them stayed behind and unloaded a small mountain of materials from their ship. Most ominously of all was a towering 3 meter (10 foot) tall gray coffin, bolted and sealed shut. An ugly neon green biohazard sign was painted onto the cover, with the words "Alien Sample 1: Subject 63" emblazoned underneath it.
One them stepped forward, the least inhuman of the group. It mostly stuck to a human shape, aside from a single thin mechanical tendril that wrapped around its right arm and a series of cables jutting out of the upper torso.
It [Was it a boy or girl?] rumbled a deep metallic "Greetings." That voice! The one that had blared over every communications device on Atreus. The Atreuian stock market almost crashed before the Ministry of Trade could completely freeze the market an hour later. Rumor had it that the Captain-General was considering a one day reset to the morning of for the day's trades and exchanges. Brunner was mid transfer down to Atreus with his crew for two days of leave when the speakers and their coms on the dropship blared that terrifying message.
He came to stop and shook the diplomat's hand before reaching for its skull mask.
A lone tired eye surrounded by dark rings stared at them, almost hazily so. In contrast, the cybernetic eye glowed a bright blue. The rest of his face was behind a split light bronze and black mask. "I am the Chief Fabricator, leader of the Adeptus Mechanicus. My name does not translate well into Star League English. Please call me Malcador," he added.
His eyes slowly scanned the diplomat and the hanger bay. "How will you conduct the biohazard test before I meet with the Captain-General?"
Brunner stepped forward.
"Chief Fabricator Malcador," he carefully spoke, suppressing his flinch as the man's(?) eyes almost snapped towards him, the robotic eye making faint clicking sounds as it focused on him. While the "Chief Fabricator" had readily agreed to their demands for a biohazard screening before proceeding to the meeting, the full extent of how they would do so left much to be desired. The arguments over how far the tests would go between the relevant biohazard specialists, military commanders, and even SAFE's own divisions gone on until the last minute.
"Captain Brunner," He introduced himself. Another handshake, and he couldn't suppress the wince at the cold touch of metal. "I will be leading you and your party towards the testing site." Brunner barreled on, even as he felt the diplomats angry glare bore into him.
If the Chief Fabricator took offense, he showed none of it.
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Battle Station "Olimar"
Evening
A secured container of ork spores were carefully handed to them for direct comparison to my person. The thought of holding them in secure storage until a Terran summit had crossed my mind, but the desire to be as informative as possible won over.
I had informed the team that the spores were non-lethal to humans, but would expand and overwhelm most biospheres. More information would be forwarded during the meeting with the Captain-General. The complete biohazard tests had taken an hour. It was a small mercy I could just dull my sense of boredom as the technicians ran their tests and subsequent retests. Instead, I used the time to think, finalize my decisions and politely ignore their attempts to scan me and my augments.
Now, it was time. The final doors aboard the station opened, the burly guards parting for myself and guards.
My first thought, upon coming face to face with the Captain-General was that he was tired. Both physically and mentally. My augmetics indicated a number of concealed and unknowingly open signs of stress. [Elevated heart rate, concealed stress lines,] And most tellingly, the borderline excessively large steaming mug of coffee next to him. Despite that, there was a very hard edge to his eyes, a focus that admittingly disturbed me. His posture almost radiated a serious and controlled air.
He sat at the center of a large oval table, the long side running to his left and right. A number of officials sat next to him. Behind him was a small legion of dressed guards in Marik purple, all bearing very non-ornamental looking weaponry.
"Greetings Captain-General," I said, as I ordered my staff to attempt to fit into the plush seats as best they could. My own seat ominously creaked under my 130 kilogram (287 pound) frame. I pointingly ignored the minute sounds of fabric tearing as the metal augments on myself and my staff dug in.
"Before we begin, thank you for arranging to meet with me on such notice, and my sincere apologies for any disruption this may have caused you." Janos suppressed his response, as my scans quickly read the micro-expressions they could detect.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Anger, Irritation, Excess Stress. Estimated Accuracy-49%{+}
I continued. Hopefully the faux pas would be forgiven in light of the information I'm volunteering. Wasn't that how favorable negotiations were supposed to go? Listen to the speaker volunteer information while you hold your cards?
"I wish to inform you of the alien threat, the compensation I am wish to give for the inconvenience, and a proposal for a joint research and defense initiative. Which would you like to hear first?"
The Captain-General carefully considered my words before replying.
[Chapter 1 End]
CrazedGamma1721
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
- Feb 23, 2018
- Messages
- 119
- Likes received
- 563
Nice to see this here as well, can't wait to see what will happen when you catch up with Spacebattles.
Chapter 2: Briefing Room-Atreus
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening
Janos laid out his hands onto the table, and stared me right in my flesh and blood eye. "How long do we have?" He asked, the question rang out. I could see the tension into the room skyrocket. The stone faced officials stiffened up even more at his question. Their small group of writers and secretaries sitting to the sidelines watched us with hawkish stares. "Unknown. They could arrive tomorrow, next week or even a decade from now," I responded. Janos' eyes slightly narrowed, not quite glaring at me. A deliberate choice or accident? I suppressed a grimace at the Captain-General's apparent ire.
And more worryingly the alarming levels of disgust and hate I was detecting from many people in the room. Eight out of the fifteen guards, three of Janos' party and all but one of the secretaries were suppressing varying elevated levels of disgust, spiking especially when directly looking at...my face! My face and my staff's more obvious impacts. I thought the League's views of cybernetics was bad, but this was unnerving. There was context I was missing. Something I would need to find out. Was Helm already dead in the water if this is what I could expect from its people?
I quickly discarded thoughts of trying to appear more human. The wreck of muscle, circuitry and bone that was my old face was frankly more horrifying than the face plate I had donned.
Dammit. the only thing left to do was just go forward and hope Janos could keep them in line.
With a mental command, a modified servoskull, now a squat black disk, floated forward. I took a moment to consider how much newfound irritation I had with the things. Of the 4 billion servo skulls slowly being refitted to remove any human remains, only 20 million had been changed. I ran out of materials to keep changing the stupid things. I would need to rename them soon. The guards tensed at the slow drone's approach. It stopped just to my right and activated its hologram projector.
A simplified 2d map of the Southern Inner Sphere hovered above the tabletop, sans borders. Only the capital worlds on the map were present. The Southern border faced me, giving Janos a top down view. The view of the divided 5 colored circle moved south. Thousands of small white dots, signifying planets unknown to the League slowly passed. The marker denoting distance from Terra grew.
1000 lights years.
2000 light years.
At 2600 light years, the map stopped. Eight green dots appeared, scattered over a distance of mere light years.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus are a fleet based people. We abandoned our homeworld decades ago." The League officials responded with muted looks of disbelief. "My people have mainly stayed mobile, to better explore the stars," I answered. A League official finally broke their unified silence, a man in some kind of naval uniform, dyed purple with golden highlights. "How many vessels-"
Janos coughed, the completely fake kind. The completely obvious kind people did to interrupt someone.
When that wasn't enough, a pointed look was enough to make the officer finally back down. The Captain-General took a moment to take a long drink of his coffee. On some unspoken cue, the rest of his staff settled down. The Guards loosened the grip on their weapons just a tad.
"What are they," He questioned. An almost undetectable tinge of worry in his voice.
"A humanoid fungal race, currently unnamed." The hologram changed to an ork laying down on a metal slab, one I had dissected shortly following the frantic escape after my arrival in this universe. "Despite their visual similarities, you will find they have no genetic overlap with humanity, whatsoever."
A height chart was added for scale. "The average member of the race stands approximately 2.65 meters tall standing straight, but they are hunchbacked and rarely fully extend their legs. They are incredibly durable."
The hologram shifted to a series of tests I had conducted on orks I had..."grown".
"Under my studies, members of the species can easily survive temperatures down to -50 degrees and up to 120 degrees celsius with no visible change in health. They can survive in the vacuum of space for 10 minutes unaided, and five test subjects made a seemingly full recovery when rescued after 5 minutes. One had its head removed and promptly placed back on, with no assistance beyond medical staples. It was observed at full health, 20 hours later, with faint scaring. No biological weapon tested has been effective on subjects that can survive the initial affliction, with the exception of extensive neurological damage."
During the various tests, the xenologists among my staff concluded these orks were a hardier breed than normal. Thankfully nowhere near on the level of the Beast's, but worryingly close to Ghazghkull Thraka's elite forces. A mere offshoot in the vast cosmos of the galaxy.
With each successive test viewing Janos and his staff got paler and paler. "My god in heaven..." A suited man to Janos' far left murmured. The Captain-General himself fared no better, a complete look of horrified disbelief on his face. A officer seated next to the no-doubt disgraced naval commander furiously began writing down figures and...weapons platforms' details? I looked away. Best not to pry.
"The primary concern however is their physiology. All members emit spores as a constant process. As far as I have observed, it never stops and in the event of death any remaining spores are immediately released in one potent dispersal. The corpse's remaining resources turn completely to spore production. The aforementioned spores appeared on the hologram. An Archmagos to my right gently took out a sealed adamantium container, no bigger than a pencil case with a small glass opening and pushed it forward. The built in lights and microscope gave a deep showing of the few green flecks stored inside.
As the boxed was passed from around, I continued. "These spores are the greatest concern and a long term threat to any human civilization. They serve as the foundation for their entire ecosystem and reproduction process. However, after vigorous testing, we can confirm that spores do not behave in any manner similar to bacteria, viruses, or parasites. Inhaling, consuming or contact with the spores by themselves is not harmful to health."
The officials looked very much like they did not believe me. I didn't push the issue. They would, either by their own testing or first encounter with them.
"How do we destroy the spores?" An older woman to Janos' immediate right asked. She spoke with a surprising calm despite the unease the rest were undergoing. Scans indicated...a surprising level of control. She was in a state of surprise and fear, but managed to significantly suppress any external reaction.
"Heat. Spores have been observed completely breaking down under intense amounts of heat, with consistent and instantaneous results on all lifeforms at 190 degrees celsius. At this time, there are no other consistent methods of removal excluding weapons of mass destruction." Upon closer observation, the rest of the room seemed to give her much more respect then the officer from before. Another archmagos reported rising levels of irritation in Janos.
Who was this woman?
As if reading my mind she said: "Catherine Humphreys, a pleasure to meet you Chief Fabricator Malcador."
I perused my memory banks for a brief second.
"By any chance related to George Humphreys, first Speaker of Parliament?" I quickly responded, before the silence stretched to long.
"That is correct, Chief Fabricator."
Janos seized control of the conversation, not giving Catherine any attention whatsoever, even as she held a patient, dare I say faintly smug, smile. "How do the spores create more of them?"
"The spores quickly scatter in the air, settling wherever they land. They will quickly germinate, turning into a variety of fungi based flora. Either by themselves or with other spores. They will quickly form a unique biosphere, overwhelming any and all natural flora by simply out competeting them."
At my command, one of the magi circled the table, began handing out materials. Dataslates and painstakingly made reports were distributed to each member of the Free World's delegation. I politely ignored the various shudders and suppressed disgust as the magos passed. The Captain-General seemed to consider saying something when Catherine thanked the magos handing her a dataslate, but held his tongue.
Information that had eaten over two months of gathering and documenting. The games and books left much to be desired regarding the exact dangers of orks beyond the immediate physical threat they posed.
"After reaching a critical mass, the alien biosphere will undergo a joint metamorphosis. Underground pods containing various lifeforms will appear as the remaining flora evolve to more complex forms. All possible ecological niches are met by these lifeforms. The process then repeats until the aliens themselves form." A herd of hulking Squiggoths I observed during my raids appeared next on the hologram, roaming alien fields as grot overseers led the them. Unfortunately, I couldn't safely secure any.
I looked around the room. No spare computers of any kind. I mentally tsk'd. "Captain-General, were you forwarded my request for computer systems to analyze to reformat the data gathered?"
Janos looked up from his own dataslate. His brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes, you wish to begin such procedures now?" There was an unspoken question in his eyes, but I couldn't determine what he wanted to ask. There was to many potential questions he no doubt had.
"My staff are capable of reformatting the needed systems in a short period. They will work as the briefing continues."
I gently warbled the command codes and instructions at two of the archmagos to prepare the work as a trio of guards entered the conference room to presumably guide them. The preprogrammed responses and my own connection to directly puppet them should be enough to stop any incidents, I failed to convince myself. Another was tasked to shadow them from here and assist as needed.
My usage of the lingua technis had an unwanted effect on the meeting. Even as they kept their faces mostly clear to my eyes. The increased unease their bodies told me was informative. I was granted some leeway with my mad screaming about alien invaders and the warship in orbit, but now I had pushed to far. To them, I was almost as alien as the orks I was presenting them, not at all helped by the League's varying but common dislike of cybernetics. And I had just abruptly reminded them of it as we were truly getting into the juicy details. A mistake I would need to undo.
Perhaps it was time for a change of subject.
Just few more key details, and I would switch to Helm and New Dallas. The servoskull switched back to the 8 worlds I had brought with me. I scanned the table to see if any were still examining the data.
"The extreme durability of both members and spores makes any planet-fall they successfully commit, a long, but successful invasion of a subject world. In my people's travels there have been perhaps 3 world's with conditions that can support human life and repel alien lifeforms for a time. They are not pleasant to stay on." I warned. The discovery of Catachan 1000 light years into my journey gave me a heart attack. To both my dismay and ghastly benefit, there was no sign of human life on it. Not even a fortification or satellites. It was if the world had been reset to a pre-human state.
Just as the custom boon claimed. No imperial presence aside from my own.
{+}System Order: Archive last 10.5 seconds of thought.{+}
{-}System: Complying. Archiving. Complete.{-}
"These aliens do not age, and rapidly produce. From our calculations, most earthlike worlds would turn in a few short centuries, and would fall even faster if there were large bodies of water for cross continental travel. Any successful defense will leave a world's descendants fighting new alien incursions forever. And they will be incursions.
Of the 60 specimens I have successfully grown aboard the Indomitable, all have been hostile to human life, with no exceptions. Any attempts to bribe or appease with food, weapons or items of value merely delayed hostile attacks. They are effectively 'born' fully grown and ready for combat. This is not helped by the absurd size of their fleet." That earned me a scoff from the Janos. I paused for a moment. "Point taken, Captain-General," I responded, tilting my head in acknowledgement. It was unfortunate I was about to get to the worst of the news.
"My people came to these clusters of worlds following rapidly spreading radio signals. They attacked us immediately."
The Space Hulk hung in the air, easily 2 feet from the table, surrounded by over 600 vessels. It was labeled Behemoth. The warships looked like grains of rice compared to the apocalyptic Hulk. Planets and local stellar phenomena were added. Asteroid fields, a debris field, two moons and the colossal red star appeared. The ork world, a dark ball of green appeared behind the ork fleet. The mechanicus fleet, my fleet, numbering 20 sat on the western edge of the hologram. They were just as big as the Indomitable Spirit, who sat in the far back of the formation, then named the Herculean Effort.
The hologram changed one last time, my head still bowed.
The mechanicus fleet was now on the south east side of the system. Over 250 ork vessels were nothing more than wrecks, and the Space Hulk was battered, with a third of its mass gone. Only the Indomitable remained mostly untouched, fleeing to the system's north, with 30 ork vessels trailing it, slowly gaining. The rest of the fleet was in tatters, huddled around my former flagship, the Destiny Ascension. Despite its powerful weapons and shields, the ork vessels hemmed and circled it, even as they discharged thousands of boarding pods. A ball, eerily like a star, rapidly consumed the Destiny Ascension, the destroyed mechanicus vessels and nearby ork warships. The mass of star matter collapsed and in a brilliant flash detonated. By the end, only the Behemoth and approximately 140 warships remained. A visual shockwave and tide of debris roared across the system. The Indomitable entered warp travel, and the hologram froze.
Someone started crying, I did not look up to see who.
"I have told you all much. There is still more, but I will leave it to the full databases I am transferring to you. I shall change the subject matter to your compensation, and the joint research and defense initiative I wish to form to confront this threat."
[God this looks like a horrible sales pitch.] I hope they didn't see it that way. My staff stood up, and shuffled out of the room. "I can only divulge this to the Captain-General at this time, my apologies." I finally looked up, even as the shame threatened to drown me.
Janos nodded. To my surprise, he had begun to marshal his emotions.
{+}Emotion Scanner: High amounts of Determination. Outrage. Fear. 85% Accuracy.{+}
[Chapter 2 End]
End Notes:
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening
Janos laid out his hands onto the table, and stared me right in my flesh and blood eye. "How long do we have?" He asked, the question rang out. I could see the tension into the room skyrocket. The stone faced officials stiffened up even more at his question. Their small group of writers and secretaries sitting to the sidelines watched us with hawkish stares. "Unknown. They could arrive tomorrow, next week or even a decade from now," I responded. Janos' eyes slightly narrowed, not quite glaring at me. A deliberate choice or accident? I suppressed a grimace at the Captain-General's apparent ire.
And more worryingly the alarming levels of disgust and hate I was detecting from many people in the room. Eight out of the fifteen guards, three of Janos' party and all but one of the secretaries were suppressing varying elevated levels of disgust, spiking especially when directly looking at...my face! My face and my staff's more obvious impacts. I thought the League's views of cybernetics was bad, but this was unnerving. There was context I was missing. Something I would need to find out. Was Helm already dead in the water if this is what I could expect from its people?
I quickly discarded thoughts of trying to appear more human. The wreck of muscle, circuitry and bone that was my old face was frankly more horrifying than the face plate I had donned.
Dammit. the only thing left to do was just go forward and hope Janos could keep them in line.
With a mental command, a modified servoskull, now a squat black disk, floated forward. I took a moment to consider how much newfound irritation I had with the things. Of the 4 billion servo skulls slowly being refitted to remove any human remains, only 20 million had been changed. I ran out of materials to keep changing the stupid things. I would need to rename them soon. The guards tensed at the slow drone's approach. It stopped just to my right and activated its hologram projector.
A simplified 2d map of the Southern Inner Sphere hovered above the tabletop, sans borders. Only the capital worlds on the map were present. The Southern border faced me, giving Janos a top down view. The view of the divided 5 colored circle moved south. Thousands of small white dots, signifying planets unknown to the League slowly passed. The marker denoting distance from Terra grew.
1000 lights years.
2000 light years.
At 2600 light years, the map stopped. Eight green dots appeared, scattered over a distance of mere light years.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus are a fleet based people. We abandoned our homeworld decades ago." The League officials responded with muted looks of disbelief. "My people have mainly stayed mobile, to better explore the stars," I answered. A League official finally broke their unified silence, a man in some kind of naval uniform, dyed purple with golden highlights. "How many vessels-"
Janos coughed, the completely fake kind. The completely obvious kind people did to interrupt someone.
When that wasn't enough, a pointed look was enough to make the officer finally back down. The Captain-General took a moment to take a long drink of his coffee. On some unspoken cue, the rest of his staff settled down. The Guards loosened the grip on their weapons just a tad.
"What are they," He questioned. An almost undetectable tinge of worry in his voice.
"A humanoid fungal race, currently unnamed." The hologram changed to an ork laying down on a metal slab, one I had dissected shortly following the frantic escape after my arrival in this universe. "Despite their visual similarities, you will find they have no genetic overlap with humanity, whatsoever."
A height chart was added for scale. "The average member of the race stands approximately 2.65 meters tall standing straight, but they are hunchbacked and rarely fully extend their legs. They are incredibly durable."
The hologram shifted to a series of tests I had conducted on orks I had..."grown".
"Under my studies, members of the species can easily survive temperatures down to -50 degrees and up to 120 degrees celsius with no visible change in health. They can survive in the vacuum of space for 10 minutes unaided, and five test subjects made a seemingly full recovery when rescued after 5 minutes. One had its head removed and promptly placed back on, with no assistance beyond medical staples. It was observed at full health, 20 hours later, with faint scaring. No biological weapon tested has been effective on subjects that can survive the initial affliction, with the exception of extensive neurological damage."
During the various tests, the xenologists among my staff concluded these orks were a hardier breed than normal. Thankfully nowhere near on the level of the Beast's, but worryingly close to Ghazghkull Thraka's elite forces. A mere offshoot in the vast cosmos of the galaxy.
With each successive test viewing Janos and his staff got paler and paler. "My god in heaven..." A suited man to Janos' far left murmured. The Captain-General himself fared no better, a complete look of horrified disbelief on his face. A officer seated next to the no-doubt disgraced naval commander furiously began writing down figures and...weapons platforms' details? I looked away. Best not to pry.
"The primary concern however is their physiology. All members emit spores as a constant process. As far as I have observed, it never stops and in the event of death any remaining spores are immediately released in one potent dispersal. The corpse's remaining resources turn completely to spore production. The aforementioned spores appeared on the hologram. An Archmagos to my right gently took out a sealed adamantium container, no bigger than a pencil case with a small glass opening and pushed it forward. The built in lights and microscope gave a deep showing of the few green flecks stored inside.
As the boxed was passed from around, I continued. "These spores are the greatest concern and a long term threat to any human civilization. They serve as the foundation for their entire ecosystem and reproduction process. However, after vigorous testing, we can confirm that spores do not behave in any manner similar to bacteria, viruses, or parasites. Inhaling, consuming or contact with the spores by themselves is not harmful to health."
The officials looked very much like they did not believe me. I didn't push the issue. They would, either by their own testing or first encounter with them.
"How do we destroy the spores?" An older woman to Janos' immediate right asked. She spoke with a surprising calm despite the unease the rest were undergoing. Scans indicated...a surprising level of control. She was in a state of surprise and fear, but managed to significantly suppress any external reaction.
"Heat. Spores have been observed completely breaking down under intense amounts of heat, with consistent and instantaneous results on all lifeforms at 190 degrees celsius. At this time, there are no other consistent methods of removal excluding weapons of mass destruction." Upon closer observation, the rest of the room seemed to give her much more respect then the officer from before. Another archmagos reported rising levels of irritation in Janos.
Who was this woman?
As if reading my mind she said: "Catherine Humphreys, a pleasure to meet you Chief Fabricator Malcador."
I perused my memory banks for a brief second.
"By any chance related to George Humphreys, first Speaker of Parliament?" I quickly responded, before the silence stretched to long.
"That is correct, Chief Fabricator."
Janos seized control of the conversation, not giving Catherine any attention whatsoever, even as she held a patient, dare I say faintly smug, smile. "How do the spores create more of them?"
"The spores quickly scatter in the air, settling wherever they land. They will quickly germinate, turning into a variety of fungi based flora. Either by themselves or with other spores. They will quickly form a unique biosphere, overwhelming any and all natural flora by simply out competeting them."
At my command, one of the magi circled the table, began handing out materials. Dataslates and painstakingly made reports were distributed to each member of the Free World's delegation. I politely ignored the various shudders and suppressed disgust as the magos passed. The Captain-General seemed to consider saying something when Catherine thanked the magos handing her a dataslate, but held his tongue.
Information that had eaten over two months of gathering and documenting. The games and books left much to be desired regarding the exact dangers of orks beyond the immediate physical threat they posed.
"After reaching a critical mass, the alien biosphere will undergo a joint metamorphosis. Underground pods containing various lifeforms will appear as the remaining flora evolve to more complex forms. All possible ecological niches are met by these lifeforms. The process then repeats until the aliens themselves form." A herd of hulking Squiggoths I observed during my raids appeared next on the hologram, roaming alien fields as grot overseers led the them. Unfortunately, I couldn't safely secure any.
I looked around the room. No spare computers of any kind. I mentally tsk'd. "Captain-General, were you forwarded my request for computer systems to analyze to reformat the data gathered?"
Janos looked up from his own dataslate. His brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes, you wish to begin such procedures now?" There was an unspoken question in his eyes, but I couldn't determine what he wanted to ask. There was to many potential questions he no doubt had.
"My staff are capable of reformatting the needed systems in a short period. They will work as the briefing continues."
I gently warbled the command codes and instructions at two of the archmagos to prepare the work as a trio of guards entered the conference room to presumably guide them. The preprogrammed responses and my own connection to directly puppet them should be enough to stop any incidents, I failed to convince myself. Another was tasked to shadow them from here and assist as needed.
My usage of the lingua technis had an unwanted effect on the meeting. Even as they kept their faces mostly clear to my eyes. The increased unease their bodies told me was informative. I was granted some leeway with my mad screaming about alien invaders and the warship in orbit, but now I had pushed to far. To them, I was almost as alien as the orks I was presenting them, not at all helped by the League's varying but common dislike of cybernetics. And I had just abruptly reminded them of it as we were truly getting into the juicy details. A mistake I would need to undo.
Perhaps it was time for a change of subject.
Just few more key details, and I would switch to Helm and New Dallas. The servoskull switched back to the 8 worlds I had brought with me. I scanned the table to see if any were still examining the data.
"The extreme durability of both members and spores makes any planet-fall they successfully commit, a long, but successful invasion of a subject world. In my people's travels there have been perhaps 3 world's with conditions that can support human life and repel alien lifeforms for a time. They are not pleasant to stay on." I warned. The discovery of Catachan 1000 light years into my journey gave me a heart attack. To both my dismay and ghastly benefit, there was no sign of human life on it. Not even a fortification or satellites. It was if the world had been reset to a pre-human state.
Just as the custom boon claimed. No imperial presence aside from my own.
{+}System Order: Archive last 10.5 seconds of thought.{+}
{-}System: Complying. Archiving. Complete.{-}
"These aliens do not age, and rapidly produce. From our calculations, most earthlike worlds would turn in a few short centuries, and would fall even faster if there were large bodies of water for cross continental travel. Any successful defense will leave a world's descendants fighting new alien incursions forever. And they will be incursions.
Of the 60 specimens I have successfully grown aboard the Indomitable, all have been hostile to human life, with no exceptions. Any attempts to bribe or appease with food, weapons or items of value merely delayed hostile attacks. They are effectively 'born' fully grown and ready for combat. This is not helped by the absurd size of their fleet." That earned me a scoff from the Janos. I paused for a moment. "Point taken, Captain-General," I responded, tilting my head in acknowledgement. It was unfortunate I was about to get to the worst of the news.
"My people came to these clusters of worlds following rapidly spreading radio signals. They attacked us immediately."
The Space Hulk hung in the air, easily 2 feet from the table, surrounded by over 600 vessels. It was labeled Behemoth. The warships looked like grains of rice compared to the apocalyptic Hulk. Planets and local stellar phenomena were added. Asteroid fields, a debris field, two moons and the colossal red star appeared. The ork world, a dark ball of green appeared behind the ork fleet. The mechanicus fleet, my fleet, numbering 20 sat on the western edge of the hologram. They were just as big as the Indomitable Spirit, who sat in the far back of the formation, then named the Herculean Effort.
The hologram changed one last time, my head still bowed.
The mechanicus fleet was now on the south east side of the system. Over 250 ork vessels were nothing more than wrecks, and the Space Hulk was battered, with a third of its mass gone. Only the Indomitable remained mostly untouched, fleeing to the system's north, with 30 ork vessels trailing it, slowly gaining. The rest of the fleet was in tatters, huddled around my former flagship, the Destiny Ascension. Despite its powerful weapons and shields, the ork vessels hemmed and circled it, even as they discharged thousands of boarding pods. A ball, eerily like a star, rapidly consumed the Destiny Ascension, the destroyed mechanicus vessels and nearby ork warships. The mass of star matter collapsed and in a brilliant flash detonated. By the end, only the Behemoth and approximately 140 warships remained. A visual shockwave and tide of debris roared across the system. The Indomitable entered warp travel, and the hologram froze.
Someone started crying, I did not look up to see who.
"I have told you all much. There is still more, but I will leave it to the full databases I am transferring to you. I shall change the subject matter to your compensation, and the joint research and defense initiative I wish to form to confront this threat."
[God this looks like a horrible sales pitch.] I hope they didn't see it that way. My staff stood up, and shuffled out of the room. "I can only divulge this to the Captain-General at this time, my apologies." I finally looked up, even as the shame threatened to drown me.
Janos nodded. To my surprise, he had begun to marshal his emotions.
{+}Emotion Scanner: High amounts of Determination. Outrage. Fear. 85% Accuracy.{+}
[Chapter 2 End]
End Notes:
- In the FWL's past, Captain-General Gerald Marik had a known penchant for cybernetics. Due to his less than stellar (and later mentally unstable) rule, cybernetics have remained unpopular, and any non-necessary augmentations to the body are discriminated by League society as a whole. His heir, Elise Marik, was allegedly much the same. Their legacy has mostly tainted the perception of cybernetics, both socially and politically.
- Catherine Humphreys is a famous figure in the FWL, and one of Captain-General Janos Marik's biggest critics. She has maintained this position for decades, and can be the one expected to always deny any request or proposal made by the Captain-General.
Chapter 3: The Helm Proposal
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening
Guardsman Smith suppressed a grimace as he and the rest of the guards marched out of the meeting room, but for different reasons than the rest of them. Squad leader Kelly pressed a finger to her comm bead and listened in as her superiors no doubt discussed their assignment on the Olimar. They were too professional to say anything aloud at while on duty, especially with the Mechancius delegation just down the hall.
The red robed figures shambled and skittered back towards the hanger bay, swiftly leaving before the diplomatic party could make any attempts to speak with them. No. They turned to soon on their route. Were they heading to rendezvous with their companions working on the computers?
The aids and secretaries stayed in their own little corner of the hall. The politicians waited a moment just after they turned the corner before speaking. A flurry of observations and discussion as they compared notes, and...for a vocal few, personal impressions.
"Absolutely distasteful. Who would willingly replace their face with a mesh of wires," A diplomat quietly complained to an aging SAFE agent, who merely nodded in agreement.
Smith didn't look, but he could already imagine the suppressed looks of disgust and outrage on his fellow guards' and the politicians' faces. Their professionalism and the dire seriousness of a warship in orbit were the only the things keeping their dislike in check.
He didn't look forward to returning to their barracks when the rest of them would start their own tirades and objections. The Mechanicus had made a strange decision coming to Atreus first. The Free Worlds League never tolerated cybernetics after the horrible rule of Gerald Marik. Terra was a far more neutral and superior option.
Catherine Humphreys gravitated towards the navy, army and SAFE representatives as the three discussed military matters. Unfortunately their whispers were too quiet for him to adequately listen to.
"Why would they even ask us to leave!? There are cameras in the room!" Someone else whispered.
A good question. The risk of a assassination was uncomfortably high. Why would Janos Marik willingly engage in yet another risk was beyond him. The only protection he'd have in there would an automated turret in the ceiling and the SAFE operative in the concealed wall vent. It would take precious seconds for the guards to intervene if anything...undiplomatic happened.
Still, his orders from the local ROM administer and the Precentor were clear. In lieu of word from Precentor ROM and the Primus: observe, and get as best a look into the situation as he could. Precious favors, bribes, connections and more were burned to get him and the other 2 spies scattered aboard the Olimar this close.
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening
The door closed as the last of the guards marched out of the room. I used the time for the everyone to exit the room to calm myself, and allow my Emotion-Regulator to ease my mind into a more productive and more importantly stable state. Drowning in self pity would come much later, if ever. There was work to do.
I turned my head back to Janos. With a mental command, the drone turned off the hologram projector and swung to the left end of the table, awaiting further orders.
I slowly reached into my robes as Janos tensed. The jammer small a made a tiny clunk as I deposited it on the table. It was a small device, merely the size of a soda bottle, albeit more bulky. I wouldn't turn it on yet. Asking for privacy only to have the guards burst in after I jammed all of their surveillance systems would be damaging to this already fragile meeting.
I turned to the concealed wall went and my mechadendrite slowly indicated the hidden cameras and microphones with its laser pointer. "Is it possible for..." I trailed off, trying to inject a small tinge of genuine guilt back into my voice, both to not suddenly "break character" and the (very understandable, but sorely unhelpful) lack of trust. As entertaining as an actual vent sitting guard "in the goddamn walls" was, they had not left their spot. Was it a precaution, or was Comstar already making moves?
Power was diverted to my locator beacon. Worst comes to worst I may very well have to teleport Janos and myself off the Olimar to the Indomitable in the event of a bombing.
The Captain-General considered my words. he gave the wall a knowing look. After a silent few seconds he replied. "Unfortunately, no. How sensitive is this information?" So it was just one of his? Thank goodness. The drone activated its directed sound speaker. "Captain-General, can you hear me?" He suppressed a flinch, resulting in a small shudder, but didn't break eye contact. "Yes I can hear you, but a word of warning in the future." He formally protested.
"My apologies." I paused for a moment. "I wish to speak of why I came to the Free Worlds League first. I wish to discuss the end of lostech." Janos' eyes widened and he froze, completely still. When he made no move to respond, I continued, steadily dropping any hint of sadness.
"There is a cache and two data cores within your borders. One of the cores sits with a cache. With both of them, all losses of knowledge and technology are effectively over. Everything. Jumpships, warships, terraforming, double heat sinks, capital weaponry, casper drones, endosteel, mega-engineering principles, house Cameron exclusive medical technology, and all that made the Star League mighty. I aim to spread the knowledge inside these cores to everyone. Inner Sphere, Periphery, it does not matter who. To better prepare against the invasion, I plan to distribute a sizable portion of the cache to Federated Suns, Capellan Confederation, and southern Periphery nations.
I leaned forward, the table slowly creaking, but firmly holding under my weight. This time, my eyes bore down on the Captain-General, with all the authority I bared.
"I propose this, allow me to copy the cores, and I will guide you to them and disarm their protections and defenses. I will leave you first pick of 55% of the cache, with exceptions of rare technologies and samples for reverse engineering. I am willing to give you first access to a number of key Mechanicus technologies as well. There is one final thing I will distribute to the Free World's League and other nations, but it requires more time.
We can leave at any time. I have all of data needed to locate and secure them.
And after that, after the knowledge to defend ourselves is once again spread to every corner of human space, I will depart for a time to the Pentagon Worlds and the Kerensky Cluster to contact the descendants of the SLDF." I deactivated the directed sound speaker and spoke with my own voice.
"What say you?" With that final sentence, I stopped and leaned back into my seat. My piece was said. I watched the scanner output as his emotional spectrum ran rampant at what I had revealed.
The Captain-General stayed silent. Five minutes passed as he no doubt contemplated my offer.
He drank the rest of his coffee and softly exhaled, having made up his mind.
"Where are they?" he finally responded. There was a growing fervor in his eyes, a need and desire. I took a moment to keep my single tell, my eye, in check. It was no surprise he would want to know exactly where.
"One is on a lost dead world, the other is on a long standing Free Worlds' planet." I evadingly answered. Would he fish for greater concessions? A chance to take the cache for himself?
This reveal was unfortunately required. Helm had to be revealed. I long considered it before, and I was loathe to kill my chances with the Free World's League. An even greater concern was the message or even the perception that if the ends were enough I would go behind a nation's back and take what I wanted. The absolute worst thing he could do now was thank me and end the meeting.
But I had preparations for that. Not many, but they were firm enough.
The fact that we were under watch allowed me to avoid directly answering, but for how long? Janos glanced back at the drone.
Just as the drone booted up, Janos stood up. "Thank you for the information and your offer, Chief Fabricator Malcador. I believe we have a deal. Provided you give me a tour of the Mechanicus' catalogue of goods beforehand." He said. I almost sank back into my chair in disbelief. Just like that?
The simple acceptance made me worry more than if he demanded even more.
"What date do you have in mind?" I conceded, I could see the growing stress lines and marks of fatigue despite his seemingly newfound sense of energy. The promise of an end to lostech and contacting the "SLDF" might be the only thing keeping him fully awake.
"Two days from now, February 4th." He quickly responded. We shook on it, and concluded our meeting. All that was left was a gifts and to deliver the "goods".
We both exited the meeting room, with Janos in the lead. There were no small number of looks of relief sent his way, and a small round of polite applause when he announced that he had reached a deal with the me, pending some more negotiations. My announcement of materials to help further their knowledge and gifts as thanks to Janos was meet with suspicion.
The materials were first. The ork corpse and samples of bioforms were quietly hauled off before we arrived at the hanger.
A large case in the back of the Thunderhawk was unsealed. A suit of customizable power armor was presented, alongside a rosarius and a number of luxury goods. Hopefully the intended message of the Mechanicus as capable peers and possessing talents off the field of battle wouldn't be too twisted by the Free Worlds League's media.
I had debated giving a power sword, but held back. It may be better to just save it for the Coordinator. I'm sure power swords would do well with them. Katrina, Janos, Hanse and Maximillian did not strike me as swordsman types. I was reasonably sure I could never go wrong with a katana when gift giving with the Draconis. I'm sure that wasn't too racist, right?
The gems and exotic fabrics had the least impact, but they at least one or two were impressed with the sheer craftsmanship that went into the 1 foot tall diamond shaped natural amethyst with the League's symbol stylishly carved onto it. My experts remarked that is a literal one in a trillion find even amongst the vast Imperium. By comparison both the power armor and rosarius were much more well received. Especially after I had the suit lift large blocks of metal and I used the rosarius to stop a punch from a skitarii.
We shook hands as for some pictures taken by the his staff. I noted how he seemed to make himself seem not overly pleased with this meeting. For the public, a message to me, or both? I could not say.
As we prepared to depart, Janos and his representatives to a round of biohazard testing and myself to pick up my staff, I made bid them farewell.
{+}Query: Conversion Team Status?{+}
{-}Conversion Team: "Free World's League" cogitators completely unsuitable for data transfer. Conclusion: Systems extremely inadequate in all parameters for exabyte data transfer. Conversion programs complete, no delays.{-}
[-----------------]
February 3, 3020
Atreus
Parliament Landing Pad
Very Early Morning
After a long exhausting round of tests he had finally returned to Atreus.
Janos only gave the wall of yelling news casters and demanding politicians a promise he would give a full public announcement after he had all the details and that for now he had been given reasonable proof of hostile aliens, but of course he would have it extensively tested.
To their credit the Parliament guards had managed to successfully hold back the small but enthusiastic crowd. Even if it had gotten worryingly close as he initially exited the dropship.
He made no mention of it, but the corpse and samples were to remain in orbit, the Chief-Fabricator's warning all too clear. A testing facility would be built elsewhere.
A quick look through the tiny slide window at the gargantuan corpse was enough to mostly convince him they were real. There was a genuine savagery in the alien's face, a hostile animal-like impression that it wouldn't hesitate to rip him in two if it was still alive.
Combined with the initial examinations made by the biologists he had brought, the certainty of Malcador's claims were likely true. Aliens were real, they were hostile, and they would be coming to the Inner Sphere. Sometime.
And made all the more complicated by the cores. Cores, plural. the cache was of value, but if what he promised was true...[An end to lostech.] The offer was most definitely made from a place of desperation. It was all too clear from Malcador's actions, even if he had all the physical tells of a rock.
The frantic need to get the information to him, even at the cost of diplomatic processes and real damages he had inflicted on Atreus and the Free Worlds League economy, of which he would relishly bill the Mechanicus. Why else would he immediately broadcast on an open channel to force his hand? Why else would he give him the offer of a lifetime just to move things along? Why else would he dump exabytes of data on him without any trade or cost? Yes, that desperation would be a good handle to work the Chief-Fabricator. And if he was planned this correctly, his no-doubt all to real supplies issue as well.
Starting with his technology. Non-k/f drive technology, energy shielding, power armor, (politically unusable, but still) advanced cybernetics, foreign materials and who knows what else?
[-----------------]
February 3, 3020
Atreus
Atreus Orbit
Midnight
The Thunderhawk rumbled through the void with all the grace the flying brick could muster.
At this stage there was very small chance for overt hostile acts from the League. The deal was signed, I had hopefully conveyed the scale of the threat, and more importantly, the Indomitable was still in orbit.
I would rest for a while. It would be sorely needed. Tomorrow I contact Comstar, the other House Lords and most of the Periphery powers. Messages to the HPG station would be sent as soon as I returned to schedule the meeting and contact the their diplomats on Atreus.
I would invite Precentor Atreus and perhaps representatives from the other houses aboard to brief them. If I could receive Comstar's official support of my claims, preparing for the invasion would be much simpler.
The more depressingly hard task would be asking Precentor Atreus in no uncertain terms what worlds Comstar wants hidden on the Agros map. There was a wealth of lostech scattered across the Periphery and Inner Sphere even after the Amaris Coop and SLDF exodus.
All on top of somehow convincing him/her I had no idea about Holy Shroud.
[Chapter 3 End]
Ending Notes
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening
Guardsman Smith suppressed a grimace as he and the rest of the guards marched out of the meeting room, but for different reasons than the rest of them. Squad leader Kelly pressed a finger to her comm bead and listened in as her superiors no doubt discussed their assignment on the Olimar. They were too professional to say anything aloud at while on duty, especially with the Mechancius delegation just down the hall.
The red robed figures shambled and skittered back towards the hanger bay, swiftly leaving before the diplomatic party could make any attempts to speak with them. No. They turned to soon on their route. Were they heading to rendezvous with their companions working on the computers?
The aids and secretaries stayed in their own little corner of the hall. The politicians waited a moment just after they turned the corner before speaking. A flurry of observations and discussion as they compared notes, and...for a vocal few, personal impressions.
"Absolutely distasteful. Who would willingly replace their face with a mesh of wires," A diplomat quietly complained to an aging SAFE agent, who merely nodded in agreement.
Smith didn't look, but he could already imagine the suppressed looks of disgust and outrage on his fellow guards' and the politicians' faces. Their professionalism and the dire seriousness of a warship in orbit were the only the things keeping their dislike in check.
He didn't look forward to returning to their barracks when the rest of them would start their own tirades and objections. The Mechanicus had made a strange decision coming to Atreus first. The Free Worlds League never tolerated cybernetics after the horrible rule of Gerald Marik. Terra was a far more neutral and superior option.
Catherine Humphreys gravitated towards the navy, army and SAFE representatives as the three discussed military matters. Unfortunately their whispers were too quiet for him to adequately listen to.
"Why would they even ask us to leave!? There are cameras in the room!" Someone else whispered.
A good question. The risk of a assassination was uncomfortably high. Why would Janos Marik willingly engage in yet another risk was beyond him. The only protection he'd have in there would an automated turret in the ceiling and the SAFE operative in the concealed wall vent. It would take precious seconds for the guards to intervene if anything...undiplomatic happened.
Still, his orders from the local ROM administer and the Precentor were clear. In lieu of word from Precentor ROM and the Primus: observe, and get as best a look into the situation as he could. Precious favors, bribes, connections and more were burned to get him and the other 2 spies scattered aboard the Olimar this close.
[-----------------]
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening
The door closed as the last of the guards marched out of the room. I used the time for the everyone to exit the room to calm myself, and allow my Emotion-Regulator to ease my mind into a more productive and more importantly stable state. Drowning in self pity would come much later, if ever. There was work to do.
I turned my head back to Janos. With a mental command, the drone turned off the hologram projector and swung to the left end of the table, awaiting further orders.
I slowly reached into my robes as Janos tensed. The jammer small a made a tiny clunk as I deposited it on the table. It was a small device, merely the size of a soda bottle, albeit more bulky. I wouldn't turn it on yet. Asking for privacy only to have the guards burst in after I jammed all of their surveillance systems would be damaging to this already fragile meeting.
I turned to the concealed wall went and my mechadendrite slowly indicated the hidden cameras and microphones with its laser pointer. "Is it possible for..." I trailed off, trying to inject a small tinge of genuine guilt back into my voice, both to not suddenly "break character" and the (very understandable, but sorely unhelpful) lack of trust. As entertaining as an actual vent sitting guard "in the goddamn walls" was, they had not left their spot. Was it a precaution, or was Comstar already making moves?
Power was diverted to my locator beacon. Worst comes to worst I may very well have to teleport Janos and myself off the Olimar to the Indomitable in the event of a bombing.
The Captain-General considered my words. he gave the wall a knowing look. After a silent few seconds he replied. "Unfortunately, no. How sensitive is this information?" So it was just one of his? Thank goodness. The drone activated its directed sound speaker. "Captain-General, can you hear me?" He suppressed a flinch, resulting in a small shudder, but didn't break eye contact. "Yes I can hear you, but a word of warning in the future." He formally protested.
"My apologies." I paused for a moment. "I wish to speak of why I came to the Free Worlds League first. I wish to discuss the end of lostech." Janos' eyes widened and he froze, completely still. When he made no move to respond, I continued, steadily dropping any hint of sadness.
"There is a cache and two data cores within your borders. One of the cores sits with a cache. With both of them, all losses of knowledge and technology are effectively over. Everything. Jumpships, warships, terraforming, double heat sinks, capital weaponry, casper drones, endosteel, mega-engineering principles, house Cameron exclusive medical technology, and all that made the Star League mighty. I aim to spread the knowledge inside these cores to everyone. Inner Sphere, Periphery, it does not matter who. To better prepare against the invasion, I plan to distribute a sizable portion of the cache to Federated Suns, Capellan Confederation, and southern Periphery nations.
I leaned forward, the table slowly creaking, but firmly holding under my weight. This time, my eyes bore down on the Captain-General, with all the authority I bared.
"I propose this, allow me to copy the cores, and I will guide you to them and disarm their protections and defenses. I will leave you first pick of 55% of the cache, with exceptions of rare technologies and samples for reverse engineering. I am willing to give you first access to a number of key Mechanicus technologies as well. There is one final thing I will distribute to the Free World's League and other nations, but it requires more time.
We can leave at any time. I have all of data needed to locate and secure them.
And after that, after the knowledge to defend ourselves is once again spread to every corner of human space, I will depart for a time to the Pentagon Worlds and the Kerensky Cluster to contact the descendants of the SLDF." I deactivated the directed sound speaker and spoke with my own voice.
"What say you?" With that final sentence, I stopped and leaned back into my seat. My piece was said. I watched the scanner output as his emotional spectrum ran rampant at what I had revealed.
The Captain-General stayed silent. Five minutes passed as he no doubt contemplated my offer.
He drank the rest of his coffee and softly exhaled, having made up his mind.
"Where are they?" he finally responded. There was a growing fervor in his eyes, a need and desire. I took a moment to keep my single tell, my eye, in check. It was no surprise he would want to know exactly where.
"One is on a lost dead world, the other is on a long standing Free Worlds' planet." I evadingly answered. Would he fish for greater concessions? A chance to take the cache for himself?
This reveal was unfortunately required. Helm had to be revealed. I long considered it before, and I was loathe to kill my chances with the Free World's League. An even greater concern was the message or even the perception that if the ends were enough I would go behind a nation's back and take what I wanted. The absolute worst thing he could do now was thank me and end the meeting.
But I had preparations for that. Not many, but they were firm enough.
The fact that we were under watch allowed me to avoid directly answering, but for how long? Janos glanced back at the drone.
Just as the drone booted up, Janos stood up. "Thank you for the information and your offer, Chief Fabricator Malcador. I believe we have a deal. Provided you give me a tour of the Mechanicus' catalogue of goods beforehand." He said. I almost sank back into my chair in disbelief. Just like that?
The simple acceptance made me worry more than if he demanded even more.
"What date do you have in mind?" I conceded, I could see the growing stress lines and marks of fatigue despite his seemingly newfound sense of energy. The promise of an end to lostech and contacting the "SLDF" might be the only thing keeping him fully awake.
"Two days from now, February 4th." He quickly responded. We shook on it, and concluded our meeting. All that was left was a gifts and to deliver the "goods".
We both exited the meeting room, with Janos in the lead. There were no small number of looks of relief sent his way, and a small round of polite applause when he announced that he had reached a deal with the me, pending some more negotiations. My announcement of materials to help further their knowledge and gifts as thanks to Janos was meet with suspicion.
The materials were first. The ork corpse and samples of bioforms were quietly hauled off before we arrived at the hanger.
A large case in the back of the Thunderhawk was unsealed. A suit of customizable power armor was presented, alongside a rosarius and a number of luxury goods. Hopefully the intended message of the Mechanicus as capable peers and possessing talents off the field of battle wouldn't be too twisted by the Free Worlds League's media.
I had debated giving a power sword, but held back. It may be better to just save it for the Coordinator. I'm sure power swords would do well with them. Katrina, Janos, Hanse and Maximillian did not strike me as swordsman types. I was reasonably sure I could never go wrong with a katana when gift giving with the Draconis. I'm sure that wasn't too racist, right?
The gems and exotic fabrics had the least impact, but they at least one or two were impressed with the sheer craftsmanship that went into the 1 foot tall diamond shaped natural amethyst with the League's symbol stylishly carved onto it. My experts remarked that is a literal one in a trillion find even amongst the vast Imperium. By comparison both the power armor and rosarius were much more well received. Especially after I had the suit lift large blocks of metal and I used the rosarius to stop a punch from a skitarii.
We shook hands as for some pictures taken by the his staff. I noted how he seemed to make himself seem not overly pleased with this meeting. For the public, a message to me, or both? I could not say.
As we prepared to depart, Janos and his representatives to a round of biohazard testing and myself to pick up my staff, I made bid them farewell.
{+}Query: Conversion Team Status?{+}
{-}Conversion Team: "Free World's League" cogitators completely unsuitable for data transfer. Conclusion: Systems extremely inadequate in all parameters for exabyte data transfer. Conversion programs complete, no delays.{-}
[-----------------]
February 3, 3020
Atreus
Parliament Landing Pad
Very Early Morning
After a long exhausting round of tests he had finally returned to Atreus.
Janos only gave the wall of yelling news casters and demanding politicians a promise he would give a full public announcement after he had all the details and that for now he had been given reasonable proof of hostile aliens, but of course he would have it extensively tested.
To their credit the Parliament guards had managed to successfully hold back the small but enthusiastic crowd. Even if it had gotten worryingly close as he initially exited the dropship.
He made no mention of it, but the corpse and samples were to remain in orbit, the Chief-Fabricator's warning all too clear. A testing facility would be built elsewhere.
A quick look through the tiny slide window at the gargantuan corpse was enough to mostly convince him they were real. There was a genuine savagery in the alien's face, a hostile animal-like impression that it wouldn't hesitate to rip him in two if it was still alive.
Combined with the initial examinations made by the biologists he had brought, the certainty of Malcador's claims were likely true. Aliens were real, they were hostile, and they would be coming to the Inner Sphere. Sometime.
And made all the more complicated by the cores. Cores, plural. the cache was of value, but if what he promised was true...[An end to lostech.] The offer was most definitely made from a place of desperation. It was all too clear from Malcador's actions, even if he had all the physical tells of a rock.
The frantic need to get the information to him, even at the cost of diplomatic processes and real damages he had inflicted on Atreus and the Free Worlds League economy, of which he would relishly bill the Mechanicus. Why else would he immediately broadcast on an open channel to force his hand? Why else would he give him the offer of a lifetime just to move things along? Why else would he dump exabytes of data on him without any trade or cost? Yes, that desperation would be a good handle to work the Chief-Fabricator. And if he was planned this correctly, his no-doubt all to real supplies issue as well.
Starting with his technology. Non-k/f drive technology, energy shielding, power armor, (politically unusable, but still) advanced cybernetics, foreign materials and who knows what else?
[-----------------]
February 3, 3020
Atreus
Atreus Orbit
Midnight
The Thunderhawk rumbled through the void with all the grace the flying brick could muster.
At this stage there was very small chance for overt hostile acts from the League. The deal was signed, I had hopefully conveyed the scale of the threat, and more importantly, the Indomitable was still in orbit.
I would rest for a while. It would be sorely needed. Tomorrow I contact Comstar, the other House Lords and most of the Periphery powers. Messages to the HPG station would be sent as soon as I returned to schedule the meeting and contact the their diplomats on Atreus.
I would invite Precentor Atreus and perhaps representatives from the other houses aboard to brief them. If I could receive Comstar's official support of my claims, preparing for the invasion would be much simpler.
The more depressingly hard task would be asking Precentor Atreus in no uncertain terms what worlds Comstar wants hidden on the Agros map. There was a wealth of lostech scattered across the Periphery and Inner Sphere even after the Amaris Coop and SLDF exodus.
All on top of somehow convincing him/her I had no idea about Holy Shroud.
[Chapter 3 End]
Ending Notes
- According to some brief research I did long after I made this chapter, amethyst hunks aren't very rare at all. You can find them today. The largest one in history is over 2.5 tons. This rare perfect specimen was intended to politically showcase the Adeptus Mechanicus's wealth. The cut is perfect, and matches all the general hallmarks of a valuable piece of jewelry, but that only raises the value so much. I must change it to another valuable purple gemstone later,
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
Dhanka my dude.
Chapter 9 is at 1.3k words and won't be out for some time. The framework is done, but the technical parts of writing each scene is taking more time than I have available
Hyperionthetitan
Stuck in a tree
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2018
- Messages
- 5,966
- Likes received
- 36,649
Humie 'ittin in their p"unie tin can
Chapter 4: Briefing Room-Indomitable Spirit
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 3, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Late Morning
The various ambassadors declined my invitation, stating their desires to wait for official orders from their leaders. The only one to accept was Comstar, who I diplomatically bludgeoned into accepting my offer of providing transport under the guise of "uncertain dropship landing compatibility", which was technically true. Success! Ensuring they wouldn't be bringing nukes aboard my ship greatly relieved my stress by 6%.
It was unfortunate the rest wouldn't be attending, but that might be for the best. Couldn't have them all.
Janos' word was enough for the Free Worlds League, and should help me force my way into immediate contact to the House Lords and leaders of human space. Human Space. I would need a better name for the space that made up mankind's territories. The divide between the Houses, Periphery, and Clans would have to be eased as soon as possible. 'The Realms of Man?' That one kinda of worked with the Captain-General, but he was understandably more focused on the rest of my speech at the time, leaving my data suspect.
Clearing a lander to arrive on Comstar's exclusive landing pad was a simple task with the Free Worlds League, Janos green-lighting my landing and takeoff requests as he no doubt prepared to bring a mountain of things he wanted from me for the Cores.
Until then, I ran myself ragged maintaining the hundreds of core tasks needed to keep the Indomitable running, declining from using the Command Node beyond simple appraisals of crew status.
Of the approximately 660,000 remaining crew, 205,732 were magos of varying ranks, from common initiates to irreplaceable archmagos. There were 254,791 skitarri and combat personnel. The remaining 199,477 were…"menials" and various other unfortunate bystanders present on the Indomitable. All of the servitors were run ragged or dismantled for parts to maintain the techpriests breakneck pace and bring the non-augmented into the fold. In total, the Indomitable had 35% of its needed crew capacity working 90% of the work needed for maintenance alone, with a heavy workload on the archmagos pulling quintuple shifts on average.
I needed supplies and recruits. Once again, logistics seem to cripple my efforts. The matter was logged for the 10th time this week. I suppressed my growing contradictory excitement and dread. By the end of this week I would announce my acceptance of volunteers from Comstar, the Great Houses and Periphery. Was it arrogance to happily accept the games and double crossing of Battletech over not slowly withering away?
The remaining two hours passed quickly and Comstar's officials, accompanying adepts and the Precentor's representative left Atreus' orbit.
[-----------------]
February 3, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Hanger 1: "Fast Loading"
Early Afternoon
I watched from 20 meters away as the Lander's, well, landing gear slowly came to a stop on the hanger floor. The towering hanger gates behind it closed with an echoing clunk, disabling the outer atmospheric protections as the engines idled down. The rear loading bay slowly opened, revealing Comstar's delegation.
The various diplomats and biologists Comstar gathered tried their best to make some sort of orderly formation out of the Lander as it came to a steady stop in the landing bay, but I could see the signs of excitement as the Indomitable's colossal hanger came into view. A few burly workers they had brought with them lugged their (secretly scanned) equipment and supplies. They were an eclectic group, all carrying themselves in a myriad of different ways and styles. A sign of their assigned post in the FWL?
Hmmmmm.
Half of the adepts stared out at the gathered vehicles and foreign equipment scattered across the bay with almost naked wonder and interest. A moderately tall, bald man with large spectacles balanced on his nose in classic Comstar white robes led them. The man seemed to carry himself in a dignified and respectful, but overly curious manner. His eyes greedily unpacked and cataloged everything he saw as his gaze slowly passed over the bay.
It was almost uneasy seeing the visible youth present amongst their number. A way to sell a sadder story if things were to go awry? Did they not have enough staff on site? The answer appealed to me. I suppose it made sense. It would be strange if the local Comstar branch kept a number of highly knowledgeable biologists. Technicians were a dime a dozen, but they were here to confirm aliens, so biologists.
I stepped forward with my guards, a pair of well but lightly armed skitarii and hovering behind me, a squad of cloaked Sicarian Infiltrators. Their focus almost snapped to me from the various large atmospheric craft, heavy vehicles and few knight platforms lining the bay as I finally got close.
For the most part, the delegation surprisingly suppressed its reaction to my cybernetics. Very little in the way of outright hatred, more discomfort and confusion, and in two cases, pity. I defaulted to far more augmentations when staying in my labs and workshops. There would be little need or ability to conceal what the Mechanicus truly looked like.
On board the Indomitable, I sported a much more inhuman silhouette. My back and torso sported visible reinforcing braces and if one were to look underneath my power back, a spine more akin to a support beam. A trio of long arm-sized mechadendrites sprouted from my back and torso. My limbs were enlarged and almost like a bodybuilder's. The powerpack was far larger, closer to a mini fridge than the backpack I sported on the Olimar. My left forearm looked almost swollen from all the different tools I had stuffed into it, trying to make a swiss army hand.
I had always liked way Mr. Silver's arm from Treasure Planet seemed to have a tool for any situation. I couldn't resist.
I doubted Comstar would disclose sordid details like this to the Houses, and more importantly the Free Worlds League before the ball truly got rolling. They should be too busy trying use it for their own ends or to gain some kind of insight into me. The thought gave me a brief spark of laughter, suppressed but saved for later. The only one who knew the true answers was myself, and I had long since sealed my lips.
I spoke first to stop any awkward cases of mistaken identity as I grew closer. "Greetings Comstar Delegation, welcome aboard the Indomitable Spirit."
Their leader didn't hesitate for an instant before shaking my multi tooled hand. "And greetings to you as well Chief-Fabricator Malcador." He politely replied, maintaining eye contact with me. "I am Comstar's chosen representative, Stephen Miles. I must say, I did not recognize you."
"An understandable issue." I replied, giving his delegation a very clear glance before looking back to Representative Miles. "We have a great deal of ground to cover to the holding cells." I clapped my hands twice. A number of open hover sleds floated out from in between a pair of spacecraft, driven by low ranked techpriests, who sat in their red hoods and cloaks.
The various materials and Comstar's delegation swiftly boarded the sleds before we departed. I called for tight grips as we accelerated to a brisk 40 kph. I had expended some rare materials to silence most of the noise hover technology on this scale made, leaving us with on the rush of wind and ambient operation of the sleds as our background noise.
Representative Miles, myself and my guards rode in a larger hover sled at the back of the train. As we entered one of the main corridors that ran the entire length of the ship I allowed the auto-pilot to activate and began conversing with Representative Miles.
"Multiple parties I have contacted have vouched for the neutrality and integrity of Comstar, including, but not limited to: The Houses, many Periphery states, and many mercenary companies." I said, mechanical inner eye slowing rotating to refocus on the man. He gave my words a moment of thought before his brow furrowed. "Mercenary companies?"
"Yes, a number of mercenary and even commercial companies have initiated contact with the Adeptus Mechanicus to propose joint business ventures. At this time, out of respect to the Free Worlds League and other nations, I will not be entering official talks with them until at least a formal summit on Terra can be completed." I half-lied. There were tens of thousands of transmissions directed to me asking about cooperative programs. I simply had no intention of hiring any mercenaries or entering any business ventures. They were all given a simple reply that we were currently busy preparing for talks with the Great Houses, Periphery and Comstar and would be contacted at a later time.
There were more critical tasks I had to see to. Educating people how to operate and maintain the Indomitable to both restore it to full operating capacity and ensure it would continue operations in the event my death. Integrating and researching the technology of Warhammer and Battletech. Even as a dysfunctional diplomat ensuring the 3rd Succession War ended in time for the Orks, lostech hunter or just transporting armies.
I had no intention of micromanaging soldiers I had no business directing or sitting in board rooms for hours on end listening to the latest single percent increase in profits. The thought of managing so many contracts and duties almost made me shudder. The most they would get from me were rejuvanant offers in exchange for services and favors.
"A formal summit? An ambitious plan Chief Fabricator, Comstar would happily host and with your permission, serve as neutral arbitrators to these proceedings. Our order is trusted and respected amongst the Houses and Periphery. In the interest of better defining this event, do you have any plans on what you wish to exactly discuss and who would be invited? The requests rolled off his tongue, without a hint of shame or sycophantry.
"Anyone. Great House, Periphery, Deep Periphery and the descendants of the SLDF." My hand transformed to a hologram emitter and began projecting. Our view of the simplified 5 colored circle that was the Inner Sphere darted up and stopped at 1004 light years .
"They are located here, primarily across two different systems. My people stopped following their movements in 3000, as we prepared to follow what were then unknown radio signals coming from the aliens." I continued, priceless information flowing from my non-existent lips.
I reached into my robes and withdrew two data sticks, formatted to work with Free Worlds League and hopefully Comstar's computers. "Two copies of the navigation data, down to predicted planetary rotations and stellar bodies." To no surprise, this didn't shake the man. He only smiled and thanked me as he carefully deposited his newfound treasures. There will be more to come. I would overload the man with information before he could pry anything out of me.
"They will require careful handling." My words earned me a face of genuine displeasure from the Representative. "How so? Do you know what happened to them?" He asked, eagerly taking the role of listener as I told him of the SLDF's fall.
"They initiated a civil war shortly after their arrival on the Pentagon worlds, mostly along national lines when Kerensky failed to integrate the vast majority SLDF's army back into the civilian sector. With nothing to live for after being honorably discharged, they went back to the only structures they knew. Mothballed supply caches were seized by groups very familiar with their use. The heartbreak and most likely stress of having to crush multiple rebellions composed of his own former comrades killed him very quickly into the fighting." I lamented.
There were gasps from in front of us. We both turned. The rest of Comstar's delegates were staring at us, open agape in shock and horror. My scanner could carefully pick out one or two who seemed to be "overdoing" their reactions.
Ah.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Biolabs
Just Past Midnight
Our remaining journey to the labs was much quieter. Representative Mile's efforts to calm his staff were mostly successful. I explained what little else I knew in whispers, of his secret son taking power and ending the war, before reforming their society and their new title, the Clans. Of some kind of literal clan structure in some way designed to allow them to bleed off stress and conflict without resorting to large scale warfare. He seemed rather accepting when I mentioned they had less than positive views of the Inner Sphere. I avoided talk of batchalls, eugenics programs, and strange terminology. I wanted the Inner Sphere to greet them openly, but with a fair amount of caution at what they may do to avoid any missteps. The Clans would get their own briefing from me and no doubt the Wolve's Dragoons when they inevitably re-establish contact. I needed their warships and technological advancements.
Besides, I had no usable hard proof the SLDF had devolved into a bunch of eugenics raving lunatics. A mention of civil war was one thing, the ridiculousness and waste of Clan society was another. I doubt the Primus would accept the handful of Tex talks Battletech videos I had managed to bring with me as a primary source.
The last thing I needed was the "barbarian Sphereoids" provoking the Clans and causing them run headfirst into the orks. What was their term for it? Dezgra or something?
Comstar's "representative" merely listened and nodded when I admitted my own data was very much incomplete. Our interest in the SLDF beyond cursory observation fading when pursuing alien life and what little we did have being lost in First Contact.
He had yet to ask for my people's story. I don't know how much longer I had until someone does. Whatever, it just needed to last till Helm and New Dallas. As soon as I had the cores in hand they would be too busy rebuilding their civilizations to truly care. By then it would be irrelevant.
We watched from behind thick metal walls with very small windows as ork corpses and samples were carefully examined by Comstar's biologists, clad in hazmat suits. They were far quieter and more composed now as they confronted what Janos did yesterday.
They wouldn't be allowed to bring any with them until they had a way to store them off Atreus. Representative Miles agreed after I assured him I would keep samples exclusively for Comstar's research.
Another group was present for a stasis locked ork, just moments out of its spore pod. A sample saved for just this kind of test. The stasis technology was verified with their own hands when one volunteer was locked in time for ten minutes and perceived nothing. Repeated tests only cemented its authenticity. Meticulous records and borderline perfect observation data were handed for review to ensure nothing could be called into question.
I watched their faces as the newly "born" ork roared and attacked them from behind the wall. Disbelief. Fear. The diplomats efforts failed in very way to appease, befriend or even in one case threaten it. Five remote drones disguised and acting as stand in humans were broken or had bites taken out of them. Representative Miles sported an ugly frown as another ork was dragged away by ceiling mounted mechanical arms. The strength outputs on the arms told us nothing good. It would take five men to just move the beast. I would struggle to manhandle without significant enhancements to my current frame.
The delegation had finally been convinced and if Comstar was half as intelligent as I thought it was in the realm of data verification and analysis, the First Circuit and Primus as well.
The political goals blocking my efforts were being undone, one by one.
There was only two things left to give.
As the defeated and dejected delegation loaded themselves onto the Lander back to Atreus, I stopped Miles before he could board. He still stood tall, unwilling to show any fear for his subordinates (or perhaps himself?).
We walked a fair distance away. I handed him a large data slate and a cogitator, styled like a rolling suitcase for easy transport. Accompanying charging cables and freshly fabricated compatibility wires were in already being handed to the delegates on the ship. "The suitcase computer contains the blueprints for a number of efficient, but blackboxed weapons systems and technology that I believe that each can be built within a month if sufficient effort and care is given. All of these will likely be released to the Free World's League tomorrow and the other powers later, but you will have it now, at no cost." He merely nodded at my gift, guarding it with a care and deadly focus I did not see in him when we began our meeting.
I had spent many nights considering what I would give them. What was most useful and what would be most efficient with the time they had. Lasguns, lascannons, bolter systems, moderate quality ceramite, universal incinerator engines (the kind found on every Leman Russ), promethium, simple grav plating, basic physical enhancing cybernetics, a number of key medicines and treatments, adamantium, and finally rejuvanant.
Alongside a large number of vehicle and aircraft designs and production schematics for reference.
Precious resources and time had been spent calculating the simplest and most efficient manufactorums my gathered techpriests could devise or recall amongst the millions scattered across the Imperium. And when that was not sufficient, I turned to the darktech votann derived cogitator, but I just called it the votann system. It was an unwieldy thing of wonder and danger. No doubt if the real Mechanics had it they would have sacrificed billions of their finest to operate the machine. Over a thousand tech priests died shielding me form the direct consequences of interfacing with it for me to drag out schematics for a moderate quality rejuvenate factory.
The ability to restore any number of critical experts and aged out agents would be vital to immediately bulking up Comstar's reserves.
I handed him the data slate. "My people understand that Kerensky did not leave Comstar defenseless when he departed the Inner Sphere. These resources are most likely not stored on worlds present on any common map. I possess a map of every planet in the Inner Sphere, Periphery and approximately up to 1000 light years from current periphery borders. This map includes all lostech caches made by the SLDF and Amaris pre and post Coup and Exodus. Tell me what worlds and caches to delete from the map before I distribute it. You have as long as you need."
"You really don't care for it at all do you Malcador? As long as we're prepared." Miles somberly noted, keeping a firm grip on the slate and cogitator. I believe the likely ROM agent and I had established some kind of retort, as he finally started to accept my false persona.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Low levels of Acceptance/Fear. Acknowledgement. Respect. 44% Accuracy.{+}
They departed with all haste, the Lander rapidly accelerating as it beelined for Comstar's HPG headquarters. And that was that.
Tomorrow, Janos and the technology transfer.
[-----------------]
Date Varied
Real-Space
Time Varied
At long last the information completed its journey, first reaching Terra, and soon enough, Sian and Tharkad. The South-West Periphery erupted in a storm of panic and fear. Within 18 hours, Avalon and Luthien would receive the news themselves at express speed, all secrecy lost.
On Terra:
The Primus was first alerted as long hidden alarms screamed across Hilton Island, the seat of Comstar's power entering a complete lockdown even as the information rapidly spread amongst the rank and file. Not even ROM's encompassing grasp could delay the horrifying news. Soon news of a towering warship and its terrible cry spread amongst Hilton Island and Terra.
Precentor Atreus was not a man known for lies and exaggeration, and this was a call of unfathomable danger.
For the first time in decades, Terra entered a state of heightened alert. Ancient protocols and vaults of materials were reviewed and prepared for use. In mere days the last warships of the Inner Sphere would rouse from their centuries long slumber.
The call for the First Circuit to convene would be sent out 10 minutes after the conclusion of ROM's briefing.
Primus Julian Tiepolo would publicly issue a call for calm to Terra, Inner Sphere and Periphery before disappearing into the Hilton Hotel.
On Sian:
The Chancellor learned of the news as the Director of the Maskirovaka interrupted the closing hours of Court, discarding all decorum as she quickly explained her reasons to the irate Maximillian Liao. The throne room was emptied as Chandra Ling began her report. An hour would pass before the Chancellor would emerge. Witnesses would swear his Divine Celestial Wisdom paused for but a moment upon exiting, before seeing to the crisis.
The Warrior houses rallied, swearing before all of the Confederation no hostile alien force would touch down on Sian. One enthusiastic warrior would draw a black line across a map of far south of the Capellan Federation and cry "This far and no further!", the call spreading amongst their number.
Chancellor Maximilian Liao later applauded their courage before mildly chiding them to hold their righteous fervor for the battles to no doubt come. In a private message to the highest echelons of the Capellan government, the Chancellor would order work done into drastically expanding the stockpile of strategic weapons.
On Tharkad:
The Archon would only maintain a stony stare as LIC Chancellor Simon Johnson relayed the news. Later that afternoon, Archon Steiner called for unity and calm before the Estates General and Tharkad, swearing that she would lead them through this crisis.
Her successful address and efforts would curtail impending economic woes, the aftereffects spreading through the Commonwealth economy.
Archon Katrina Steiner would be seen entering talks with Jamie Wolf and Natasha Kerensky of the Wolves' Dragoons, who had suddenly all but demanded an audience, claiming to have information that would greatly help the Lyran Commonwealth in this crisis.
[Chapter 4 End]
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Late Morning
The various ambassadors declined my invitation, stating their desires to wait for official orders from their leaders. The only one to accept was Comstar, who I diplomatically bludgeoned into accepting my offer of providing transport under the guise of "uncertain dropship landing compatibility", which was technically true. Success! Ensuring they wouldn't be bringing nukes aboard my ship greatly relieved my stress by 6%.
It was unfortunate the rest wouldn't be attending, but that might be for the best. Couldn't have them all.
Janos' word was enough for the Free Worlds League, and should help me force my way into immediate contact to the House Lords and leaders of human space. Human Space. I would need a better name for the space that made up mankind's territories. The divide between the Houses, Periphery, and Clans would have to be eased as soon as possible. 'The Realms of Man?' That one kinda of worked with the Captain-General, but he was understandably more focused on the rest of my speech at the time, leaving my data suspect.
Clearing a lander to arrive on Comstar's exclusive landing pad was a simple task with the Free Worlds League, Janos green-lighting my landing and takeoff requests as he no doubt prepared to bring a mountain of things he wanted from me for the Cores.
Until then, I ran myself ragged maintaining the hundreds of core tasks needed to keep the Indomitable running, declining from using the Command Node beyond simple appraisals of crew status.
Of the approximately 660,000 remaining crew, 205,732 were magos of varying ranks, from common initiates to irreplaceable archmagos. There were 254,791 skitarri and combat personnel. The remaining 199,477 were…"menials" and various other unfortunate bystanders present on the Indomitable. All of the servitors were run ragged or dismantled for parts to maintain the techpriests breakneck pace and bring the non-augmented into the fold. In total, the Indomitable had 35% of its needed crew capacity working 90% of the work needed for maintenance alone, with a heavy workload on the archmagos pulling quintuple shifts on average.
I needed supplies and recruits. Once again, logistics seem to cripple my efforts. The matter was logged for the 10th time this week. I suppressed my growing contradictory excitement and dread. By the end of this week I would announce my acceptance of volunteers from Comstar, the Great Houses and Periphery. Was it arrogance to happily accept the games and double crossing of Battletech over not slowly withering away?
The remaining two hours passed quickly and Comstar's officials, accompanying adepts and the Precentor's representative left Atreus' orbit.
[-----------------]
February 3, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Hanger 1: "Fast Loading"
Early Afternoon
I watched from 20 meters away as the Lander's, well, landing gear slowly came to a stop on the hanger floor. The towering hanger gates behind it closed with an echoing clunk, disabling the outer atmospheric protections as the engines idled down. The rear loading bay slowly opened, revealing Comstar's delegation.
The various diplomats and biologists Comstar gathered tried their best to make some sort of orderly formation out of the Lander as it came to a steady stop in the landing bay, but I could see the signs of excitement as the Indomitable's colossal hanger came into view. A few burly workers they had brought with them lugged their (secretly scanned) equipment and supplies. They were an eclectic group, all carrying themselves in a myriad of different ways and styles. A sign of their assigned post in the FWL?
Hmmmmm.
Half of the adepts stared out at the gathered vehicles and foreign equipment scattered across the bay with almost naked wonder and interest. A moderately tall, bald man with large spectacles balanced on his nose in classic Comstar white robes led them. The man seemed to carry himself in a dignified and respectful, but overly curious manner. His eyes greedily unpacked and cataloged everything he saw as his gaze slowly passed over the bay.
It was almost uneasy seeing the visible youth present amongst their number. A way to sell a sadder story if things were to go awry? Did they not have enough staff on site? The answer appealed to me. I suppose it made sense. It would be strange if the local Comstar branch kept a number of highly knowledgeable biologists. Technicians were a dime a dozen, but they were here to confirm aliens, so biologists.
I stepped forward with my guards, a pair of well but lightly armed skitarii and hovering behind me, a squad of cloaked Sicarian Infiltrators. Their focus almost snapped to me from the various large atmospheric craft, heavy vehicles and few knight platforms lining the bay as I finally got close.
For the most part, the delegation surprisingly suppressed its reaction to my cybernetics. Very little in the way of outright hatred, more discomfort and confusion, and in two cases, pity. I defaulted to far more augmentations when staying in my labs and workshops. There would be little need or ability to conceal what the Mechanicus truly looked like.
On board the Indomitable, I sported a much more inhuman silhouette. My back and torso sported visible reinforcing braces and if one were to look underneath my power back, a spine more akin to a support beam. A trio of long arm-sized mechadendrites sprouted from my back and torso. My limbs were enlarged and almost like a bodybuilder's. The powerpack was far larger, closer to a mini fridge than the backpack I sported on the Olimar. My left forearm looked almost swollen from all the different tools I had stuffed into it, trying to make a swiss army hand.
I had always liked way Mr. Silver's arm from Treasure Planet seemed to have a tool for any situation. I couldn't resist.
I doubted Comstar would disclose sordid details like this to the Houses, and more importantly the Free Worlds League before the ball truly got rolling. They should be too busy trying use it for their own ends or to gain some kind of insight into me. The thought gave me a brief spark of laughter, suppressed but saved for later. The only one who knew the true answers was myself, and I had long since sealed my lips.
I spoke first to stop any awkward cases of mistaken identity as I grew closer. "Greetings Comstar Delegation, welcome aboard the Indomitable Spirit."
Their leader didn't hesitate for an instant before shaking my multi tooled hand. "And greetings to you as well Chief-Fabricator Malcador." He politely replied, maintaining eye contact with me. "I am Comstar's chosen representative, Stephen Miles. I must say, I did not recognize you."
"An understandable issue." I replied, giving his delegation a very clear glance before looking back to Representative Miles. "We have a great deal of ground to cover to the holding cells." I clapped my hands twice. A number of open hover sleds floated out from in between a pair of spacecraft, driven by low ranked techpriests, who sat in their red hoods and cloaks.
The various materials and Comstar's delegation swiftly boarded the sleds before we departed. I called for tight grips as we accelerated to a brisk 40 kph. I had expended some rare materials to silence most of the noise hover technology on this scale made, leaving us with on the rush of wind and ambient operation of the sleds as our background noise.
Representative Miles, myself and my guards rode in a larger hover sled at the back of the train. As we entered one of the main corridors that ran the entire length of the ship I allowed the auto-pilot to activate and began conversing with Representative Miles.
"Multiple parties I have contacted have vouched for the neutrality and integrity of Comstar, including, but not limited to: The Houses, many Periphery states, and many mercenary companies." I said, mechanical inner eye slowing rotating to refocus on the man. He gave my words a moment of thought before his brow furrowed. "Mercenary companies?"
"Yes, a number of mercenary and even commercial companies have initiated contact with the Adeptus Mechanicus to propose joint business ventures. At this time, out of respect to the Free Worlds League and other nations, I will not be entering official talks with them until at least a formal summit on Terra can be completed." I half-lied. There were tens of thousands of transmissions directed to me asking about cooperative programs. I simply had no intention of hiring any mercenaries or entering any business ventures. They were all given a simple reply that we were currently busy preparing for talks with the Great Houses, Periphery and Comstar and would be contacted at a later time.
There were more critical tasks I had to see to. Educating people how to operate and maintain the Indomitable to both restore it to full operating capacity and ensure it would continue operations in the event my death. Integrating and researching the technology of Warhammer and Battletech. Even as a dysfunctional diplomat ensuring the 3rd Succession War ended in time for the Orks, lostech hunter or just transporting armies.
I had no intention of micromanaging soldiers I had no business directing or sitting in board rooms for hours on end listening to the latest single percent increase in profits. The thought of managing so many contracts and duties almost made me shudder. The most they would get from me were rejuvanant offers in exchange for services and favors.
"A formal summit? An ambitious plan Chief Fabricator, Comstar would happily host and with your permission, serve as neutral arbitrators to these proceedings. Our order is trusted and respected amongst the Houses and Periphery. In the interest of better defining this event, do you have any plans on what you wish to exactly discuss and who would be invited? The requests rolled off his tongue, without a hint of shame or sycophantry.
"Anyone. Great House, Periphery, Deep Periphery and the descendants of the SLDF." My hand transformed to a hologram emitter and began projecting. Our view of the simplified 5 colored circle that was the Inner Sphere darted up and stopped at 1004 light years .
"They are located here, primarily across two different systems. My people stopped following their movements in 3000, as we prepared to follow what were then unknown radio signals coming from the aliens." I continued, priceless information flowing from my non-existent lips.
I reached into my robes and withdrew two data sticks, formatted to work with Free Worlds League and hopefully Comstar's computers. "Two copies of the navigation data, down to predicted planetary rotations and stellar bodies." To no surprise, this didn't shake the man. He only smiled and thanked me as he carefully deposited his newfound treasures. There will be more to come. I would overload the man with information before he could pry anything out of me.
"They will require careful handling." My words earned me a face of genuine displeasure from the Representative. "How so? Do you know what happened to them?" He asked, eagerly taking the role of listener as I told him of the SLDF's fall.
"They initiated a civil war shortly after their arrival on the Pentagon worlds, mostly along national lines when Kerensky failed to integrate the vast majority SLDF's army back into the civilian sector. With nothing to live for after being honorably discharged, they went back to the only structures they knew. Mothballed supply caches were seized by groups very familiar with their use. The heartbreak and most likely stress of having to crush multiple rebellions composed of his own former comrades killed him very quickly into the fighting." I lamented.
There were gasps from in front of us. We both turned. The rest of Comstar's delegates were staring at us, open agape in shock and horror. My scanner could carefully pick out one or two who seemed to be "overdoing" their reactions.
Ah.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Biolabs
Just Past Midnight
Our remaining journey to the labs was much quieter. Representative Mile's efforts to calm his staff were mostly successful. I explained what little else I knew in whispers, of his secret son taking power and ending the war, before reforming their society and their new title, the Clans. Of some kind of literal clan structure in some way designed to allow them to bleed off stress and conflict without resorting to large scale warfare. He seemed rather accepting when I mentioned they had less than positive views of the Inner Sphere. I avoided talk of batchalls, eugenics programs, and strange terminology. I wanted the Inner Sphere to greet them openly, but with a fair amount of caution at what they may do to avoid any missteps. The Clans would get their own briefing from me and no doubt the Wolve's Dragoons when they inevitably re-establish contact. I needed their warships and technological advancements.
Besides, I had no usable hard proof the SLDF had devolved into a bunch of eugenics raving lunatics. A mention of civil war was one thing, the ridiculousness and waste of Clan society was another. I doubt the Primus would accept the handful of Tex talks Battletech videos I had managed to bring with me as a primary source.
The last thing I needed was the "barbarian Sphereoids" provoking the Clans and causing them run headfirst into the orks. What was their term for it? Dezgra or something?
Comstar's "representative" merely listened and nodded when I admitted my own data was very much incomplete. Our interest in the SLDF beyond cursory observation fading when pursuing alien life and what little we did have being lost in First Contact.
He had yet to ask for my people's story. I don't know how much longer I had until someone does. Whatever, it just needed to last till Helm and New Dallas. As soon as I had the cores in hand they would be too busy rebuilding their civilizations to truly care. By then it would be irrelevant.
We watched from behind thick metal walls with very small windows as ork corpses and samples were carefully examined by Comstar's biologists, clad in hazmat suits. They were far quieter and more composed now as they confronted what Janos did yesterday.
They wouldn't be allowed to bring any with them until they had a way to store them off Atreus. Representative Miles agreed after I assured him I would keep samples exclusively for Comstar's research.
Another group was present for a stasis locked ork, just moments out of its spore pod. A sample saved for just this kind of test. The stasis technology was verified with their own hands when one volunteer was locked in time for ten minutes and perceived nothing. Repeated tests only cemented its authenticity. Meticulous records and borderline perfect observation data were handed for review to ensure nothing could be called into question.
I watched their faces as the newly "born" ork roared and attacked them from behind the wall. Disbelief. Fear. The diplomats efforts failed in very way to appease, befriend or even in one case threaten it. Five remote drones disguised and acting as stand in humans were broken or had bites taken out of them. Representative Miles sported an ugly frown as another ork was dragged away by ceiling mounted mechanical arms. The strength outputs on the arms told us nothing good. It would take five men to just move the beast. I would struggle to manhandle without significant enhancements to my current frame.
The delegation had finally been convinced and if Comstar was half as intelligent as I thought it was in the realm of data verification and analysis, the First Circuit and Primus as well.
The political goals blocking my efforts were being undone, one by one.
There was only two things left to give.
As the defeated and dejected delegation loaded themselves onto the Lander back to Atreus, I stopped Miles before he could board. He still stood tall, unwilling to show any fear for his subordinates (or perhaps himself?).
We walked a fair distance away. I handed him a large data slate and a cogitator, styled like a rolling suitcase for easy transport. Accompanying charging cables and freshly fabricated compatibility wires were in already being handed to the delegates on the ship. "The suitcase computer contains the blueprints for a number of efficient, but blackboxed weapons systems and technology that I believe that each can be built within a month if sufficient effort and care is given. All of these will likely be released to the Free World's League tomorrow and the other powers later, but you will have it now, at no cost." He merely nodded at my gift, guarding it with a care and deadly focus I did not see in him when we began our meeting.
I had spent many nights considering what I would give them. What was most useful and what would be most efficient with the time they had. Lasguns, lascannons, bolter systems, moderate quality ceramite, universal incinerator engines (the kind found on every Leman Russ), promethium, simple grav plating, basic physical enhancing cybernetics, a number of key medicines and treatments, adamantium, and finally rejuvanant.
Alongside a large number of vehicle and aircraft designs and production schematics for reference.
Precious resources and time had been spent calculating the simplest and most efficient manufactorums my gathered techpriests could devise or recall amongst the millions scattered across the Imperium. And when that was not sufficient, I turned to the darktech votann derived cogitator, but I just called it the votann system. It was an unwieldy thing of wonder and danger. No doubt if the real Mechanics had it they would have sacrificed billions of their finest to operate the machine. Over a thousand tech priests died shielding me form the direct consequences of interfacing with it for me to drag out schematics for a moderate quality rejuvenate factory.
The ability to restore any number of critical experts and aged out agents would be vital to immediately bulking up Comstar's reserves.
I handed him the data slate. "My people understand that Kerensky did not leave Comstar defenseless when he departed the Inner Sphere. These resources are most likely not stored on worlds present on any common map. I possess a map of every planet in the Inner Sphere, Periphery and approximately up to 1000 light years from current periphery borders. This map includes all lostech caches made by the SLDF and Amaris pre and post Coup and Exodus. Tell me what worlds and caches to delete from the map before I distribute it. You have as long as you need."
"You really don't care for it at all do you Malcador? As long as we're prepared." Miles somberly noted, keeping a firm grip on the slate and cogitator. I believe the likely ROM agent and I had established some kind of retort, as he finally started to accept my false persona.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Low levels of Acceptance/Fear. Acknowledgement. Respect. 44% Accuracy.{+}
They departed with all haste, the Lander rapidly accelerating as it beelined for Comstar's HPG headquarters. And that was that.
Tomorrow, Janos and the technology transfer.
[-----------------]
Date Varied
Real-Space
Time Varied
At long last the information completed its journey, first reaching Terra, and soon enough, Sian and Tharkad. The South-West Periphery erupted in a storm of panic and fear. Within 18 hours, Avalon and Luthien would receive the news themselves at express speed, all secrecy lost.
On Terra:
The Primus was first alerted as long hidden alarms screamed across Hilton Island, the seat of Comstar's power entering a complete lockdown even as the information rapidly spread amongst the rank and file. Not even ROM's encompassing grasp could delay the horrifying news. Soon news of a towering warship and its terrible cry spread amongst Hilton Island and Terra.
Precentor Atreus was not a man known for lies and exaggeration, and this was a call of unfathomable danger.
For the first time in decades, Terra entered a state of heightened alert. Ancient protocols and vaults of materials were reviewed and prepared for use. In mere days the last warships of the Inner Sphere would rouse from their centuries long slumber.
The call for the First Circuit to convene would be sent out 10 minutes after the conclusion of ROM's briefing.
Primus Julian Tiepolo would publicly issue a call for calm to Terra, Inner Sphere and Periphery before disappearing into the Hilton Hotel.
On Sian:
The Chancellor learned of the news as the Director of the Maskirovaka interrupted the closing hours of Court, discarding all decorum as she quickly explained her reasons to the irate Maximillian Liao. The throne room was emptied as Chandra Ling began her report. An hour would pass before the Chancellor would emerge. Witnesses would swear his Divine Celestial Wisdom paused for but a moment upon exiting, before seeing to the crisis.
The Warrior houses rallied, swearing before all of the Confederation no hostile alien force would touch down on Sian. One enthusiastic warrior would draw a black line across a map of far south of the Capellan Federation and cry "This far and no further!", the call spreading amongst their number.
Chancellor Maximilian Liao later applauded their courage before mildly chiding them to hold their righteous fervor for the battles to no doubt come. In a private message to the highest echelons of the Capellan government, the Chancellor would order work done into drastically expanding the stockpile of strategic weapons.
On Tharkad:
The Archon would only maintain a stony stare as LIC Chancellor Simon Johnson relayed the news. Later that afternoon, Archon Steiner called for unity and calm before the Estates General and Tharkad, swearing that she would lead them through this crisis.
Her successful address and efforts would curtail impending economic woes, the aftereffects spreading through the Commonwealth economy.
Archon Katrina Steiner would be seen entering talks with Jamie Wolf and Natasha Kerensky of the Wolves' Dragoons, who had suddenly all but demanded an audience, claiming to have information that would greatly help the Lyran Commonwealth in this crisis.
[Chapter 4 End]
Last edited:
Interlude 1: Luthien, Avalon and Comstar First Circuit
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
[-----------------]
Date Varied
Real Space
Time Varied
As evening drew on Atreus, the Mechanicus and Free Worlds League prepared for the technology demonstration to come next morning. To the galactic East, the data packet finally completed its journey across the Inner Sphere and Periphery.
On Luthien:
The Coordinator of Worlds was approached during a designated lull in afternoon Court, upholding traditions, even as the populace outside slowly learned of the news. The diplomats, representatives and spies stationed on Atreus sent all they could gather to Subhash Indrahar, Director of the Internal Security Force.
Unity Palace maintained its air of peace and duty, the guards and staff ordered to work as if nothing had changed. Couriers and supplicants seeking audience were turned away or given instructions to await orders from the Dragon. An uneasy stillness slowly spread over Luthien, waiting for the Coordinator's word.
Deep within the Black Room, Coordinator Takashi and Director Subhash spoke long into the day. They discussed the veracity of the news, of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and of their war with Steiner and Davion. The Director brought with him a number of reports, of scans, analysis and documents.
The might of the Indomitable Spirit was clear to see, the unknown method of faster than light travel, its mighty weapons, and no doubt carrying an arsenal of foreign weapons. Both concurred the newly arrived Adeptus Mechanicus would need to be courted, before Captain-General Janos could dig his claws into them any further. Whoever could secure the allegiance or even aid of the Mechanicus would control the Inner Sphere. An end to the Succession Wars was in sight.
Long-standing spies would need to be quietly contacted and activated. Orders were sent. To compose a list of their foes' failures and sins and of the Combine's virtues and strength. Another message of the safety and surety that they could find if they were to graciously bow to the Dragon was drafted, to be presented after initial talks and first contact.
Then, they talked of war. Of the possibility of an alien invasion. The Director slowly convinced his lord that they could not stand by. Not if they wished to quickly enter the Adeptus Mechanicus' good graces. Not if Comstar were to take a stand. The Draconis Combine could not remain neutral if Terra and the HPG network were threatened.
And what if it was a ploy? An act? That the Adeptus Mechanicus, if they even existed, were gone and the aliens merely puppeting their corpse? Takashi countered. Time would tell, Indrahar replied. If no news spread from Atreus, then all would know. The Free Worlds League government and even Comstar would investigate them most thoroughly.
Besides, what people would devise such grand lies and so confidentially cry them for all to hear?
Finally, they spoke of their conquests against Davion and Steiner. A number of commanders and raiding forces had decided to continue pushing on, ignoring cries for truces and ceasefires. If they had dishonored the Dragon, they would atone. If they were victorious and returned with appropriate salvage or adequate prizes, they would be honored. Loosely held worlds would be ransomed back to their holders in return for the mustered soldiery's withdrawal.
For better or worse, none of the active warlords continued their attacks, instead requesting further orders.
To that, neither knew for sure. Yet. There was planning to do, resources to tally and news to await. HPG messages were filed and sent. The Warlords were to gather upon Luthien with all haste, to discuss and plan. With that, their time in the Black Room had ended.
Coordinator Takashi would make a public announcement that the situation would be evaluated and remind the people of Luthien of the duty and composure expected of them.
On Avalon:
The First Prince awoke to his close friend and confidant, Ardan Sortek, banging on his door. Only his position as an unofficial second champion prevented the guards from stopping him. Accompanied by none other than a messenger from the Director of MIIO (Ministry of Information, Intelligence and Operations), Nicholas Truston and what appeared to as many members of his personal staff that they could wrangle at such short notice.
The drowsiness and lethargy quickly disappeared under a large cup of coffee and news of a warship emerging over Atreus. Reconvening in the Fox's den, Hanse Davion listened as Director Nicholas Truston outlined the events of February 2nd in the Free Worlds League. The mention of aliens drew a raised brow and a faked laugh as he read the report on the so called "Indomitable Spirit". Both the Director's report and original messages from Atreus were harshly examined.
Accompanying the report was unconfirmed news of ceasefires and unsteady truces along the border with Liao, the Chancellor ordering his bulk of his forces to standby. To the Prince's chagrin, not all of either his own forces or Chancellor Liao's seemed to care for rumors of an alien invasion.
As most of New Avalon slept, Ardan Sortek was given the task of contacting Comstar to gain a deeper understanding of the situation. Precentor Avalon had verified the news, and was unceremoniously dragged into a long impromptu meeting with the Prince's closest confidant. A long two hours passed before the Precentor could politely eject Ardan from his HPG station.
The night quickly ticked by as the leadership of the Federated Suns gathered. Suggestions and proposals covered the holoboard as they planned a response. Risk assessments were made. Records were consulted for any mention of the "Adeptus Mechanicus". The potential consequences of the mightiest warship in the history of mankind entering the Inner Sphere were theorized and expanded on. Unfortunately, nuclear ordinance was the only realistic option available, and no doubt the Indomitable had a hoard of anti-fighter defenses, even if damaged.
Orders were sent to the diplomats to immediately make contact with the Adeptus Mechanicus. Hopefully the ambassadors had managed in the time since their message was sent. Unexpectedly, the First Prince strangely issued orders to begin work into humanitarian efforts to assist the newly arrived Adeptus Mechanicus and to extend an offer of help and aid, at no cost. Yvonne Davion left the matter of diplomacy and appearances to her Lord, as she complied reports and re-evaluated the AFFS' status.
NAIS was called, and the staff were given orders to begin work-shopping the material requirements such a vessel would require and the difficulties a warship bound people would face.
The night soon came to a close, and Lord Davion left the Fox's Den to prepare an address. As Hanse departed to his apartments for a fresh wardrobe, he confided in Ardan that if the claims of aliens were true, he would have to establish an alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth, and perhaps the Free Worlds League. And just maybe he could force Mad Max to sign a ceasefire if he could secure the Free Worlds League's support. Ardan quickly replied that perhaps he would like the SLDF to return with a fleet of warships, and an army of royal battlemechs, the two sharing a grim laugh.
They continued on, neither voicing the unacceptable option of Kurita.
First Prince Hanse Davion addressed the people as day came, and the rest of Avalon awoke to panicked news of a potential alien threat. He called for calm and clear heads, as he and the Ministries worked to protect the Federated Suns and its people.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus HPG Station
Precentor's Office
Very Early Morning
Precentor Atreus, Predrigor Aliz, suppressed a grimace as the HPG meeting entered its 11th non-continuous hour. He was pushing the HPG enough as it was. The Primus had demanded all members of the First Circuit maintain a connection with Terra for as long as possible, and to rejoin the meeting when conditions allowed. Leading to a chaotic series of talks where re-entering Precentors had to be informed on the latest discussions as they rejoined the session. He would have to depart soon as well.
Their continued use had reduced total HPG use across the Inner Sphere and Periphery by 9.5%. Atreus' HPG output and input were reduced by approximately 14.6% and 8.79%. And at such a critical time as well…the long-term effects on galactic communications would be substantial. For want of nail, as the saying went.
Unfortunately, they were far from done. The Primus had decided the cost was well worth it. And so they still had more to discuss.
For now, the Primus maintained total control of the First Circuit. With both Precentor ROM and the more peaceful and cautious factions of the order thoroughly supporting Primus Tiepolo, no one dared to truly contest the Primus' decision to continue a thorough approach to the situation. Tojo Jarlath was supposed to be mere replacement appointment after the banishment of Vesar Kristor, but it seems the man had integrated himself more into ROM than he had thought.
Time passed slowly as they discussed other useful and important matters. The fate of the SLDF and their location. How to stabilize the galactic economy from this sudden shock. A sudden departure of a Wolves' Dragoons jumpship back towards the Periphery. With their sources in the Archon's palace uncovering that it was reactive a supply cache of some kind. The developing state of unrest in the Periphery. And what to do with the database of advanced technology gifted to them by the Adeptus Mechanicus.
The "rejuvanant" anti-aging methods, anti-gravity systems, other medical and cybernetic technologies, and mass production "adamantium" armor design were the highlights of the Mechanicus' data packet. To the First Circuit's dismay, it was colossal in size, and it would take precious weeks to fully send the contents over HPG. The hastily made command circuit set to arrive within a week or so would have to retrieve it and bring it all the way back to Terra.
Precentor Atreus had transferred from the conference room specifically for HPG meetings to his personal office during an unavoidable 4-hour lapse in his connection. Instead of sitting in an empty room with only holograms of his compatriots, he sat behind his nice and comfortable imported desk. The computer screen displayed the currently attending Precentors while his notes and files sat on a noteputer.
"Omega should prioritize the integration of the data into our naval vessels as soon as possible." Precentor Dieron said. "While I agree that the medical technology, mass production energy weapons systems and weapons schematics will be vital for any potential conflict, we have seen the battlerom of the Mechanicus' fall. We must prepare to rebuild our naval forces to contest any alien invasion."
Precentor Atreus wondered if anyone had realized the lack of mining, engineering, or food production facilities included in the data core. While Malcador had informed them that they were primarily factories that could be quickly built, did he really have nothing to ease logistical concerns to feed these factories and the tens of thousands of de-aged mercenaries, soldiers, experts and agents re-entering service Sphere-wide? Not a single thing? And the open admission the systems were black-boxed. To be even more blatant than the Star League itself in denying access to their secrets. It was insulting.
"This conflict will be far from potential Precentor Dieron." Precentor ROM interrupted. "After these formal and highly public talks with Malcador, the Free Worlds League is all but committed to the conflict. And with the League involved, the Order's facilities in their space are now at risk. It is only a matter of time before a Free Worlds League-Alien conflict drags the blessed Order into it. Janos appears to have realized his position, and at this moment the Free World's League is preparing to hire over 20% of the total mercenaries connected to the MRB (Mercenary Review Board). A significant portion of them will be planned contracts that will activate when alien forces appear."
The Primus and currently present Precentors turned to him. Precentor Atreus ignored their piecing gazes as he pulled up the relevant notes and files. Out of the corner of his eye Primus Tiepolo held a calm and neutral expression as he watched on.
"That is correct. We have decoded multiple messages heading towards the industrial and economic centers of the Free World's League. We have reason to believe Janos is planning on ensuring the Mechanicus come to him for supplies by offering them at a substantial discount, including a credit line in the hundreds of millions. It will most likely end near a billion Eagles (M-bills). The Captain-General has deemed undoing portions of their post civil-war economic recovery an acceptable cost if it means keeping the Mechanicus at his side.
There is also a proposal being drafted to ask Malcador to integrate League personnel into the Indomitable for a technological research program and to lay down initial grounds for their military alliance. He will begin talks with Malcador today during the scheduled technology and weaponry demonstration on Atreus in 6 hours."
"The situation is preceding too quickly." Precentor Avalon observed. "The Mechanicus and Free Worlds League's talks must be stopped! It would be unacceptable if the Mechanicus and Indomitable Spirit were suborned by a Great House."
A Company Store Policy? He pondered it as the rest of them discussed how to take back control of the situation. The Mechanicus were a civilization, not a mercenary command. Could (what was left of) a sovereign entity be taken over solely through debts? Admittingly the Mechanicus had no source of supplies… He doubted they would be able to independently find a supplier without some interference or sabotage. The precedent would be unpleasant, regardless if it worked or not. It reeked of the dissolution of the Terran Hegemony.
Practically, how could the Free World's League even enforce such a plan? Have troops onboard Indomitable seize it? If the Mechanicus allowed that many soldiers to be stationed on the vessel, the situation would have already degraded far too much for the Order's plans. No Great House would be allowed exclusive access to the Mechanicus.
The computer chimed, ending their discussion. Precentors Tharkad and Sian reappeared in their holographic seats on the screen. He frowned. They were over half an hour late.
Primus Tiepolo leaned forward. "Precentors Tharkad and Sian, have you both read and reviewed the necessary documents to continue this discussion?" What? It took a moment, but he understood now.
It was for the best that they would have some time to study the documents before joining in the discussion.
Precentor Tharkad spoke first, cutting off Precentor Sian as he made to speak. "Primus! These lostech caches endanger the entirety of Holy Shroud. If even a tenth of them are discovered, it would undo centuries of work! Surely, we have no intention of allowing the Houses or Mechanicus to uncover them!?"
Primus Tiepolo only gave Precentor Tharkad a blank stare, the very picture of neutrality, but his eyes and air said otherwise. To his credit, Precentor Tharkad did not back down in the face of the Primus ire. "And what would you propose instead Precentor? The Mechanicus will no doubt share their technology in exchange for supplies and political capital. Even now, Malcador has made overtures to numerous embassies on Atreus. Asking for assistance and ceasefires, in exchange for the Mechanicus' wonders.
Precentor Atreus has confirmed that the planned weapons and technology demonstrations are very well on schedule. For all intents and purposes, unless we were to successfully destroy the Indomitable Spirit in its entirety before any data transfer, the Free World's League can technologically recover."
"Primus, I am not referring to the state of technological regression, but of conflict! Already numerous battles across the Sphere are escalating instead of ending. Too many parties are deciding this would be their last chance to inflict damage or take revenge! Simply too many of these commanders are nobility or high ranking enough to be censured for these acts.
I do not believe the Houses are in any acceptable state to begin uncovering these caches. Too many of them are on contested worlds. If the Order were to allow even half of them to be known, the consequences would be disastrous!" Precentor Tharkad countered, earning a brief nod of agreement from Precentor Avalon.
"Will we not consider the threat this map presents to our Order? Any world we ask to be redacted is a potential site for them to evaluate. The very secrecy protecting the Order's caches would be lost! We have no way of contesting the Indomitable should it arrive over any of our sites.
That is not even considering what the Houses would do if they are discovered. I doubt that the Mechanicus will stand for over half the map being redacted. We must stop them before they reveal this information to the houses, by whatever means necessary." Precentor Dieron angrily interjected.
"Primus, we cannot allow this map to released." He suppressed a scoff. From his own observations, Malcador assurances of time did not match his current behavior. His public announcement had ensured the Houses and Periphery would panic and be stirred to action.
Malcador would continue his talks with the the Free Worlds League and most likely the House and Periphery, regardless of whatever Comstar had to say. After these technology demonstrations, he and Janos would finalize whatever deal they had, leaving them to retrieve the caches. No doubt Janos knew as soon as the Mechanicus had what they wanted they could up and abandon the Free Worlds League. Whatever their plans were, it no doubt would culminate in their journey to the "Pentagon Worlds".
And…and then…
The realization struck him.
In the chaos as they would no doubt leave behind, initiate contact with the SLDF in-exile. All the while the Order would be forced to manage the chaos and expend its resources calming the Houses. Leaving the Mechanicus to make a triumphant return, with good ties formed with the Star League.
Precentor Sian spoke up. "What of the unknown nature of our opposition? While yes, the Mechanicus encountered them 2600 light years south of Terra, but how long did it take for them to reach Atreus? As Malcador stated in his meeting with Captain-General Janos, we have no true idea when they could discover our borders.
Will we truly strain the Comguards and Order with secretly collecting these caches and then guarding all of the Periphery and Inner Sphere? How will we justify the appearance of so much lostech? All while feuding with the Mechancius? Can we afford the risk that the Order can collect and then sufficiently man, all before any alien force arrives? All while rearming and reactivating our own forces?"
No one brought up they could simply use whatever states were under attack and the Mechanicus as shields to buy more time. [Perhaps that would be for the best.] Such lines of thought could be considered dangerously close to opposing Comstar's goals.
An uncomfortable silence followed in the wake of Precentor Sian's questions. No one apparently having an answer to that issue.
It drew, on and on as they looked at each other, waiting for someone to speak. The Primus eyes minutely glanced to his left, scanning something. No doubt documents of some kind. Blessingly, Precentor ROM ended the silence.
"We must gather more information." Precentor ROM confidently stated. "We know for certain there is a degree of authenticity to this map. It has profiles for every lostech cache reported by the Houses, Periphery and the Order since the fall of the Star League, classified and public. On Terra itself, the Rifleman 3 prototype developed by Amaris was located one hour ago. The coordinates matched the map down to the meter. In a few short hours it will be completely uncovered for confirmation."
Precentor ROM's hologram switched to a display of the map and profile on the battlemech, before flicking to some kind of orbital facility. Precentor Atreus barely had a moment to note the alarming amount of firepower and stealth systems on the design before it changed.
Ah. That had caused a stir when it was discovered on the map.
"In 1 week, the Invader jumpship Word's Integrity will finish preparations and depart to investigate the supposedly decommissioned Warship factory located far above the Sol system. If the database is correct, it is in a state of severe disrepair and was stripped of critical components two years before Kerensky's final assault on Terra, but it is one of the only warship factories left in either the Inner Sphere of Periphery aside from our own."
Finally, the hologram switched to a map of the Inner Sphere and Periphery. Thousands of dots were scattered across the map, all color coded and numbered to mark size, technological level and ease of access.
"Supposedly, Malcador has included all but 2 lostech sites on this map, according to the note attached to the very beginning of the database. We know both are in Free World's space, and that one is on a long dead world and the other is on long-standing Free World's planet. Whatever these caches are, they are so valuable Malcador is willing to release substantial amounts of technology to the League in exchange for access and the entirety of this map to the Order, Inner Sphere and Periphery. We can hypothesize that they are unlikely to be mass production mech factories, experimental research labs, nuclear weapons or shipyards based on the 87 total sites disclosed thus far."
His own computer blared a short siren. The rest of the Circuit paused at the noise. He recognized that alarm. Curses! "Primus, my connection to the meeting must terminate in 20 minutes to avoid damage to the HPG. Atreus will be out of position for 10 hours starting 2:00 pm Atreus standard time. Your orders?"
Already informed of the possibility in advance, the Primus merely nodded.
"Precentor Atreus. You are to prioritize the complete and total verification of the alien threat and given authorization to board the Indomitable Spirit in person. Any evidence you can gather must be catalogued to end the Third Succession War if necessary. Should the Mechanicus plan to claim credit for such a feat to push their agenda, the Order will undercut it before it can begin.
Next, you will leak today's demonstrations to the public. The political backlash from the other Great Houses for their exclusion will stall these talks and force the Mechanicus to appease both the Houses and Free Worlds League. Leak information on the Captain-General's security detail and the demonstration site if you must.
Finally, you are to investigate anything the Mechanicus' goals and knowledge of Comstar. I doubt the map truly contains all lostech caches in the galaxy. That map possesses locations of numerous Comstar sites and all 5 Hidden Worlds. This is an unacceptable threat to the Order. Expand our access to the Indomitable Spirit as much as possible." The Primus quickly listed.
"I understand Primus." He nodded, heeding the unspoken dismissal.
"Blake be with you Precentor Aliz." The Primus concluded. The rest of the Circuit echoing him as the connection cut.
[Interlude: End]
Not a lot action wise, and I realize that the first few chapters have been nothing but meetings and people talking. Which, shouldn't be boring since its supposed to be the threat of a literal alien invasion, but right now I just can't see anyone really panicking, not the Houses or Comstar. The Periphery will get its own mention as a whole. I don't know half of the states there and it would set me back more time.
Scenes Avalon and Luthien were not proofread, I chugged them out during a break at work, and just want to get this out. This was just meant to cover the rest of the houses and introduce the current state of the First Circuit. No toaster civil wars, since its been 2 days, and they are intelligent people (kinda).
The First Circuit may have its disagreements, but its always civilly and with respect. Definitely not because Julianlookslikehe'llmurderanyonethatstartsshitwhenaliensmightattack, but that's besssssiiiides the point.
Next chapter will be more meetings, but quickly done. Malcador is getting tired of explaining things over and over again. Janos was fine, then the Comstar delegation. Now the House ambassadors. Then parliament. Then Comstar again when they want confirmation. Makes our MC wonder if they paying attention the first time or can't steal it from the League.
Naturally nothing Janos or Malcador planned will go right. Comstar is throwing a wrench into things to buy time and play games.
After meetings is political dealings and the beginnings of the Mechanicus Technology demonstration/showcase. Helm and end of lostech drifts further away, day by day.
Lore and Battletech Mechanics:
So there's no actual hard times for priority HPG message travel speed, and it might not actually have taken the messages 36 hours to make it all from Atreus to Luthien and Avalon. Just chalk it up to disgustingly high HPG traffic, bad conditions, and the lag from stations double checking the message.
I have consulted the index thread, sarna and one other person (idk if they want to be mentioned by name or not, so I'll just stay quiet on it) on who actually held the positions of First Circuit in 3020 and only Precentors ROM and Avalon can be confirmed.
Precentor Avalon, Huthrin Vandel: Appointed by Julian's predecessor, he was an ultra conservative (meaning he believes only Comstar can guide humanity)
Precentor ROM: Tojo Jarlath, has no page and basically no info on him.
Precentor Dieron: At this time, Mad Myndo is only 19 and a 19 year old Precentor is just to much. Will be an OC.
Precentor Tharkad: Unknown. Will be an OC.
Precentor Atreus, Pedrigor Aliz: Has one line on Sarna. I'm taking the name and thats about it. For all intents and purposes an OC. I'll write it up that Precentor Atreus got replaced after the FWL civil war and he was supposed to be a placeholder until things died down.
Date Varied
Real Space
Time Varied
As evening drew on Atreus, the Mechanicus and Free Worlds League prepared for the technology demonstration to come next morning. To the galactic East, the data packet finally completed its journey across the Inner Sphere and Periphery.
On Luthien:
The Coordinator of Worlds was approached during a designated lull in afternoon Court, upholding traditions, even as the populace outside slowly learned of the news. The diplomats, representatives and spies stationed on Atreus sent all they could gather to Subhash Indrahar, Director of the Internal Security Force.
Unity Palace maintained its air of peace and duty, the guards and staff ordered to work as if nothing had changed. Couriers and supplicants seeking audience were turned away or given instructions to await orders from the Dragon. An uneasy stillness slowly spread over Luthien, waiting for the Coordinator's word.
Deep within the Black Room, Coordinator Takashi and Director Subhash spoke long into the day. They discussed the veracity of the news, of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and of their war with Steiner and Davion. The Director brought with him a number of reports, of scans, analysis and documents.
The might of the Indomitable Spirit was clear to see, the unknown method of faster than light travel, its mighty weapons, and no doubt carrying an arsenal of foreign weapons. Both concurred the newly arrived Adeptus Mechanicus would need to be courted, before Captain-General Janos could dig his claws into them any further. Whoever could secure the allegiance or even aid of the Mechanicus would control the Inner Sphere. An end to the Succession Wars was in sight.
Long-standing spies would need to be quietly contacted and activated. Orders were sent. To compose a list of their foes' failures and sins and of the Combine's virtues and strength. Another message of the safety and surety that they could find if they were to graciously bow to the Dragon was drafted, to be presented after initial talks and first contact.
Then, they talked of war. Of the possibility of an alien invasion. The Director slowly convinced his lord that they could not stand by. Not if they wished to quickly enter the Adeptus Mechanicus' good graces. Not if Comstar were to take a stand. The Draconis Combine could not remain neutral if Terra and the HPG network were threatened.
And what if it was a ploy? An act? That the Adeptus Mechanicus, if they even existed, were gone and the aliens merely puppeting their corpse? Takashi countered. Time would tell, Indrahar replied. If no news spread from Atreus, then all would know. The Free Worlds League government and even Comstar would investigate them most thoroughly.
Besides, what people would devise such grand lies and so confidentially cry them for all to hear?
Finally, they spoke of their conquests against Davion and Steiner. A number of commanders and raiding forces had decided to continue pushing on, ignoring cries for truces and ceasefires. If they had dishonored the Dragon, they would atone. If they were victorious and returned with appropriate salvage or adequate prizes, they would be honored. Loosely held worlds would be ransomed back to their holders in return for the mustered soldiery's withdrawal.
For better or worse, none of the active warlords continued their attacks, instead requesting further orders.
To that, neither knew for sure. Yet. There was planning to do, resources to tally and news to await. HPG messages were filed and sent. The Warlords were to gather upon Luthien with all haste, to discuss and plan. With that, their time in the Black Room had ended.
Coordinator Takashi would make a public announcement that the situation would be evaluated and remind the people of Luthien of the duty and composure expected of them.
On Avalon:
The First Prince awoke to his close friend and confidant, Ardan Sortek, banging on his door. Only his position as an unofficial second champion prevented the guards from stopping him. Accompanied by none other than a messenger from the Director of MIIO (Ministry of Information, Intelligence and Operations), Nicholas Truston and what appeared to as many members of his personal staff that they could wrangle at such short notice.
The drowsiness and lethargy quickly disappeared under a large cup of coffee and news of a warship emerging over Atreus. Reconvening in the Fox's den, Hanse Davion listened as Director Nicholas Truston outlined the events of February 2nd in the Free Worlds League. The mention of aliens drew a raised brow and a faked laugh as he read the report on the so called "Indomitable Spirit". Both the Director's report and original messages from Atreus were harshly examined.
Accompanying the report was unconfirmed news of ceasefires and unsteady truces along the border with Liao, the Chancellor ordering his bulk of his forces to standby. To the Prince's chagrin, not all of either his own forces or Chancellor Liao's seemed to care for rumors of an alien invasion.
As most of New Avalon slept, Ardan Sortek was given the task of contacting Comstar to gain a deeper understanding of the situation. Precentor Avalon had verified the news, and was unceremoniously dragged into a long impromptu meeting with the Prince's closest confidant. A long two hours passed before the Precentor could politely eject Ardan from his HPG station.
The night quickly ticked by as the leadership of the Federated Suns gathered. Suggestions and proposals covered the holoboard as they planned a response. Risk assessments were made. Records were consulted for any mention of the "Adeptus Mechanicus". The potential consequences of the mightiest warship in the history of mankind entering the Inner Sphere were theorized and expanded on. Unfortunately, nuclear ordinance was the only realistic option available, and no doubt the Indomitable had a hoard of anti-fighter defenses, even if damaged.
Orders were sent to the diplomats to immediately make contact with the Adeptus Mechanicus. Hopefully the ambassadors had managed in the time since their message was sent. Unexpectedly, the First Prince strangely issued orders to begin work into humanitarian efforts to assist the newly arrived Adeptus Mechanicus and to extend an offer of help and aid, at no cost. Yvonne Davion left the matter of diplomacy and appearances to her Lord, as she complied reports and re-evaluated the AFFS' status.
NAIS was called, and the staff were given orders to begin work-shopping the material requirements such a vessel would require and the difficulties a warship bound people would face.
The night soon came to a close, and Lord Davion left the Fox's Den to prepare an address. As Hanse departed to his apartments for a fresh wardrobe, he confided in Ardan that if the claims of aliens were true, he would have to establish an alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth, and perhaps the Free Worlds League. And just maybe he could force Mad Max to sign a ceasefire if he could secure the Free Worlds League's support. Ardan quickly replied that perhaps he would like the SLDF to return with a fleet of warships, and an army of royal battlemechs, the two sharing a grim laugh.
They continued on, neither voicing the unacceptable option of Kurita.
First Prince Hanse Davion addressed the people as day came, and the rest of Avalon awoke to panicked news of a potential alien threat. He called for calm and clear heads, as he and the Ministries worked to protect the Federated Suns and its people.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus HPG Station
Precentor's Office
Very Early Morning
Precentor Atreus, Predrigor Aliz, suppressed a grimace as the HPG meeting entered its 11th non-continuous hour. He was pushing the HPG enough as it was. The Primus had demanded all members of the First Circuit maintain a connection with Terra for as long as possible, and to rejoin the meeting when conditions allowed. Leading to a chaotic series of talks where re-entering Precentors had to be informed on the latest discussions as they rejoined the session. He would have to depart soon as well.
Their continued use had reduced total HPG use across the Inner Sphere and Periphery by 9.5%. Atreus' HPG output and input were reduced by approximately 14.6% and 8.79%. And at such a critical time as well…the long-term effects on galactic communications would be substantial. For want of nail, as the saying went.
Unfortunately, they were far from done. The Primus had decided the cost was well worth it. And so they still had more to discuss.
For now, the Primus maintained total control of the First Circuit. With both Precentor ROM and the more peaceful and cautious factions of the order thoroughly supporting Primus Tiepolo, no one dared to truly contest the Primus' decision to continue a thorough approach to the situation. Tojo Jarlath was supposed to be mere replacement appointment after the banishment of Vesar Kristor, but it seems the man had integrated himself more into ROM than he had thought.
Time passed slowly as they discussed other useful and important matters. The fate of the SLDF and their location. How to stabilize the galactic economy from this sudden shock. A sudden departure of a Wolves' Dragoons jumpship back towards the Periphery. With their sources in the Archon's palace uncovering that it was reactive a supply cache of some kind. The developing state of unrest in the Periphery. And what to do with the database of advanced technology gifted to them by the Adeptus Mechanicus.
The "rejuvanant" anti-aging methods, anti-gravity systems, other medical and cybernetic technologies, and mass production "adamantium" armor design were the highlights of the Mechanicus' data packet. To the First Circuit's dismay, it was colossal in size, and it would take precious weeks to fully send the contents over HPG. The hastily made command circuit set to arrive within a week or so would have to retrieve it and bring it all the way back to Terra.
Precentor Atreus had transferred from the conference room specifically for HPG meetings to his personal office during an unavoidable 4-hour lapse in his connection. Instead of sitting in an empty room with only holograms of his compatriots, he sat behind his nice and comfortable imported desk. The computer screen displayed the currently attending Precentors while his notes and files sat on a noteputer.
"Omega should prioritize the integration of the data into our naval vessels as soon as possible." Precentor Dieron said. "While I agree that the medical technology, mass production energy weapons systems and weapons schematics will be vital for any potential conflict, we have seen the battlerom of the Mechanicus' fall. We must prepare to rebuild our naval forces to contest any alien invasion."
Precentor Atreus wondered if anyone had realized the lack of mining, engineering, or food production facilities included in the data core. While Malcador had informed them that they were primarily factories that could be quickly built, did he really have nothing to ease logistical concerns to feed these factories and the tens of thousands of de-aged mercenaries, soldiers, experts and agents re-entering service Sphere-wide? Not a single thing? And the open admission the systems were black-boxed. To be even more blatant than the Star League itself in denying access to their secrets. It was insulting.
"This conflict will be far from potential Precentor Dieron." Precentor ROM interrupted. "After these formal and highly public talks with Malcador, the Free Worlds League is all but committed to the conflict. And with the League involved, the Order's facilities in their space are now at risk. It is only a matter of time before a Free Worlds League-Alien conflict drags the blessed Order into it. Janos appears to have realized his position, and at this moment the Free World's League is preparing to hire over 20% of the total mercenaries connected to the MRB (Mercenary Review Board). A significant portion of them will be planned contracts that will activate when alien forces appear."
The Primus and currently present Precentors turned to him. Precentor Atreus ignored their piecing gazes as he pulled up the relevant notes and files. Out of the corner of his eye Primus Tiepolo held a calm and neutral expression as he watched on.
"That is correct. We have decoded multiple messages heading towards the industrial and economic centers of the Free World's League. We have reason to believe Janos is planning on ensuring the Mechanicus come to him for supplies by offering them at a substantial discount, including a credit line in the hundreds of millions. It will most likely end near a billion Eagles (M-bills). The Captain-General has deemed undoing portions of their post civil-war economic recovery an acceptable cost if it means keeping the Mechanicus at his side.
There is also a proposal being drafted to ask Malcador to integrate League personnel into the Indomitable for a technological research program and to lay down initial grounds for their military alliance. He will begin talks with Malcador today during the scheduled technology and weaponry demonstration on Atreus in 6 hours."
"The situation is preceding too quickly." Precentor Avalon observed. "The Mechanicus and Free Worlds League's talks must be stopped! It would be unacceptable if the Mechanicus and Indomitable Spirit were suborned by a Great House."
A Company Store Policy? He pondered it as the rest of them discussed how to take back control of the situation. The Mechanicus were a civilization, not a mercenary command. Could (what was left of) a sovereign entity be taken over solely through debts? Admittingly the Mechanicus had no source of supplies… He doubted they would be able to independently find a supplier without some interference or sabotage. The precedent would be unpleasant, regardless if it worked or not. It reeked of the dissolution of the Terran Hegemony.
Practically, how could the Free World's League even enforce such a plan? Have troops onboard Indomitable seize it? If the Mechanicus allowed that many soldiers to be stationed on the vessel, the situation would have already degraded far too much for the Order's plans. No Great House would be allowed exclusive access to the Mechanicus.
The computer chimed, ending their discussion. Precentors Tharkad and Sian reappeared in their holographic seats on the screen. He frowned. They were over half an hour late.
Primus Tiepolo leaned forward. "Precentors Tharkad and Sian, have you both read and reviewed the necessary documents to continue this discussion?" What? It took a moment, but he understood now.
It was for the best that they would have some time to study the documents before joining in the discussion.
Precentor Tharkad spoke first, cutting off Precentor Sian as he made to speak. "Primus! These lostech caches endanger the entirety of Holy Shroud. If even a tenth of them are discovered, it would undo centuries of work! Surely, we have no intention of allowing the Houses or Mechanicus to uncover them!?"
Primus Tiepolo only gave Precentor Tharkad a blank stare, the very picture of neutrality, but his eyes and air said otherwise. To his credit, Precentor Tharkad did not back down in the face of the Primus ire. "And what would you propose instead Precentor? The Mechanicus will no doubt share their technology in exchange for supplies and political capital. Even now, Malcador has made overtures to numerous embassies on Atreus. Asking for assistance and ceasefires, in exchange for the Mechanicus' wonders.
Precentor Atreus has confirmed that the planned weapons and technology demonstrations are very well on schedule. For all intents and purposes, unless we were to successfully destroy the Indomitable Spirit in its entirety before any data transfer, the Free World's League can technologically recover."
"Primus, I am not referring to the state of technological regression, but of conflict! Already numerous battles across the Sphere are escalating instead of ending. Too many parties are deciding this would be their last chance to inflict damage or take revenge! Simply too many of these commanders are nobility or high ranking enough to be censured for these acts.
I do not believe the Houses are in any acceptable state to begin uncovering these caches. Too many of them are on contested worlds. If the Order were to allow even half of them to be known, the consequences would be disastrous!" Precentor Tharkad countered, earning a brief nod of agreement from Precentor Avalon.
"Will we not consider the threat this map presents to our Order? Any world we ask to be redacted is a potential site for them to evaluate. The very secrecy protecting the Order's caches would be lost! We have no way of contesting the Indomitable should it arrive over any of our sites.
That is not even considering what the Houses would do if they are discovered. I doubt that the Mechanicus will stand for over half the map being redacted. We must stop them before they reveal this information to the houses, by whatever means necessary." Precentor Dieron angrily interjected.
"Primus, we cannot allow this map to released." He suppressed a scoff. From his own observations, Malcador assurances of time did not match his current behavior. His public announcement had ensured the Houses and Periphery would panic and be stirred to action.
Malcador would continue his talks with the the Free Worlds League and most likely the House and Periphery, regardless of whatever Comstar had to say. After these technology demonstrations, he and Janos would finalize whatever deal they had, leaving them to retrieve the caches. No doubt Janos knew as soon as the Mechanicus had what they wanted they could up and abandon the Free Worlds League. Whatever their plans were, it no doubt would culminate in their journey to the "Pentagon Worlds".
And…and then…
The realization struck him.
In the chaos as they would no doubt leave behind, initiate contact with the SLDF in-exile. All the while the Order would be forced to manage the chaos and expend its resources calming the Houses. Leaving the Mechanicus to make a triumphant return, with good ties formed with the Star League.
Precentor Sian spoke up. "What of the unknown nature of our opposition? While yes, the Mechanicus encountered them 2600 light years south of Terra, but how long did it take for them to reach Atreus? As Malcador stated in his meeting with Captain-General Janos, we have no true idea when they could discover our borders.
Will we truly strain the Comguards and Order with secretly collecting these caches and then guarding all of the Periphery and Inner Sphere? How will we justify the appearance of so much lostech? All while feuding with the Mechancius? Can we afford the risk that the Order can collect and then sufficiently man, all before any alien force arrives? All while rearming and reactivating our own forces?"
No one brought up they could simply use whatever states were under attack and the Mechanicus as shields to buy more time. [Perhaps that would be for the best.] Such lines of thought could be considered dangerously close to opposing Comstar's goals.
An uncomfortable silence followed in the wake of Precentor Sian's questions. No one apparently having an answer to that issue.
It drew, on and on as they looked at each other, waiting for someone to speak. The Primus eyes minutely glanced to his left, scanning something. No doubt documents of some kind. Blessingly, Precentor ROM ended the silence.
"We must gather more information." Precentor ROM confidently stated. "We know for certain there is a degree of authenticity to this map. It has profiles for every lostech cache reported by the Houses, Periphery and the Order since the fall of the Star League, classified and public. On Terra itself, the Rifleman 3 prototype developed by Amaris was located one hour ago. The coordinates matched the map down to the meter. In a few short hours it will be completely uncovered for confirmation."
Precentor ROM's hologram switched to a display of the map and profile on the battlemech, before flicking to some kind of orbital facility. Precentor Atreus barely had a moment to note the alarming amount of firepower and stealth systems on the design before it changed.
Ah. That had caused a stir when it was discovered on the map.
"In 1 week, the Invader jumpship Word's Integrity will finish preparations and depart to investigate the supposedly decommissioned Warship factory located far above the Sol system. If the database is correct, it is in a state of severe disrepair and was stripped of critical components two years before Kerensky's final assault on Terra, but it is one of the only warship factories left in either the Inner Sphere of Periphery aside from our own."
Finally, the hologram switched to a map of the Inner Sphere and Periphery. Thousands of dots were scattered across the map, all color coded and numbered to mark size, technological level and ease of access.
"Supposedly, Malcador has included all but 2 lostech sites on this map, according to the note attached to the very beginning of the database. We know both are in Free World's space, and that one is on a long dead world and the other is on long-standing Free World's planet. Whatever these caches are, they are so valuable Malcador is willing to release substantial amounts of technology to the League in exchange for access and the entirety of this map to the Order, Inner Sphere and Periphery. We can hypothesize that they are unlikely to be mass production mech factories, experimental research labs, nuclear weapons or shipyards based on the 87 total sites disclosed thus far."
His own computer blared a short siren. The rest of the Circuit paused at the noise. He recognized that alarm. Curses! "Primus, my connection to the meeting must terminate in 20 minutes to avoid damage to the HPG. Atreus will be out of position for 10 hours starting 2:00 pm Atreus standard time. Your orders?"
Already informed of the possibility in advance, the Primus merely nodded.
"Precentor Atreus. You are to prioritize the complete and total verification of the alien threat and given authorization to board the Indomitable Spirit in person. Any evidence you can gather must be catalogued to end the Third Succession War if necessary. Should the Mechanicus plan to claim credit for such a feat to push their agenda, the Order will undercut it before it can begin.
Next, you will leak today's demonstrations to the public. The political backlash from the other Great Houses for their exclusion will stall these talks and force the Mechanicus to appease both the Houses and Free Worlds League. Leak information on the Captain-General's security detail and the demonstration site if you must.
Finally, you are to investigate anything the Mechanicus' goals and knowledge of Comstar. I doubt the map truly contains all lostech caches in the galaxy. That map possesses locations of numerous Comstar sites and all 5 Hidden Worlds. This is an unacceptable threat to the Order. Expand our access to the Indomitable Spirit as much as possible." The Primus quickly listed.
"I understand Primus." He nodded, heeding the unspoken dismissal.
"Blake be with you Precentor Aliz." The Primus concluded. The rest of the Circuit echoing him as the connection cut.
[Interlude: End]
Not a lot action wise, and I realize that the first few chapters have been nothing but meetings and people talking. Which, shouldn't be boring since its supposed to be the threat of a literal alien invasion, but right now I just can't see anyone really panicking, not the Houses or Comstar. The Periphery will get its own mention as a whole. I don't know half of the states there and it would set me back more time.
Scenes Avalon and Luthien were not proofread, I chugged them out during a break at work, and just want to get this out. This was just meant to cover the rest of the houses and introduce the current state of the First Circuit. No toaster civil wars, since its been 2 days, and they are intelligent people (kinda).
The First Circuit may have its disagreements, but its always civilly and with respect. Definitely not because Julianlookslikehe'llmurderanyonethatstartsshitwhenaliensmightattack, but that's besssssiiiides the point.
Next chapter will be more meetings, but quickly done. Malcador is getting tired of explaining things over and over again. Janos was fine, then the Comstar delegation. Now the House ambassadors. Then parliament. Then Comstar again when they want confirmation. Makes our MC wonder if they paying attention the first time or can't steal it from the League.
Naturally nothing Janos or Malcador planned will go right. Comstar is throwing a wrench into things to buy time and play games.
After meetings is political dealings and the beginnings of the Mechanicus Technology demonstration/showcase. Helm and end of lostech drifts further away, day by day.
Lore and Battletech Mechanics:
So there's no actual hard times for priority HPG message travel speed, and it might not actually have taken the messages 36 hours to make it all from Atreus to Luthien and Avalon. Just chalk it up to disgustingly high HPG traffic, bad conditions, and the lag from stations double checking the message.
I have consulted the index thread, sarna and one other person (idk if they want to be mentioned by name or not, so I'll just stay quiet on it) on who actually held the positions of First Circuit in 3020 and only Precentors ROM and Avalon can be confirmed.
Precentor Avalon, Huthrin Vandel: Appointed by Julian's predecessor, he was an ultra conservative (meaning he believes only Comstar can guide humanity)
Precentor ROM: Tojo Jarlath, has no page and basically no info on him.
Precentor Dieron: At this time, Mad Myndo is only 19 and a 19 year old Precentor is just to much. Will be an OC.
Precentor Tharkad: Unknown. Will be an OC.
Precentor Atreus, Pedrigor Aliz: Has one line on Sarna. I'm taking the name and thats about it. For all intents and purposes an OC. I'll write it up that Precentor Atreus got replaced after the FWL civil war and he was supposed to be a placeholder until things died down.
Chapter 5: Technology Showcase Begins
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
Common Imperial names changed by Malcador:
Servoskull>Servodrone
Servitor>Unnamed to avoid aggravating Capellan Confederacy, and mostly erased from files
Abhuman>Variant
Ogryn>Giant
Ratling>Halfling
Imperial Guard>(The) Guard
Imperial Knight>Knight
Sisters of Battle: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
Office of the Commissiariat: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
The Inquisition: Concealed from records.
[-----------------]
February 3th, 3020
Atreus
Atreus Atmosphere
(Very) Late Evening
I returned to the Indomitable Spirit's command center shortly after Comstar's investigators left. A scan of the areas they had traveled through revealed no bugs or signs of subterfuge. Follow-up reviews of the security footage revealed none of them had tried to access restricted areas or even access any classified materials present in the labs. Nothing more than a few wandering gazes. Not even a prying question to the crew. They mainly discussed the biology of the aliens and our data.
A sign of my security at this time or was it too soon for them to start their usual routine? Maybe they would only start after they could secure reliable access to the ship? Unfortunately, I had no choice but to buy into Comstar's scheme. That had been an interesting conversation when I bought a Comstar account. Payment was handed to Representative Miles and his delegation during their visit. The Adeptus Mechanicus now has a premium Comstar subscription, paid for with solid gold melted down from the large amounts of imperial/mechanicus regalia I couldn't reasonably explain.
As tempting as avoiding the Constar's trap was, I needed access to galactic communications to form diplomatic ties, with all that entailed. I would just have to deal with ROM reading whatever messages I was sending to the houses and periphery states. I doubted whatever normal encryption methods the houses utilized would stand up to Comstar's undivided attention.
The little time I had left on the mag-rail running along the middle of the ship was spent resting. All of my attention for today had been focused on the many tests and data briefs on the orks. Representative Miles and his staff were wonderfully thorough in their investigation. Too thorough to dismiss my claims without outright lying or obstruction. Hopefully the First Circuit's inevitable nonsense will be manageable.
An Iron Warrior and the small group of skitarii standing guard remained motionless as I made my way past the primary security checkpoint before entering the bridge. If I still had my nose I would have been barraged with the smell of leftover of oil and wax. The massive control center remained as busy as ever. Converted servoskulls flew over and between passing crew, mechanicus officers tabulated data, the small number of non-augmented officers tonelessly issued their orders into the vox, and a thousand other tasks needed to maintain this vessel continued. [Perhaps I should just stick with servodrones and close the matter.] I ignored the data-streams, terminals and holograms as I approached the central dais. The acting captain had already disconnected from the Indomitable Spirit's systems and departed for their assigned post.
I quickly made my way to the command throne. Programmed mechadendrites rose from the throne, connecting various wires and cables to my body as I sat down. My cybernetic eye dimmed as I switched on the far more powerful cameras available on the ship.
A techpriest went about the process of unfastening my brain's protective armor. The adamantium plating on the back of my head opened. Clicks and whirs from connectors echoed inside my head. I turned down my audio receptors and ignored the vibrations.
A minute passed as the connection was established. Wires connected to the final ports protruding into my brain. Signals traveled to and from my bond with the Indomitable. I entered the systems of my flagship.
It was no wonder the mechanicus believed their technology was alive. Cogitators demanded data with an almost animalistic hunger. Programs compiling my thoughts and notes rapidly tabulated the comparatively small sparks of brain-activity into preliminary datasets and requests. The weapons early awaited firing solutions, waiting for designated targets. Every thought threatened to turn into something more. I began the process of wrestling the systems into order.
Soon enough, reports came in from the noopshere and my data-cables, flowing into my physical databanks and mind. I combed through the data, making notes for further review tonight before I entered a sleep cycle. Things were…fine, more or less.
All primary systems were still functional. I logged the ever-increasing demands for replacement parts and compared them to the predicted outputs and expenditures. The warp drive would need replacement parts within the next two and a half months to maintain peak efficiency. Production of minor parts would take a month from raw material to finished product. Obtaining the rare earth metals for warp drive parts without tipping off anyone would be troublesome. It would be a cold day in hell before I allowed anyone access to warp technology without my consent.
Hiding the metals amongst any purchases I make would only delay reverse engineering. While they lacked the critical knowledge on how to make the leap from raw materials to a functioning warp drive, they only needed to be lucky once. Something this universe has already done creating the K/F drive. Comstar, the Clans and Houses had all the time in the world(galaxy?) to experiment.
Latest estimates concluded there was enough fuel for 8 months of high activity. A year and 2 months if I completely rationed our supply of promethium. Construction of the most basic refueling equipment would take a month if I devoted the majority of my production capacity to it. Processing a supply of materials for promethium would be easy. I had enough STC fragments and old mechanicus plans to cobble something together when I found an ideal site. The perfect map of the Inner Sphere, Periphery and surrounding space sprang up in front of me. Almost a hundred worlds were highlighted. The resources were out there. I just needed the mining rights to legally extract it.
I would need to move up the sale of the now mostly useless artisan goods and stockpile of precious materials still in the holds. Based on the Terran and FWL commodities exchange, I had around 379.8 million Eagles or 340.2 million C-bills in precious materials, mainly gold. The money would help me buy some of the more common and less critical materials needed for the ship, but I needed more. At least for the next few months. Charity drive? No. Auction? No, something more official. I sent the matter to an imperial noble to work on it before moving on.
To my relief, that was the last major notification on our supply situation.
The Free Worlds League placed a strong, but polite request for a formal escort for the Indomitable Spirit since it was in their territory. They'd been quick to assure me they would be staying around 800 kilometers away from the ship, and only a "token" force. I cautiously granted their request. While the void shields, defensive air fleet and anti-air countermeasures were very thorough, 800 kilometers was a blink of an eye for space travel, and I had no idea what House Marik had stockpiled.
There was no news on my cybernetic appearance circulating in the news so far. The disturbingly large anti-cybernetics block in Parliament hasn't made any overt moves from what my staff could see either. And I had contacted the various ambassadors on Atreus through a minimally augmented imperial. As soon as the Captain-General and Parliament confirmed what I was offering them, they'd be hooked, controversy be damned.
Comstar was an issue, but that was unavoidable. Who knows what they would do if they thought I had deceived them with a normal human? They were already on edge. I had to rely on the raw truth to delay any instinctive backlash against me.
To my pleasant surprise, the few mechanicus researchers dedicated to energy systems had made a few small, but potentially key breakthroughs in plasma containment. They predicted that should they maintain their current pace, the archmagos could have more tangible results by the end of the decade. I'd need to have their work forwarded to a few of the other labs to accelerate their results. And snag a copy for my own review. I would have smiled if I still had the parts for it, so I had to settle for a pleased hum.
Aside from that, nothing else of importance was reported to me, leaving the oral reports.
While the various archmagos merely sent their reports over the noosphere, the augmented guard officers and civilians on my staff were still mainly unable to participate in large scale data transfer aside from manually composed datafiles. It was fine, I needed any practice I could get on actually talking with people again. And they needed further testing before I would allow them to independently interact with society.
A group of "advisors" had gone with reduced access to the noosphere for the past 4 weeks. A complete shutoff from the Command Node and only access to general noosphere functions and information. I had installed a set of implants that should hopefully help them mimic acting human again. It was time to test how they had fared since then. They entered the bridge and gathered before me.
"Report." I ordered, letting them decide for themselves. To my surprise, a Guard officer made the first move.
The first to step forward was a cadian. General Varsk had the increasingly rare trait of hailing from Cadia itself before the 13th Black Crusade shattered it, and not merely being from New Cadia or any other cadian colonies. "Chief-Fabricator. We have completed all preliminary checks on the equipment for tomorrow's demonstration. The Guard stands ready." He began in stilted english. [Acceptable pronunciation.]
There was a stiffness in his voice. Biometric scans revealed an increased heart rate. Varsk's purple eyes slightly wavered to the left and right, resisting the urge to look at his peers. I slightly looked down. His hands tensed and wavered just slightly, resisting the urge to form full fists.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Nervousness. 42% Accuracy. Slight Calm: 64% accuracy. Error detected.[+] [Facial muscles aren't completely in sync. Minute lag between body language and expressions.] Progress, but not enough.
"And the integration of the mark 3 Sigilitte Armor?" I asked.
Modifying the standard armor designated for the sisters of battle for both genders was surprisingly difficult. Sebastion Thor and the then Fabricator-General of Mars had spent considerable time and resources ensuring the suit would be as cumbersome as possible for men to satisfy the Decree Passive.
Sensors integrated into core sections of the armor, including the ridiculous chest plate. The artificial muscles and armor conformed slightly more to the female form. Speech recognition software built into the helmet that checked for hymns and speech patterns. Datakeys that locked the armor if not maintained by specialist techpriests or sanctioned members of the Imperial Cult. Even the catheter wasn't spared. Checks on checks on checks.
And then the rampant protections the mechanicus put into any advanced piece of technology they produced for the Imperium. If martian rumors were correct, even the Custodes and their own technological servants also participated in a fashion.
It was frightening, how through the Imperium could be when its constituent parts actually worked together. If it wasn't for the Votann node and having backdoor access through said mechanicus specialists, I would still be working on it.
The General relaxed, shoulders easing at the familiar topic. "Slowly, but surely sir. Colonel Myra reports that we can field 10,000 guardsmen with high proficiency in Sigillite armor." Varsk confidently answered, head held high. The remaining officers behind him gave their own subtle signs of approval.
"Truly?" I replied. That was an increase from the 9,500 last month. The former Canoness Commander now guardsman was a perfectionist before being taken. Sabrana Myra hailed from a sect that managed to survive the Great Rift due to favoring martial prowess over displays of faith. Their success had only strengthened that belief. She demanded the best in any sister placed under her command. Her strict standards had completely carried over into Battletech. Colonel Myra wouldn't approve a guardsmen if they couldn't at least outperform her sect's standard sororitas sister.
"They have met all the necessary standards set by colonel Myra. I believe by year's end they can match Hammer Division in performance."
Wonderfully high praise. And an overestimation, bordering on a lie. One we both knew. Standard guardsmen in modified sisters' armor were not an equivalent to the monsters making up the Hammer Divisions. The General knew how enhanced they were. He'd seen it during the raids. Soroitas armor was a decent piece of equipment, but it was nothing compared to the customized power armor the ogryn received.
The last trials found that the guard needed 3.21 men in sigillite armor to match a single ogryn alone, disregarding multi-tasking. And that wasn't counting their specialized support or weapons. Was he considering the elite formations also under his purview or was this cadian arrogance? Assumption their skills would only increase? Dare I say faith in his soldiers? I needed to check the general's details.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Pride. Low levels of nervousness. 35% Accuracy. Calm. Acceptance, 57% Accuracy. Error detected.{+} An unexpected jump in performance. I wanted to continue questioning him along that line of thought. What were his exact modifications…
Varsk was running a type 1 implant, and the 4th iteration…it wouldn't record his data thoughts as well as the developing type 5. I wanted to start a direct download from his augments to analyze the data, but it couldn't transmit the data and manage his faux-emotions simultaneously. Doing anything now would taint the experiment. I could initiate data recovery, but it would disable Varsk for a few days, and he might be needed for the technology demonstrations.
He slowly shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for a response. A small amount of sweat was building on his forehead. Not enough to be visible to the naked eye, but it was growing.
"I see, thank you general. Chistophos Stravos." The thoroughly rejuvenated imperial noble turned teacher stepped forward, dressed in the sturdy red robes of his new station. He wore a wig and false scalp to cover the cybernetics now taking up the back of his skull. "My Lord." He greeted me in english with only the faintest hints of an accent. "How goes teaching the final generation?" I asked the one of the few remaining imperial nobles on my ship.
Stravos had only political knowledge as the 2nd son of a planetary governor, he couldn't serve as an ambassador. He was from a recently terraformed imperial backwater in segmentum solar. His experience was not suitable for interacting with the many different cultures present in this universe, let alone the melting pot of the Free Worlds League. At best he would be a simple mouthpiece, repeating anything I was going to say. It was more politically expedient to appoint magi who I could manage through the noosphere. The cultural advantages of employing regular people just weren't attainable with the current augmentations.
With nowhere else to go, the noble joined the rest of the imperials testing for the jobs that suited them best. His results indicated he would be best used in education.
"At a suitable pace Chief-Fabricator." Stravos reported, fingers slightly drumming on the side of his dataslate. "At our current pace, the advanced classes will be ready to test into formal apprenticeships within 3 months." He claimed, forwarding me a report on his assigned classes through the noosphere. I made a mark on his assessment. Good, he remembered to give more exacting estimates. Stravos' noble upbringing taught him to use very broad terminology to avoid being liable if any of his duties went awry.
It wasn't formatted well, but that was fine, he'd kept it short at 40 pages. Their studies were slow, but steady proceeding. Imperial and Mechanicus education for shipboard menials and serfs was non-existent aside from basic numbers, concepts and anything related to their required duties.
Which for the Imperium of Man was mostly just what buttons to press and in what order. Building a comprehensive education system for a society that didn't know how any of its technology really worked was beyond patchwork. [Another mark to raid Helm sooner.] For all Warhammer 40k was normally depicting dominating other franchises in crossovers, it was teeth pulling that we didn't know how any of our technology actually worked past a certain point.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Low levels of stress. Calm.{+} Promising. No irregularities in body language. His implants were working at…86%. I paused at the readout.
That was below the expected range of activity. It should be around 88% or above. Since he wasn't assigned for combat duty, I had been able to implant more augmentations than usual. I'd personally installed Stravos' implants. There was a bevy of cybernetics that should be running.
Even though a full diagnostic check wasn't available, I could check which implants weren't running. Emotion emulation was running lower than it should have. Memory was drawing more power. Something to check later tonight.
"I am pleased you have heeded my advice Stravos. Exact measurements are much better for comprehensive reading." I told him. Would pushing him off kilter make his usage increase? I discreetly looked at the crowd of officers and officials behind him. Four more guard officers, a magos biologis, an acting captain, 2 mechanicus initiates, 6 potential diplomats, a commissar, 2 ogyrn, and 13 miscellaneous personnel.
Next time. "I look forward to seeing further improvement in your reports and work. Dismissed." I said before turning to the next in line.
"My duties are a blessing, sir." He politely remarked before returning to the crowd.
…
The rest of the reports passed. I considered the data from tonight's reports. Potentially promising with more time. One test wasn't enough to solidify the outcome, but I liked what I saw so far. Appropriate levels of body language and emotional cues. I didn't like how some of them copied from others reporting, it was a sign their emulator had come up short and was searching for local data. On the other hand, didn't people do that too? I wonder if 'reading the room' was still a phrase in this age?
"Inquisitor, Archmagos. Your thoughts." I ordered. The two old monsters came forward as the rest returned to their domiciles for rest.
Inquisitor Haal spoke first, in high gothic. {"Chief-Fabricator, they demonstrated moderate results, but I cannot approve deployment of these men and women to the coming technology demonstrations or further talks with the Free Worlds League."} I nodded in agreement, excusing the lapse back into gothic.
My personal emotion scanner used data from countless civilizations the Mechanicus interacted with, with a considerable leaning away from absolutes. I didn't know how well Comstar and the Houses biometric scanners worked. If they could read micro-expressions and biological data well enough, they could catch the same errors I had. And if they couldn't perform adequately, they couldn't be deployed. Getting caught would lead to questions. Ones I could not answer without further alienating us.
Archmagos Serallo joined the conversation. The towering archmagos' mechadendrites flexed. "Emotion emulators and mimicry programs will require further refinement. Past hypothesis of personnel selection is the only remaining course of action. Emotion Emulators remain nonviable for use of technology demonstrations. Inquisition agents necessary for the foreseeable future."
I resisted the urge to tap my claws against the arms of the throne or leak any of my annoyance to the noosphere. We had determined certain inquisitors and their agents can efficiently mimic normal behavior after the change. With a few implants to generate the needed biological activity the illusion of intelligence and free will was complete. Callidus assassins barely even needed any changes.
The only issue was I had less than two hundred of them and it only kicked the can down the road. A few hundred people among the rest of the crew showed promise, but it would take more time to train them. And it didn't solve the issue with the rest of the crew. Developing emotion modulators was intended to restore a semblance of life back into the people…if only for appearance's sake.
"Agreement." That meant some of my spies will be stuck working diplomacy for the foreseeable future. "Inquisitor, finalize the most acceptable candidates for tomorrow's technology demonstration. And keep the number low, no more than 10." I ordered, sending priority orders through the noosphere. The required supplies would be rerouted to them. This was going to become even more expensive. While Inquisitor Haal was competent, he was a creature of Terra. Apparently inquisitors that spent too much time assigned to Terra became too used to the resources routed to them. The consequences of having priority access to unlimited resources at all times.
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Atreus City
Parliament Building
Morning
"Captain-General. Priority communication call from SAFE." A secretary announced. Janos tensed from behind his desk, putting down the fascinating report on power armor. [And the day just started.] "I'll take it, transfer it to my desk."
"What's happened?" Who was it now? Parliament or the Adeptus Mechanicus? God forbid the Lyrans of Capellans had decided to act up. Maybe he'd be able to put the pending mutual defense treaty Malcador wanted to use. He'd love to knock Max or Katrina down a peg. It'd certainly get Humprey's and rest to shut up.
His emergency powers were vast, but even the potential end of the world or alien invasion couldn't make Parliament cooperate with him. Almost all of yesterday was spent negotiating with Parliament for the soft limits on his emergency authority.
"Captain-General, have you opened limited time in your schedule for meetings with members of Parliament?" SAFE Director Rebecca McParland asked.
"No, I most certainly have not Director." He coldly replied. Of course it was Parliament. It was almost depressing he still had to figure out who was it now. He suppressed the urge to sigh.
"A notice was just sent out to Parliament that you would be available for flexible meetings this morning before the Adeptus Mechanicus delegation arrives." It wasn't the most ridiculous thing he'd seen from them, not even top 10, but God now was not the time. "Who sent it?"
"A staffer received orders to distribute the email to 10 members of Parliament. They received the orders twenty minutes ago." And no doubt, the staffer was somewhat low on the hierarchy and if he looked deeper, the friend, enemy, servant, son, daughter (or some bizarre combination) of a low to mid ranking noble. Who was probably the same to another noble. All unofficially of course. Only rumors and gossip. Nothing SAFE could prove in a court of law. If they could even get the warrant.
Knock. Knock. "Captain-General. Captain-General!" That was one of Catherine's stogies. Ugh.
"Sir, the Captain-General is currently in a meeting. Please wait." That seemed to silence the man. [Thank god for small mercies.] A phone outside his office rang.
This was his third-backup office, buried deep in the depths of Parliament. He'd chosen this office and taken hidden routes in the building to avoid them. How did they know he was here? Ring. Ring. That was his personal phone, he had a message. {Captain-General-} He shut off the phone. This number was meant for his family and his few trusted contacts. Was.
"How many members of Parliament have been forwarded the message?" This was going to turn into a fiasco. And they were going to throw another tantrum after he accepted no visitors. It was going to look like he summoned them all only to abruptly dismiss them. Another chip at his "emergency powers". [So Catherine's already started.] She wouldn't let something like this happen without her consent.
"At least 30 sir, most likely half of Parliament knows by now." Director McParland stiffly replied.
A secretary slightly opened the door, handing a note to one of the guards. The guard dutifully deposited it on his desk. {Captain-General, Captain Kokleon is on the line. There's a member of Parliament trying to join the delegation to the Indomitable Spirit. They claim you're on the vessel.} The note read.
"I'll have to call you back Director. Look into the leak." He calmly grit out, trying not to show any sign of his building irritation. That would only give them a sign this stunt was actually working.
He'd read most of the extensive executive summary on the technologies and samples the Adeptus Mechanicus was going to start offering today, and he wanted it in League hands immediately.
"Understood Captain-General." Click. He gently pressed the end call button. As cathartic as slamming the phone down as hard as he can would be, it'll probably be ringing again in an hour. Most likely the Chief-Fabricator asking where the inspectors were. He let himself have a small puff of anger. Parliament wanted to play games? Fine.
Janos called the secretary in, and pointedly ignored Catherine's latest sacrificial pawn outside. "Get me Captain Kokleon and the head of security."
Someone was going to pay for this.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Hanger 3 "Heavy Loading"
Morning
They were going to be late.
"Chief-Fabricator, the Free Worlds League has not sent a revised timetable." An archmagos reported. Sensors indicated no FWL vessels had departed the primary spaceports and no currently spacefaring vessels were making way for the Indomitable Spirit. Unless Janos planned on unveiling his own teleportation technology, his delegates weren't making it in the 5 minutes left.
If the Inquisition agents and 20 or so magos making up my intelligence agency were correct, there were three primary spaceports close enough for the inspectors could leave from. One by Parliament itself, another by Atreus city and a third in the far north of the Corin continent. Unfortunately, I could only somewhat observe 1 of them.
The dropship and ASF escort now attached to the Indomitable Spirit didn't have any answers. Now what? I was already in the hanger. Heading back to the command center would take too long. I'd budgeted the entire day for time on Atreus. Knowing my luck, if I left to go do work, Janos would call me.
The minutes slowly ticked by. Nothing. Had something happened? Data flowed to me from the noosphere. No uptick in radio traffic. No panic on the news stations. No sirens.
{+}Indomitable Spirit Communications: Chief-Fabricator, incoming communication request with Free Worlds League government. Speaker Hector Steward.{+}
A modified servoskull drifted to my right and opened the connection. "Greetings Speaker Steward." I said, slightly whirring my mechanical eye. Unfortunately, the hologram wasn't accurate enough to make stable observations with my emotion scanner. He didn't seem to have any discomfort at my eye shifting.
"The Free Worlds League apologizes for the late response Chief-Fabricator. The small-craft meant to transport the inspectors had run into unexpected delays. They are currently transferring to another and will arrive within 30 minutes." Either he was lying or someone sabotaged it. I doubt a house spy could accomplish this in 2 days. Comstar. Had they made their decision? The thought filled me with dread.
There was no way the Free Worlds League would let any technical delays happen and delay the demonstrations. Without any embellishment, this was going to be one of the most important events in Free Worlds League history. The Captain-General knew this. If Parliament was even remotely informed they would want it to go forward.
I had clearly defined what was on the table in the notes sent to them right after returning from my meeting with him. There were anti-gravity plates and stasis capsules in the 1st lander. I had power armor waiting in the 2nd lander. And that was just the beginning of the demonstrations. If this deal went through, Janos would see his people jump forward centuries.
"A minor delay then. I have no significant concerns." I assured him. As tempting as it was to try and gain leverage now, the Captain-General could hold a grudge. My curiosity had revealed more on the long-lasting feud between the Captain-General and Cranston Snord. I had to pick my battles carefully.
[And to watch for treachery.]
"You have my thanks Chief-Fabricator." Steward replied, before he terminated the call.
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Early-afternoon
The inspection proceeded quickly. While the vast majority of the Landers' items needed to be surveyed for verification before we could bring them planetside, it was a formality. The Captain-General wanted these items, and the inspectors found that everything was indeed on the list aside from my own security needs.
My limited security at that. I was not blind to the choice of demonstration ground and security requirements. There were no mechs for today's demonstrations, only exotic and infantry technologies. Thus, I had no battlemech support. There were 50 skitarri and guardsmen, 20 hammer division ogyrn, 10 automatons, 3 iron warriors, a (undisclosed) repurposed assassinorum team accompanying me, and that was it. My archmagi and techpriests couldn't participate in a defense without gutting even more of the Mechanicus' slowly dwindling experts.
Camp Karpov was situated in the north of the capital, where the cold would benefit the base's battlemechs. I had anti-tank weapons, but any hypothetical engagement would end with the vast majority of my forces dead. To be completely honest, if the Indomitable Spirit wasn't only a radio call away, I might have refused it altogether.
The wonders of implied diplomacy. I held orbit. They held the ground. And as long as it worked towards our mutual benefit, it would be a stable situation. With an extended hand of trust in the form of my safety enough to push things along.
I voiced none of these concerns as we passed through the final security checkpoint in the depths of Camp Karpov.
"Greetings Captain-General Marik." I greeted the ruler of the Free Worlds League, sans mask. The various members of Parliament in attendance had managed to mostly hide their disgust of me and my delegation. However, there were fewer in attendance than I expected. Were only select leaders of Parliament allowed for such an important meeting?
"Greetings to you as well Chief-Fabricator." He replied, raising his hand to shake as the cameras flashed. I gave him a polite shake. "And a most impressive pair of guards." He remarked at the towering astartes and even taller ogryn behind me. I stood at a modest (for an imperial) 2 meters (6.6 feet), the space marine was 2.5 meters (8.2 feet) and the ogyrn was just shy of 3 meters (10 feet) in his power armor. The Captain-General had to tilt his head up to meet their gaze. To his credit, he didn't show any nerves at either one.
I turned to the two of them. The magos managing the ogryn gave the call clear over the noosphere, he was ready. "Legionnaire, Sergeant, please introduce ourselves."
With a hiss both of them unequipped their helmets. Sergeant Huck spoke first. "I am Sergeant Huck, of homo-sapiens gigantus. Also known as 'giants'." He said with all the grace (not much without replacing their vocal cords) a 'giant' can muster. Hmmm. More work would be needed fixing their accents. It was so heavy they might not have understood him.
"Legionnaire Sidero, of the Legionnes Astartes." The Iron Warrior spoke in fluent English, inclining his head towards the Captain-General.
Janos' brow quirked at the official name of 'giants'. "The Adeptus Mechanicus once experimented in creating new versions of the human genus. We simply refer to them as Variants in more casual conversation." I explained, gesturing as a servodrone came to my side. "Fascinating." Janos commented as the servodrone began displaying images of the more generally 'accepted' abhumans among the Imperium and Mechanicus' ranks. Carefully curated to paint them in a more neutral light.
{+}Archmagos Io-91: Warning. Heightened emotional response among Free Worlds guards and officials.{+} I replayed the footage in my cybernetic eye. It only took a moment for me to discover which. That was unfortunate. The Felinid and Pelagor had caused that reaction. I suppose seeing hairy cat people and blue fishmen was too much for their tolerances, even compared to the more cybernetic mechanicus.
The Captain-General's eyes turned to Legionnaire Sidero. "The Legionnes Astartes are not a variant, but rather a super-soldier program. The process inducts standard baseline humans, and transforms them to the man standing before you." I added as Huck took the opportunity to put his helmet back on and return to his position. Sidero remained at rest, helmet in hand. It was almost awkward seeing a space marine so unarmed, but there was no way an astartes would be allowed to any bring of his typical weapons this close to a House Lord.
"But that is outside the bounds of today's demonstrations." I said. It seems their dislike of modifications was going to extend to the rest of my people. What were the odds Janos had to omit the more… "opinionated" members of Parliament from greeting me? Or were only his supporters here? Neither one bode well.
As if sensing his own people's steadily growing apprehension, Janos agreed. I noted the Parliament members with more disgusted reactions. The inquisitors will need to begin assembling profiles. And a new name. Damned Dracs.
We made one stop before the demonstrations would truly begin, the infirmary.
A large team of doctors waited for us, surrounding a quartet of 2 men and 2 women. Datastreams flowed through noosphere as the lead magos biologis began assessing his patients. The Free Worlds League had forwarded us the data the night before, but the magi needed firsthand data before they could safely implement rejuvenant.
To the Free Worlds League's credit, none of the selected volunteers seemed to be overly nervous during their examinations. It was there, but in smaller amounts compared to Janos' delegation. That was expected. They were undergoing an entirely revolutionary new surgery promising to reverse aging. It was completely ludicrous, flying in the face of known science. It was only pushed through with my explicit guarantee that it was real. Nervous was the least of my expectations. More importantly, there was no sign of fear or disgust.
Small hints of unease, but more towards the more extreme hints of augmentation that their cloaks couldn't cover. One of them was trying hard to not to stare at a cable emerging out of a magos' arm. Another was trying to keep his voice stable as he answered medical questions, trying not to look the magos right in their 6 mechanical eyes. Standard medical practices that transcended the cultural divide between the Mechanicus and League.
I left them and the doctors to continue their discussion. They would begin operating in the next 2 or so hours. Rejuvenant surgery was second nature to them. There wasn't a single senior left onboard the Indomitable Spirit. I was only concerned how the magos would act around the doctors. Magos were a…unique people. Capable of decent conversation, when they felt like it.
Many forgeworlds even released general language programs for general use for their more socially inept users. Even Mars did. [Even if no one above the rank of adept used them because almost no one cared about the feelings of non-important biological types.] Aside from some modifications, I only needed to set them to more respectful parameters, as if they were speaking to an astartes or close aid of a high ranking noble.
{+}Demonstration Team: All units. Standby for datapacket.{+} I idly set a small portion of my processors to integrate the data.
It was just…the typical mechancius brashness. They would have to explain the purposes of the surgery and the reasons why, without insulting or dismissing them. These were likely some of the League's best and their words will carry a great deal of weight. The Captain-General, Parliament, and the rest of the medical field will be listening. Maybe other nations.
An aid leaned slightly over to the Captain-General, not quite whispering to him. I heard it, even from over 30 feet away.
Training more consistent friendly speech patterns had taken quite a bit of time. It was impressive how many implied insults a magos could make in English with only a translator and a month of study. I terminated the memory recall before it could play. [Stay humble Malcador, the galaxy is depending on you.]
Janos walked away after giving the lead doctor a few words of encouragement. A photographer took a few short pictures of the biologis pressing a sensor against someone's chest. We'd both received the same message. The demonstrations were ready.
We both made some general statements to the teams and patients. Our confidence in their shared expertise. How we were looking forward to the results of their operations. A momentous step towards the advancement of science. Bridging the gap between our peoples through health and medicine. And then we departed.
I wonder if anyone would see the irony in our statements. Talking of health before we went to observe weapons of war. I'm sure some political science major a few centuries from now would have some snappy way of putting it.
As the Captain-General and I stepped outside, I took a moment to survey the site. The testing grounds were spacious. A large snowy field sat before the thirty or so rows of seats making up the stands. There was a large extended roof providing protection from the falling snow, freezing winds, and glaring sun. Strangely enough, despite our close exposure to the freezing outdoors, the wind or snow never turned our way. My sensors couldn't detect anything serving as climate controls beyond the heated seats and radiators keeping us warm. Was it just smart architecture and engineering? I pushed the line of thought aside as we sat down.
Oh, they had reinforced the cushioning. Some kind of artificial leather. How nice of them. Come to think of it, I did rather maim that nice looking chair back on the Olimar.
I could hear the rest of the Free Worlds League representatives take their own seats. They whispered and schemed as they divided into their own separate cliques. "As discussed, we will begin with artificial gravity." I told Janos after giving him a moment to situate himself. Outside the protection of the roof separating us from the falling snow, the 70-meter square of grav-plates sat. Groups of techpriests stood around it and the cables connecting them to the camp's power supply.
There were supposed to be 2 separate squares, but the delay gave us only enough time to completely assemble one. Janos was kind enough not to comment as the techpriests began.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus does not employ centrifugal or reaction forces to maintain gravity onboard any of our vessels." I said, as the ship grade grav-plates started to activate. "In fact, almost every room and space on board the Indomitable Spirit and the Fleet was equipped with grav-plates."
"Every room?" He questioned, just before the falling snow began to slow. Almost like the passage of time had come to a crawl. The snow almost covering the square rose as the plates pushed enough power to overcome Atreus' gravity. It initially kept falling, pushed on the momentum it had gained falling from the sky, but it quickly came to halt. The suspended snow hovered in the air, swaying with the breeze.
A FWL technician stepped towards the plates, and pushed a ball of metal in the field. It ponderously floated through the air, deeper into the field. The attending archmagos configured the plates to various gravities. The snow and metal ball rose and fell in complex patterns.
I could hear the various observers below us suppress their sounds of surprise. Did he not inform them what was being displayed today? I doubted he would keep his allies in the dark unless absolutely necessary… Were these people his political opponents or neutral observers? Humphrey's was in attendance, as well as a few people that Janos had butted heads with in the past. However, most of the audience appeared to be made up of his supporters. A drone angled its camera slightly to face the Captain-General. Janos held a polite, but impressed look on his face.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Stress. Low levels of anger. High levels of interest. Estimated Accuracy: 50%{+}
Anger? That was not ideal. But for what?
"Indeed, every room. The Adeptus Mechanicus was able to mass produce anti-gravity plates for various purposes. With enough time and resources, we can do so again." I offered, ordering a servodrone to stop before us. "Even the humble servodrone incorporates anti-gravity into its design." One drone gently floated to the two of us and slowly spun in a circle.
He carefully considered my words before responding. "I cannot comment on the various corporations and private enterprises operating within our borders, but the Free Worlds League would be more than willing to collaborate in the production anti-gravity plates." Janos cautiously answered as the demonstration continued. The grav-plates were set to a quarter of Atreus' gravitational pull, letting the snow gently descend.
Modified servo-drones quickly cleared the plates as they prepared for the next part.
"Excellent." I replied, as the demonstration continued. Archmagos Quegox configured the grav-plates for a full pulse.
He opened a small, printed copy of today's activities. Janos briefly skimmed it before his eyes locked onto a particular section. "I'm looking forward to the 'grav-weapons' coming soon. I'm curious Chief-Fabricator, their only intended use is specialized heavy fire support?"
I understood his interest. Gravity as a weapon sounded very effective. Despite its (already disclosed) high costs, a weapon that bypassed most armor systems and pulped everything inside was very appealing. Especially for the declining Houses. Perfect for killing pilots compared to more conventional means that risked significantly damaging the mech or vehicle in question.
"Yes, due to the costs of production and logistical concerns. They are effective weapons, make no mistake, but they are too complex to truly warrant mass production. By all counts, there's less than 2,000 grav-weapons across our entire armed forces."
A gust of air briefly caught both of our attention. Set to max power, the pillar of snow shot up to the sky. Techpriests and technicians quickly retreated as the heavy winds buffeted them. The resulting vacuum sucked in the air in a 30 meter radius around the plates.
Janos turned back to me as gravity was set back to 0 and my men began demonstrating zero-g maneuvers. A shame, that private had been practicing for the past 4 weeks. He even broke the platoon record almost a week ago. But I suppose it didn't matter, he had already read the itinerary for today. And that there were far more interesting examples coming.
"Barely 2,000 of them? Spread across the entirety of your armed forces?" His brow furrowed in confusion. "Across infantry, heavy weapons and vehicle mounted models?" He specified, before pausing at my confirmation. Janos didn't voice the question he and Comstar wanted to ask. How were they divided? How many of each did I have?
"That's seem remarkably low Chief-Fabricator." Janos said, unable to mask his surprise. I would be too if I didn't have so many archmagos working in unison. Many Terra based armies didn't have that many grav-weapons.
"It is, but that's the highest we can field and keep maintained." I answered. "Regardless, they are very effective at their intended role." I assured him. "It is likely grav-weapons will remain as a heavy fire support option. I assure however, that they are worth the cost."
{+}Emotion Scanner: Low levels of doubt. Heightened interest. Estimated Accuracy-50%{+} Fair enough. I could assuage him with some of the more…classified footage. That should certainly change his tune. The Ion Rex downing two Gargants was a spectacular event, but horribly overkill. Perhaps not that one. That was a secret I'd keep from them for now. Something more down to earth, believable. "Perhaps an example would help convey their effectiveness."
A hologram of a leviathan dreadnaught hovered between the two of us, before zooming onto its weapons. "This is the grav flux bombard. One of the more powerful applications of grav-tech in our arsenal." I said as the entombed Iron Warrior and its skitarri escort waded through the ruins of an Ork factory.
"I don't believe I recognize this battlemech Chief-Fabricator." And no doubt curious, since he'd been forwarded only the basic registry of knight platforms the Adeptus Mechanicus fielded.
"I would hesitate to call it a battlemech. It is far smaller than most other mechs. And it is a specialized platform, meant only for members of the Legionnes Astartes." The traveling group exited the destroyed entrance of the factory. The hologram zoomed out to a 2D view of the battlezone.
"This battle occurred during the final stages of our raids. Two Hammer companies and four regiments of Guard, supported by the Legionnes Astartes and armor assets were tasked with intercepting enemy reinforcements as we prepared the factory for destruction." Janos leaned in as he studied the map. Daytime with no cloud cover. Both sides' air support was entangled in their own battle. Very little in the way of terrain, with mostly flat fungal plains between them and the approaching ork army.
And noticeably outnumbered. The map across from them was covered in red. Their warboss had sped ahead in a ramshackle tank, unknowingly concentrating his wagh into a crushing charge.
"Legionnaire Duron successfully used his grav flux bombard to cripple the enemy spearhead." A first person POV of Duron's dreadnaught joined the overview. He expertly raked the crippling touch of his grav-weapon across the leading line of orks.
Distant squig bioforms and nobs turned into twitching balls of scrap and meat. Tanks and trukks stalled as their engines were crippled and crews mulched. Even the ground cracked and shook, ruining their stability. Their warboss emerged from his ruined tank only to collapse as his body lost all atmospheric pressure and then imploded as the forces pulled his body apart.
Janos' eyes slightly flicked to my face at the grizzly death. I pretended not to notice, leaving my biological eye remain at rest. If I didn't have cybernetics, I would have missed it entirely.
The second line of orks crashed into the first, and survivors attempting to climb over the growing mound of dead and wrecked metal found themselves quickly joining it. As the following line served to go around the roadblock, the baneblades closed in. The battlerom briefly paused as their lone stompa briefly entered view before looping.
"By the end of the battle, Duron was credited with disabling 60 enemy vehicles and eliminating over 700 enemy combatants." Janos gave the dead orks and dreadnaught one final look before dismissing it. With a polite gesture one of his men approached with a steaming cup. I don't think it was coffee. Smell could have let me know, but olfactory sensors were too delicate for my liking. Sometimes I missed having a nose.
He took a hearty swig before responding. "I can see why you're willing to field them, despite the low numbers. And logistically, they're no different than an energy weapon?"
"Correct."
Janos let out a quiet hum. He glanced back at the demonstrations. A 'Giant' was effortlessly spinning a lent jeep in the air. In a few minutes they would end with flipping an industrialmech before moving on to the grav-chutes and the few grav-vehicles I had brought with me.
"You've convinced me Chief Fabricator. I would very much like to see grav-weapons make their way to our arsenal. I have a few questions about them. How would you recommend we utilize them?" A simple enough question to start.
"On the ground, as heavy weapons disbursed across deployed forces. We've found them best used to disrupt large groups of enemies or heavily armored vehicles. Ideally with long ranged fire support." An arrangement of handheld grav-weapons replaced the map, from hand held weapons to battlemech scale.
"In space combat, only for boarding actions. The ideal weapon for destroying enemies behind walls or fortifications. Grav-weapons can easily destroy an alien aircraft with a direct hit, but they come in numbers too high to allow favorable conditions. Unfortunately, it is not useful for warship combat."
Janos let out a soft hmm'd, deep in thought.
"I read your primer on las-weapons' efficiency. I found the production tables very enlightening on how and why you intend to make them the infantry weapon. Do you have anything like that for grav-weapons?" I leaned back in thought.
A rather large shift. He'd just been not too far away from dismissing them. Did Janos take the violent demonstration as a rebuke of his dismissal? That was unintended. Fighting orks was always a brutal process. And the imperials were a violent people. Spending so much time with the imperials has changed my perceptions on violence. I'd need to readjust back to that.
The violence was supposed to be a calculated message that they were violent, but could be killed. And that they did not fear death, and what that will mean for mankind. "I do. Early drafts unfortunately." Notes and logistical plans, drafted long ago. Hypothetical plans of employing entire divisions with archeotech.
Buried as the simulations spiraled far out of what was feasible. It was theoretically possible, but the personnel and resources required would hinder more reliable aspects of the war machine. Something they'd learn soon enough. Unless some idiot cherry picked it for their own needs. I'd need to nip that in the bud before it could start.
"Nothing that through, but we do possess some documents on rapid production. Though I do warn you, they are made with the Indomitable Spirit's logistics chain in mind." I dangled the follow up to him. Janos avoided my answer in favor of pushing on.
"As it stands, I believe it would take time for us to build up the industrial chain necessary to manufacture these." I was surprised he would even admit that. It was obvious with how nations in battletech barely made new mech factories after decades, let alone for entirely new technologies. Bait for me to promise aid? I am pushing my message hard. So be it.
It'll be a sign of my dedication. We needed to build ties for this alliance. As an opening move, it was easy enough.
"You will find us quite willing to help you build them. I can have some of the weapons used today transferred to you tonight for further examination." I replied. Straight from my mouth.
Janos gave a small smile. "That would be very kind of you.
"Would you be available later this evening for further discussion on how to best form our alliance?" I asked.
"I believe so Chief-Fabricator."
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Atreus City
Capellan Embassy
Afternoon
"Have it sent, priority mail." Ambassador Zhang Lee ordered. The aid quickly nodded, before exiting his office. Today was just getting worse and worse. If it weren't for his current company, he would have taken a much deserved break. He settled for another glass of tea.
The Maskirovka agent sitting in the corner hadn't left his office for the past hour.
She seemed content to let him stew before she suddenly spoke up. "News from his Celestial Wisdom should arrive by the evening. You should have your orders then." The previously named 'Alexa' warned.
"I understand." He understood clearly. Be ready. It was about time orders should be arriving. The Adeptus Mechanicus had chosen to come when HPG delivery times were at their highest. That fact alone told him they weren't being as honest as they seemed. Something he marked in follow up report the morning after the Indomitable Spirit jumped into his once stable life and turned it inside out.
More work to add to the pile. [But how can I focus on my work when you're staring at me?] He dared to think, before quickly switching to another topic. Drinking tea can hide his emotions only so much. No, he harbored no thoughts on being anything but professional with her. His now former secretary dared to be cavalier with the women when she revealed herself, too deceived by her now discarded persona. The fool.
Where was his noteputer, he had left it, ah-'Alexa' had taken it. It was a small blessing that he stored his more...liberal activities on a secured datakey in his room. Come to think of it, he'd need to change the hiding place.
If he had known befriending that astronomer last year would lead to this, he would have stopped trying to short stocks on that FWL shipping company. Damn Kyle for spotting that dropship convoy before any of the Maskirovka did. He thought of the list of technologies Chief-Fabricator Malcador had forwarded him.
The terms were deceptively simple. Technologies that existed in the realm of fiction, in exchange for the Chancellor to make peace. Make peace! He knew exactly how his lord would react to that, and he would have to carry it out.
Tomorrow was going to be even worse. Messages sent to every House and Periphery upstart that the Adeptus Mechanicus would deliver premium technologies if they stopped fighting and to prepare for an alien invasion. Five whole dropships flying to the Atreusian north. Combined with Janos Marik and notable political allies disappearing from the public eye for today.
The Free Worlds League had made its choice.
[-----------------]
Violence on the Border. Commonwealth forces continue brutal attacks on 2 worlds while the Captain-General assumes new emergency powers. Catherine Humphreys and Speaker Steward silent…
Magistrix calls for calm as panic builds. Inside sources claim Adeptus Mechanicus Fleet was the largest seen in history. The Magistrix refused to give comment…
Primus Tiepolo issues formal apology for HPG delays. Claims HPG network undergoing "significant strain from recent events", promises full service to return soon. Read more on page three…
New Battlemechs? Stable leaders consider approaching Adeptus Mechanicus for mech parts.
No contracts on ET? Comstar requests Mercenary companies not consider contracts against "aliens" until more information can be uncovered in talks with Adeptus Mechanicus. Comstar promises to have news soon…
+++++[Chapter 5: Part 1 End]+++++
Variant (Because calling your citizens abhuman sends the wrong message) Races to be introduced:
Felinids (Homo sapien Hirsutus), Longshanks (Homo sapien elongatus), pelagor (Homo sapiens oceanus), halfing (Homo sapien minimus), nightsider (Homo sapiens) Tenebris.
Servoskull>Servodrone
Servitor>Unnamed to avoid aggravating Capellan Confederacy, and mostly erased from files
Abhuman>Variant
Ogryn>Giant
Ratling>Halfling
Imperial Guard>(The) Guard
Imperial Knight>Knight
Sisters of Battle: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
Office of the Commissiariat: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
The Inquisition: Concealed from records.
[-----------------]
February 3th, 3020
Atreus
Atreus Atmosphere
(Very) Late Evening
I returned to the Indomitable Spirit's command center shortly after Comstar's investigators left. A scan of the areas they had traveled through revealed no bugs or signs of subterfuge. Follow-up reviews of the security footage revealed none of them had tried to access restricted areas or even access any classified materials present in the labs. Nothing more than a few wandering gazes. Not even a prying question to the crew. They mainly discussed the biology of the aliens and our data.
A sign of my security at this time or was it too soon for them to start their usual routine? Maybe they would only start after they could secure reliable access to the ship? Unfortunately, I had no choice but to buy into Comstar's scheme. That had been an interesting conversation when I bought a Comstar account. Payment was handed to Representative Miles and his delegation during their visit. The Adeptus Mechanicus now has a premium Comstar subscription, paid for with solid gold melted down from the large amounts of imperial/mechanicus regalia I couldn't reasonably explain.
As tempting as avoiding the Constar's trap was, I needed access to galactic communications to form diplomatic ties, with all that entailed. I would just have to deal with ROM reading whatever messages I was sending to the houses and periphery states. I doubted whatever normal encryption methods the houses utilized would stand up to Comstar's undivided attention.
The little time I had left on the mag-rail running along the middle of the ship was spent resting. All of my attention for today had been focused on the many tests and data briefs on the orks. Representative Miles and his staff were wonderfully thorough in their investigation. Too thorough to dismiss my claims without outright lying or obstruction. Hopefully the First Circuit's inevitable nonsense will be manageable.
An Iron Warrior and the small group of skitarii standing guard remained motionless as I made my way past the primary security checkpoint before entering the bridge. If I still had my nose I would have been barraged with the smell of leftover of oil and wax. The massive control center remained as busy as ever. Converted servoskulls flew over and between passing crew, mechanicus officers tabulated data, the small number of non-augmented officers tonelessly issued their orders into the vox, and a thousand other tasks needed to maintain this vessel continued. [Perhaps I should just stick with servodrones and close the matter.] I ignored the data-streams, terminals and holograms as I approached the central dais. The acting captain had already disconnected from the Indomitable Spirit's systems and departed for their assigned post.
I quickly made my way to the command throne. Programmed mechadendrites rose from the throne, connecting various wires and cables to my body as I sat down. My cybernetic eye dimmed as I switched on the far more powerful cameras available on the ship.
A techpriest went about the process of unfastening my brain's protective armor. The adamantium plating on the back of my head opened. Clicks and whirs from connectors echoed inside my head. I turned down my audio receptors and ignored the vibrations.
A minute passed as the connection was established. Wires connected to the final ports protruding into my brain. Signals traveled to and from my bond with the Indomitable. I entered the systems of my flagship.
It was no wonder the mechanicus believed their technology was alive. Cogitators demanded data with an almost animalistic hunger. Programs compiling my thoughts and notes rapidly tabulated the comparatively small sparks of brain-activity into preliminary datasets and requests. The weapons early awaited firing solutions, waiting for designated targets. Every thought threatened to turn into something more. I began the process of wrestling the systems into order.
Soon enough, reports came in from the noopshere and my data-cables, flowing into my physical databanks and mind. I combed through the data, making notes for further review tonight before I entered a sleep cycle. Things were…fine, more or less.
All primary systems were still functional. I logged the ever-increasing demands for replacement parts and compared them to the predicted outputs and expenditures. The warp drive would need replacement parts within the next two and a half months to maintain peak efficiency. Production of minor parts would take a month from raw material to finished product. Obtaining the rare earth metals for warp drive parts without tipping off anyone would be troublesome. It would be a cold day in hell before I allowed anyone access to warp technology without my consent.
Hiding the metals amongst any purchases I make would only delay reverse engineering. While they lacked the critical knowledge on how to make the leap from raw materials to a functioning warp drive, they only needed to be lucky once. Something this universe has already done creating the K/F drive. Comstar, the Clans and Houses had all the time in the world(galaxy?) to experiment.
Latest estimates concluded there was enough fuel for 8 months of high activity. A year and 2 months if I completely rationed our supply of promethium. Construction of the most basic refueling equipment would take a month if I devoted the majority of my production capacity to it. Processing a supply of materials for promethium would be easy. I had enough STC fragments and old mechanicus plans to cobble something together when I found an ideal site. The perfect map of the Inner Sphere, Periphery and surrounding space sprang up in front of me. Almost a hundred worlds were highlighted. The resources were out there. I just needed the mining rights to legally extract it.
I would need to move up the sale of the now mostly useless artisan goods and stockpile of precious materials still in the holds. Based on the Terran and FWL commodities exchange, I had around 379.8 million Eagles or 340.2 million C-bills in precious materials, mainly gold. The money would help me buy some of the more common and less critical materials needed for the ship, but I needed more. At least for the next few months. Charity drive? No. Auction? No, something more official. I sent the matter to an imperial noble to work on it before moving on.
To my relief, that was the last major notification on our supply situation.
The Free Worlds League placed a strong, but polite request for a formal escort for the Indomitable Spirit since it was in their territory. They'd been quick to assure me they would be staying around 800 kilometers away from the ship, and only a "token" force. I cautiously granted their request. While the void shields, defensive air fleet and anti-air countermeasures were very thorough, 800 kilometers was a blink of an eye for space travel, and I had no idea what House Marik had stockpiled.
There was no news on my cybernetic appearance circulating in the news so far. The disturbingly large anti-cybernetics block in Parliament hasn't made any overt moves from what my staff could see either. And I had contacted the various ambassadors on Atreus through a minimally augmented imperial. As soon as the Captain-General and Parliament confirmed what I was offering them, they'd be hooked, controversy be damned.
Comstar was an issue, but that was unavoidable. Who knows what they would do if they thought I had deceived them with a normal human? They were already on edge. I had to rely on the raw truth to delay any instinctive backlash against me.
To my pleasant surprise, the few mechanicus researchers dedicated to energy systems had made a few small, but potentially key breakthroughs in plasma containment. They predicted that should they maintain their current pace, the archmagos could have more tangible results by the end of the decade. I'd need to have their work forwarded to a few of the other labs to accelerate their results. And snag a copy for my own review. I would have smiled if I still had the parts for it, so I had to settle for a pleased hum.
Aside from that, nothing else of importance was reported to me, leaving the oral reports.
While the various archmagos merely sent their reports over the noosphere, the augmented guard officers and civilians on my staff were still mainly unable to participate in large scale data transfer aside from manually composed datafiles. It was fine, I needed any practice I could get on actually talking with people again. And they needed further testing before I would allow them to independently interact with society.
A group of "advisors" had gone with reduced access to the noosphere for the past 4 weeks. A complete shutoff from the Command Node and only access to general noosphere functions and information. I had installed a set of implants that should hopefully help them mimic acting human again. It was time to test how they had fared since then. They entered the bridge and gathered before me.
"Report." I ordered, letting them decide for themselves. To my surprise, a Guard officer made the first move.
The first to step forward was a cadian. General Varsk had the increasingly rare trait of hailing from Cadia itself before the 13th Black Crusade shattered it, and not merely being from New Cadia or any other cadian colonies. "Chief-Fabricator. We have completed all preliminary checks on the equipment for tomorrow's demonstration. The Guard stands ready." He began in stilted english. [Acceptable pronunciation.]
There was a stiffness in his voice. Biometric scans revealed an increased heart rate. Varsk's purple eyes slightly wavered to the left and right, resisting the urge to look at his peers. I slightly looked down. His hands tensed and wavered just slightly, resisting the urge to form full fists.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Nervousness. 42% Accuracy. Slight Calm: 64% accuracy. Error detected.[+] [Facial muscles aren't completely in sync. Minute lag between body language and expressions.] Progress, but not enough.
"And the integration of the mark 3 Sigilitte Armor?" I asked.
Modifying the standard armor designated for the sisters of battle for both genders was surprisingly difficult. Sebastion Thor and the then Fabricator-General of Mars had spent considerable time and resources ensuring the suit would be as cumbersome as possible for men to satisfy the Decree Passive.
Sensors integrated into core sections of the armor, including the ridiculous chest plate. The artificial muscles and armor conformed slightly more to the female form. Speech recognition software built into the helmet that checked for hymns and speech patterns. Datakeys that locked the armor if not maintained by specialist techpriests or sanctioned members of the Imperial Cult. Even the catheter wasn't spared. Checks on checks on checks.
And then the rampant protections the mechanicus put into any advanced piece of technology they produced for the Imperium. If martian rumors were correct, even the Custodes and their own technological servants also participated in a fashion.
It was frightening, how through the Imperium could be when its constituent parts actually worked together. If it wasn't for the Votann node and having backdoor access through said mechanicus specialists, I would still be working on it.
The General relaxed, shoulders easing at the familiar topic. "Slowly, but surely sir. Colonel Myra reports that we can field 10,000 guardsmen with high proficiency in Sigillite armor." Varsk confidently answered, head held high. The remaining officers behind him gave their own subtle signs of approval.
"Truly?" I replied. That was an increase from the 9,500 last month. The former Canoness Commander now guardsman was a perfectionist before being taken. Sabrana Myra hailed from a sect that managed to survive the Great Rift due to favoring martial prowess over displays of faith. Their success had only strengthened that belief. She demanded the best in any sister placed under her command. Her strict standards had completely carried over into Battletech. Colonel Myra wouldn't approve a guardsmen if they couldn't at least outperform her sect's standard sororitas sister.
"They have met all the necessary standards set by colonel Myra. I believe by year's end they can match Hammer Division in performance."
Wonderfully high praise. And an overestimation, bordering on a lie. One we both knew. Standard guardsmen in modified sisters' armor were not an equivalent to the monsters making up the Hammer Divisions. The General knew how enhanced they were. He'd seen it during the raids. Soroitas armor was a decent piece of equipment, but it was nothing compared to the customized power armor the ogryn received.
The last trials found that the guard needed 3.21 men in sigillite armor to match a single ogryn alone, disregarding multi-tasking. And that wasn't counting their specialized support or weapons. Was he considering the elite formations also under his purview or was this cadian arrogance? Assumption their skills would only increase? Dare I say faith in his soldiers? I needed to check the general's details.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Pride. Low levels of nervousness. 35% Accuracy. Calm. Acceptance, 57% Accuracy. Error detected.{+} An unexpected jump in performance. I wanted to continue questioning him along that line of thought. What were his exact modifications…
Varsk was running a type 1 implant, and the 4th iteration…it wouldn't record his data thoughts as well as the developing type 5. I wanted to start a direct download from his augments to analyze the data, but it couldn't transmit the data and manage his faux-emotions simultaneously. Doing anything now would taint the experiment. I could initiate data recovery, but it would disable Varsk for a few days, and he might be needed for the technology demonstrations.
He slowly shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for a response. A small amount of sweat was building on his forehead. Not enough to be visible to the naked eye, but it was growing.
"I see, thank you general. Chistophos Stravos." The thoroughly rejuvenated imperial noble turned teacher stepped forward, dressed in the sturdy red robes of his new station. He wore a wig and false scalp to cover the cybernetics now taking up the back of his skull. "My Lord." He greeted me in english with only the faintest hints of an accent. "How goes teaching the final generation?" I asked the one of the few remaining imperial nobles on my ship.
Stravos had only political knowledge as the 2nd son of a planetary governor, he couldn't serve as an ambassador. He was from a recently terraformed imperial backwater in segmentum solar. His experience was not suitable for interacting with the many different cultures present in this universe, let alone the melting pot of the Free Worlds League. At best he would be a simple mouthpiece, repeating anything I was going to say. It was more politically expedient to appoint magi who I could manage through the noosphere. The cultural advantages of employing regular people just weren't attainable with the current augmentations.
With nowhere else to go, the noble joined the rest of the imperials testing for the jobs that suited them best. His results indicated he would be best used in education.
"At a suitable pace Chief-Fabricator." Stravos reported, fingers slightly drumming on the side of his dataslate. "At our current pace, the advanced classes will be ready to test into formal apprenticeships within 3 months." He claimed, forwarding me a report on his assigned classes through the noosphere. I made a mark on his assessment. Good, he remembered to give more exacting estimates. Stravos' noble upbringing taught him to use very broad terminology to avoid being liable if any of his duties went awry.
It wasn't formatted well, but that was fine, he'd kept it short at 40 pages. Their studies were slow, but steady proceeding. Imperial and Mechanicus education for shipboard menials and serfs was non-existent aside from basic numbers, concepts and anything related to their required duties.
Which for the Imperium of Man was mostly just what buttons to press and in what order. Building a comprehensive education system for a society that didn't know how any of its technology really worked was beyond patchwork. [Another mark to raid Helm sooner.] For all Warhammer 40k was normally depicting dominating other franchises in crossovers, it was teeth pulling that we didn't know how any of our technology actually worked past a certain point.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Low levels of stress. Calm.{+} Promising. No irregularities in body language. His implants were working at…86%. I paused at the readout.
That was below the expected range of activity. It should be around 88% or above. Since he wasn't assigned for combat duty, I had been able to implant more augmentations than usual. I'd personally installed Stravos' implants. There was a bevy of cybernetics that should be running.
Even though a full diagnostic check wasn't available, I could check which implants weren't running. Emotion emulation was running lower than it should have. Memory was drawing more power. Something to check later tonight.
"I am pleased you have heeded my advice Stravos. Exact measurements are much better for comprehensive reading." I told him. Would pushing him off kilter make his usage increase? I discreetly looked at the crowd of officers and officials behind him. Four more guard officers, a magos biologis, an acting captain, 2 mechanicus initiates, 6 potential diplomats, a commissar, 2 ogyrn, and 13 miscellaneous personnel.
Next time. "I look forward to seeing further improvement in your reports and work. Dismissed." I said before turning to the next in line.
"My duties are a blessing, sir." He politely remarked before returning to the crowd.
…
The rest of the reports passed. I considered the data from tonight's reports. Potentially promising with more time. One test wasn't enough to solidify the outcome, but I liked what I saw so far. Appropriate levels of body language and emotional cues. I didn't like how some of them copied from others reporting, it was a sign their emulator had come up short and was searching for local data. On the other hand, didn't people do that too? I wonder if 'reading the room' was still a phrase in this age?
"Inquisitor, Archmagos. Your thoughts." I ordered. The two old monsters came forward as the rest returned to their domiciles for rest.
Inquisitor Haal spoke first, in high gothic. {"Chief-Fabricator, they demonstrated moderate results, but I cannot approve deployment of these men and women to the coming technology demonstrations or further talks with the Free Worlds League."} I nodded in agreement, excusing the lapse back into gothic.
My personal emotion scanner used data from countless civilizations the Mechanicus interacted with, with a considerable leaning away from absolutes. I didn't know how well Comstar and the Houses biometric scanners worked. If they could read micro-expressions and biological data well enough, they could catch the same errors I had. And if they couldn't perform adequately, they couldn't be deployed. Getting caught would lead to questions. Ones I could not answer without further alienating us.
Archmagos Serallo joined the conversation. The towering archmagos' mechadendrites flexed. "Emotion emulators and mimicry programs will require further refinement. Past hypothesis of personnel selection is the only remaining course of action. Emotion Emulators remain nonviable for use of technology demonstrations. Inquisition agents necessary for the foreseeable future."
I resisted the urge to tap my claws against the arms of the throne or leak any of my annoyance to the noosphere. We had determined certain inquisitors and their agents can efficiently mimic normal behavior after the change. With a few implants to generate the needed biological activity the illusion of intelligence and free will was complete. Callidus assassins barely even needed any changes.
The only issue was I had less than two hundred of them and it only kicked the can down the road. A few hundred people among the rest of the crew showed promise, but it would take more time to train them. And it didn't solve the issue with the rest of the crew. Developing emotion modulators was intended to restore a semblance of life back into the people…if only for appearance's sake.
"Agreement." That meant some of my spies will be stuck working diplomacy for the foreseeable future. "Inquisitor, finalize the most acceptable candidates for tomorrow's technology demonstration. And keep the number low, no more than 10." I ordered, sending priority orders through the noosphere. The required supplies would be rerouted to them. This was going to become even more expensive. While Inquisitor Haal was competent, he was a creature of Terra. Apparently inquisitors that spent too much time assigned to Terra became too used to the resources routed to them. The consequences of having priority access to unlimited resources at all times.
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Atreus City
Parliament Building
Morning
"Captain-General. Priority communication call from SAFE." A secretary announced. Janos tensed from behind his desk, putting down the fascinating report on power armor. [And the day just started.] "I'll take it, transfer it to my desk."
"What's happened?" Who was it now? Parliament or the Adeptus Mechanicus? God forbid the Lyrans of Capellans had decided to act up. Maybe he'd be able to put the pending mutual defense treaty Malcador wanted to use. He'd love to knock Max or Katrina down a peg. It'd certainly get Humprey's and rest to shut up.
His emergency powers were vast, but even the potential end of the world or alien invasion couldn't make Parliament cooperate with him. Almost all of yesterday was spent negotiating with Parliament for the soft limits on his emergency authority.
"Captain-General, have you opened limited time in your schedule for meetings with members of Parliament?" SAFE Director Rebecca McParland asked.
"No, I most certainly have not Director." He coldly replied. Of course it was Parliament. It was almost depressing he still had to figure out who was it now. He suppressed the urge to sigh.
"A notice was just sent out to Parliament that you would be available for flexible meetings this morning before the Adeptus Mechanicus delegation arrives." It wasn't the most ridiculous thing he'd seen from them, not even top 10, but God now was not the time. "Who sent it?"
"A staffer received orders to distribute the email to 10 members of Parliament. They received the orders twenty minutes ago." And no doubt, the staffer was somewhat low on the hierarchy and if he looked deeper, the friend, enemy, servant, son, daughter (or some bizarre combination) of a low to mid ranking noble. Who was probably the same to another noble. All unofficially of course. Only rumors and gossip. Nothing SAFE could prove in a court of law. If they could even get the warrant.
Knock. Knock. "Captain-General. Captain-General!" That was one of Catherine's stogies. Ugh.
"Sir, the Captain-General is currently in a meeting. Please wait." That seemed to silence the man. [Thank god for small mercies.] A phone outside his office rang.
This was his third-backup office, buried deep in the depths of Parliament. He'd chosen this office and taken hidden routes in the building to avoid them. How did they know he was here? Ring. Ring. That was his personal phone, he had a message. {Captain-General-} He shut off the phone. This number was meant for his family and his few trusted contacts. Was.
"How many members of Parliament have been forwarded the message?" This was going to turn into a fiasco. And they were going to throw another tantrum after he accepted no visitors. It was going to look like he summoned them all only to abruptly dismiss them. Another chip at his "emergency powers". [So Catherine's already started.] She wouldn't let something like this happen without her consent.
"At least 30 sir, most likely half of Parliament knows by now." Director McParland stiffly replied.
A secretary slightly opened the door, handing a note to one of the guards. The guard dutifully deposited it on his desk. {Captain-General, Captain Kokleon is on the line. There's a member of Parliament trying to join the delegation to the Indomitable Spirit. They claim you're on the vessel.} The note read.
"I'll have to call you back Director. Look into the leak." He calmly grit out, trying not to show any sign of his building irritation. That would only give them a sign this stunt was actually working.
He'd read most of the extensive executive summary on the technologies and samples the Adeptus Mechanicus was going to start offering today, and he wanted it in League hands immediately.
"Understood Captain-General." Click. He gently pressed the end call button. As cathartic as slamming the phone down as hard as he can would be, it'll probably be ringing again in an hour. Most likely the Chief-Fabricator asking where the inspectors were. He let himself have a small puff of anger. Parliament wanted to play games? Fine.
Janos called the secretary in, and pointedly ignored Catherine's latest sacrificial pawn outside. "Get me Captain Kokleon and the head of security."
Someone was going to pay for this.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Hanger 3 "Heavy Loading"
Morning
They were going to be late.
"Chief-Fabricator, the Free Worlds League has not sent a revised timetable." An archmagos reported. Sensors indicated no FWL vessels had departed the primary spaceports and no currently spacefaring vessels were making way for the Indomitable Spirit. Unless Janos planned on unveiling his own teleportation technology, his delegates weren't making it in the 5 minutes left.
If the Inquisition agents and 20 or so magos making up my intelligence agency were correct, there were three primary spaceports close enough for the inspectors could leave from. One by Parliament itself, another by Atreus city and a third in the far north of the Corin continent. Unfortunately, I could only somewhat observe 1 of them.
The dropship and ASF escort now attached to the Indomitable Spirit didn't have any answers. Now what? I was already in the hanger. Heading back to the command center would take too long. I'd budgeted the entire day for time on Atreus. Knowing my luck, if I left to go do work, Janos would call me.
The minutes slowly ticked by. Nothing. Had something happened? Data flowed to me from the noosphere. No uptick in radio traffic. No panic on the news stations. No sirens.
{+}Indomitable Spirit Communications: Chief-Fabricator, incoming communication request with Free Worlds League government. Speaker Hector Steward.{+}
A modified servoskull drifted to my right and opened the connection. "Greetings Speaker Steward." I said, slightly whirring my mechanical eye. Unfortunately, the hologram wasn't accurate enough to make stable observations with my emotion scanner. He didn't seem to have any discomfort at my eye shifting.
"The Free Worlds League apologizes for the late response Chief-Fabricator. The small-craft meant to transport the inspectors had run into unexpected delays. They are currently transferring to another and will arrive within 30 minutes." Either he was lying or someone sabotaged it. I doubt a house spy could accomplish this in 2 days. Comstar. Had they made their decision? The thought filled me with dread.
There was no way the Free Worlds League would let any technical delays happen and delay the demonstrations. Without any embellishment, this was going to be one of the most important events in Free Worlds League history. The Captain-General knew this. If Parliament was even remotely informed they would want it to go forward.
I had clearly defined what was on the table in the notes sent to them right after returning from my meeting with him. There were anti-gravity plates and stasis capsules in the 1st lander. I had power armor waiting in the 2nd lander. And that was just the beginning of the demonstrations. If this deal went through, Janos would see his people jump forward centuries.
"A minor delay then. I have no significant concerns." I assured him. As tempting as it was to try and gain leverage now, the Captain-General could hold a grudge. My curiosity had revealed more on the long-lasting feud between the Captain-General and Cranston Snord. I had to pick my battles carefully.
[And to watch for treachery.]
"You have my thanks Chief-Fabricator." Steward replied, before he terminated the call.
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Early-afternoon
The inspection proceeded quickly. While the vast majority of the Landers' items needed to be surveyed for verification before we could bring them planetside, it was a formality. The Captain-General wanted these items, and the inspectors found that everything was indeed on the list aside from my own security needs.
My limited security at that. I was not blind to the choice of demonstration ground and security requirements. There were no mechs for today's demonstrations, only exotic and infantry technologies. Thus, I had no battlemech support. There were 50 skitarri and guardsmen, 20 hammer division ogyrn, 10 automatons, 3 iron warriors, a (undisclosed) repurposed assassinorum team accompanying me, and that was it. My archmagi and techpriests couldn't participate in a defense without gutting even more of the Mechanicus' slowly dwindling experts.
Camp Karpov was situated in the north of the capital, where the cold would benefit the base's battlemechs. I had anti-tank weapons, but any hypothetical engagement would end with the vast majority of my forces dead. To be completely honest, if the Indomitable Spirit wasn't only a radio call away, I might have refused it altogether.
The wonders of implied diplomacy. I held orbit. They held the ground. And as long as it worked towards our mutual benefit, it would be a stable situation. With an extended hand of trust in the form of my safety enough to push things along.
I voiced none of these concerns as we passed through the final security checkpoint in the depths of Camp Karpov.
"Greetings Captain-General Marik." I greeted the ruler of the Free Worlds League, sans mask. The various members of Parliament in attendance had managed to mostly hide their disgust of me and my delegation. However, there were fewer in attendance than I expected. Were only select leaders of Parliament allowed for such an important meeting?
"Greetings to you as well Chief-Fabricator." He replied, raising his hand to shake as the cameras flashed. I gave him a polite shake. "And a most impressive pair of guards." He remarked at the towering astartes and even taller ogryn behind me. I stood at a modest (for an imperial) 2 meters (6.6 feet), the space marine was 2.5 meters (8.2 feet) and the ogyrn was just shy of 3 meters (10 feet) in his power armor. The Captain-General had to tilt his head up to meet their gaze. To his credit, he didn't show any nerves at either one.
I turned to the two of them. The magos managing the ogryn gave the call clear over the noosphere, he was ready. "Legionnaire, Sergeant, please introduce ourselves."
With a hiss both of them unequipped their helmets. Sergeant Huck spoke first. "I am Sergeant Huck, of homo-sapiens gigantus. Also known as 'giants'." He said with all the grace (not much without replacing their vocal cords) a 'giant' can muster. Hmmm. More work would be needed fixing their accents. It was so heavy they might not have understood him.
"Legionnaire Sidero, of the Legionnes Astartes." The Iron Warrior spoke in fluent English, inclining his head towards the Captain-General.
Janos' brow quirked at the official name of 'giants'. "The Adeptus Mechanicus once experimented in creating new versions of the human genus. We simply refer to them as Variants in more casual conversation." I explained, gesturing as a servodrone came to my side. "Fascinating." Janos commented as the servodrone began displaying images of the more generally 'accepted' abhumans among the Imperium and Mechanicus' ranks. Carefully curated to paint them in a more neutral light.
{+}Archmagos Io-91: Warning. Heightened emotional response among Free Worlds guards and officials.{+} I replayed the footage in my cybernetic eye. It only took a moment for me to discover which. That was unfortunate. The Felinid and Pelagor had caused that reaction. I suppose seeing hairy cat people and blue fishmen was too much for their tolerances, even compared to the more cybernetic mechanicus.
The Captain-General's eyes turned to Legionnaire Sidero. "The Legionnes Astartes are not a variant, but rather a super-soldier program. The process inducts standard baseline humans, and transforms them to the man standing before you." I added as Huck took the opportunity to put his helmet back on and return to his position. Sidero remained at rest, helmet in hand. It was almost awkward seeing a space marine so unarmed, but there was no way an astartes would be allowed to any bring of his typical weapons this close to a House Lord.
"But that is outside the bounds of today's demonstrations." I said. It seems their dislike of modifications was going to extend to the rest of my people. What were the odds Janos had to omit the more… "opinionated" members of Parliament from greeting me? Or were only his supporters here? Neither one bode well.
As if sensing his own people's steadily growing apprehension, Janos agreed. I noted the Parliament members with more disgusted reactions. The inquisitors will need to begin assembling profiles. And a new name. Damned Dracs.
We made one stop before the demonstrations would truly begin, the infirmary.
A large team of doctors waited for us, surrounding a quartet of 2 men and 2 women. Datastreams flowed through noosphere as the lead magos biologis began assessing his patients. The Free Worlds League had forwarded us the data the night before, but the magi needed firsthand data before they could safely implement rejuvenant.
To the Free Worlds League's credit, none of the selected volunteers seemed to be overly nervous during their examinations. It was there, but in smaller amounts compared to Janos' delegation. That was expected. They were undergoing an entirely revolutionary new surgery promising to reverse aging. It was completely ludicrous, flying in the face of known science. It was only pushed through with my explicit guarantee that it was real. Nervous was the least of my expectations. More importantly, there was no sign of fear or disgust.
Small hints of unease, but more towards the more extreme hints of augmentation that their cloaks couldn't cover. One of them was trying hard to not to stare at a cable emerging out of a magos' arm. Another was trying to keep his voice stable as he answered medical questions, trying not to look the magos right in their 6 mechanical eyes. Standard medical practices that transcended the cultural divide between the Mechanicus and League.
I left them and the doctors to continue their discussion. They would begin operating in the next 2 or so hours. Rejuvenant surgery was second nature to them. There wasn't a single senior left onboard the Indomitable Spirit. I was only concerned how the magos would act around the doctors. Magos were a…unique people. Capable of decent conversation, when they felt like it.
Many forgeworlds even released general language programs for general use for their more socially inept users. Even Mars did. [Even if no one above the rank of adept used them because almost no one cared about the feelings of non-important biological types.] Aside from some modifications, I only needed to set them to more respectful parameters, as if they were speaking to an astartes or close aid of a high ranking noble.
{+}Demonstration Team: All units. Standby for datapacket.{+} I idly set a small portion of my processors to integrate the data.
It was just…the typical mechancius brashness. They would have to explain the purposes of the surgery and the reasons why, without insulting or dismissing them. These were likely some of the League's best and their words will carry a great deal of weight. The Captain-General, Parliament, and the rest of the medical field will be listening. Maybe other nations.
An aid leaned slightly over to the Captain-General, not quite whispering to him. I heard it, even from over 30 feet away.
Training more consistent friendly speech patterns had taken quite a bit of time. It was impressive how many implied insults a magos could make in English with only a translator and a month of study. I terminated the memory recall before it could play. [Stay humble Malcador, the galaxy is depending on you.]
Janos walked away after giving the lead doctor a few words of encouragement. A photographer took a few short pictures of the biologis pressing a sensor against someone's chest. We'd both received the same message. The demonstrations were ready.
We both made some general statements to the teams and patients. Our confidence in their shared expertise. How we were looking forward to the results of their operations. A momentous step towards the advancement of science. Bridging the gap between our peoples through health and medicine. And then we departed.
I wonder if anyone would see the irony in our statements. Talking of health before we went to observe weapons of war. I'm sure some political science major a few centuries from now would have some snappy way of putting it.
As the Captain-General and I stepped outside, I took a moment to survey the site. The testing grounds were spacious. A large snowy field sat before the thirty or so rows of seats making up the stands. There was a large extended roof providing protection from the falling snow, freezing winds, and glaring sun. Strangely enough, despite our close exposure to the freezing outdoors, the wind or snow never turned our way. My sensors couldn't detect anything serving as climate controls beyond the heated seats and radiators keeping us warm. Was it just smart architecture and engineering? I pushed the line of thought aside as we sat down.
Oh, they had reinforced the cushioning. Some kind of artificial leather. How nice of them. Come to think of it, I did rather maim that nice looking chair back on the Olimar.
I could hear the rest of the Free Worlds League representatives take their own seats. They whispered and schemed as they divided into their own separate cliques. "As discussed, we will begin with artificial gravity." I told Janos after giving him a moment to situate himself. Outside the protection of the roof separating us from the falling snow, the 70-meter square of grav-plates sat. Groups of techpriests stood around it and the cables connecting them to the camp's power supply.
There were supposed to be 2 separate squares, but the delay gave us only enough time to completely assemble one. Janos was kind enough not to comment as the techpriests began.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus does not employ centrifugal or reaction forces to maintain gravity onboard any of our vessels." I said, as the ship grade grav-plates started to activate. "In fact, almost every room and space on board the Indomitable Spirit and the Fleet was equipped with grav-plates."
"Every room?" He questioned, just before the falling snow began to slow. Almost like the passage of time had come to a crawl. The snow almost covering the square rose as the plates pushed enough power to overcome Atreus' gravity. It initially kept falling, pushed on the momentum it had gained falling from the sky, but it quickly came to halt. The suspended snow hovered in the air, swaying with the breeze.
A FWL technician stepped towards the plates, and pushed a ball of metal in the field. It ponderously floated through the air, deeper into the field. The attending archmagos configured the plates to various gravities. The snow and metal ball rose and fell in complex patterns.
I could hear the various observers below us suppress their sounds of surprise. Did he not inform them what was being displayed today? I doubted he would keep his allies in the dark unless absolutely necessary… Were these people his political opponents or neutral observers? Humphrey's was in attendance, as well as a few people that Janos had butted heads with in the past. However, most of the audience appeared to be made up of his supporters. A drone angled its camera slightly to face the Captain-General. Janos held a polite, but impressed look on his face.
{+}Emotion Scanner: Stress. Low levels of anger. High levels of interest. Estimated Accuracy: 50%{+}
Anger? That was not ideal. But for what?
"Indeed, every room. The Adeptus Mechanicus was able to mass produce anti-gravity plates for various purposes. With enough time and resources, we can do so again." I offered, ordering a servodrone to stop before us. "Even the humble servodrone incorporates anti-gravity into its design." One drone gently floated to the two of us and slowly spun in a circle.
He carefully considered my words before responding. "I cannot comment on the various corporations and private enterprises operating within our borders, but the Free Worlds League would be more than willing to collaborate in the production anti-gravity plates." Janos cautiously answered as the demonstration continued. The grav-plates were set to a quarter of Atreus' gravitational pull, letting the snow gently descend.
Modified servo-drones quickly cleared the plates as they prepared for the next part.
"Excellent." I replied, as the demonstration continued. Archmagos Quegox configured the grav-plates for a full pulse.
He opened a small, printed copy of today's activities. Janos briefly skimmed it before his eyes locked onto a particular section. "I'm looking forward to the 'grav-weapons' coming soon. I'm curious Chief-Fabricator, their only intended use is specialized heavy fire support?"
I understood his interest. Gravity as a weapon sounded very effective. Despite its (already disclosed) high costs, a weapon that bypassed most armor systems and pulped everything inside was very appealing. Especially for the declining Houses. Perfect for killing pilots compared to more conventional means that risked significantly damaging the mech or vehicle in question.
"Yes, due to the costs of production and logistical concerns. They are effective weapons, make no mistake, but they are too complex to truly warrant mass production. By all counts, there's less than 2,000 grav-weapons across our entire armed forces."
A gust of air briefly caught both of our attention. Set to max power, the pillar of snow shot up to the sky. Techpriests and technicians quickly retreated as the heavy winds buffeted them. The resulting vacuum sucked in the air in a 30 meter radius around the plates.
Janos turned back to me as gravity was set back to 0 and my men began demonstrating zero-g maneuvers. A shame, that private had been practicing for the past 4 weeks. He even broke the platoon record almost a week ago. But I suppose it didn't matter, he had already read the itinerary for today. And that there were far more interesting examples coming.
"Barely 2,000 of them? Spread across the entirety of your armed forces?" His brow furrowed in confusion. "Across infantry, heavy weapons and vehicle mounted models?" He specified, before pausing at my confirmation. Janos didn't voice the question he and Comstar wanted to ask. How were they divided? How many of each did I have?
"That's seem remarkably low Chief-Fabricator." Janos said, unable to mask his surprise. I would be too if I didn't have so many archmagos working in unison. Many Terra based armies didn't have that many grav-weapons.
"It is, but that's the highest we can field and keep maintained." I answered. "Regardless, they are very effective at their intended role." I assured him. "It is likely grav-weapons will remain as a heavy fire support option. I assure however, that they are worth the cost."
{+}Emotion Scanner: Low levels of doubt. Heightened interest. Estimated Accuracy-50%{+} Fair enough. I could assuage him with some of the more…classified footage. That should certainly change his tune. The Ion Rex downing two Gargants was a spectacular event, but horribly overkill. Perhaps not that one. That was a secret I'd keep from them for now. Something more down to earth, believable. "Perhaps an example would help convey their effectiveness."
A hologram of a leviathan dreadnaught hovered between the two of us, before zooming onto its weapons. "This is the grav flux bombard. One of the more powerful applications of grav-tech in our arsenal." I said as the entombed Iron Warrior and its skitarri escort waded through the ruins of an Ork factory.
"I don't believe I recognize this battlemech Chief-Fabricator." And no doubt curious, since he'd been forwarded only the basic registry of knight platforms the Adeptus Mechanicus fielded.
"I would hesitate to call it a battlemech. It is far smaller than most other mechs. And it is a specialized platform, meant only for members of the Legionnes Astartes." The traveling group exited the destroyed entrance of the factory. The hologram zoomed out to a 2D view of the battlezone.
"This battle occurred during the final stages of our raids. Two Hammer companies and four regiments of Guard, supported by the Legionnes Astartes and armor assets were tasked with intercepting enemy reinforcements as we prepared the factory for destruction." Janos leaned in as he studied the map. Daytime with no cloud cover. Both sides' air support was entangled in their own battle. Very little in the way of terrain, with mostly flat fungal plains between them and the approaching ork army.
And noticeably outnumbered. The map across from them was covered in red. Their warboss had sped ahead in a ramshackle tank, unknowingly concentrating his wagh into a crushing charge.
"Legionnaire Duron successfully used his grav flux bombard to cripple the enemy spearhead." A first person POV of Duron's dreadnaught joined the overview. He expertly raked the crippling touch of his grav-weapon across the leading line of orks.
Distant squig bioforms and nobs turned into twitching balls of scrap and meat. Tanks and trukks stalled as their engines were crippled and crews mulched. Even the ground cracked and shook, ruining their stability. Their warboss emerged from his ruined tank only to collapse as his body lost all atmospheric pressure and then imploded as the forces pulled his body apart.
Janos' eyes slightly flicked to my face at the grizzly death. I pretended not to notice, leaving my biological eye remain at rest. If I didn't have cybernetics, I would have missed it entirely.
The second line of orks crashed into the first, and survivors attempting to climb over the growing mound of dead and wrecked metal found themselves quickly joining it. As the following line served to go around the roadblock, the baneblades closed in. The battlerom briefly paused as their lone stompa briefly entered view before looping.
"By the end of the battle, Duron was credited with disabling 60 enemy vehicles and eliminating over 700 enemy combatants." Janos gave the dead orks and dreadnaught one final look before dismissing it. With a polite gesture one of his men approached with a steaming cup. I don't think it was coffee. Smell could have let me know, but olfactory sensors were too delicate for my liking. Sometimes I missed having a nose.
He took a hearty swig before responding. "I can see why you're willing to field them, despite the low numbers. And logistically, they're no different than an energy weapon?"
"Correct."
Janos let out a quiet hum. He glanced back at the demonstrations. A 'Giant' was effortlessly spinning a lent jeep in the air. In a few minutes they would end with flipping an industrialmech before moving on to the grav-chutes and the few grav-vehicles I had brought with me.
"You've convinced me Chief Fabricator. I would very much like to see grav-weapons make their way to our arsenal. I have a few questions about them. How would you recommend we utilize them?" A simple enough question to start.
"On the ground, as heavy weapons disbursed across deployed forces. We've found them best used to disrupt large groups of enemies or heavily armored vehicles. Ideally with long ranged fire support." An arrangement of handheld grav-weapons replaced the map, from hand held weapons to battlemech scale.
"In space combat, only for boarding actions. The ideal weapon for destroying enemies behind walls or fortifications. Grav-weapons can easily destroy an alien aircraft with a direct hit, but they come in numbers too high to allow favorable conditions. Unfortunately, it is not useful for warship combat."
Janos let out a soft hmm'd, deep in thought.
"I read your primer on las-weapons' efficiency. I found the production tables very enlightening on how and why you intend to make them the infantry weapon. Do you have anything like that for grav-weapons?" I leaned back in thought.
A rather large shift. He'd just been not too far away from dismissing them. Did Janos take the violent demonstration as a rebuke of his dismissal? That was unintended. Fighting orks was always a brutal process. And the imperials were a violent people. Spending so much time with the imperials has changed my perceptions on violence. I'd need to readjust back to that.
The violence was supposed to be a calculated message that they were violent, but could be killed. And that they did not fear death, and what that will mean for mankind. "I do. Early drafts unfortunately." Notes and logistical plans, drafted long ago. Hypothetical plans of employing entire divisions with archeotech.
Buried as the simulations spiraled far out of what was feasible. It was theoretically possible, but the personnel and resources required would hinder more reliable aspects of the war machine. Something they'd learn soon enough. Unless some idiot cherry picked it for their own needs. I'd need to nip that in the bud before it could start.
"Nothing that through, but we do possess some documents on rapid production. Though I do warn you, they are made with the Indomitable Spirit's logistics chain in mind." I dangled the follow up to him. Janos avoided my answer in favor of pushing on.
"As it stands, I believe it would take time for us to build up the industrial chain necessary to manufacture these." I was surprised he would even admit that. It was obvious with how nations in battletech barely made new mech factories after decades, let alone for entirely new technologies. Bait for me to promise aid? I am pushing my message hard. So be it.
It'll be a sign of my dedication. We needed to build ties for this alliance. As an opening move, it was easy enough.
"You will find us quite willing to help you build them. I can have some of the weapons used today transferred to you tonight for further examination." I replied. Straight from my mouth.
Janos gave a small smile. "That would be very kind of you.
"Would you be available later this evening for further discussion on how to best form our alliance?" I asked.
"I believe so Chief-Fabricator."
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Atreus City
Capellan Embassy
Afternoon
"Have it sent, priority mail." Ambassador Zhang Lee ordered. The aid quickly nodded, before exiting his office. Today was just getting worse and worse. If it weren't for his current company, he would have taken a much deserved break. He settled for another glass of tea.
The Maskirovka agent sitting in the corner hadn't left his office for the past hour.
She seemed content to let him stew before she suddenly spoke up. "News from his Celestial Wisdom should arrive by the evening. You should have your orders then." The previously named 'Alexa' warned.
"I understand." He understood clearly. Be ready. It was about time orders should be arriving. The Adeptus Mechanicus had chosen to come when HPG delivery times were at their highest. That fact alone told him they weren't being as honest as they seemed. Something he marked in follow up report the morning after the Indomitable Spirit jumped into his once stable life and turned it inside out.
More work to add to the pile. [But how can I focus on my work when you're staring at me?] He dared to think, before quickly switching to another topic. Drinking tea can hide his emotions only so much. No, he harbored no thoughts on being anything but professional with her. His now former secretary dared to be cavalier with the women when she revealed herself, too deceived by her now discarded persona. The fool.
Where was his noteputer, he had left it, ah-'Alexa' had taken it. It was a small blessing that he stored his more...liberal activities on a secured datakey in his room. Come to think of it, he'd need to change the hiding place.
If he had known befriending that astronomer last year would lead to this, he would have stopped trying to short stocks on that FWL shipping company. Damn Kyle for spotting that dropship convoy before any of the Maskirovka did. He thought of the list of technologies Chief-Fabricator Malcador had forwarded him.
The terms were deceptively simple. Technologies that existed in the realm of fiction, in exchange for the Chancellor to make peace. Make peace! He knew exactly how his lord would react to that, and he would have to carry it out.
Tomorrow was going to be even worse. Messages sent to every House and Periphery upstart that the Adeptus Mechanicus would deliver premium technologies if they stopped fighting and to prepare for an alien invasion. Five whole dropships flying to the Atreusian north. Combined with Janos Marik and notable political allies disappearing from the public eye for today.
The Free Worlds League had made its choice.
[-----------------]
Violence on the Border. Commonwealth forces continue brutal attacks on 2 worlds while the Captain-General assumes new emergency powers. Catherine Humphreys and Speaker Steward silent…
-Free Press News, Atreus Office
Magistrix calls for calm as panic builds. Inside sources claim Adeptus Mechanicus Fleet was the largest seen in history. The Magistrix refused to give comment…
-Magistry Crier
Primus Tiepolo issues formal apology for HPG delays. Claims HPG network undergoing "significant strain from recent events", promises full service to return soon. Read more on page three…
-Taurus Announcer
New Battlemechs? Stable leaders consider approaching Adeptus Mechanicus for mech parts.
-Solaris Rumbler
No contracts on ET? Comstar requests Mercenary companies not consider contracts against "aliens" until more information can be uncovered in talks with Adeptus Mechanicus. Comstar promises to have news soon…
-Outreach Times
+++++[Chapter 5: Part 1 End]+++++
Variant (Because calling your citizens abhuman sends the wrong message) Races to be introduced:
Felinids (Homo sapien Hirsutus), Longshanks (Homo sapien elongatus), pelagor (Homo sapiens oceanus), halfing (Homo sapien minimus), nightsider (Homo sapiens) Tenebris.
- Felinind: Cat People. Going with the hairy people interpretation.
- Longshank: Very long legs and thin bodied, entirely bald, and feature "very pronounced eyes".
- Pelagor: Large, almost Ogyrn sized. Possess visible scales and gills.
- Ratling (Now called Halfling): Abnormally short. Known for hedonistic behavior. Unclear if it is genetic disposition imperial culture.
- Nightsider: Similar physicality to baseline humans, but commonly possess strange physical attributes.
Mk 1 Vandire Pattern: The original custom power armor Goge Vandire gifted his Brides of the Emperor Bodyguards
Mk 2 Thor Pattern: Modified set commissioned by Sebastion Thor for mass production and adherence to the Decree Passive. Mainline Sister of Battle armor from reformation of the Imperial Church to modern day 40k.
Mk 3 Sigillite Armor: Unisex armor developed in the universe of Battletech.
Art made by @graffitisoul on twitter.
The Mk 3 Sigillite armor currently exists as a modification to SoB armor instead of a completely new armor due to lack of production data and numerous built-in obstructions. It is currently more effective to mass produce standard sets of sororitas armor and then modify them than to build the new variant from the ground up.
While there are other patterns of mass producible power armor in the Imperium and Mechanicus, none have the data from millennia of production and use compared to the sisters of battle's signature armor. Developing a new unisex mass producible variant will take an estimated 4 years to truly develop. While different in intended role, the Adeptus Mechanicus seek Elemental power armor data alongside the Helm core to expedite the process.
"The boob-plate must go. And the corset decorations around the waist. I understand it is to one of the few remaining marks of Goge Vandire's reign, highlights their femininity and adherence to the Decree Passive, but the Adeptus Mechanicus cannot field equipment with this kind of appearance. Am I understood?"
-Chief-Fabricator Malcador to Archmagos team 1076.
{+}Compliance. Unknown English vocabulary detected. Define "Boobplate".{+}
-Team Lead Mau'tova:
There is no mention that the SoB armor is majorly different from the armor Goge Vandire gifted his brides of the Emperor body guards, and I will assume some modifications were made to comply with the decree passive.
Mk 2 Thor Pattern: Modified set commissioned by Sebastion Thor for mass production and adherence to the Decree Passive. Mainline Sister of Battle armor from reformation of the Imperial Church to modern day 40k.
Mk 3 Sigillite Armor: Unisex armor developed in the universe of Battletech.
Art made by @graffitisoul on twitter.
The Mk 3 Sigillite armor currently exists as a modification to SoB armor instead of a completely new armor due to lack of production data and numerous built-in obstructions. It is currently more effective to mass produce standard sets of sororitas armor and then modify them than to build the new variant from the ground up.
While there are other patterns of mass producible power armor in the Imperium and Mechanicus, none have the data from millennia of production and use compared to the sisters of battle's signature armor. Developing a new unisex mass producible variant will take an estimated 4 years to truly develop. While different in intended role, the Adeptus Mechanicus seek Elemental power armor data alongside the Helm core to expedite the process.
"The boob-plate must go. And the corset decorations around the waist. I understand it is to one of the few remaining marks of Goge Vandire's reign, highlights their femininity and adherence to the Decree Passive, but the Adeptus Mechanicus cannot field equipment with this kind of appearance. Am I understood?"
-Chief-Fabricator Malcador to Archmagos team 1076.
{+}Compliance. Unknown English vocabulary detected. Define "Boobplate".{+}
-Team Lead Mau'tova:
There is no mention that the SoB armor is majorly different from the armor Goge Vandire gifted his brides of the Emperor body guards, and I will assume some modifications were made to comply with the decree passive.
Sidestory: Representative Miles of ROM (Pre-Chapter 5)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
+++++++++++++++
February 4, 3020
Atreus HPG
[Classified] Office
Mid-Morning
Stephen Miles glanced at the clock. Only 15 minutes for his break. Well, what passed for one. He couldn't remember Atreus' ROM office ever being so busy. Anton Marik's revolt against his brother was marginally close, but the Order had prepared for it. It was a rushed, but controlled situation. They had plans, contingencies that could be modified for any unseen complications. Millions of C-bills and countless hours had been spent preparing for any outcome, from the collapse of a House to a rising Periphery Star League.
There were no procedures or theoretical considerations for potential alien invasions or super civilizations coming to the Inner Sphere. He had checked with his new heightened clearance. The galaxy seemed so much bigger now.
He took out a simple ration bar from his desk. The only way he could justify a break this long was to focus on other aspects of his work. Information was power, and the blessed order worked tirelessly to embody the phrase. The Mechanicus had changed that. For the first time in memory, Comstar was completely unaware. There was no warning, no way to have predicted this.
If he couldn't focus during his breaks, then he may as well do something else. He reached for a notepad and pen as mechanicus battlerom played.
A handful of surviving cameras watched as aliens charged down damaged hallways, crude weapons in hand. They were so tightly packed that they pushed and fought each other for space, roaring in their unknown language. He still couldn't help but notice how primitive they looked. It was too difficult to reconcile the idea of space-capable aliens with primitive savages. He wondered what they were screaming. The Mechanicus was still unable to translate their language.
["WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!"]
The screaming horde rampaged through the ship, trampling everything in their path. Fallen fighters, alien and Mechanicus, disappeared under their boots, reappearing as almost recognizable flattened lumps of meat and crumpled metal. By Blake, some of them were barefoot. Alarms blared overhead. They seemed to fire randomly ahead. Crude swords and pieces of sharpened metal were swung without any care.
At their head was an even more enormous alien. It was in some sort of primitive power armor. An impaled Mechanicus soldier sat on the alien's back, a spike running through their hips and emerging out the shoulder. The limbless corpse oozed blood and fluids as it shook from the giant's clumsy run. Their head snapped back and forth as the alien ran. Broken defensive emplacements offered no resistance as they passed, defenders dead at their stations.
They finally approached their goal. An open space. They shouted again, weapons raised.
["ERE WE GO! ERE WE GO!"]
The camera switched to the killzone.
Stacks of overturned crates. Sheets of quickly welded metal. Wrecked vehicles. Anything possible was repurposed for ad hoc cover. There were lines of augmented soldiers, wielding strange archaic looking weapons. Men more machine than flesh dominated their number. Red-hooded monsters wielding a dizzying array of weapons and invasive augmentations. At their densest, it was hard to tell where one ended and another started.
Small packs of normal men and women in sealed green armor were scattered through the defenders, holding more conventional looking weapons. A towering tank bearing two rotaries sat at the center of the formation. "Stormlord" superheavy tank, the record claimed. Their leader was a giant in grey armor. An "astartes" super-soldier, a sergeant, by the name of Alcaeus. Ugly black and yellow hazard stripes were painted on their knees and left shoulder. Weapons were strapped over any conceivable point on their armor. It loomed over them, completely still.
["WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHH!"]
Screaming aliens flooded into the room, wildly firing their weapons. The mechaanicus quickly returned fire.
The flash of so much weapons blinded the camera. As it compensated, he could make out the tank firing in bursts. A withering hail of bright projectiles that buried the horde. The silver giant, an "astartes" fired his sidearm, sending bright blue bolts into the hallway.
Sensors revealed that there were many more. Without any care they threw themselves into the chokepoint. There was a brief moment where they stopped. A click back to the hallway camera. Four large aliens were arguing far from the entrance. The largest of them slammed a clawed fist onto the head of another, killing it instantly. Its corpse collapsed and the other two stopped yelling. It gestured with an arm, yelled to the crowd behind it, and they charged.
Aside from that small reprieve, there was no break. No second wave. Just a continuous stream of enemies. It almost frightened him, how they didn't care for injury or death. A kill counter climbed. Fifty. Three hundred. Six hundred. One thousand. On and on it went.
Over two thousand aliens died before the attack ended.
A mechanicus commander called an all clear, and the weapons fire stopped. They waited for the smoke obscuring the entrance fade away. It took a while. They frantically reloaded the stormlord for the 4th time.
Blood, gore and ash coated the floor. Reduced to so much shredded and cooking meat. The entry had expended from so much weapons fire. It had almost doubled its size. He fast forwarded the battlerrom, as they made frantic repairs to their defenses and tended to the wounded.
Then came the next wave, even bigger than the last.
An alien hefting some sort of ramshackle 6 barreled SRM fired before it was torn apart by accurate laser fire. The missiles all struck along the line. With a cheer the aliens took advantage of the disruption and closed in. Return fire quickly resumed, but the damage was done.
The stormlord continued firing, sacrificing its remaining ammo to hold the entrance. He absently noted the time stamp. Omega would probably want more details on mechanicus weapons and this was wonderful footage of the tank under extreme pressure.
They charged forward, getting closer and closer to the defensive line. The chokepoint had been lost. Now the mechanicus fought to claw back the advantage. More menacing and quite frankly frightening creatures appeared. Brutal and hulking beasts that ignored all but the most devastating wounds. Towering armored aliens became more frequent. Their presence seemed to invigorate their lesser kin.
He skipped forward.
Twenty agonizing minutes passed before their stockpile of ammo for stormlord ran out. They kept coming, still screaming. Casualties started to mount. Even if the aliens seemed to not care in the slightest about accuracy, they were bound to get lucky. Their cover slowly disappeared. Energy shields burst from oversized projectiles. Shots cut down unaugmented soldiers. Even the towered red robed 'magos' began to fall, one by one.
To their credit. The mechanicus didn't break. They held with suicidal stubbornness. Alcaeus moved to the front of the line, carrying a shield as tall as he was. Three men hauled a massive cannon to him. It fired a green stream of lightning, and the aliens seemed to contort and collapse as it passed over them. What was that? He checked the notes. A gravity gun? How do you launch gravity? The second attack ended.
["WAAAAAAAGGGGHH!!!!!!"]
And then came another. Five minutes after the last.
The gap kept closing, until they were almost in melee combat. A flick of the keys, he pulled up the diagram of the immediate battlezone. Were these men even fighting for an objective or were they forgotten?
They were. Their orders had them buying time for the evacuation of agriculture equipment and existing food supplies. Attached comments reported Mechancius command had estimated enough for 30,000 people. Equipment to feed hundreds of thousands with enough time and supplies.
The aliens had tried something else this time. They had…teleported into their positions. In a bright green flash-an entire mob had appeared behind and in the defensive line. A giant brute fully concealed in crude armor bellowed as its crude hammer pulped a man.
["-DA BEEEEEEG JUMMMMP!! WAAGHAHAHAHAHA! YOU'Z IN FOR'A ROIT SMASHIN'!!"]
The mechanicus and aliens engaged in brutal melee. They drew swords, axes, and gauntlets that arced with blue light. One colossal mechanicus soldier began shooting actual lightning out of their hands. Gouts of fire spat from flame throwers from both sides.
[I LOIKEZ YOUR CHOPPA GIT! IT'Z MINE NOW!!]
Sergeant Alcaeus quickly fell, swarmed on all sides. His towering height drew no small amount of attention. The alien leader reached down and crushed his head in a flash for gore. His corpse fell like a tree as it slammed onto the floor. The alien grabbed his sword and promptly used it on a charging mechanicus soldier.
Reinforcements arrived. Soldiers in green power armor, with black shoulder capes and tabards. The mechanicus called it the mk. 3 Sigillite armor. They held massive weapons, taking full advantage of their enhanced strength. Flamethrowers, hulking guns and oversized melee weapons. They were still outnumbered, easily 4 to 1. The grisly carnage ground down sides.
Beyond all odds, the mechanicus defenders won. Bodies carpeted the floor. Green spores littered the air.
A change in objective. Fight. They had lost control of the area behind them. It was only a matter of time before they found the route to the entrance behind them. The supplies had been lost, along with their designated evacuation ship. There were none available close enough for them to escape.
One final attack. Short alien mechs began emerging from behind them. Another horde came through the lost chokepoint. Their reinforcements were exhausted fending off the last attack. It was a massacre.
The wounded and incapacitated were executed, seemingly for no other reason than sport and…consumption. No prisoners were taken. He was almost glad there was no sound attached to this part of the BattleRom. One mechanicus soldier armed a strange metal cylinder as they closed in. A foreign word, [PHOSPHEX] was emblazoned on the side.
He switched to another BattleRom as the green fireball engulfed them all. The beginning of the end for the spacebattle.
The Destiny Ascension's main cannon fired. A beam of pure white cut across the void. Alien ships died by the score, wiped out as the light engulfed them. Shells of melted slag reemerged from the attack. The beam finally stopped as it carved another line into Behemoth's ruined maw. In retaliation, the alien fleet returned fire. Energy and kinetic projectiles raced across the void. The mechanicus fleet shook as their titanic bulk finally caved. Alien vessels hid behind the shattered wrecks of other vessels as they closed in. After 10 long hours, the defensive cordon broke.
The Sigillite's shields finally gave out. A direct strike on its rear blew its engines in a massive explosion, sending the ship into a lethal spin towards Mars' Providence, which had come alongside the Sigillite to aid its evacuation. Secondary thrusters across the Sigillite fired to no avail. Explosions slowly began to trail up and down the doomed vessel. Breaches in the hull spewed debris, short-lived fires and people. Point defenses and weapons emplacements desperately continued fighting, even as the ship came apart. Evacuation craft and escape pods ceased to exist as the ship slowly swung through them, tens of trillions of tons annihilating everything in its wake. A timer appeared on the corner of the screen, sixty seconds until collision. Estimated losses sat below the timer, waiting for him to select it.
A trio of mechanicus "lander" dropships frantically poured more power to their engines to escape, unknowingly entering an alien warship's path. It was a wreck, barely surviving the fire coming from the mechanicus fleet before it finally breached the protective cordon. The doomed dropships exploded as it rammed through them, heading straight towards the Destiny Ascension. Cadia changed course from covering the Will of the Omnissiah to meet the threat. Torpedoes were launched towards the rapidly approaching vessel.
Dozens of mechanicus AFS abandoned the dogfight for dominance and made way for the intruder. The Destiny Ascension began to turn.
Mars' Providence activated its shields. Small explosions sparked across its length as evacuation craft collided with the reactivated barrier. His heart clenched at those death. So close to safety...
Nuclear fire bathed the alien ship. The irradiated hulk continued its course. Mars' Providence's shield flickered in vain as the Sigillitte collided. Solid "adamantium" armor hundreds of meters thick shattered from the force. Alien fighters began shooting down the helpless escapees.
He completely closed the BattleROM and looked down. Very little had been added to his notes beyond cursory insights and timestamps.
…
A nation that could have effortlessly conquered the Inner Sphere died. That most likely could crush the SLDF with ease. He picked up a report, mainly of his own notes and stolen data from the Free Worlds League.
Ark Akasha
Ark Magnus
Cadia
Cradle
Destiny Ascension
Eternal Quest
Forerunner
Invincible Creed
Iron Hand
Mars' Providence
Olympian Covenant
Perennial Harvest
Revelation of Recovery
Sigillite
Silica's Bane
Vulkan's Ambition
Victorious Faith
Vigilant Spark
Will of the Omnissiah
Most of these vessels could have ruined if not ended a House by themselves. Most likely the Blessed Order as well. Malcador's almost casual summary and dismissal of the SLDF had not gone unnoticed. They ended their observations of the greatest military in the Inner Sphere in favor of looking for aliens for over twenty years. It was telling. That they weren't considered a threat. Manageable. And what that implied about their stance towards Comstar.
Now they were gone…so much scrap in the void. Salvage in extraterrestrial hands.
Destroyed. Murdered. An entire civilization dead in a single day. Tens of millions dead. A death toll not seen since the Second Succession War. Anyone that had survived the destruction of their fleet would be drifting in space, abandoned to the aliens or uncaring void of space. So few managed to escape in the end.
Only the Indomitable Spirit survived.
The impaled soldier's head snapped back and forth as the horde charged to their deaths. Astartes Alcaeus died as the claw closed around his head. Helpless as the crowd mauled his body. The last stand of over a thousand men and women, trying to feed their people. Countless battles just like it raging across the fleet.
Forerunner died before the battle could begin, its warp jump seized by Behemoth into its crushing maw. Countless evacuation craft died by the score as the Sigillite swung through the void. Destiny Ascension, the Mechanicus' flagship, drowned under the weight of boarding pods. Eternal Quest, unable to escape, chose to sacrifice itself, blocking 20 ships so the Indomitable Spirit could escape the cordon.
The Ark Akasaha had strained its warp engines from jumping into and out of the cordon. Unable to jump to the rally point at systems edge before the Destiny Ascension self-destructed. Victorious Faith's warp drive malfunctioned, sending almost the entire ship into oblivion. The record stated that the ship was "consigned to the immaterium", and was lost with all hands.
Cradle. A safeguard, the notes had mourned. One final contingency, for the young, old and priceless technologies to escape if the aliens were hostile. Oh how right they were.
Teleported into Behemoth's crushing maw when it attempted to warp jump away, joining the dying Forerunner and Vigilant Spark. Frantic battles to destroy the invaders without damaging their ship. Entire regiments marched into Behemoth in doomed suicide missions in an attempt to release the ships. Hallways of blood and gore. A sanctuary turned charnel house.
The freshly born alien attempted to murder adept Jack, who had taken a step back as the ceiling mounted arms quickly lunged down, grabbing the roaring beast. The hundreds of towering guards in power armor no longer seemed as redundant. He had later handled a standard set of the restraints meant for larger specimens. All four restraints were heavy enough to pin a man with their weight alone. The aliens in their cells didn't seem to notice them. He knew then, Adept Jack would have been torn apart in an instant.
The only reason he had access to footage battlerom of the spacebattle itself was its relevance to his assigned task to learn about the Adeptus Mechanicus. His purpose was to observe them and begin relations. Others in the office were ordered to observe the planetside raids. While ROM practiced compartmentalization, small leaks were inevitable. He could see it. In the growing signs of stress and apprehension amongst his colleagues. What had they seen analyzing the ground battles the Adeptus Mechanicus held to gather information and proof before their arrival?
If the mechanicus was truthful, they were in dire straits. He didn't dare voice it in his report. That mankind was too weak. Divided. The implied solutions required. A great deal of work and time would be needed to mend the ties. Time they may not have. Decisions and judgements of that magnitude fell far beyond his purview. Only the First Circuit could dictate policy on such a scale. His superiors had begun to word it in a far more digestible way, to banish doubts like these.
He knew others in ROM that would not be so accepting of these explanations. The core pillar of their work was threatened. Comstar's faith was a dangerous beast at times and he was unsure how it would respond to this challenge. Precentors Avalon and Tharkad would vehemently oppose doubts, any doubts, to the Order's work. What would the normally neutral Precentor Atreus do, now empowered in light of this crisis? And that was only the near future. No doubt the First Circuit had seen the coming times and begun their games.
What chaotic changes lurked in the decades to come? ROM agent Stephen Miles was reminded of Malcador's prediction of the war.
"I suspect this war will have a horrible habit of surprising us."
+++++++++++
February 4, 3020
Atreus HPG
[Classified] Office
Mid-Morning
Stephen Miles glanced at the clock. Only 15 minutes for his break. Well, what passed for one. He couldn't remember Atreus' ROM office ever being so busy. Anton Marik's revolt against his brother was marginally close, but the Order had prepared for it. It was a rushed, but controlled situation. They had plans, contingencies that could be modified for any unseen complications. Millions of C-bills and countless hours had been spent preparing for any outcome, from the collapse of a House to a rising Periphery Star League.
There were no procedures or theoretical considerations for potential alien invasions or super civilizations coming to the Inner Sphere. He had checked with his new heightened clearance. The galaxy seemed so much bigger now.
He took out a simple ration bar from his desk. The only way he could justify a break this long was to focus on other aspects of his work. Information was power, and the blessed order worked tirelessly to embody the phrase. The Mechanicus had changed that. For the first time in memory, Comstar was completely unaware. There was no warning, no way to have predicted this.
If he couldn't focus during his breaks, then he may as well do something else. He reached for a notepad and pen as mechanicus battlerom played.
A handful of surviving cameras watched as aliens charged down damaged hallways, crude weapons in hand. They were so tightly packed that they pushed and fought each other for space, roaring in their unknown language. He still couldn't help but notice how primitive they looked. It was too difficult to reconcile the idea of space-capable aliens with primitive savages. He wondered what they were screaming. The Mechanicus was still unable to translate their language.
["WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!"]
The screaming horde rampaged through the ship, trampling everything in their path. Fallen fighters, alien and Mechanicus, disappeared under their boots, reappearing as almost recognizable flattened lumps of meat and crumpled metal. By Blake, some of them were barefoot. Alarms blared overhead. They seemed to fire randomly ahead. Crude swords and pieces of sharpened metal were swung without any care.
At their head was an even more enormous alien. It was in some sort of primitive power armor. An impaled Mechanicus soldier sat on the alien's back, a spike running through their hips and emerging out the shoulder. The limbless corpse oozed blood and fluids as it shook from the giant's clumsy run. Their head snapped back and forth as the alien ran. Broken defensive emplacements offered no resistance as they passed, defenders dead at their stations.
They finally approached their goal. An open space. They shouted again, weapons raised.
["ERE WE GO! ERE WE GO!"]
The camera switched to the killzone.
Stacks of overturned crates. Sheets of quickly welded metal. Wrecked vehicles. Anything possible was repurposed for ad hoc cover. There were lines of augmented soldiers, wielding strange archaic looking weapons. Men more machine than flesh dominated their number. Red-hooded monsters wielding a dizzying array of weapons and invasive augmentations. At their densest, it was hard to tell where one ended and another started.
Small packs of normal men and women in sealed green armor were scattered through the defenders, holding more conventional looking weapons. A towering tank bearing two rotaries sat at the center of the formation. "Stormlord" superheavy tank, the record claimed. Their leader was a giant in grey armor. An "astartes" super-soldier, a sergeant, by the name of Alcaeus. Ugly black and yellow hazard stripes were painted on their knees and left shoulder. Weapons were strapped over any conceivable point on their armor. It loomed over them, completely still.
["WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHH!"]
Screaming aliens flooded into the room, wildly firing their weapons. The mechaanicus quickly returned fire.
The flash of so much weapons blinded the camera. As it compensated, he could make out the tank firing in bursts. A withering hail of bright projectiles that buried the horde. The silver giant, an "astartes" fired his sidearm, sending bright blue bolts into the hallway.
Sensors revealed that there were many more. Without any care they threw themselves into the chokepoint. There was a brief moment where they stopped. A click back to the hallway camera. Four large aliens were arguing far from the entrance. The largest of them slammed a clawed fist onto the head of another, killing it instantly. Its corpse collapsed and the other two stopped yelling. It gestured with an arm, yelled to the crowd behind it, and they charged.
Aside from that small reprieve, there was no break. No second wave. Just a continuous stream of enemies. It almost frightened him, how they didn't care for injury or death. A kill counter climbed. Fifty. Three hundred. Six hundred. One thousand. On and on it went.
Over two thousand aliens died before the attack ended.
A mechanicus commander called an all clear, and the weapons fire stopped. They waited for the smoke obscuring the entrance fade away. It took a while. They frantically reloaded the stormlord for the 4th time.
Blood, gore and ash coated the floor. Reduced to so much shredded and cooking meat. The entry had expended from so much weapons fire. It had almost doubled its size. He fast forwarded the battlerrom, as they made frantic repairs to their defenses and tended to the wounded.
Then came the next wave, even bigger than the last.
An alien hefting some sort of ramshackle 6 barreled SRM fired before it was torn apart by accurate laser fire. The missiles all struck along the line. With a cheer the aliens took advantage of the disruption and closed in. Return fire quickly resumed, but the damage was done.
The stormlord continued firing, sacrificing its remaining ammo to hold the entrance. He absently noted the time stamp. Omega would probably want more details on mechanicus weapons and this was wonderful footage of the tank under extreme pressure.
They charged forward, getting closer and closer to the defensive line. The chokepoint had been lost. Now the mechanicus fought to claw back the advantage. More menacing and quite frankly frightening creatures appeared. Brutal and hulking beasts that ignored all but the most devastating wounds. Towering armored aliens became more frequent. Their presence seemed to invigorate their lesser kin.
He skipped forward.
Twenty agonizing minutes passed before their stockpile of ammo for stormlord ran out. They kept coming, still screaming. Casualties started to mount. Even if the aliens seemed to not care in the slightest about accuracy, they were bound to get lucky. Their cover slowly disappeared. Energy shields burst from oversized projectiles. Shots cut down unaugmented soldiers. Even the towered red robed 'magos' began to fall, one by one.
To their credit. The mechanicus didn't break. They held with suicidal stubbornness. Alcaeus moved to the front of the line, carrying a shield as tall as he was. Three men hauled a massive cannon to him. It fired a green stream of lightning, and the aliens seemed to contort and collapse as it passed over them. What was that? He checked the notes. A gravity gun? How do you launch gravity? The second attack ended.
["WAAAAAAAGGGGHH!!!!!!"]
And then came another. Five minutes after the last.
The gap kept closing, until they were almost in melee combat. A flick of the keys, he pulled up the diagram of the immediate battlezone. Were these men even fighting for an objective or were they forgotten?
They were. Their orders had them buying time for the evacuation of agriculture equipment and existing food supplies. Attached comments reported Mechancius command had estimated enough for 30,000 people. Equipment to feed hundreds of thousands with enough time and supplies.
The aliens had tried something else this time. They had…teleported into their positions. In a bright green flash-an entire mob had appeared behind and in the defensive line. A giant brute fully concealed in crude armor bellowed as its crude hammer pulped a man.
["-DA BEEEEEEG JUMMMMP!! WAAGHAHAHAHAHA! YOU'Z IN FOR'A ROIT SMASHIN'!!"]
The mechanicus and aliens engaged in brutal melee. They drew swords, axes, and gauntlets that arced with blue light. One colossal mechanicus soldier began shooting actual lightning out of their hands. Gouts of fire spat from flame throwers from both sides.
[I LOIKEZ YOUR CHOPPA GIT! IT'Z MINE NOW!!]
Sergeant Alcaeus quickly fell, swarmed on all sides. His towering height drew no small amount of attention. The alien leader reached down and crushed his head in a flash for gore. His corpse fell like a tree as it slammed onto the floor. The alien grabbed his sword and promptly used it on a charging mechanicus soldier.
Reinforcements arrived. Soldiers in green power armor, with black shoulder capes and tabards. The mechanicus called it the mk. 3 Sigillite armor. They held massive weapons, taking full advantage of their enhanced strength. Flamethrowers, hulking guns and oversized melee weapons. They were still outnumbered, easily 4 to 1. The grisly carnage ground down sides.
Beyond all odds, the mechanicus defenders won. Bodies carpeted the floor. Green spores littered the air.
A change in objective. Fight. They had lost control of the area behind them. It was only a matter of time before they found the route to the entrance behind them. The supplies had been lost, along with their designated evacuation ship. There were none available close enough for them to escape.
One final attack. Short alien mechs began emerging from behind them. Another horde came through the lost chokepoint. Their reinforcements were exhausted fending off the last attack. It was a massacre.
The wounded and incapacitated were executed, seemingly for no other reason than sport and…consumption. No prisoners were taken. He was almost glad there was no sound attached to this part of the BattleRom. One mechanicus soldier armed a strange metal cylinder as they closed in. A foreign word, [PHOSPHEX] was emblazoned on the side.
He switched to another BattleRom as the green fireball engulfed them all. The beginning of the end for the spacebattle.
The Destiny Ascension's main cannon fired. A beam of pure white cut across the void. Alien ships died by the score, wiped out as the light engulfed them. Shells of melted slag reemerged from the attack. The beam finally stopped as it carved another line into Behemoth's ruined maw. In retaliation, the alien fleet returned fire. Energy and kinetic projectiles raced across the void. The mechanicus fleet shook as their titanic bulk finally caved. Alien vessels hid behind the shattered wrecks of other vessels as they closed in. After 10 long hours, the defensive cordon broke.
The Sigillite's shields finally gave out. A direct strike on its rear blew its engines in a massive explosion, sending the ship into a lethal spin towards Mars' Providence, which had come alongside the Sigillite to aid its evacuation. Secondary thrusters across the Sigillite fired to no avail. Explosions slowly began to trail up and down the doomed vessel. Breaches in the hull spewed debris, short-lived fires and people. Point defenses and weapons emplacements desperately continued fighting, even as the ship came apart. Evacuation craft and escape pods ceased to exist as the ship slowly swung through them, tens of trillions of tons annihilating everything in its wake. A timer appeared on the corner of the screen, sixty seconds until collision. Estimated losses sat below the timer, waiting for him to select it.
A trio of mechanicus "lander" dropships frantically poured more power to their engines to escape, unknowingly entering an alien warship's path. It was a wreck, barely surviving the fire coming from the mechanicus fleet before it finally breached the protective cordon. The doomed dropships exploded as it rammed through them, heading straight towards the Destiny Ascension. Cadia changed course from covering the Will of the Omnissiah to meet the threat. Torpedoes were launched towards the rapidly approaching vessel.
Dozens of mechanicus AFS abandoned the dogfight for dominance and made way for the intruder. The Destiny Ascension began to turn.
Mars' Providence activated its shields. Small explosions sparked across its length as evacuation craft collided with the reactivated barrier. His heart clenched at those death. So close to safety...
Nuclear fire bathed the alien ship. The irradiated hulk continued its course. Mars' Providence's shield flickered in vain as the Sigillitte collided. Solid "adamantium" armor hundreds of meters thick shattered from the force. Alien fighters began shooting down the helpless escapees.
He completely closed the BattleROM and looked down. Very little had been added to his notes beyond cursory insights and timestamps.
…
A nation that could have effortlessly conquered the Inner Sphere died. That most likely could crush the SLDF with ease. He picked up a report, mainly of his own notes and stolen data from the Free Worlds League.
Ark Akasha
Ark Magnus
Cadia
Cradle
Destiny Ascension
Eternal Quest
Forerunner
Invincible Creed
Iron Hand
Mars' Providence
Olympian Covenant
Perennial Harvest
Revelation of Recovery
Sigillite
Silica's Bane
Vulkan's Ambition
Victorious Faith
Vigilant Spark
Will of the Omnissiah
Most of these vessels could have ruined if not ended a House by themselves. Most likely the Blessed Order as well. Malcador's almost casual summary and dismissal of the SLDF had not gone unnoticed. They ended their observations of the greatest military in the Inner Sphere in favor of looking for aliens for over twenty years. It was telling. That they weren't considered a threat. Manageable. And what that implied about their stance towards Comstar.
Now they were gone…so much scrap in the void. Salvage in extraterrestrial hands.
Destroyed. Murdered. An entire civilization dead in a single day. Tens of millions dead. A death toll not seen since the Second Succession War. Anyone that had survived the destruction of their fleet would be drifting in space, abandoned to the aliens or uncaring void of space. So few managed to escape in the end.
Only the Indomitable Spirit survived.
The impaled soldier's head snapped back and forth as the horde charged to their deaths. Astartes Alcaeus died as the claw closed around his head. Helpless as the crowd mauled his body. The last stand of over a thousand men and women, trying to feed their people. Countless battles just like it raging across the fleet.
Forerunner died before the battle could begin, its warp jump seized by Behemoth into its crushing maw. Countless evacuation craft died by the score as the Sigillite swung through the void. Destiny Ascension, the Mechanicus' flagship, drowned under the weight of boarding pods. Eternal Quest, unable to escape, chose to sacrifice itself, blocking 20 ships so the Indomitable Spirit could escape the cordon.
The Ark Akasaha had strained its warp engines from jumping into and out of the cordon. Unable to jump to the rally point at systems edge before the Destiny Ascension self-destructed. Victorious Faith's warp drive malfunctioned, sending almost the entire ship into oblivion. The record stated that the ship was "consigned to the immaterium", and was lost with all hands.
Cradle. A safeguard, the notes had mourned. One final contingency, for the young, old and priceless technologies to escape if the aliens were hostile. Oh how right they were.
Teleported into Behemoth's crushing maw when it attempted to warp jump away, joining the dying Forerunner and Vigilant Spark. Frantic battles to destroy the invaders without damaging their ship. Entire regiments marched into Behemoth in doomed suicide missions in an attempt to release the ships. Hallways of blood and gore. A sanctuary turned charnel house.
The freshly born alien attempted to murder adept Jack, who had taken a step back as the ceiling mounted arms quickly lunged down, grabbing the roaring beast. The hundreds of towering guards in power armor no longer seemed as redundant. He had later handled a standard set of the restraints meant for larger specimens. All four restraints were heavy enough to pin a man with their weight alone. The aliens in their cells didn't seem to notice them. He knew then, Adept Jack would have been torn apart in an instant.
The only reason he had access to footage battlerom of the spacebattle itself was its relevance to his assigned task to learn about the Adeptus Mechanicus. His purpose was to observe them and begin relations. Others in the office were ordered to observe the planetside raids. While ROM practiced compartmentalization, small leaks were inevitable. He could see it. In the growing signs of stress and apprehension amongst his colleagues. What had they seen analyzing the ground battles the Adeptus Mechanicus held to gather information and proof before their arrival?
If the mechanicus was truthful, they were in dire straits. He didn't dare voice it in his report. That mankind was too weak. Divided. The implied solutions required. A great deal of work and time would be needed to mend the ties. Time they may not have. Decisions and judgements of that magnitude fell far beyond his purview. Only the First Circuit could dictate policy on such a scale. His superiors had begun to word it in a far more digestible way, to banish doubts like these.
He knew others in ROM that would not be so accepting of these explanations. The core pillar of their work was threatened. Comstar's faith was a dangerous beast at times and he was unsure how it would respond to this challenge. Precentors Avalon and Tharkad would vehemently oppose doubts, any doubts, to the Order's work. What would the normally neutral Precentor Atreus do, now empowered in light of this crisis? And that was only the near future. No doubt the First Circuit had seen the coming times and begun their games.
What chaotic changes lurked in the decades to come? ROM agent Stephen Miles was reminded of Malcador's prediction of the war.
"I suspect this war will have a horrible habit of surprising us."
+++++++++++
Sidestory: Incident delected (During Chapter 5)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
alcador's troubles. Canon.
Occurs after Malcador's landing on Atreus and before he meets with the Captain-General in chapter 5. I couldn't fit it in.
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Atreus surface
Camp Karpov
Early Afternoon
A brief lull formed as I watched the Mechanicus finish unloading from the Lander's control room. I had been too fast in organizing the landing and unloading. Leaving me with little to do at this stage beyond cursory checks. The ever-capable Archmagos Protonimus and Legionnaire Sidero handled the rest. Unfortunately, I was no master of logistics and my efforts would only slow them down.
A quick check at my schedule revealed no problems that needed handling.
There wasn't anything for me to personally do until it was time to offload the power armor in 5 minutes. Leaving me to sit in silence. And as the scant few minutes dragged on, my mind wandered…
…
…
As always, the men and women of the Mechanicus and Imperium in my care were silent as they offloaded the materials under the oversight of the League forces. There was the clink of armor, shift of cloth, servo-drone humming, clank of containers and whine of machinery, but no speech. I imagined that it didn't take long for the Free Worlds League guards to note the lack of speech in the organized cacophony of noise. That common, instinctive sound.
In contrast, the Noosphere was alive and bursting with orders, status checks and the many minutiae of offloading the needed materials for the demonstration. The observers' were slowly becoming more uncomfortable as the horde seemed to work and move without saying a word. As piles of priceless technology were placed and organized.
I could see it. Through the swarm of servo-drones flying overhead, my cybernetic eye, or even status reports on the guards. The subtle tightness of facial muscles in thought, then realization. Embedded programs traced the line of sight as they shifted from person to person, looking and hearing for any sign of speech, of sound.
For a time, I had considered ordering them to act as if they were still them, when all my attempts to undo my mistake had failed. As if their minds and drives were not gone. As they weren't servitorized in all but name. Perhaps it was for the best that the changes left them unable to properly act for too long without extensive training and modification. I couldn't go through with it. To puppet that kind of lie.
If they weren't declared tech-heresy, I'm sure the Mechancius would have marveled at their state if they could see them. All free will gone. All drive gone. Emotionless. Stripped of wants, desires, pains, fears, and will to live. Their souls and minds were slightly altered. The Dark Mechanicum imprisoned in the holds were unable to determine how. The Inquisitors couldn't make any headway. My gifted knowledge offered no answer. What few psykers that didn't mutate when their minds left them only had vague guesses.
Yet…knowledge remained. Skills, practice, innate talents and somehow varying degrees of innovation were untouched. An Archmagos could still study and learn. Guardsmen and sisters of battle trained and drilled under Astartes watch. Techpriests experimented and climbed the ranks. Menials and laborers became faster, adapting to their new tasks as they "settled in". The few remaining inquisitors could teach what they knew of Ork behavior. Astartes gave combat data and advice.
But never on their own. Not without orders. Not without the cybernetics I had installed to chain them to my will. Not without theboon curse-
{+}Accessing Memory: Warning, subject memories marked as-
There was so much blood on my hands.
Body after body. Surgery after surgery. It didn't matter if I would need to do it over 100 million times. I worked my body to its limits. And when that wasn't enough, I turned to augmentation. After months of study and practice, I had the skill and experience to operate on myself, but I needed aid to get to the first step. To install the systems that would enhance and suppress the strengths and weaknesses of the human body.
The archmagi were ordered to further study my processes, and begin implementing it. I went under the knife as they studied.
I took one final breath before the drugs put me to sleep. My chosen surgeons stood over me with so many tools. The innate knowledge on cybernetics left little to the imagination. First, they would remove-
And it all stemmed from my failure.
The infant stared up at me in the recovery room. Thick bandages were wrapped around her shaved head. Eyes blank. She was only two. Too young to have skills. Too young to have talents, or ability to speak much.
Too young to have much of a personality. Unresponsive.
Gone.
A techpriest pulled the gurney away to the stasis chambers. I gave the orders to move the rest of the young to the stasis vaults on Cradle. Datafeeds began to enter the noospshere. Millions would be interred.
The Inquisitor and Magos Biologis to my left calmly went over the results of the surgery, turned into a glorified secretaries.
"I want them to obey me."
'Speak.' I pleaded in my mind, making sure I didn't make it an order. The Iron Warriors only stared ahead, unmoving. As still as statues.
Six words.
Hundreds of cycles were spent trying to bring them back. To have something.
Test after test. Failure after failure. Ancient archmagi. Blanks. Standard humans. Mutants. Even a navigator. Over 30 million people we had operated on. And nothing to show for it. By the end of it, I'd replaced 85% of my body.
Six words, and I damned them to the void.
And when I couldn't take it anymore. I gave the order. The pocket dimension closed. We entered the universe of Battletech. Sensors revealed a colossal Ork fleet. A space hulk sat behind the fleet. We were outnumbered.
"All vessels, prepare to engage." Except Cradle. Cradle would jump out of the engagement zone. The young and technological treasures would be safely sitting in the stasis while I went to work. Just in case this went wrong, I'd still have the data and technology.
{+}Emotion Regulator: Stress Threshold Reached, terminating memory access.{+}
"Ah!" I would gasp if I still had lungs. My body shuddered as it attempted to complete orders it couldn't do with parts it didn't have. I shut down the mimicry programs. Damn it. I can't wipe my eye with metal claws! They were supposed to help me rehumanize my movements and body language, not make me look like I was having a fucking panic attack!
{+}Emotion Regulator: Days since last stress event-43{+}
I-I couldn't do this. Not here. Not when everything hung in the balance.
{+}System Order: Suppress last five minutes of thought! Archive memory access from logs. Increase suppression of memories between Arrival and October 5th, 3020. Purge emotional reaction. Leave note to review planned speech for Dune Strider Perpetual Motion system, Rejuvenate treatment and Compensation Package.{+}
{-}Processing{-}
Fuck. FUCK. I'll deal with it later.
{-}Processing.{-}
Everything was going haazzyyy. Thank goodness I'd-
{-}Thoughts suppressed.{-}
I blinked. Ah, where was I? My mind must have wandered. I was in…my lander. No no no, I can't fall asleep here! A servo-drone levitated to my right and projected my image. My robes were still neat and tidy. No ruffles in my appearance. Good. That was good. What was I doing again?
Looking over my notes…
Speech Review? I thought it was enough, but perhaps the details on XXXXXXX production could be reviewed. And while I was at it I could check the plasma generator blueprints.
I pulled up data files.
[Sidestory 2 End]
Occurs after Malcador's landing on Atreus and before he meets with the Captain-General in chapter 5. I couldn't fit it in.
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Atreus surface
Camp Karpov
Early Afternoon
A brief lull formed as I watched the Mechanicus finish unloading from the Lander's control room. I had been too fast in organizing the landing and unloading. Leaving me with little to do at this stage beyond cursory checks. The ever-capable Archmagos Protonimus and Legionnaire Sidero handled the rest. Unfortunately, I was no master of logistics and my efforts would only slow them down.
A quick check at my schedule revealed no problems that needed handling.
There wasn't anything for me to personally do until it was time to offload the power armor in 5 minutes. Leaving me to sit in silence. And as the scant few minutes dragged on, my mind wandered…
…
…
As always, the men and women of the Mechanicus and Imperium in my care were silent as they offloaded the materials under the oversight of the League forces. There was the clink of armor, shift of cloth, servo-drone humming, clank of containers and whine of machinery, but no speech. I imagined that it didn't take long for the Free Worlds League guards to note the lack of speech in the organized cacophony of noise. That common, instinctive sound.
In contrast, the Noosphere was alive and bursting with orders, status checks and the many minutiae of offloading the needed materials for the demonstration. The observers' were slowly becoming more uncomfortable as the horde seemed to work and move without saying a word. As piles of priceless technology were placed and organized.
I could see it. Through the swarm of servo-drones flying overhead, my cybernetic eye, or even status reports on the guards. The subtle tightness of facial muscles in thought, then realization. Embedded programs traced the line of sight as they shifted from person to person, looking and hearing for any sign of speech, of sound.
For a time, I had considered ordering them to act as if they were still them, when all my attempts to undo my mistake had failed. As if their minds and drives were not gone. As they weren't servitorized in all but name. Perhaps it was for the best that the changes left them unable to properly act for too long without extensive training and modification. I couldn't go through with it. To puppet that kind of lie.
If they weren't declared tech-heresy, I'm sure the Mechancius would have marveled at their state if they could see them. All free will gone. All drive gone. Emotionless. Stripped of wants, desires, pains, fears, and will to live. Their souls and minds were slightly altered. The Dark Mechanicum imprisoned in the holds were unable to determine how. The Inquisitors couldn't make any headway. My gifted knowledge offered no answer. What few psykers that didn't mutate when their minds left them only had vague guesses.
Yet…knowledge remained. Skills, practice, innate talents and somehow varying degrees of innovation were untouched. An Archmagos could still study and learn. Guardsmen and sisters of battle trained and drilled under Astartes watch. Techpriests experimented and climbed the ranks. Menials and laborers became faster, adapting to their new tasks as they "settled in". The few remaining inquisitors could teach what they knew of Ork behavior. Astartes gave combat data and advice.
But never on their own. Not without orders. Not without the cybernetics I had installed to chain them to my will. Not without the
{+}Accessing Memory: Warning, subject memories marked as-
There was so much blood on my hands.
Body after body. Surgery after surgery. It didn't matter if I would need to do it over 100 million times. I worked my body to its limits. And when that wasn't enough, I turned to augmentation. After months of study and practice, I had the skill and experience to operate on myself, but I needed aid to get to the first step. To install the systems that would enhance and suppress the strengths and weaknesses of the human body.
The archmagi were ordered to further study my processes, and begin implementing it. I went under the knife as they studied.
I took one final breath before the drugs put me to sleep. My chosen surgeons stood over me with so many tools. The innate knowledge on cybernetics left little to the imagination. First, they would remove-
And it all stemmed from my failure.
The infant stared up at me in the recovery room. Thick bandages were wrapped around her shaved head. Eyes blank. She was only two. Too young to have skills. Too young to have talents, or ability to speak much.
Too young to have much of a personality. Unresponsive.
Gone.
A techpriest pulled the gurney away to the stasis chambers. I gave the orders to move the rest of the young to the stasis vaults on Cradle. Datafeeds began to enter the noospshere. Millions would be interred.
The Inquisitor and Magos Biologis to my left calmly went over the results of the surgery, turned into a glorified secretaries.
"I want them to obey me."
'Speak.' I pleaded in my mind, making sure I didn't make it an order. The Iron Warriors only stared ahead, unmoving. As still as statues.
Six words.
Hundreds of cycles were spent trying to bring them back. To have something.
Test after test. Failure after failure. Ancient archmagi. Blanks. Standard humans. Mutants. Even a navigator. Over 30 million people we had operated on. And nothing to show for it. By the end of it, I'd replaced 85% of my body.
Six words, and I damned them to the void.
And when I couldn't take it anymore. I gave the order. The pocket dimension closed. We entered the universe of Battletech. Sensors revealed a colossal Ork fleet. A space hulk sat behind the fleet. We were outnumbered.
"All vessels, prepare to engage." Except Cradle. Cradle would jump out of the engagement zone. The young and technological treasures would be safely sitting in the stasis while I went to work. Just in case this went wrong, I'd still have the data and technology.
{+}Emotion Regulator: Stress Threshold Reached, terminating memory access.{+}
"Ah!" I would gasp if I still had lungs. My body shuddered as it attempted to complete orders it couldn't do with parts it didn't have. I shut down the mimicry programs. Damn it. I can't wipe my eye with metal claws! They were supposed to help me rehumanize my movements and body language, not make me look like I was having a fucking panic attack!
{+}Emotion Regulator: Days since last stress event-43{+}
I-I couldn't do this. Not here. Not when everything hung in the balance.
{+}System Order: Suppress last five minutes of thought! Archive memory access from logs. Increase suppression of memories between Arrival and October 5th, 3020. Purge emotional reaction. Leave note to review planned speech for Dune Strider Perpetual Motion system, Rejuvenate treatment and Compensation Package.{+}
{-}Processing{-}
Fuck. FUCK. I'll deal with it later.
{-}Processing.{-}
Everything was going haazzyyy. Thank goodness I'd-
{-}Thoughts suppressed.{-}
I blinked. Ah, where was I? My mind must have wandered. I was in…my lander. No no no, I can't fall asleep here! A servo-drone levitated to my right and projected my image. My robes were still neat and tidy. No ruffles in my appearance. Good. That was good. What was I doing again?
Looking over my notes…
Speech Review? I thought it was enough, but perhaps the details on XXXXXXX production could be reviewed. And while I was at it I could check the plasma generator blueprints.
I pulled up data files.
[Sidestory 2 End]
Sidestory: Gork and Mork have fun
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
Date: Error Wagh
Location:Error Wagh
Time:Error Wagh
The twin roars and laughter cut through the warp. Chaos beset Gork and Mork. A force that could have shattered Terra's defenses a thousand times over descended on them. The pair were surrounded. In the distance, the sky rained blood. The warp had not buckled under such pressure since the War in Heaven.
Neither cared.
There was a fight, and that was all that mattered. Their gazes cowed the mortal followers that accompanied the endless hordes. Their roars blew away the weak and insignificant, casting them into oblivion. Their footsteps destroyed hordes of lesser daemons. And before their blows, Greater Servants fell.
Gork howled with laughter as he hefted another Space Hulk and bowled it.
Bloodthirsters bellowed as they were beaten down, rage and blood faltering in the face of such power. Keepers Of Secrets lied broken and defeated, speed and cruelty unable to meaningfully hurt them. Unclean Ones burst from glancing blows and struggled to reform, their legendary endurance only enough to survive. Lords of Change were shattered and cast to the wind, sorcery and scheme crushed under the weight of propa Ork power.
Enslaved void whales were battered and thrown aside. Space Hulks were obliterated and the debris rained down in fiery hulks. Colossal warp beasts and abominations died in droves. Countless horrors, all attendants and tools of the great game. All defeated and weakened. Many of them would not reform or return to their full strength for millennia.
Nevertheless, the armies of the 4 marched on the Ork Gods. And the prize Mork held.
Mork grabbed a void whale before balling it up. He opened his gaping maw and consumed the screaming beast, before spitting out the Great Unclean One hiding inside. It splattered like gum on the ground.
The silver coin was simple. Large enough to cover Mork's palm. A singular door carved and engraved on its sides, both mockingly closed. It resisted all attempts to breach it. A trio of Keepers of Secrets snuck past the gaze of both gods. Sixty-six of their number sacrificed themselves to distract Gork and Mork. They pushed and pulled, but the gates would not move. It was not long before they were noticed, and Mork's retaliatory smack left them smeared across the coin.
They sensed it. All of them did. What lay behind those doors. A portal. To another place. To another warp. Pure and untouched by their influence. Where they could spread. The infinite depth of the warp and the great game could be doubled.
Tuska Daemonkilla roared in joy as he beat a Lord of Change with a Keeper of Secrets. The ork had to be excised of Khorne's grasp, but even afterwards the Ork was more than a match for the greater daemons surrounding them.
Gork and Mork smiled as the horizon of blood finally arrived. Mork swallowed the silver coin. Gork reached to his side, and pulled. A handle slowly emerged into his grasp. Mork laughed as the daemons ran for safety they would not find.
The Warp twisted as it came.
The few remaining mortals contorted as their minds and souls broke, turning into witless spawn.
An ocean of boiling blood poured out, consuming the gathered armies. Deep enough to sink worlds into its depths. Vast enough to cover the eye of terror. The servants of Slannesh, Tzeentch and Nurgle boiled and drowned as the red tide consumed them. None could escape.
Armies of bloodthirsters rose on towers of brass emerging from the red sea. Titanic bells tolled with the screams of taken skulls, heralding the arrival of their lord. Spiked chains snaked out of the towers, plunging deep into the churning mass below. They returned covered in masses of struggling bodies. Countless daemons screamed as burning chains ensnared them to the towers. Angron soared overhead, silent.
Gork and Mork grew. Until they stood knee deep in the blood and gore.
"You'z lookin kinda red today." Mork remarked, picking bits of blood and gore out of his teef. Gork continued to slowly draw out the handle.
The sea shuddered at its footsteps, colossal tidal waves knocked over towers to close to its approach. Eyes filled with endless rage bore down on them. Everything too close to its passage was set aflame. Its fists were clenched with galaxy shattering anger. The skulls of the dead and defeated slowly floated up, drawn towards the god of blood and skulls.
Khorne had come.
"GORK." His roar echoed. A brass finger accusingly pointed at the ork. Gork looked to Mork before point a finger back to himself. "Me?"
"Ah zog!" Mork shouted in alarm. Gork looked at him, still dramatically drawing his weapon. "Wot? I'z just da red git?"
"Tuska's dead." Mork shouted.
"Oh zog! Dida step on 'im?"
"No ya git, 'e drowned."
The two gods immediately belched, sending the crazy git on his way. "I fink he's my new favorite." Mork remarked.
"Ghaz is betta."
"MY SWORD."
"Nuh uh. I'z my choppa now." Gork finally drew the blade. The once mighty blade of Khorne had changed. Once, to look upon Khorne's sword was to look upon war. Every war waged since his birth. Dyed red in the blood spilled in his name. Anointed with the skulls and bones of countless champions. Such was its aura none but his own could stand to be in its presence. The anathema's light fled when Khorne deigned to draw it.
The aura of malice and mindless violence had disappeared. All heraldry and millennia of worthy champions removed. It resembled a sharpened sword, completely green and covered in crossed out lines of black orkish scrawl. Gork reached his other hand into the space where the blade had emerged. He pulled out a giant paint brush covered in green paint. "No name yet. Need somefing extra choppy."
Khorne opened his gauntlet, reaching out to his lost blade. It shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh, dibz." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green. Gork's sword shook one last time before stilling. "See? Green means its moine now." He scratched his back with it.
Again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
"You'd fink he'd stop by now." Mork commented.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
A Lord of Changed dared to start laughing as the cycle continued.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"NUH. UH. MY LOOT." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It did not change or shudder. There was so much paint onKhorne's Gork's sword it resembled a lumpy green stick.
"YEAH GREEN IS BEST! YOU LOSE!"
Khorne let out a wordless bellow of anger. He raised his hand, and from the sea an axe of bone rose. The gathered armies of Khorne screamed in fervor as their God approached the ork gods.
"SO BE IT!"
The ork gods looked at each other before laughing again.
"Dis was the best deal eva!" Gork exclaimed.
"I wont 'is 'ead for me new boss pole!" Mork marked his dibs.
"I WILL FORGE A NEW THRONE FROM YOUR SKULLS!"
""WAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGH!"" They cheered.
[Sidestory 3 End]
A/N:
Location:
Time:
The twin roars and laughter cut through the warp. Chaos beset Gork and Mork. A force that could have shattered Terra's defenses a thousand times over descended on them. The pair were surrounded. In the distance, the sky rained blood. The warp had not buckled under such pressure since the War in Heaven.
Neither cared.
There was a fight, and that was all that mattered. Their gazes cowed the mortal followers that accompanied the endless hordes. Their roars blew away the weak and insignificant, casting them into oblivion. Their footsteps destroyed hordes of lesser daemons. And before their blows, Greater Servants fell.
Gork howled with laughter as he hefted another Space Hulk and bowled it.
Bloodthirsters bellowed as they were beaten down, rage and blood faltering in the face of such power. Keepers Of Secrets lied broken and defeated, speed and cruelty unable to meaningfully hurt them. Unclean Ones burst from glancing blows and struggled to reform, their legendary endurance only enough to survive. Lords of Change were shattered and cast to the wind, sorcery and scheme crushed under the weight of propa Ork power.
Enslaved void whales were battered and thrown aside. Space Hulks were obliterated and the debris rained down in fiery hulks. Colossal warp beasts and abominations died in droves. Countless horrors, all attendants and tools of the great game. All defeated and weakened. Many of them would not reform or return to their full strength for millennia.
Nevertheless, the armies of the 4 marched on the Ork Gods. And the prize Mork held.
Mork grabbed a void whale before balling it up. He opened his gaping maw and consumed the screaming beast, before spitting out the Great Unclean One hiding inside. It splattered like gum on the ground.
The silver coin was simple. Large enough to cover Mork's palm. A singular door carved and engraved on its sides, both mockingly closed. It resisted all attempts to breach it. A trio of Keepers of Secrets snuck past the gaze of both gods. Sixty-six of their number sacrificed themselves to distract Gork and Mork. They pushed and pulled, but the gates would not move. It was not long before they were noticed, and Mork's retaliatory smack left them smeared across the coin.
They sensed it. All of them did. What lay behind those doors. A portal. To another place. To another warp. Pure and untouched by their influence. Where they could spread. The infinite depth of the warp and the great game could be doubled.
Tuska Daemonkilla roared in joy as he beat a Lord of Change with a Keeper of Secrets. The ork had to be excised of Khorne's grasp, but even afterwards the Ork was more than a match for the greater daemons surrounding them.
Gork and Mork smiled as the horizon of blood finally arrived. Mork swallowed the silver coin. Gork reached to his side, and pulled. A handle slowly emerged into his grasp. Mork laughed as the daemons ran for safety they would not find.
The Warp twisted as it came.
The few remaining mortals contorted as their minds and souls broke, turning into witless spawn.
An ocean of boiling blood poured out, consuming the gathered armies. Deep enough to sink worlds into its depths. Vast enough to cover the eye of terror. The servants of Slannesh, Tzeentch and Nurgle boiled and drowned as the red tide consumed them. None could escape.
Armies of bloodthirsters rose on towers of brass emerging from the red sea. Titanic bells tolled with the screams of taken skulls, heralding the arrival of their lord. Spiked chains snaked out of the towers, plunging deep into the churning mass below. They returned covered in masses of struggling bodies. Countless daemons screamed as burning chains ensnared them to the towers. Angron soared overhead, silent.
Gork and Mork grew. Until they stood knee deep in the blood and gore.
"You'z lookin kinda red today." Mork remarked, picking bits of blood and gore out of his teef. Gork continued to slowly draw out the handle.
The sea shuddered at its footsteps, colossal tidal waves knocked over towers to close to its approach. Eyes filled with endless rage bore down on them. Everything too close to its passage was set aflame. Its fists were clenched with galaxy shattering anger. The skulls of the dead and defeated slowly floated up, drawn towards the god of blood and skulls.
Khorne had come.
"GORK." His roar echoed. A brass finger accusingly pointed at the ork. Gork looked to Mork before point a finger back to himself. "Me?"
"Ah zog!" Mork shouted in alarm. Gork looked at him, still dramatically drawing his weapon. "Wot? I'z just da red git?"
"Tuska's dead." Mork shouted.
"Oh zog! Dida step on 'im?"
"No ya git, 'e drowned."
The two gods immediately belched, sending the crazy git on his way. "I fink he's my new favorite." Mork remarked.
"Ghaz is betta."
"MY SWORD."
"Nuh uh. I'z my choppa now." Gork finally drew the blade. The once mighty blade of Khorne had changed. Once, to look upon Khorne's sword was to look upon war. Every war waged since his birth. Dyed red in the blood spilled in his name. Anointed with the skulls and bones of countless champions. Such was its aura none but his own could stand to be in its presence. The anathema's light fled when Khorne deigned to draw it.
The aura of malice and mindless violence had disappeared. All heraldry and millennia of worthy champions removed. It resembled a sharpened sword, completely green and covered in crossed out lines of black orkish scrawl. Gork reached his other hand into the space where the blade had emerged. He pulled out a giant paint brush covered in green paint. "No name yet. Need somefing extra choppy."
Khorne opened his gauntlet, reaching out to his lost blade. It shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh, dibz." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green. Gork's sword shook one last time before stilling. "See? Green means its moine now." He scratched his back with it.
Again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
"You'd fink he'd stop by now." Mork commented.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
A Lord of Changed dared to start laughing as the cycle continued.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"Nuh uh." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword. The red glow shined green.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It once again shuddered and shook with a baleful red glow.
"NUH. UH. MY LOOT." SPLAT went the green paint on the sword.
And again, Khorne reached out to his lost blade. It did not change or shudder. There was so much paint on
"YEAH GREEN IS BEST! YOU LOSE!"
Khorne let out a wordless bellow of anger. He raised his hand, and from the sea an axe of bone rose. The gathered armies of Khorne screamed in fervor as their God approached the ork gods.
"SO BE IT!"
The ork gods looked at each other before laughing again.
"Dis was the best deal eva!" Gork exclaimed.
"I wont 'is 'ead for me new boss pole!" Mork marked his dibs.
"I WILL FORGE A NEW THRONE FROM YOUR SKULLS!"
""WAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGH!"" They cheered.
[Sidestory 3 End]
A/N:
- Chaos won't be making an appearance in Battletech or this story. Gork and Mork simply got paid fat stacks of loot for letting their boyz go to another universe.
- The original draft of this was 2 mekboyz arguing if a number on the floor was a 6 or 9 for like 500 words. Only interrupted by another one saying it was a broken 8. It was literally just going to be the same thing over and over again, just copy and paste, but that fell apart when I realized orks probably don't use english numbers. So I swapped it to Gork applying excessive layers of unthinned paint to a sword.
Sidestory: Archmagos Quegox (During Chapter 5)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
Archmagos POV, Que pronounced like way. "Kwhay"
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Surface
FWL Base, Camp Karpov
Mid Afternoon
Archmagos Quegox surveyed the Chief-Fabricator's ongoing "technology demonstration". Enslaved neurons and altered soul shifted as the work continued. The gravity well, fashioned from spare starship gravplates, was working within acceptable tolerances. Once falling snow hovered in the air, shifting only with the wind. The delegates of the "Free Worlds League" looked on as gravity's pull was stopped and the snow returned to the skies above.
As planned, a guardsman leapt from a raised platform into the field. Quickly, the man ascended into the air, clad in only his winter gear. Large metal crates were carefully maneuvered into the field, before slowly rising into the air. The man began engaging in zero-g maneuvers, using the rising materials to push himself back towards the ground. Before long, the man had reached the ground, where a magos' pulled him out of the field.
Quegox's role in this display had ended, and thus control was handed to the quartet of techpriests responsible for the simpler remainder of the demonstration. The gravplate pulsed. The metal crates and snow rose and fell as gravity changed.
If the Archmagos still possessed their mind, it would have wrung its hands and mechandendrites in anticipation. Then promptly address the flesh impulse by adjusting its clearly malfunctioning cybernetics. Never before had it pushed the boundaries of discovery. Of innovation. Of daring to challenge the ancients.
The Chief-Fabricator proposed a data core of "First Principles" would be retrieved in exchange for transfer of technological data. An extensive exchange. Anti-gravity, stasis, adamantium, power armor, energy weapons, plasma, manufactorum plans, warship designs and many more.
Secrets the mechanicus shared with none. Not even the Imperium. And then there were the true relics and treasures.
An STC. Dune-strider engine plans. All potentially offered to secure the "cores".
The Chief-Fabricator's data and hypothesis were faulty. No such cores had survived the Dark Age of technology. For countless years, the survivors of the fall, the Mechanicum and Mechanicus had searched for such prizes. The data and precedent were clear. Their leader pursued a clearly false prize. A trap laid by an enemy and most certainly touched by Chaos.
Optimism was at times acceptable, but this was beyond all restraint. Had it been still whole, Quegox would have personally seen to the False Malcador's punishment. Over the noosphere, a techpriest sent the confirmation that the demonstration was proceeding as planned.
In mere 20 minutes, Quegox would personally display the combat applications of grav-weapons, a task he had never performed before. Things had changed for the once mediocre plasma expert. Time once spent in prayer and righteous obedience of the Omnissiah's teachings were now spent building. Now, there was no time for prayer. There was work to be done, at all times, for all hands.
Their cohorts' orders while onboard the Indomitable Spirit were to rebuild and rediscover the secrets of jetbikes, grav-weaponry and related gravity technology. Ancient samples were carefully selected and taken apart and studied. Their discoveries were fed into the Votanan node and secreted away to the data banks of the Indomitable Spirit. Experimentation was demanded if they could not make progress studying.
If not working on "research", Quegox would be maintaining the grav lifts of the Indomitable Spirit, and give advice on how to change and improve the designs when his shift was concluded.
Twice, Quegox had exceeded expectations and was thus granted a small amount of time to rest. Then, to teach outsiders the beginnings of the Machine Cults secrets.
{+}Chief-Fabricator: Grav-chute demonstration to begin. Complete mandated maintenance operations and prepare for grav-weaponry demonstrations.{+}
{+}Compliance.{+} They answered, the once proud magi of Mars.
Parts were maintained. Minds and cybernetics were allowed rest. Inside one of the landers, Quegox mindlessly stared into space next to a pair of menials who mechanically consumed foul tasting nutrient rations and small doses of Panacea. Normally, Quegox sported too many mechadendrites to actually sit next to others, but was permitted only one while on Atreus. Many others were limited in this fashion.
Chief-Fabricator Malcador, Captain-General Janos Marik and his observers clapped as the cadians successfully landed from their drop. Legionnaire Sidero easily landed after them, before departing to his post guarding the Landers.
The break ended, and their orders beckoned. Grav-weapons were retrieved from their secure containers and presented to the Free Worlds League technicians and soldiers to scan and observe before he would could enter the demonstration field. Quegox explained portions of the inner workings and answered questions within the timeframe available. He deflected and avoided direct answers when they asked for the exact science behind the machine.
As ordered, they presented the benefits and uses of grav-weaponry, as target dummies and blocks of metal were warped and twisted for outsiders' benefit and entertainment.
Quegox would have rebelled against this perversion of all he had known. Quegox would have unleased dangers from the vaults sealed below his forges than engage in such tekheresy. Even delve into the Noctis Labyrinth and drag back horros of Old Night. And he would not have been alone.
But Quegox was no more. Merely a puppet. Obedient. Shackles deeper than the hold of chaos. More ingrained than the dragon lurking below mars. Perhaps even stronger than He on Terra.
Quegox obeyed. For now and forever.
[Sidestory 4 End]
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Surface
FWL Base, Camp Karpov
Mid Afternoon
Archmagos Quegox surveyed the Chief-Fabricator's ongoing "technology demonstration". Enslaved neurons and altered soul shifted as the work continued. The gravity well, fashioned from spare starship gravplates, was working within acceptable tolerances. Once falling snow hovered in the air, shifting only with the wind. The delegates of the "Free Worlds League" looked on as gravity's pull was stopped and the snow returned to the skies above.
As planned, a guardsman leapt from a raised platform into the field. Quickly, the man ascended into the air, clad in only his winter gear. Large metal crates were carefully maneuvered into the field, before slowly rising into the air. The man began engaging in zero-g maneuvers, using the rising materials to push himself back towards the ground. Before long, the man had reached the ground, where a magos' pulled him out of the field.
Quegox's role in this display had ended, and thus control was handed to the quartet of techpriests responsible for the simpler remainder of the demonstration. The gravplate pulsed. The metal crates and snow rose and fell as gravity changed.
If the Archmagos still possessed their mind, it would have wrung its hands and mechandendrites in anticipation. Then promptly address the flesh impulse by adjusting its clearly malfunctioning cybernetics. Never before had it pushed the boundaries of discovery. Of innovation. Of daring to challenge the ancients.
The Chief-Fabricator proposed a data core of "First Principles" would be retrieved in exchange for transfer of technological data. An extensive exchange. Anti-gravity, stasis, adamantium, power armor, energy weapons, plasma, manufactorum plans, warship designs and many more.
Secrets the mechanicus shared with none. Not even the Imperium. And then there were the true relics and treasures.
An STC. Dune-strider engine plans. All potentially offered to secure the "cores".
The Chief-Fabricator's data and hypothesis were faulty. No such cores had survived the Dark Age of technology. For countless years, the survivors of the fall, the Mechanicum and Mechanicus had searched for such prizes. The data and precedent were clear. Their leader pursued a clearly false prize. A trap laid by an enemy and most certainly touched by Chaos.
Optimism was at times acceptable, but this was beyond all restraint. Had it been still whole, Quegox would have personally seen to the False Malcador's punishment. Over the noosphere, a techpriest sent the confirmation that the demonstration was proceeding as planned.
In mere 20 minutes, Quegox would personally display the combat applications of grav-weapons, a task he had never performed before. Things had changed for the once mediocre plasma expert. Time once spent in prayer and righteous obedience of the Omnissiah's teachings were now spent building. Now, there was no time for prayer. There was work to be done, at all times, for all hands.
Their cohorts' orders while onboard the Indomitable Spirit were to rebuild and rediscover the secrets of jetbikes, grav-weaponry and related gravity technology. Ancient samples were carefully selected and taken apart and studied. Their discoveries were fed into the Votanan node and secreted away to the data banks of the Indomitable Spirit. Experimentation was demanded if they could not make progress studying.
If not working on "research", Quegox would be maintaining the grav lifts of the Indomitable Spirit, and give advice on how to change and improve the designs when his shift was concluded.
Twice, Quegox had exceeded expectations and was thus granted a small amount of time to rest. Then, to teach outsiders the beginnings of the Machine Cults secrets.
{+}Chief-Fabricator: Grav-chute demonstration to begin. Complete mandated maintenance operations and prepare for grav-weaponry demonstrations.{+}
{+}Compliance.{+} They answered, the once proud magi of Mars.
Parts were maintained. Minds and cybernetics were allowed rest. Inside one of the landers, Quegox mindlessly stared into space next to a pair of menials who mechanically consumed foul tasting nutrient rations and small doses of Panacea. Normally, Quegox sported too many mechadendrites to actually sit next to others, but was permitted only one while on Atreus. Many others were limited in this fashion.
Chief-Fabricator Malcador, Captain-General Janos Marik and his observers clapped as the cadians successfully landed from their drop. Legionnaire Sidero easily landed after them, before departing to his post guarding the Landers.
The break ended, and their orders beckoned. Grav-weapons were retrieved from their secure containers and presented to the Free Worlds League technicians and soldiers to scan and observe before he would could enter the demonstration field. Quegox explained portions of the inner workings and answered questions within the timeframe available. He deflected and avoided direct answers when they asked for the exact science behind the machine.
As ordered, they presented the benefits and uses of grav-weaponry, as target dummies and blocks of metal were warped and twisted for outsiders' benefit and entertainment.
Quegox would have rebelled against this perversion of all he had known. Quegox would have unleased dangers from the vaults sealed below his forges than engage in such tekheresy. Even delve into the Noctis Labyrinth and drag back horros of Old Night. And he would not have been alone.
But Quegox was no more. Merely a puppet. Obedient. Shackles deeper than the hold of chaos. More ingrained than the dragon lurking below mars. Perhaps even stronger than He on Terra.
Quegox obeyed. For now and forever.
[Sidestory 4 End]
Chapter 5: Technology-ERROR
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Afternoon
The jetbikes had done well. Those were not an improved design, like the earlier grav-chutes. If the improved models were toeing the line, these new jetbikes were an actual crime by most interpretations of Martian law. Thank you Cawl for your rampant tech heresy.
While most of the personnel onboard took notes of your designs just to persecute you, I appreciated it. It made innovating much easier. And it was amusing how certain techpriets and magos dissected his work and theories under the guise of exactly pointing out how he had diverged from accepted work. And of course, as a record condemning heresy it should remain mostly undeleted, in case they needed make a similar case in the future…
"I am curious," Janos commented. "Has there been any work on applying grav-plating to your drop-pod technology?" He asked as the jetbikes rumbled out of view. The grav-weapon demonstration was going to begin in soon.
"Yes. There was consideration towards further integration of grav propelled drop pods, for both infantry and battlemechs, but we are considering utilizing stasis technology as well." I answered, leaning forward in my chair. The seating made a small sound of complaint. Ah. I made a note to add more cushioning to my robes or reduce my weight.
He thought for a moment, before responding. "You want to stasis drop pods in air just before they land?"
{+}Emotion Scanner: High amounts of interest. Low amounts of annoyance. Estimated 52% Accuracy.{+} Annoyance again, but at what?
"That is correct. With appropriate calibration, it is possible for a stasis field to temporarily envelope its emitter, thus freezing it in place. Stasis fields can also be configured to stop momentum. We are still conducting research to reliably produce high endurance stasis fields for rapid deployment from orbit."
Janos quietly hummed. "Your current drop pods allow your forces to deploy from orbit. Around 18,000 kilometers." He recalled, citing the information I had sent him 2 days ago. Another drink to wet his throat before he continued. "That would be incredible, Chief-Fabricator. It would remove the need for heavy thrusters on the pod. You could even mount them on the top for acceleration. Aside from course corrections, there'd be no limit on how quickly you could deploy planetside, if I understand it correctly."
"Your analysis is correct Captain-General. The research is slow, but it is a high priority at this time." Misfiring stasis fields had a chance of craving new tunnels in the Indomitable Spirit, and we only stopped at a handful of worlds to do planetside testing. Acquiring planetside research facilities would accelerate the process.
His eyes widened slightly. "That wouldn't be the only application, would it? If you could stasis a drop pod's momentum, what else could you apply it to?" There was a rising interest in his voice. That was both assuring and worrying that he had realized it so quickly. It was good to have a competent ally, if Janos decided to be my ally.
"Projectiles Large vehicles. Missiles. Other large objects. Capital Weaponry. Warships. Perhaps even heat itself, it is only movement." He hypothesized, carefully watching me for a reaction.
I gave him a honest nod.
"I must say Chief-Fabricator, when I read the report on stasis technology, this was not what I was expecting." Janos finished with what seemed to be a mostly genuine look of amazement. I took a moment to think on our situation.
This was an important moment between the two of us. The true realization of how far ahead the Mechanicus were. Not just words on a page or that we simply built bigger. Was it enough to do something? How should I use it? Friendship between the two of us. A step towards true alliance. Humphery's had helped found the League with it. Can I use it?
Do I confirm his suspicions and reveal the final intended use for it? They were out there. Ork supercapital ships. Behemoth. Leviathan. Goliath. Still rampaging across the stars. The only ork vessels the Indomitable Spirit could not destroy in direct combat.
Mutual profit? Invite his nation to help study stasis tech? Jump him to Step 3 in The Plan? That was how other earthlings did things here. Blitz their chosen House Lord with lucrative offers with little apparent risk. It was working so far.
I nodded. "Correct on all accounts Captain-General. That is indeed what we plan to use them for in the far future. However, it will likely take years before the technology can be considered battlefield ready. While I have neglected to discuss it thus far, this technology would be most certainly included in the joint research program I wish to start." I directly offered, opening the topic.
Janos gave me a picture-perfect smile. Not too open, but not faked either. Almost an exact copy of some of his much earlier speeches in office. He seemed to have unaged a few years with that alone. My scanner noted an increased heart rate.
"I wished to do the same. What would your terms be?" The cup was placed to his side. A secretary discreetly stepped closer with a clipboard and pen. No, make that two.
"Extensive joint transfer of scientific knowledge and data. Any advancements made will be freely shared between our states. Joint collaborations to advance our nation's knowledge and interests." Not total. I would need to make that clear soon without offending him.
I dialed down my audio sensitivity at the faint scratching of pens on paper.
Janos paused momentarily. "An extremely open offer Chief-Fabricator. What does the Adeptus Mechanicus desire in exchange?" He didn't acknowledge the technological disparity. That was expected. I wouldn't give that kind of leverage either. It was a shame I couldn't do the same. Outright lying would only cause more trouble in the future.
"The ability to include other nations in similar, but more limited agreements. It would be ideal if results from these joint studies find their way to all participating States." I opened with. He should be able to decode that. No further payment required from his nation beyond the previously discussed cores. An implication of peace, but the FWL would have a much more appealing deal. Nations only, not entities. Similar, not identical. Limited, not total. Ideal, not mandatory. Discoveries would be shared amongst all members.
Constraining terms, but it shouldn't be unacceptable.
Janos' face didn't shift. His posture remained the same, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Something distant. Something stern and unyielding. It was there for only a brief instant before it disappeared. The Old Eagle returned to the pleasant older man.
Don't tell me I found an emotional landmine.
This was an unpleasant surprise. My initial understanding of Janos as a person was flawed. We had planned for the temptation of our technology and a defense treaty to be enough to hold his tongue.
"Will the Adeptus Mechanicus extend this offer substantially?" Came the cautious question.
"No, we remain committed to the terms. You will retain first access and will we not disburse technology to states that would oppose our goal of preparation. They will have to sign peace terms." An easy truth to give away. I was committed and would abide by it. His people were already set to receive it. Dozens of ambassadors had received my offer. Comstar wasn't going to reveal something like the data I had given them. Besides, it was nowhere near my total technology base.
Even then, the cease-fire terms I was going to present were going to take months to settle. More than enough time for Marik to believe it was gaining a considerable advantage.
"My people and I would be greatly reassured if there was further consideration on the matter. I believe a disorderly distribution would cause unneeded disruptions." He politely suggested.
Consideration. A tasteful way of wording his request. He wanted a say in what the other Houses would get. More politics. Potentially acceptable if managed. More political capital would be welcome. I logged it for later review.
I was toeing a line. Not the point of no return, but it could strain the delicate state of affairs. He had just implicitly not rejected peace with the other House Lords.
More importantly, it wasn't a direct refusal. I couldn't go outright ask him what he wanted to keep exclusively, that would be too direct. Dropping it wouldn't be the right way of leaving the subject. Denial would be too excessive.
"I concur. An unorderly distribution could pose a risk of causing more harm than good. However, the strategic situation is tenuous. Of the 8 worlds we have found, they alone produce tens of billions of them, per year. During our raids, we accomplished overwhelming disparity in casualties inflicted. We estimate they have already been replaced the losses." I reminded him.
"Additionally, their fleet greatly outmasses humanity's. There is no telling when they will discover mankind's location."
"I agree with your threat assessment, Chief-Fabricator. Your work towards Operation Alexandria and the Black Coast Protocol is nothing but extensive. I doubt some of my peers look as long term or as extensively as your people have in the past months. That said, I do have concerns." Janos protested, briefly nodding his head in agreement.
A brief wave of excited murmurs grabbed our attention. The air filled with a familiar suppressed conspiratorial tone, just barely suppressing its greed and interest. A tone I suspect I was going to have to get used to going forward. A pair of Giants pushing grav-sleds laden with no small number grav-weapons and needed equipment marched through the snow. The 4 archmagos and imperial guardsman behind them following in the furrows they left.
The target dummies were already prepared. Realistic human mannequins, blocks of metal, a faithful rendition of an industrial mech's cockpit, and provided realistic ork dummies.
Janos claimed he was looking forward to this section. Best not to spoil it too much. "I acknowledge your concerns. Shall we discuss them during the break?" It was set for around 3pm after the delays. Enough time to finish the grav-weapon demonstration and tease the adamantium armor.
The various grav-weapons were placed on stands or a table. Marik guardsmen stood next to the techpriests as they finished the preparations. Both would be using the gathered spread of weapons.
The large screen showing the field zoomed in, splitting into the weapons and the targets.
An archmagos gave a thumbs up to the FWL's guardsmen as he confirmed their state on the Noosphere. The crowd buzzed with excitement. To my right, Janos leaned forward.
It was time.
One of the archmagos, Quegox, stepped forward bearing a simple grav-rifle. Once a prized possession of an adept now long gone. A simple human target dummy standing 2 meters behind a solid metal wall. The Archmagos lined the shot, braced his frame and-
The air shook with a bass rumble as the green stream of gravitons arced over the metal. Then again. With a shriek the sheet's edges began to twist in at least 3 directions. Its center frayed, pieces tearing apart in curls. As for the dummy-it twisted on itself to fast for the naked eye. First in half as it torse folded, then outwards as it imploded. For the observers, all they saw was a brief flash of green lightning, then the targets were ruined.
Its ruined limp hand plopped back onto the soil.
Silence. Nothing. I surveyed the crowd. They were busy watching the slow-motion replay. Eyes widening as the target dummy twisted before the safety of cover. The Captain-General had a pleased look on his face.
Archmagos Quegox stepped back. The next was a FWL soldier, followed by a techpriest. He kept his composure as he carefully picked up the grav-pistol. The techpriest quickly went over the controls again. To their credit, the soldier was a quick study and he nodded his ascent before looking at his target.
An ork dummy.
He raised the relic grav-pistol. Textbook perfect form. An exhale of air, cold mist swirling in the air, and-direct impact. A flash of green lightning, followed by a deafening boom. This time, it was too fast for my implants. I watched the replay on the big screen.
The air visibly rumbled as the relic weapon lived up to its designation. Unprotected by armor, the 'ork's' body concaved out, its limbs almost popping out of its sockets. And just at it reached the point of no return, the entire thing compressed on itself. The spine and ribcage resisted for a moment before they snapped. With the loss of any structural integrity, the dummy ripped itself into a fat ovoid ball.
Someone below began to clap. As the first smack of palm on palm echoed, it was met with dozens of more. Janos nodded his head in approval as he clapped.
To the crowd's approval. Another techpriest stepped forward.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Afternoon
"My lord," Johnson began, bringing over a datapad. Janos Marik gave Johnson a brief look. Johnson was worried he was going to bite his head off. He gave Johnson a nod to continue, keeping his features neutral. "An insider trading accusation was just introduced in Parliament, directed at your son, Duggan." He finished with a whisper.
They knew full well to stay away from his family-! He took a deep breath. Calm. He had to stay calm.
Of course. How dare he not invite all of Parliament to Camp Karpov for this highly sensitive meeting? How could he not bring the leadership of the Free Worlds League near a heavily armed foreign delegation from state they had met only 3 days ago? He didn't dignify Parliament's stunt with a yell of anger or outrage. No. He would maintain his composure. The Chief-Fabricator was less than 60 meters away, speaking with his staff and entertaining his supporters' questions.
That should keep him somewhat distracted. With a brief tilt of his head, he watched the crowd.
Aides were beginning to come forward as their lords drifted from the crowd. It was only a matter of time. Hopefully it was just another idiot was tricked into submitting it and agitate Parliament. [No. Hope is a poor strategy.] One that had failed him too many times.
"Should he ask, please inform the Chief-Fabricator I will return momentarily." He ordered. Without any further sound, he walked away. There was a meeting room a short walk away from the stands. Thankfully, his staff adapted quickly, and only the needed key members discretely made their own way with him.
[At least they jumped the gun early. It'll be easy to dismiss. No, it was an accusation, not a charge.] He could fight a charge, an accusation would hang in the public eye. Then he'd have to deal with what they had next in store. It was only a matter of time.
"What happened?" No one just accuses the Minister of Trade of insider trading. Duggan was crooked, but he knew when to keep a lid on it. This was just getting absurd. What was Humphrey's thinking? He wouldn't hesitate to paint her entire faction with this act of stupidity.
"Ten minutes after the rejuvanent treatments began, his accounts flash sold 60 million Eagles in medical stocks." The stock market was still frozen until the end of the week. Was it private sale? What the hell was going on?
A guard opened the door for him as he made his way inside.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Afternoon
The Captain-General had just walked away. People were whispering. It was subtle thing, but to spread out to evade my attention. They were vague or used language I didn't fully understand. I was out of the loop, and Janos' allies were trying to conceal whatever was going on. Some of his political opponents were here, but his supporters made up the vast majority.
More annoyingly, the (very purple themed come to think of it) crowd had made its way to me as we made our way back into the building. Lords, Parliament members, military officials, and everything in between. Their greed and whatever was going on had mostly overridden the instinctive disgust at my cybernetics.
"I am afraid I cannot give accurate comparisons between Adamantium and Ferro Fibrous armor without samples for testing General." I replied to the latest official to make it through the line. To my relief, the aging general accepted the fact, and simply commented on looking forward to the tests.
What was going on?
I parsed through the various conversations as the next noble stepped forward. References to Parliament. The Marik amethyst? Someone referenced 60 million Eagles. A large sum, but nothing to note for the millionaire members of Parliament. I was missing context. The amount changed to 100 million. Another nobleman mentioned 30 million. Were these separate payments?
The next noble in the informal line stepped forward. We shook hands as he introduced himself.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Surface
Atreus Parliament
Afternoon
"This is an outrage!" "You are out of order Minister!" The slowly growing crowd of uninvited lords and Ministers argued as he watched. Duggan Marik was near red in the face as he argued with two lords, denying the accusations levied against him. Parliament had assembled, but it was not an official assembly. They wouldn't stroke more fire by calling an official assembly. The Captain-General would ignore it and the matter would only escalate. Something they weren't willing to do, yet.
As an unofficial gathering, the normal rules of Parliament were more suggestions than formal requirements for the chambers.
"You're as corrupt as your tyrant father Marik!" A Duke angrily yelled from the crowd, who if his memory was correct, held a very large stake in 3 major pharmaceutical companies.
Suggestions ignored now that pretenses of civility were starting to fall away. Someone bellowed for calm, and it was naturally ignored.
It was such a shame that the live feed of the chambers was still ongoing. The central hologram abruptly turned on. It depicted the ugliest members of the Adeptus Mechanicus' delegates. "Why is your father allowing these people onto our world!? Do we not have a say as Parliament?" A woman shouted. And there it was. The cybernetic nature of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
It was only a matter of time before the news would spread. Marik's enemies from within and out would spread the word. Personally, he took no joy from this, but it was for the best. Left unchecked, this resentment could have transformed into something far more violent.
Minister Rothchild and Minister Marik were face to face, shouting at one another, ignorant of the coming consequences. No one really watched these gatherings. The only live sessions typically covered the most boring and labyrinthine legislation. Now, he could only imagine the growing viewership. Those two had been in each other's face for almost an hour now.
It was ironic that the Captain-General brought many of his most loyal followers up north. They couldn't be in Parliament to defend him during his absence.
Duggan staggered back as Rothchild pushed him away. Another shove nearly tipped the Marik over. He couldn't make out what Duggan hissed out, but the gasps from some of the audience were telling. Bystanders rushed in separate the two. Red faced in anger, Duggan, son of Janos Marik, the Minister of Trade, swung with a fist. The strike nailed Rothchild square in the eye. This was far more than he could have hoped for. That image was going to spread across the League.
Rothchild toppled over, clutching his face.
Some of the lords and members of Parliament yelled, trying to be heard in the chaos. It wasn't to restore order. No, they were fighting for the spotlight. He could make out the sheer look of realization on Duggan Marik's face as he let the guards pull him off Minister Rothchild. Janos Marik was going to be furious.
It was simple to join the stream of aides departing the chambers as the guards stepped in to restore order. He exited just in time, as SAFE agents stormed in.
His part was done.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus
Various Locations
Mid-Afternoon
A single moment of distraction is all it takes. The brawl between two Ministers, one of them the Captain-General's son? Its more than they will ever need.
In the very chambers of Parliament, a Lyran spy's efforts yield fruit. She slinks away, a Minister's personal file in hand. The aide holding them was too distracted to notice the sleight of hand. Inside was an incomplete copy of the alliance terms between the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Free Worlds League, and more importantly the Ministers plans. The terms are disastrous.
The military alliance proposes that any hostile actions on both states, specifically when aware of an impending alien attack, are to be considered an act of war.
As far as the Minister was concerned, notice of a potential attack had just been given. There were battles ongoing at this very moment. Meaning that as soon as the papers were signed, the Lyran Commonwealth could potentially be at war with the Adeptus Mechanicus.
A handful of references indicated it was underway. This very morning, the proposal had been forwarded to the Captain-General's office. Allegedly, he and the Chief-Fabricator were in talks in the North.
That was unacceptable. She discreetly delivered the physical documents to her designated dropbox for the LIC in the suburbs outside Atreus City. Identity possibly compromised, the agent departed to a hidden safehouse.
It is not the LIC's agent, an unassuming man currently on route, that retrieves the documents.
The servants of the Dragon find the dropbox. A quick application of a stolen code, and the documents are theirs. The pair swiftly depart. In only a few short hours, the ISF will begin its own investigation. One now far ahead of the Dragon's competitors.
They need an opening. There was an opportunity to be had, and SAFE was no doubt distracted. All they needed was a small push to temporarily blind the Eagle's eyes. It comes rather unexpectedly, as images of the cybernetic Adeptus Mechanicus finally begin to circulate from the live broadcast of the chambers.
That was more than sufficient. They help the information reach the public. Their resources on Atreus were few, but they were sufficient to fuel public discourse. A priority message was sent to their leader, Subhash Indrahar with a one-time pad. The official from the embassy ferrying the message bypasses the long lines outside the station.
Why were the priority HPG rates almost 5% higher?
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Hanger 4
Early Evening
I was silent as we exited the Lander, back on the Indomitable Spirit. We managed to stay on schedule, having left just before 7:30pm. Which wasn't supposed to happen due to the morning's delays. We were supposed to go on until 9:00pm.
The Captain-General and his supporters tried to hide it, returning to the demonstration with gusto. They completely turned to damage control mode as the now very public images of my staff and I began to circulate. It was unfortunate that we had access to Atreus' local data network. A lot had happened during the break. When faced with dealing with his unruly Parliament, the irritated public or snubbing me, he chose to keep with the demonstration for as long as he could.
On one hand, that indicated he placed a high value our alliance. On the other, it meant he wasn't keeping his people in check. Which will reduce his effectiveness in mobilizing support.
We sped through the armor demonstrations. The large blocks of adamantium were barely given a glance we moved to the power armor. By then, the attendees began to show signs of fatigue. I decided to be gracious and request we close for today, and resume tomorrow. That way he didn't need to say anything to cover his ass or save face.
Unfortunately, I had duties to see to. Such as the 20 different ambassadors blowing up my official comms. The 4 representatives from the Houses, 6 from the Periphery, and the rest being Free Worlds League member states.
Today was just not it.
I made my way back to the Command Deck instead of my quarters. Tonight was going to be busy. I'll just have some of my cybernetics brought to me. I had handled some of the ambassadors' concerns while in transit, but they wanted emergency meetings. Just selecting the order was going to be a problem. Perhaps in order of time received, with Houses first then Periphery?
I received a priority video from my staff. Ah, that was a man in the streets of Atreus City burning a crude imitation of a techpriest. It was a red bedsheet on a stick, with random bits of metal sticking out of it. At least there wasn't a toaster for a head. The local police quickly subdued the man. Close by reporters resisted their efforts to disperse them.
Comstar news was calling for calm, now nice of them. Naturally, they were slightly embellishing the exact nature of the argument. Instead of pointing out that this may be a result of the Captain-General seizing power and the many parties side-lined now that he assumed near absolute power, they were chalking it up to potential disagreements in the government and slightly hinting at anti-cybernetic sentiment. If you looked closely, you could reach the same conclusion, but that image of a burning replica was rather distracting.
The ambassadors from the houses were quick to offer their sympathies, and that they would never discriminate against my people for their cybernetics. The unspoken unlike the Free Worlds League was very much noticed.
{+}Communications: Receiving meeting request with Precentor Pedrigor Aliz. Subject: HPG concerns.{+}
{-}Chief-Fabricator: Acknowledged. Standby for orders.{-}
What did they want now? We made way for the bridge. Aside from Legionnaire Sidero, the rest of the Astartes were dismissed for debriefing.
{+}Chief-Fabricator: Send reply for availability in 15 minutes.{+}
{-}Communication: Compliance.{-}
I donned a fresh set of robes and settled in the Command Throne. Connecting to the ship would come later. It didn't take long before Comstar sent the data-stream. It was a video format, not hologram. I directed it to my eye.
A servo-drone moved into position in front of me, cameras at the ready. I briefly reviewed my appearance through the drone's point of view. The throne's armrests were still scratched. I adjusted it to show only my face and shoulders.
Atreus' Precentor, Predrigor Aliz appeared. He seemed only a little haggard. I wondered how much of it was the camera and how much was makeup. The Precentor gave a calm and composed air.
And he was not alone. The Captain-General appeared to his right. Within an instant he schooled his features. Aside from a wide-eyed blink in shock, there wasn't any sign of surprise. I wouldn't have been able to manage that level of control if I was only flesh and blood.
In fact, he'd somehow managed to look well-kept despite his busy day. The lighting was far more favorable as well. I wasn't able to determine if it was the same set of clothes or just another set. Whoever was in charge of makeup for the Captain-General clearly knew what they were doing.
The three of us stared at each other for a moment in silence. Before I could speak and try to take some semblance of control over the conversation, Pedrigor spoke first.
"My apologies for the sudden and unprompted meeting Chief-Fabricator, Captain-General." He said respectably. Janos didn't react to being named second.
"I called this meeting to discuss the urgent status of the HPG." I let my eye slightly narrow. What were they up to?
"I assume its related to the price changes this evening?" Janos responded with an almost stern voice. There it was again. A flash of the Eagle. Precentor Atreus straightened slightly in his seat. Better him than me dealing with an irate House Lord.
Price changes? I didn't hear anything about that. Then again, the news was filled with news of angry Parliament members screaming at each other. A body called the Lords of the Realm was making a lot of the noise, but I couldn't find formal mentions of it in the League Constitution. I quickly placed an order for someone to scan through Atreus' local data network. I suspected it, but now I had confirmation that this destabilization was their work. Especially the exposure of our appearance to the public.
"That is correct Captain-General. I regret to inform you both that the HPG on Atreus is undergoing incredible strain." he said, pointedly not looking at me. A graph appeared next to his face. The x and y axis were labeled time (marked in hours) and total data respectively. The line was sharply ascending. "Over the last 24 hours, over 220,000 priority messages alone have been sent through our installation. The overall number of regular messages has increased by 38%." He explained with a hint of worry.
"That does not include that we upcoming zettabytes of data that will need to be transmitted in the coming weeks." Janos' brow furrowed slightly. It wouldn't be long before he realized that I was responsible for a great deal of that upcoming data. The Precentor didn't single me out no doubt due to our privacy clause, which he was absolutely bending with this.
I doubted he would outright reveal me, since that would incentivize me to turn around and reveal the data I had sent to Comstar. If I raised the issue, he would probably note how he had contractual duties to the Free Worlds League
{+}Emotion-Scanner: Unable to assess facial data.{+} I closed the program before it unhelpfully suggested I get closer. The digital format made facial analysis too unclear.
[Because of the panic messaging or were you holding real-time sessions?] Not that I could ask that. People weren't supposed to know Comstar had that capability this whole time.
"While we have replacement parts on route to Atreus, it is still 2 months before their next planned maintenance schedule." Did they not have replacement parts on site? Or would that lead to him saying they already burned through them? Would he admit to that?
Janos still appeared calm, but I imagine with a few more pushes he could erupt. Pushes like hearing the HPG might go down, crippling his nation. My presence would only distract him.
Do I intrude into the conversation? Janos' hands must be tied with me watching him. Or was that planned? If I didn't help Janos, that was a potential grudge against me. If I opposed Comstar, they might just escalate.
"I assume you wish for the Adeptus Mechanicus to temporarily transfer to the Terra system?" I said. That was the game. Leverage the HPG to force a specific response from us. I expected spycraft or uncomfortable political scandals, not trying to sink the Free Worlds League. This was an uncomfortable escalation. One they knew they couldn't do too often.
He'd admitted Comstar can't meet its contractual obligations to two Heads of State. If this got out…
Janos looked like his face was craved from granite. I'd need to give him something after all of the negatives he'd experienced today. Nothing that would make him look weak in front of his people. Something concrete to make Parliament stand in line. He'd see through it, but having me be the only source of positive news should be an advantage.
The Precentor nodded. "The Terra system's station is far more robust at handling this rise in traffic. Rest assured, as the initial panic settles, we should see reduced activity." I ignored the barb at my announcement. Now, do I make him work for it?
For the next few minutes, he made his arguments.
He noted how we were the only experts on the aliens, our first hand experience was vital. I gave him that, even though I wouldn't say it out loud. It was rather greedy of the Free Worlds League to have majority access to our knowledge. Pedrigor assured us Terra could easily assume the traffic from 5 all Houses and the Periphery. My message was turned back on me. If this matter was so dangerous, all of mankind should receive the information equally.
He then went on to note that being on Terra would significantly shorten the time needed actually plan out the summit. Thankfully, I had already informed Janos of my desires during the break. Again, the argument was logical. The time delay between Terra and Atreus was on average 36 hours. Time that quickly built up. A few more weeks, and the imbalance of knowledge was going to really show.
In the meantime, I considered my options.
On Atreus, the people didn't like me. I stay, the governmental bodies continue to argue, and I distract Janos from getting his people in line. The Houses grow more uncomfortable. Comstar continues to play its games to make things worse.
If I leave, Comstar lets off on the pressure on the Free Worlds government, switching to myself. I had more than enough items to keep ROM busy for months. The Houses will make their move. Relations between the Adeptus Mechanicus and Free Worlds League appear to take a turn for the worse. More potential for disorder and unrest.
Either outcome sees Janos blamed. An irrational or Omnissiah forbid, dethroned, Captain-General inhibits my chances of legally securing Helm. Which is why I was bothering with this whole show.
"We are currently in talks with the Free Worlds League. The Adeptus Mechanicus would prefer to finish them before proceeding to Terra. Captain-General, your thoughts?" I deferred back to him.
"I urge you both to reconsider. Perhaps you can continue discussions on Terra?" The Precentor asked before Janos could respond.
"I agree with the Chief-Fabricator." Janos stated. At the resulting frown, Janos leaned back. "How much will HPG rates rise if activity continues to rise, say to 200%?" I mentally boggled at that. Not even going to hide it. How much was Comstar going to make his nation pay for this?
Precentor Aliz made a show of doing some sort of calculation on his side. He called over an aide. After a short, whispered exchange, he turned back to us.
"If such extraordinary traffic were to occur, approximately a 20% rise for priority messages. At least 10% on non-priority daytime rates. Night rates would increase to 15% and activity would have to be significantly reduced." I killed the nerve impulse to my eye before it widened in shock. Not just priority, but day to day messages? The economy would collapse. Just the increase in cost would discourage people from sending more messages, slowing down his nation.
The cost would send them into a Depression. Now that he said it, Comstar was going to charge it. And with Steiner and Liao at the border, I'd probably be pulled into a shooting war when it gets violent. It wouldn't even need to be their direct forces. An overzealous mercenary command or lord. With such high stakes, even nuclear weapons wouldn't be off the table…
The Fourth Succession War would begin. Contacting the Clans for reinforcements would only delay the inevitable. The Primary Objective would fail. The noosphere shifted at stray calculations leaking from my mind. Cascading Failure.
To his credit, Janos only briefly paused at the potential numbers. I was only half paying attention as I calculated the sheer scale of this worst case outcome.
Then the Precentor came in for the kill. "I must add, with such high amounts of traffic, the HPG would likely shut down before long. By our current estimates, if we continue to assume such high levels of traffic, there's only enough spare parts available for the next 5 months."
"I assure you," he addressed both of us. "Comstar understands the gravity of this situation. Both the strain on the HPG, and the potential alien threat. However, with this increase in traffic we face a challenge to ensure continued stability. We have no interest in allowing preventable disasters to fall on the Inner Sphere."
He changed his approach after our continued silence. "I will add that should the Adeptus Mechanicus temporarily move to Terra, we would be willing to waive the increased costs entirely on the Free Worlds League, and substantially lower rates on Atreus. To below the previous rates." He amended at Janos' unimpressed look.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus would also enjoy a 20% decrease on planned rates for the next 6 months. I act with the Order's authority, and these changes will occur." He reluctantly added. 20%? Running the numbers…approximately 610 thousand C-bills for this month alone. Easily millions with the sheer amount of data I would send. The ork files alone reached extabytes, painfully bought with the blood of my people-
{+}Emotion-Regulator: Surge Detected. Activating.{+}
Fine. I dropped the line of thought before it could send me down a spiral.
As part of our agreement with Comstar, we had to estimate the data we would be transmitting on a yearly basis. Our initial estimate was a 10 exabytes. We had an entire Imperium's techbase to transfer, and had to choose the most usable technologies. Representative Miles didn't refuse, but flatly told me only the Primus could approve of an amount that large. He also admitted it would require substantial infrastructure for the intended route, implying the data would only go along an agreed upon route, and not outside of it.
The Captain-General considered the options before him. "You are certain the HPG would go down if the situation is not resolved?" He directly asked, subtly enunciating each word. An irritated scowl covered his face, his brow furrowing down.
I couldn't determine if this was a performance or if his patience was finally coming to an end. He had control of his emotions before, but would that survive what was effectively a 2nd potential Comstar interdiction?
"Absolutely." Predrigor emphasized with what appeared to be genuine regret. I didn't know either of them enough to read their mannerisms, but it seemed the Precentor didn't believe it was an act.
The Eagle's face twisted in some measure of distaste, before it disappeared.
"Very well. In light of this potential crisis, I will be open to continuing our talks at another time." He stated with finality, composure returned. I still wasn't sure if it was an act. "Chief-Fabricator Malcador?"
"If the Captain-General agrees," I said, keeping my voice steady, "I shall waive my arguments against relocating to Terra."
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Hanger #3 "Heavy Loading"
Late-Evening
There was much to do before I departed. The state of affairs between the Adeptus Mechanicus and Free Worlds League needed stabilization. Clear results to appease the public and Parliament. Not to mention the beginnings of Diplomatic channels.
I requested the Captain-General and I meet again for a final discussion before the Indomitable Spirit made way for Terra. I made sure to mention that I had more materials/information to transfer, wished to reaffirm our alliance, and asked what location he would prefer. I sent the exact details on a private channel. The protests for tonight had somewhat died down as the capital security broke it up and people turned in for the night.
The media was still running the story at full speed. Janos hadn't declared martial law, so they could keep airing with few restrictions.
He proposed coming aboard the Indomitable Spirit, then I would come down to Parliament before leaving. I accepted the compromise. He would entrust me with his safety, and vis versa.
There was much to do, and little time.
Janos came onboard the Indomitanle Spirit in a Dictator class dropship, bearing the markings of House Marik. He was polite guest, taking in the vast scale of the Indomitable Spirit's largest hanger.
A stockpile of materials was presented for his inspection. By any standard, a valuable prize, worthy of a House Lord. Easily worth billions of Imperial Thrones. Priceless to the Free Worlds League. But for House Marik alone, at no cost, with required maintenance and upkeep notes.
He beheld the following gifts with the appropriate thanks and polite awe. I was initially worried he had become to used to my people when he didn't balk at the size of the supply.
The ironstider managed to breach his composure as I explained the true value of the machine. Energy efficiency approaching perpetual motion. A feat beyond the Star League's works. My short mention of the lost secrets of the machine was noticed.
The near impossible feat of engineering had broken through his facade, and he accepted the design documents with what appeared to be genuine thanks. And of course, two working ironstriders, as proof of my claim.
We made way for the labs.
Janos Marik, and his guards observed the orks held prisoner aboard. They saw for themselves the savagery and brutish nature of our opposition. Twenty specimens were selected for transfer, their furious bellows pausing as the stasis fields activated.
Material matters concluded, we went to sit down for a long discussion.
He raised his objections for recklessly sharing our technological secrets, mentioning how the likes of Maximillian Liao and others like him would were not rational people. That they could easily turn my weapons upon our alliance if they believed it worth the risk. After all, the Chancellor had an internation reputation for treachery.
To that, I revealed the lostech nature of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Janos requested I explain. There was only time for a brief summary of the faked history. Of how centuries ago, before the age of war even, the Ancestors departed for the deep deep periphery. In the dark void of space, they discovered a trio of alien warships. They concealed themselves as the Age of War began, retreating deeper into uncharted territory. To their surprise, they found multiple species onboard,
From those derelict vessels, we uncovered technological secrets surpassing the Star League. Deeper and deeper we explored, leaving mankind behind in our search for more.
At some point, we harnessed the power of artificial intelligence, and our technology surged even further ahead. Before the Fleet, we settled worlds like any other. Our territory was supposedly large, far from the borders of the Periphery. Our power was even greater. I admitted that the Adeptus Mechanicus of now was a pitiful sample of the wonders and horrors of that age.
We strode atop the galaxy, and nothing was beyond our grasp.…Until the Rebellion of the Men of Iron. We had strayed too far. Pursued science and advancement at the cost of all other ethics and moral. The Warp, the realm of which we derived out FTL-travel was more insidious than it seemed. Reckless usage culminated in a corruption, as our military might turned upon us.
A great conflict that saw entire sectors of space permanently changed. It was a fall from grace unlike any other. Our understanding collapsed, as the machines that once built and maintained our technology turned against us.
The Ancestors shattered, fragmenting into their own small factions, among them, the predecessor to the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Mechanicum. We called it The Fall. In the face of this rebellion, and the fall of our unity, an Imperium emerged. Swearing to fight back the abominable intelligence.
The Emperor and 18 sons beat back the darkness, and our people were at his right hand in those times. My people's culture turned inward, worshipping the Ancient Ancestors; as the masters of all that could have been. To divert from their ways was heresy.
It was a stance that allowed us to survive the Second Fall. Upon its victory, the Imperium collapsed under its weight, as the Emperor and his sons waged a violent civil war. Only few of our people hid as the Legions razed everything to ash.
Again, we had torn ourselves apart in conflict, and thus did the founders of the Adeptus Mechanicus desperately strike out, destroying the surviving sons and their armies, weakened from constant war with one another. We then it took upon ourselves to patrol our ruined section of space, to remain vigilant for remnants of the Men of Iron or the Imperium. And in the meantime, fix what had been done. For over 100 years, silence...
Then, we found signs of alien life. We found hope, that perhaps we could follow in the Ancestor's footsteps. Twenty long years passed as we searched. Soon, we triangulated the origin to a set of planets. And the rest was history…
Our religion collapsed in the face of such doom. Only now, after centuries of stagnation did we cautiously step forward again. The collective work of hundreds of thousands.
I explained it quickly, more 15 sentence description than a proper accounting of the history. Comstar was going to ask, and I decided to share it now. A copy of the Codex was given.
The secrets of that age would not come easily. For they were made by minds literally to inhuman for us to understand. Without us, they would quickly fall behind. It will be a work lasting millennia.
To prove it, I had a second data core filled with data presented to him. Additional samples were added to the stockpile. Twenty digital weapons, 10 working and 10 used. Only 312 working models remained in my procession after that. Digital weapons were actually made by Jokaero, but he couldn't possibly know that. Besides, it was a perfect example of impossible technology alongside the ironstrider. As long as he shared whatever he found, I would be happy to transfer it to him.
He was cautious at my challenge. Still, he accepted it.
Then began a brief, but intense bought of negotiations. This wasn't at all what either of us wanted, but we needed a plan hammered out to at least go forward for the next few weeks.
He wanted me to make a public statement on our alliance. In exchange, he would publicly acknowledge the alien threat. That was simple enough. Accepted and done.
With such a rapid moving environment, he wanted an anchor, some form of security that would be dissolved if my actions and words were true. I refused to have any of my people, not even an ambassador stay on Atreus. To that he suggested a credit line. Five billion Marik Eagles (4.487 Billion C-bills). Straight from House Marik's vast fortunes. He had the audacity to write the check out in front of me. The Adeptus Mechanicus would be free to spend it wherever we liked, and the money would not be owed at all so long as our alliance held. If we broke our word, it would horribly damage our reputation, and we could most certainly say goodbye to peacefully securing the cores.
My mind spun as I calculated all the supplies I could buy. Six months of operation became years, if invested well. I could stretch that money a great deal. The sheer number of projects I could finish. Still, I hesitated. That was my first blunder. I couldn't conceal my disbelief, and was unable to maintain an illusion of being unimpressed. Janos suppressed a smirk, but he knew I knew he had an in.
Then, the madman upped the ante. Ten. Billion. Eagles. Fifteen if I shared the location of the lesser core to begin planning. Years of supplies became decades. Naturally, he promised not to go anywhere near it until our next meeting. I had to give in. Defeated on this one point, I accepted. New Dallas, and the complete file on how to locate and access the cache were handed to him.
As harrowing as it was, and no doubt he wanted to sink his talons in me, holding the check in my hands calmed me. The war effort was secured. My people would not die, cold, hungry, and resourceless.
I wanted to extend ceasefire and extensive technology exchange offers. I admitted it could be the start of the new international organization. Peace, in our time. Unity against the threat. Janos Marik wanted high profile items struck from the list. Grav-weapons. Heavy duty cybernetics. Only the very best patterns of rejuvanent. Warship technology. Technologies that gave significant tactical or strategic advantages. I could agree with that, to an extent. However, his final request regarding technology was too far. He wanted to open talks on Warptech between us.
That was the first real hurdle. I had to deny the sharing of all warptech, unless the vast majority of mankind could come together. It caused no less than 3 civils wars among my people. Janos politely disagreed, but was smart enough not to insult the Adeptus Mechanicus' history by dismissing it. We bounced ideas back and forth for 32 minutes.
I was willing to concede more of the cache, up to 90% of the materials, alongside 40 knight platforms of his choosing. If need be I would build factories for him. He was willing to hand over entire worlds, opening with an offer for 3 lucrative planets. A counteroffer for a Titan and right to transportation was rejected. It got a point where I willing to detach 5 of the Indomitable Spirit's energy lances and hand them over to the Free Worlds League.
The terms were becoming too rich for my liking, and thankfully we settled down after that.
The Captain-General wanted the alternative means of faster than light travel. He saw a new ceiling on vessel tonnage, size, and ability to jump vast distances. My remark that the laws of physics broke down when utilizing the warp had not gone unnoticed. The Eagle saw power, and coveted it.
Eventually, I had to pull out one of my few, precious aces. I wrote a prize and my conditions on a slip of paper and handed it to him. He raised a brow at it, before dismissing his guards and staff. His brows raised at the prize I allegedly had. I imagine that must have been one of the most outrageous claims he had ever heard of in his life, even considering my mad raving about aliens.
Even with my willingness to show proof whenever demanded, he couldn't quite believe this. He requested a sample. I obliged. Five were surrendered into his possession. Priceless prizes, that if right, would change everything he knew. Instructions, and files were forwarded to him.
As he beheld the evidence, he tangentially agreed to the terms. Upon recovery of both cores and the cache, it would be transferred to his people. If I was true, I would also build 20 factories for him and his people. It would be child's play to have it done, so I agreed.
Many of the suggested restrictions would come to pass. Only to go their hands if they agreed to unity before the alien threat. No doubt Janos' disbelieved it would happen any time soon. He won either way. If they didn't agree, that was power firmly in his hands. If they agreed, it would still take time, time he would use to gain a solid advantage, backed with my unceasing technological research. And he would gain access to warptech as well.
A heavy price, but he would not openly reach for the warp. In the depth of the Indomitable Spirit, I had the security measures increased tenfold. In some ways, it would be a good thing. Another to shoulder the blame, when I refused to give such potent technology unless mankind truly stood together.
We had long since run over the planned time. Unrest was growing, and his allies were struggling to hold off his political opponents, but much had been done. Captain-Janos Marik has assembled quite the formidable political warchest. The matter was closed for now. We would discuss it further. On Terra.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus City
Atreus City Spaceport
Late Evening
The public watched as the Dictator and 'Lander' class dropships landed across from each other. A small army occupied the launch site, as no small number of Federal and House Marik troops maintained a very visible presence. A strange vessel in the far distance landed on the edge of the pad, over 800 meters away from their dropships. It was tall, far taller than any dropship seen in the Inner Sphere. More a building than a dropship. A strange foreign phrase was emblazoned on its side, written in a language they had never seen.
Live news coverage was granted to the many news agencies across agencies. Small flashes of light filled the air as the media took pictures. News crews were allowed within a safe distance from the dropships. Families across the world tuned on their TV's in search of answers. Bars and public gathering places were crowded as the people eagerly awaited news. The agents of foreign states watched as their competitor make its next move.
Both dropships opened their bay-doors.
The Captain-General's Dictator disgorged a small horde of infantry. The famed Eagle Corps made their way down. Followed out by four Awesome assault mechs. At the center of the formation, Janos Marik himself. More perceptive witnesses spied a strange necklace on the Captain-General. An icon of the League's symbol. In the days to come, after much scrutiny, analysts would note traces of strange flickers in the air around him.
A large group of Free Worlds League mechs gathered around the building like dropship. Excited children gawked at the parade of assault mechs on display.
The Lander, a foreign dropship, lowered a simple ramp. The cameras flashed, trying to pierce the unnatural black gloam of its interiors. Strange green armored soldiers marched down in two rows. The camera zoomed in on group ten metal grey giants that walked behind them. They towered above the men in front of them. Their leader, bearing a cape and sword of all things was head and shoulders above a normal human being. Strange drones floated around them, scanning the air around them.
A red robed figure made it ways down. They bore a staff taller than themselves, ending in half of a sharped gear. Their features were obscured by a blank metal mask.
Finally, two towering battlemechs emerged. They walked with a strange grace. More akin to a man than the methodical gait of a battlemech. They bore unknown weapons, large cannons with glowing blue bodies. One of them bore a harpoon and the other a massive flamethrower.
To the crowd's surprise, the spire-dropship's bay opened like a vast gate. An IFF tag flared on the radar, 'Ion Rex'. Infrared cameras registered a massive heat spike inside the dropship. And then…
The cameras erupted in a blinding flash, as it stepped out.
It was too big to be a mech. Too big, too heavy, and too vast. It was more like a metal giant. Stamp. Came a foot on the reinforced ferrocrete. The tarmac, meant for dropships, shuddered as its weight.
Deep mechanical clicks echoed in the air as the escorting battlemechs tried to keep pace with its ponderous stride. Click. Click. Click. An Atlas walking next to the giant machine didn't even reach its knees.
Its head jutted out from its torso, neck guarded by thick plates of armor. A single blue eye blazed out from behind its helmeted visage. Gargantuan shoulders flanked the battlemech's head. Searchlights from hovercraft cast its menacing silhouette in light.
Stamp.
Triple barreled cannons sat atop its shoulders and each arm ended in a single, gargantuan cannon. The people could only gawk as the titan marched.
Stamp.
There was an aged air to the machine. The iconography seemed ancient, worn down by the elements and time, not by conflict or war.
Neither the Captain-General or the masked stranger seemed to care for colossus making way for them, continuing their journey to the midpoint of between them.
Stamp.
It came to a stop 20 meters away. Banners unfurled from its arm cannons. On the left, the purple Eagle Free Worlds League. On the right, the grey cog of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Even still so far away, it loomed over both the Captain-General and the stranger.
The two came to a stop, only a meter away. Janos Marik exuded a calm air, unflinching in the shadow of the giant. For a moment, they stayed silent, watching the other. It was the stranger who moved first, unmasking for the Inner Sphere to see. The camera caught every morbid detail.
Across Atreus, people paid rapt attention as the rumors proved true, that these-these mechanical freaks were on their planet.
"Chief-Fabricator Malcador," Janos Marik stated, voice ringing out from the giant's back. The audio quality was superb, as if he was right before the viewer. There wasn't a visible microphone, how was he-
"I have heard your claims, and find them true." The people recoiled. What? Did the Captain-General really believe them?
"Yet, in the face of such trying news, and times to come, I have found a friend." He said, extending his hand. The towering cyborg stepped forward, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.
"As are we, Captain-General Janos Marik." The now named Malcador stated in a robotic voice. His mechanical eye rotated once in its socket.
"We, of the Adeptus Mechanicus, are gladdened you see the truth in our words. I am glad to have the Free Worlds League as an ally. It is a shame our meeting has been cut short, but matters of state call us to Terra." He proclaimed.
"Yet we will not leave our newfound allies without the tools to prepare for this threat." On that word, a train of hovercraft departed the lander. On them, exposed for all to see, were supplies of foreign goods. Racks of weapons. Suites of armor. Crates of vials and medicine. Carefully arranged boxes of the drones hovering around Malcador's men. More importantly, to the witnesses' shock, what could only a massive data core sat on the final craft.
From the Captain-General's side, large cargo haulers came forward.
Both Heads of State stood aside as the exchange ensued. Pairs of workers placed strange metal sheets in front of the Adeptus Mechanicus battlemechs. Both machines legs' locked in place, before powering down. Their pilots exited out of the top of their steeds, before simply…stepping off on ledge.
Instead of falling to their deaths, they descended slowly, as if gravity was only a fraction of its strength. To the public's awe, the two gently landed, and handed what appeared to be keys and keycards to the Chief-Fabricator. Who then handed them to the Captain-General.
A table was placed between the two. Two documents of some kind were placed on it. Media agencies struggled to gain a proper view of the papers. They both signed the papers, each taking one.
"I shall await your arrival on Terra, Captain-General." Malcador concluded. Janos Marik nodded his head in agreement, before his newfound allies departed for their dropship.
The colossus turned away, returning to its tower like vessel, the banners of both states waving in the wind. Atreus' people watched as history was made, as their nation entered a new era.
Soon enough, the Adeptus Mechanicus ascended back to the skies, followed by a dropship from Free Worlds League and Comstar.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus System
Orbit
Late Evening
They watched as the Indomitable Spirit slowly pulled away. Dropship captains. The Free Worlds military. Scientists planetwide. News networks were running a live broadcast to Atreus. Spies; House, Periphery, Wolve's Dragoons and Comstar. Anyone with a telescope in the right hemisphere. In a week, the footage would reach most of human space.
Small thrusters underneath the front of the ship slowly pushed the vessel upwards. The FWL escort pulled away as the warship's main engines activated. Observers could make out movement across the colossal ship. Bulkheads sealed, minor guns rescinded back into the ship, viewports closed and its own ASF escort withdrew into its hangers.
And to many's shock, the small city now in view resting atop the ship itself. Gleaming towers of gunmetal gray protruded from the rear of the ship, just before the engines.
The ungainly ship slowly accelerated away. 4,500 kilometers from Atreus. 10,000 kilometers. 50,000 kilometers. At 80,000 kilometers away, the "warp jump" began. The space in front of the ship began to glow purple and pink.
The void of space split. As if someone had taken a knife and cut it away. The gap clawed itself open and grew into a haphazard circle, over 6 kilometers in diameter. The opening in real-space heaved with movement, like a roiling ocean. Flickers of purple lightning crept out from the sudden gap in space before disappearing.
A shimmering field suddenly flared to life over the ship. Slowly, the Indomitable Spirit made way for the portal. The field flickered and sparked at the lightning danced over it. As it finally made contact, the ship seemed to stretch in a blur-
-and the portal snapped shut. Blackness. As if nothing was ever there. The Free Worlds League military moved in to secure the site.
Captain-General Janos Marik briefly studied the empty space in his command center, before dismissing the feed. It was almost humbling, to know that the Indomitable Spirit was already at Terra. The escorts now investigators reported strange readings on their scanners.
They would meet again. The Adeptus Mechanicus wanted that data core, almost as much as he did. Instead of seizing the cache and simply depositing the core, they had come to him to ask. As long as they desired the legitimacy of obtaining it through diplomacy and good relations, he could continue to make gains.
He departed for the first of many meetings with Parliament. The delivery of technology had increased his standing, even if it didn't go according to plan. Only having the secondary core was grating, but he couldn't afford to alienate such a powerful ally. At least they had softened the blow by accepting his line of credit. And what a prize he had received in exchange for it.
The Free Worlds League now possessed incredible new technologies. The signed promise of alliance, sat in a locked briefcase by his side.
His generals, scientists and even Parliament were chomping at the bit to gain access to the data and clamored for his attention. They wanted it, but he had complete control over the data and one of cores' location. Everything was in his hands. It was hard to suppress his smile. This kind of leverage over Parliament rarely came.
It was time to begin cementing his newfound emergency powers.
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Terra System
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Early Morning
The warp jump ended as quickly as it started. We exited the Atreus system, and the Indomitable emerged from the warp. Sensors and all stations reported all clears.
And there it was. A mere 700,000 kilometers away. Glittering in the void of space. As expected, it was very different from home, far more spacecraft. Much more activity, this was the physical center of human civilization. Yet, despite all of that, I could skill recognize it.
Terra. Once throne of the Star League and Cameron Dynasty, now Comstar's.
Holy Terra. The capital of a galaxy spanning Imperium.
Earth. The home that was not.
The universe of battletech had changed long before my parents had been born, let alone myself. Any of my peers, friends or acquaintances, really. By all counts, it was an entirely different universe.
Still, I expected to feel the temptation. To use the incredible authority at my fingertips to look for things that could not exist. I could have infiltrators on Terra within the day. Two, if I wanted to ensure Comstar would never find out. I opened my emotion regulator. Searching for a reaction. A spark of longing. Desire. Anger. I would even settle for sadness. Anything.
Nothing came. It was close, but it wasn't home.
Hmmm. Archmagos Tan-Logatian was right after all. My memory bank opened as I recalled the data for the exact quote. It had been such a long time since we had that talk…
{=}Accessing memory logs.{=}
{+}Tan-Logatian: Fabricator-General. Just as this Mars has no Ring of Iron, Noctus Labyrnth, grand manufactorums, or hard-won scars of victory, this 'Earth' is nothing like yours. It is familiar, but lacks the spirit. To appeal to your remaining inhibitory flesh, it is a foreign port, with similar weather and appearance, but no true ties to your home. The spiritual weight of history and familiarity is absent.{+}
I could see what he meant. As I peered through the sensor data, I could see the differences. This Terra was too different. Far to advanced compared to Earth. The ISS was a toy compared to some of the stations in system. It was rather ironic that I was from the least technologically advanced civilization in this universe, leading the Mechanicus.
I surveyed the Terra again. Clearly Comstar had spared no expense in their safekeeping of Terra. By Imperium and Mechanicus standards, aside from the scale and lack of defenses, this was a very well-maintained planetary capital.
Glistening space stations sat in Terra orbit. Tens of dropships came and went from the surface. Close surface scans showed sprawling cities larger than anything back home. Actual planet-side mega-engineering. I saw only few large scale signs of the damage from the Amaris Coup and Succession Wars. Peaceful. Productive. [Just like Holy Terra, this Terra held the unique trait of being nominally safe from invasion…] Well, at least until the Clan Invasion, but still. Centuries of almost guaranteed safety.
It would be an interesting trip. To explore and view another planetary capital. My journey to Atreus was a mere 3 days, and most of it stuck at the North Pole. I suspected this trip was going to be much longer. What would I see in visits between meetings with the Primus? It could be an excellent way to relax if it became too frustrating.
I paused as I considered the new and old landmarks I could visit. The futuristic changes I would see. The old magaos was right.
{+}Tan-Logatian: Potential of emotional distress = low. Likely abundance of novel experience will override your observed perception threshold. Behavior coincides with adaption to drastic change in surroundings. Final conclusion: Fully engage in the experience. Attaching analysis.{+} Order concluded, the archmagos returned to their work. Tan-Logatian's presence in the noosphere greatly diminished.
Wait a minute…
Did…did Tan-Logatian think I was too much of a bumpkin to be depressed on seeing Terra? Uh. Wow.
Insult(?) aside, this was a nice surprise. I was worried thinking about home would distract me before my most difficult diplomatic venture yet. I'd hoped that I would have time to cut my teeth on the Free Worlds League and communications with other polities. Would it end in blood? Would it end in peace? Dare I hope for understanding and co-operation?
{+}Communications: Chief-Fabricator, we have received approach instructions from Comstar.{+}
"Acknowledged, send confirmation."
"Make way for Terra." I commanded, feeling the throne slightly shudder as the engines came to life.
[-----------------]
[Chapter 5:TechNolLG-Error-Unsteady Footing End]
End Notes:
February 4, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Afternoon
The jetbikes had done well. Those were not an improved design, like the earlier grav-chutes. If the improved models were toeing the line, these new jetbikes were an actual crime by most interpretations of Martian law. Thank you Cawl for your rampant tech heresy.
While most of the personnel onboard took notes of your designs just to persecute you, I appreciated it. It made innovating much easier. And it was amusing how certain techpriets and magos dissected his work and theories under the guise of exactly pointing out how he had diverged from accepted work. And of course, as a record condemning heresy it should remain mostly undeleted, in case they needed make a similar case in the future…
"I am curious," Janos commented. "Has there been any work on applying grav-plating to your drop-pod technology?" He asked as the jetbikes rumbled out of view. The grav-weapon demonstration was going to begin in soon.
"Yes. There was consideration towards further integration of grav propelled drop pods, for both infantry and battlemechs, but we are considering utilizing stasis technology as well." I answered, leaning forward in my chair. The seating made a small sound of complaint. Ah. I made a note to add more cushioning to my robes or reduce my weight.
He thought for a moment, before responding. "You want to stasis drop pods in air just before they land?"
{+}Emotion Scanner: High amounts of interest. Low amounts of annoyance. Estimated 52% Accuracy.{+} Annoyance again, but at what?
"That is correct. With appropriate calibration, it is possible for a stasis field to temporarily envelope its emitter, thus freezing it in place. Stasis fields can also be configured to stop momentum. We are still conducting research to reliably produce high endurance stasis fields for rapid deployment from orbit."
Janos quietly hummed. "Your current drop pods allow your forces to deploy from orbit. Around 18,000 kilometers." He recalled, citing the information I had sent him 2 days ago. Another drink to wet his throat before he continued. "That would be incredible, Chief-Fabricator. It would remove the need for heavy thrusters on the pod. You could even mount them on the top for acceleration. Aside from course corrections, there'd be no limit on how quickly you could deploy planetside, if I understand it correctly."
"Your analysis is correct Captain-General. The research is slow, but it is a high priority at this time." Misfiring stasis fields had a chance of craving new tunnels in the Indomitable Spirit, and we only stopped at a handful of worlds to do planetside testing. Acquiring planetside research facilities would accelerate the process.
His eyes widened slightly. "That wouldn't be the only application, would it? If you could stasis a drop pod's momentum, what else could you apply it to?" There was a rising interest in his voice. That was both assuring and worrying that he had realized it so quickly. It was good to have a competent ally, if Janos decided to be my ally.
"Projectiles Large vehicles. Missiles. Other large objects. Capital Weaponry. Warships. Perhaps even heat itself, it is only movement." He hypothesized, carefully watching me for a reaction.
I gave him a honest nod.
"I must say Chief-Fabricator, when I read the report on stasis technology, this was not what I was expecting." Janos finished with what seemed to be a mostly genuine look of amazement. I took a moment to think on our situation.
This was an important moment between the two of us. The true realization of how far ahead the Mechanicus were. Not just words on a page or that we simply built bigger. Was it enough to do something? How should I use it? Friendship between the two of us. A step towards true alliance. Humphery's had helped found the League with it. Can I use it?
Do I confirm his suspicions and reveal the final intended use for it? They were out there. Ork supercapital ships. Behemoth. Leviathan. Goliath. Still rampaging across the stars. The only ork vessels the Indomitable Spirit could not destroy in direct combat.
Mutual profit? Invite his nation to help study stasis tech? Jump him to Step 3 in The Plan? That was how other earthlings did things here. Blitz their chosen House Lord with lucrative offers with little apparent risk. It was working so far.
I nodded. "Correct on all accounts Captain-General. That is indeed what we plan to use them for in the far future. However, it will likely take years before the technology can be considered battlefield ready. While I have neglected to discuss it thus far, this technology would be most certainly included in the joint research program I wish to start." I directly offered, opening the topic.
Janos gave me a picture-perfect smile. Not too open, but not faked either. Almost an exact copy of some of his much earlier speeches in office. He seemed to have unaged a few years with that alone. My scanner noted an increased heart rate.
"I wished to do the same. What would your terms be?" The cup was placed to his side. A secretary discreetly stepped closer with a clipboard and pen. No, make that two.
"Extensive joint transfer of scientific knowledge and data. Any advancements made will be freely shared between our states. Joint collaborations to advance our nation's knowledge and interests." Not total. I would need to make that clear soon without offending him.
I dialed down my audio sensitivity at the faint scratching of pens on paper.
Janos paused momentarily. "An extremely open offer Chief-Fabricator. What does the Adeptus Mechanicus desire in exchange?" He didn't acknowledge the technological disparity. That was expected. I wouldn't give that kind of leverage either. It was a shame I couldn't do the same. Outright lying would only cause more trouble in the future.
"The ability to include other nations in similar, but more limited agreements. It would be ideal if results from these joint studies find their way to all participating States." I opened with. He should be able to decode that. No further payment required from his nation beyond the previously discussed cores. An implication of peace, but the FWL would have a much more appealing deal. Nations only, not entities. Similar, not identical. Limited, not total. Ideal, not mandatory. Discoveries would be shared amongst all members.
Constraining terms, but it shouldn't be unacceptable.
Janos' face didn't shift. His posture remained the same, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Something distant. Something stern and unyielding. It was there for only a brief instant before it disappeared. The Old Eagle returned to the pleasant older man.
Don't tell me I found an emotional landmine.
This was an unpleasant surprise. My initial understanding of Janos as a person was flawed. We had planned for the temptation of our technology and a defense treaty to be enough to hold his tongue.
"Will the Adeptus Mechanicus extend this offer substantially?" Came the cautious question.
"No, we remain committed to the terms. You will retain first access and will we not disburse technology to states that would oppose our goal of preparation. They will have to sign peace terms." An easy truth to give away. I was committed and would abide by it. His people were already set to receive it. Dozens of ambassadors had received my offer. Comstar wasn't going to reveal something like the data I had given them. Besides, it was nowhere near my total technology base.
Even then, the cease-fire terms I was going to present were going to take months to settle. More than enough time for Marik to believe it was gaining a considerable advantage.
"My people and I would be greatly reassured if there was further consideration on the matter. I believe a disorderly distribution would cause unneeded disruptions." He politely suggested.
Consideration. A tasteful way of wording his request. He wanted a say in what the other Houses would get. More politics. Potentially acceptable if managed. More political capital would be welcome. I logged it for later review.
I was toeing a line. Not the point of no return, but it could strain the delicate state of affairs. He had just implicitly not rejected peace with the other House Lords.
More importantly, it wasn't a direct refusal. I couldn't go outright ask him what he wanted to keep exclusively, that would be too direct. Dropping it wouldn't be the right way of leaving the subject. Denial would be too excessive.
"I concur. An unorderly distribution could pose a risk of causing more harm than good. However, the strategic situation is tenuous. Of the 8 worlds we have found, they alone produce tens of billions of them, per year. During our raids, we accomplished overwhelming disparity in casualties inflicted. We estimate they have already been replaced the losses." I reminded him.
"Additionally, their fleet greatly outmasses humanity's. There is no telling when they will discover mankind's location."
"I agree with your threat assessment, Chief-Fabricator. Your work towards Operation Alexandria and the Black Coast Protocol is nothing but extensive. I doubt some of my peers look as long term or as extensively as your people have in the past months. That said, I do have concerns." Janos protested, briefly nodding his head in agreement.
A brief wave of excited murmurs grabbed our attention. The air filled with a familiar suppressed conspiratorial tone, just barely suppressing its greed and interest. A tone I suspect I was going to have to get used to going forward. A pair of Giants pushing grav-sleds laden with no small number grav-weapons and needed equipment marched through the snow. The 4 archmagos and imperial guardsman behind them following in the furrows they left.
The target dummies were already prepared. Realistic human mannequins, blocks of metal, a faithful rendition of an industrial mech's cockpit, and provided realistic ork dummies.
Janos claimed he was looking forward to this section. Best not to spoil it too much. "I acknowledge your concerns. Shall we discuss them during the break?" It was set for around 3pm after the delays. Enough time to finish the grav-weapon demonstration and tease the adamantium armor.
The various grav-weapons were placed on stands or a table. Marik guardsmen stood next to the techpriests as they finished the preparations. Both would be using the gathered spread of weapons.
The large screen showing the field zoomed in, splitting into the weapons and the targets.
An archmagos gave a thumbs up to the FWL's guardsmen as he confirmed their state on the Noosphere. The crowd buzzed with excitement. To my right, Janos leaned forward.
It was time.
One of the archmagos, Quegox, stepped forward bearing a simple grav-rifle. Once a prized possession of an adept now long gone. A simple human target dummy standing 2 meters behind a solid metal wall. The Archmagos lined the shot, braced his frame and-
The air shook with a bass rumble as the green stream of gravitons arced over the metal. Then again. With a shriek the sheet's edges began to twist in at least 3 directions. Its center frayed, pieces tearing apart in curls. As for the dummy-it twisted on itself to fast for the naked eye. First in half as it torse folded, then outwards as it imploded. For the observers, all they saw was a brief flash of green lightning, then the targets were ruined.
Its ruined limp hand plopped back onto the soil.
Silence. Nothing. I surveyed the crowd. They were busy watching the slow-motion replay. Eyes widening as the target dummy twisted before the safety of cover. The Captain-General had a pleased look on his face.
Archmagos Quegox stepped back. The next was a FWL soldier, followed by a techpriest. He kept his composure as he carefully picked up the grav-pistol. The techpriest quickly went over the controls again. To their credit, the soldier was a quick study and he nodded his ascent before looking at his target.
An ork dummy.
He raised the relic grav-pistol. Textbook perfect form. An exhale of air, cold mist swirling in the air, and-direct impact. A flash of green lightning, followed by a deafening boom. This time, it was too fast for my implants. I watched the replay on the big screen.
The air visibly rumbled as the relic weapon lived up to its designation. Unprotected by armor, the 'ork's' body concaved out, its limbs almost popping out of its sockets. And just at it reached the point of no return, the entire thing compressed on itself. The spine and ribcage resisted for a moment before they snapped. With the loss of any structural integrity, the dummy ripped itself into a fat ovoid ball.
Someone below began to clap. As the first smack of palm on palm echoed, it was met with dozens of more. Janos nodded his head in approval as he clapped.
To the crowd's approval. Another techpriest stepped forward.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Afternoon
"My lord," Johnson began, bringing over a datapad. Janos Marik gave Johnson a brief look. Johnson was worried he was going to bite his head off. He gave Johnson a nod to continue, keeping his features neutral. "An insider trading accusation was just introduced in Parliament, directed at your son, Duggan." He finished with a whisper.
They knew full well to stay away from his family-! He took a deep breath. Calm. He had to stay calm.
Of course. How dare he not invite all of Parliament to Camp Karpov for this highly sensitive meeting? How could he not bring the leadership of the Free Worlds League near a heavily armed foreign delegation from state they had met only 3 days ago? He didn't dignify Parliament's stunt with a yell of anger or outrage. No. He would maintain his composure. The Chief-Fabricator was less than 60 meters away, speaking with his staff and entertaining his supporters' questions.
That should keep him somewhat distracted. With a brief tilt of his head, he watched the crowd.
Aides were beginning to come forward as their lords drifted from the crowd. It was only a matter of time. Hopefully it was just another idiot was tricked into submitting it and agitate Parliament. [No. Hope is a poor strategy.] One that had failed him too many times.
"Should he ask, please inform the Chief-Fabricator I will return momentarily." He ordered. Without any further sound, he walked away. There was a meeting room a short walk away from the stands. Thankfully, his staff adapted quickly, and only the needed key members discretely made their own way with him.
[At least they jumped the gun early. It'll be easy to dismiss. No, it was an accusation, not a charge.] He could fight a charge, an accusation would hang in the public eye. Then he'd have to deal with what they had next in store. It was only a matter of time.
"What happened?" No one just accuses the Minister of Trade of insider trading. Duggan was crooked, but he knew when to keep a lid on it. This was just getting absurd. What was Humphrey's thinking? He wouldn't hesitate to paint her entire faction with this act of stupidity.
"Ten minutes after the rejuvanent treatments began, his accounts flash sold 60 million Eagles in medical stocks." The stock market was still frozen until the end of the week. Was it private sale? What the hell was going on?
A guard opened the door for him as he made his way inside.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Afternoon
The Captain-General had just walked away. People were whispering. It was subtle thing, but to spread out to evade my attention. They were vague or used language I didn't fully understand. I was out of the loop, and Janos' allies were trying to conceal whatever was going on. Some of his political opponents were here, but his supporters made up the vast majority.
More annoyingly, the (very purple themed come to think of it) crowd had made its way to me as we made our way back into the building. Lords, Parliament members, military officials, and everything in between. Their greed and whatever was going on had mostly overridden the instinctive disgust at my cybernetics.
"I am afraid I cannot give accurate comparisons between Adamantium and Ferro Fibrous armor without samples for testing General." I replied to the latest official to make it through the line. To my relief, the aging general accepted the fact, and simply commented on looking forward to the tests.
What was going on?
I parsed through the various conversations as the next noble stepped forward. References to Parliament. The Marik amethyst? Someone referenced 60 million Eagles. A large sum, but nothing to note for the millionaire members of Parliament. I was missing context. The amount changed to 100 million. Another nobleman mentioned 30 million. Were these separate payments?
The next noble in the informal line stepped forward. We shook hands as he introduced himself.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Surface
Atreus Parliament
Afternoon
"This is an outrage!" "You are out of order Minister!" The slowly growing crowd of uninvited lords and Ministers argued as he watched. Duggan Marik was near red in the face as he argued with two lords, denying the accusations levied against him. Parliament had assembled, but it was not an official assembly. They wouldn't stroke more fire by calling an official assembly. The Captain-General would ignore it and the matter would only escalate. Something they weren't willing to do, yet.
As an unofficial gathering, the normal rules of Parliament were more suggestions than formal requirements for the chambers.
"You're as corrupt as your tyrant father Marik!" A Duke angrily yelled from the crowd, who if his memory was correct, held a very large stake in 3 major pharmaceutical companies.
Suggestions ignored now that pretenses of civility were starting to fall away. Someone bellowed for calm, and it was naturally ignored.
It was such a shame that the live feed of the chambers was still ongoing. The central hologram abruptly turned on. It depicted the ugliest members of the Adeptus Mechanicus' delegates. "Why is your father allowing these people onto our world!? Do we not have a say as Parliament?" A woman shouted. And there it was. The cybernetic nature of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
It was only a matter of time before the news would spread. Marik's enemies from within and out would spread the word. Personally, he took no joy from this, but it was for the best. Left unchecked, this resentment could have transformed into something far more violent.
Minister Rothchild and Minister Marik were face to face, shouting at one another, ignorant of the coming consequences. No one really watched these gatherings. The only live sessions typically covered the most boring and labyrinthine legislation. Now, he could only imagine the growing viewership. Those two had been in each other's face for almost an hour now.
It was ironic that the Captain-General brought many of his most loyal followers up north. They couldn't be in Parliament to defend him during his absence.
Duggan staggered back as Rothchild pushed him away. Another shove nearly tipped the Marik over. He couldn't make out what Duggan hissed out, but the gasps from some of the audience were telling. Bystanders rushed in separate the two. Red faced in anger, Duggan, son of Janos Marik, the Minister of Trade, swung with a fist. The strike nailed Rothchild square in the eye. This was far more than he could have hoped for. That image was going to spread across the League.
Rothchild toppled over, clutching his face.
Some of the lords and members of Parliament yelled, trying to be heard in the chaos. It wasn't to restore order. No, they were fighting for the spotlight. He could make out the sheer look of realization on Duggan Marik's face as he let the guards pull him off Minister Rothchild. Janos Marik was going to be furious.
It was simple to join the stream of aides departing the chambers as the guards stepped in to restore order. He exited just in time, as SAFE agents stormed in.
His part was done.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus
Various Locations
Mid-Afternoon
A single moment of distraction is all it takes. The brawl between two Ministers, one of them the Captain-General's son? Its more than they will ever need.
In the very chambers of Parliament, a Lyran spy's efforts yield fruit. She slinks away, a Minister's personal file in hand. The aide holding them was too distracted to notice the sleight of hand. Inside was an incomplete copy of the alliance terms between the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Free Worlds League, and more importantly the Ministers plans. The terms are disastrous.
The military alliance proposes that any hostile actions on both states, specifically when aware of an impending alien attack, are to be considered an act of war.
As far as the Minister was concerned, notice of a potential attack had just been given. There were battles ongoing at this very moment. Meaning that as soon as the papers were signed, the Lyran Commonwealth could potentially be at war with the Adeptus Mechanicus.
A handful of references indicated it was underway. This very morning, the proposal had been forwarded to the Captain-General's office. Allegedly, he and the Chief-Fabricator were in talks in the North.
That was unacceptable. She discreetly delivered the physical documents to her designated dropbox for the LIC in the suburbs outside Atreus City. Identity possibly compromised, the agent departed to a hidden safehouse.
It is not the LIC's agent, an unassuming man currently on route, that retrieves the documents.
The servants of the Dragon find the dropbox. A quick application of a stolen code, and the documents are theirs. The pair swiftly depart. In only a few short hours, the ISF will begin its own investigation. One now far ahead of the Dragon's competitors.
They need an opening. There was an opportunity to be had, and SAFE was no doubt distracted. All they needed was a small push to temporarily blind the Eagle's eyes. It comes rather unexpectedly, as images of the cybernetic Adeptus Mechanicus finally begin to circulate from the live broadcast of the chambers.
That was more than sufficient. They help the information reach the public. Their resources on Atreus were few, but they were sufficient to fuel public discourse. A priority message was sent to their leader, Subhash Indrahar with a one-time pad. The official from the embassy ferrying the message bypasses the long lines outside the station.
Why were the priority HPG rates almost 5% higher?
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Hanger 4
Early Evening
I was silent as we exited the Lander, back on the Indomitable Spirit. We managed to stay on schedule, having left just before 7:30pm. Which wasn't supposed to happen due to the morning's delays. We were supposed to go on until 9:00pm.
The Captain-General and his supporters tried to hide it, returning to the demonstration with gusto. They completely turned to damage control mode as the now very public images of my staff and I began to circulate. It was unfortunate that we had access to Atreus' local data network. A lot had happened during the break. When faced with dealing with his unruly Parliament, the irritated public or snubbing me, he chose to keep with the demonstration for as long as he could.
On one hand, that indicated he placed a high value our alliance. On the other, it meant he wasn't keeping his people in check. Which will reduce his effectiveness in mobilizing support.
We sped through the armor demonstrations. The large blocks of adamantium were barely given a glance we moved to the power armor. By then, the attendees began to show signs of fatigue. I decided to be gracious and request we close for today, and resume tomorrow. That way he didn't need to say anything to cover his ass or save face.
Unfortunately, I had duties to see to. Such as the 20 different ambassadors blowing up my official comms. The 4 representatives from the Houses, 6 from the Periphery, and the rest being Free Worlds League member states.
Today was just not it.
I made my way back to the Command Deck instead of my quarters. Tonight was going to be busy. I'll just have some of my cybernetics brought to me. I had handled some of the ambassadors' concerns while in transit, but they wanted emergency meetings. Just selecting the order was going to be a problem. Perhaps in order of time received, with Houses first then Periphery?
I received a priority video from my staff. Ah, that was a man in the streets of Atreus City burning a crude imitation of a techpriest. It was a red bedsheet on a stick, with random bits of metal sticking out of it. At least there wasn't a toaster for a head. The local police quickly subdued the man. Close by reporters resisted their efforts to disperse them.
Comstar news was calling for calm, now nice of them. Naturally, they were slightly embellishing the exact nature of the argument. Instead of pointing out that this may be a result of the Captain-General seizing power and the many parties side-lined now that he assumed near absolute power, they were chalking it up to potential disagreements in the government and slightly hinting at anti-cybernetic sentiment. If you looked closely, you could reach the same conclusion, but that image of a burning replica was rather distracting.
The ambassadors from the houses were quick to offer their sympathies, and that they would never discriminate against my people for their cybernetics. The unspoken unlike the Free Worlds League was very much noticed.
{+}Communications: Receiving meeting request with Precentor Pedrigor Aliz. Subject: HPG concerns.{+}
{-}Chief-Fabricator: Acknowledged. Standby for orders.{-}
What did they want now? We made way for the bridge. Aside from Legionnaire Sidero, the rest of the Astartes were dismissed for debriefing.
{+}Chief-Fabricator: Send reply for availability in 15 minutes.{+}
{-}Communication: Compliance.{-}
I donned a fresh set of robes and settled in the Command Throne. Connecting to the ship would come later. It didn't take long before Comstar sent the data-stream. It was a video format, not hologram. I directed it to my eye.
A servo-drone moved into position in front of me, cameras at the ready. I briefly reviewed my appearance through the drone's point of view. The throne's armrests were still scratched. I adjusted it to show only my face and shoulders.
Atreus' Precentor, Predrigor Aliz appeared. He seemed only a little haggard. I wondered how much of it was the camera and how much was makeup. The Precentor gave a calm and composed air.
And he was not alone. The Captain-General appeared to his right. Within an instant he schooled his features. Aside from a wide-eyed blink in shock, there wasn't any sign of surprise. I wouldn't have been able to manage that level of control if I was only flesh and blood.
In fact, he'd somehow managed to look well-kept despite his busy day. The lighting was far more favorable as well. I wasn't able to determine if it was the same set of clothes or just another set. Whoever was in charge of makeup for the Captain-General clearly knew what they were doing.
The three of us stared at each other for a moment in silence. Before I could speak and try to take some semblance of control over the conversation, Pedrigor spoke first.
"My apologies for the sudden and unprompted meeting Chief-Fabricator, Captain-General." He said respectably. Janos didn't react to being named second.
"I called this meeting to discuss the urgent status of the HPG." I let my eye slightly narrow. What were they up to?
"I assume its related to the price changes this evening?" Janos responded with an almost stern voice. There it was again. A flash of the Eagle. Precentor Atreus straightened slightly in his seat. Better him than me dealing with an irate House Lord.
Price changes? I didn't hear anything about that. Then again, the news was filled with news of angry Parliament members screaming at each other. A body called the Lords of the Realm was making a lot of the noise, but I couldn't find formal mentions of it in the League Constitution. I quickly placed an order for someone to scan through Atreus' local data network. I suspected it, but now I had confirmation that this destabilization was their work. Especially the exposure of our appearance to the public.
"That is correct Captain-General. I regret to inform you both that the HPG on Atreus is undergoing incredible strain." he said, pointedly not looking at me. A graph appeared next to his face. The x and y axis were labeled time (marked in hours) and total data respectively. The line was sharply ascending. "Over the last 24 hours, over 220,000 priority messages alone have been sent through our installation. The overall number of regular messages has increased by 38%." He explained with a hint of worry.
"That does not include that we upcoming zettabytes of data that will need to be transmitted in the coming weeks." Janos' brow furrowed slightly. It wouldn't be long before he realized that I was responsible for a great deal of that upcoming data. The Precentor didn't single me out no doubt due to our privacy clause, which he was absolutely bending with this.
I doubted he would outright reveal me, since that would incentivize me to turn around and reveal the data I had sent to Comstar. If I raised the issue, he would probably note how he had contractual duties to the Free Worlds League
{+}Emotion-Scanner: Unable to assess facial data.{+} I closed the program before it unhelpfully suggested I get closer. The digital format made facial analysis too unclear.
[Because of the panic messaging or were you holding real-time sessions?] Not that I could ask that. People weren't supposed to know Comstar had that capability this whole time.
"While we have replacement parts on route to Atreus, it is still 2 months before their next planned maintenance schedule." Did they not have replacement parts on site? Or would that lead to him saying they already burned through them? Would he admit to that?
Janos still appeared calm, but I imagine with a few more pushes he could erupt. Pushes like hearing the HPG might go down, crippling his nation. My presence would only distract him.
Do I intrude into the conversation? Janos' hands must be tied with me watching him. Or was that planned? If I didn't help Janos, that was a potential grudge against me. If I opposed Comstar, they might just escalate.
"I assume you wish for the Adeptus Mechanicus to temporarily transfer to the Terra system?" I said. That was the game. Leverage the HPG to force a specific response from us. I expected spycraft or uncomfortable political scandals, not trying to sink the Free Worlds League. This was an uncomfortable escalation. One they knew they couldn't do too often.
He'd admitted Comstar can't meet its contractual obligations to two Heads of State. If this got out…
Janos looked like his face was craved from granite. I'd need to give him something after all of the negatives he'd experienced today. Nothing that would make him look weak in front of his people. Something concrete to make Parliament stand in line. He'd see through it, but having me be the only source of positive news should be an advantage.
The Precentor nodded. "The Terra system's station is far more robust at handling this rise in traffic. Rest assured, as the initial panic settles, we should see reduced activity." I ignored the barb at my announcement. Now, do I make him work for it?
For the next few minutes, he made his arguments.
He noted how we were the only experts on the aliens, our first hand experience was vital. I gave him that, even though I wouldn't say it out loud. It was rather greedy of the Free Worlds League to have majority access to our knowledge. Pedrigor assured us Terra could easily assume the traffic from 5 all Houses and the Periphery. My message was turned back on me. If this matter was so dangerous, all of mankind should receive the information equally.
He then went on to note that being on Terra would significantly shorten the time needed actually plan out the summit. Thankfully, I had already informed Janos of my desires during the break. Again, the argument was logical. The time delay between Terra and Atreus was on average 36 hours. Time that quickly built up. A few more weeks, and the imbalance of knowledge was going to really show.
In the meantime, I considered my options.
On Atreus, the people didn't like me. I stay, the governmental bodies continue to argue, and I distract Janos from getting his people in line. The Houses grow more uncomfortable. Comstar continues to play its games to make things worse.
If I leave, Comstar lets off on the pressure on the Free Worlds government, switching to myself. I had more than enough items to keep ROM busy for months. The Houses will make their move. Relations between the Adeptus Mechanicus and Free Worlds League appear to take a turn for the worse. More potential for disorder and unrest.
Either outcome sees Janos blamed. An irrational or Omnissiah forbid, dethroned, Captain-General inhibits my chances of legally securing Helm. Which is why I was bothering with this whole show.
"We are currently in talks with the Free Worlds League. The Adeptus Mechanicus would prefer to finish them before proceeding to Terra. Captain-General, your thoughts?" I deferred back to him.
"I urge you both to reconsider. Perhaps you can continue discussions on Terra?" The Precentor asked before Janos could respond.
"I agree with the Chief-Fabricator." Janos stated. At the resulting frown, Janos leaned back. "How much will HPG rates rise if activity continues to rise, say to 200%?" I mentally boggled at that. Not even going to hide it. How much was Comstar going to make his nation pay for this?
Precentor Aliz made a show of doing some sort of calculation on his side. He called over an aide. After a short, whispered exchange, he turned back to us.
"If such extraordinary traffic were to occur, approximately a 20% rise for priority messages. At least 10% on non-priority daytime rates. Night rates would increase to 15% and activity would have to be significantly reduced." I killed the nerve impulse to my eye before it widened in shock. Not just priority, but day to day messages? The economy would collapse. Just the increase in cost would discourage people from sending more messages, slowing down his nation.
The cost would send them into a Depression. Now that he said it, Comstar was going to charge it. And with Steiner and Liao at the border, I'd probably be pulled into a shooting war when it gets violent. It wouldn't even need to be their direct forces. An overzealous mercenary command or lord. With such high stakes, even nuclear weapons wouldn't be off the table…
The Fourth Succession War would begin. Contacting the Clans for reinforcements would only delay the inevitable. The Primary Objective would fail. The noosphere shifted at stray calculations leaking from my mind. Cascading Failure.
{Primary Objective: Ensure Mankind's victory.}
To his credit, Janos only briefly paused at the potential numbers. I was only half paying attention as I calculated the sheer scale of this worst case outcome.
Then the Precentor came in for the kill. "I must add, with such high amounts of traffic, the HPG would likely shut down before long. By our current estimates, if we continue to assume such high levels of traffic, there's only enough spare parts available for the next 5 months."
"I assure you," he addressed both of us. "Comstar understands the gravity of this situation. Both the strain on the HPG, and the potential alien threat. However, with this increase in traffic we face a challenge to ensure continued stability. We have no interest in allowing preventable disasters to fall on the Inner Sphere."
He changed his approach after our continued silence. "I will add that should the Adeptus Mechanicus temporarily move to Terra, we would be willing to waive the increased costs entirely on the Free Worlds League, and substantially lower rates on Atreus. To below the previous rates." He amended at Janos' unimpressed look.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus would also enjoy a 20% decrease on planned rates for the next 6 months. I act with the Order's authority, and these changes will occur." He reluctantly added. 20%? Running the numbers…approximately 610 thousand C-bills for this month alone. Easily millions with the sheer amount of data I would send. The ork files alone reached extabytes, painfully bought with the blood of my people-
{+}Emotion-Regulator: Surge Detected. Activating.{+}
Fine. I dropped the line of thought before it could send me down a spiral.
As part of our agreement with Comstar, we had to estimate the data we would be transmitting on a yearly basis. Our initial estimate was a 10 exabytes. We had an entire Imperium's techbase to transfer, and had to choose the most usable technologies. Representative Miles didn't refuse, but flatly told me only the Primus could approve of an amount that large. He also admitted it would require substantial infrastructure for the intended route, implying the data would only go along an agreed upon route, and not outside of it.
The Captain-General considered the options before him. "You are certain the HPG would go down if the situation is not resolved?" He directly asked, subtly enunciating each word. An irritated scowl covered his face, his brow furrowing down.
I couldn't determine if this was a performance or if his patience was finally coming to an end. He had control of his emotions before, but would that survive what was effectively a 2nd potential Comstar interdiction?
"Absolutely." Predrigor emphasized with what appeared to be genuine regret. I didn't know either of them enough to read their mannerisms, but it seemed the Precentor didn't believe it was an act.
The Eagle's face twisted in some measure of distaste, before it disappeared.
"Very well. In light of this potential crisis, I will be open to continuing our talks at another time." He stated with finality, composure returned. I still wasn't sure if it was an act. "Chief-Fabricator Malcador?"
"If the Captain-General agrees," I said, keeping my voice steady, "I shall waive my arguments against relocating to Terra."
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Hanger #3 "Heavy Loading"
Late-Evening
There was much to do before I departed. The state of affairs between the Adeptus Mechanicus and Free Worlds League needed stabilization. Clear results to appease the public and Parliament. Not to mention the beginnings of Diplomatic channels.
I requested the Captain-General and I meet again for a final discussion before the Indomitable Spirit made way for Terra. I made sure to mention that I had more materials/information to transfer, wished to reaffirm our alliance, and asked what location he would prefer. I sent the exact details on a private channel. The protests for tonight had somewhat died down as the capital security broke it up and people turned in for the night.
The media was still running the story at full speed. Janos hadn't declared martial law, so they could keep airing with few restrictions.
He proposed coming aboard the Indomitable Spirit, then I would come down to Parliament before leaving. I accepted the compromise. He would entrust me with his safety, and vis versa.
There was much to do, and little time.
Janos came onboard the Indomitanle Spirit in a Dictator class dropship, bearing the markings of House Marik. He was polite guest, taking in the vast scale of the Indomitable Spirit's largest hanger.
A stockpile of materials was presented for his inspection. By any standard, a valuable prize, worthy of a House Lord. Easily worth billions of Imperial Thrones. Priceless to the Free Worlds League. But for House Marik alone, at no cost, with required maintenance and upkeep notes.
He beheld the following gifts with the appropriate thanks and polite awe. I was initially worried he had become to used to my people when he didn't balk at the size of the supply.
The ironstider managed to breach his composure as I explained the true value of the machine. Energy efficiency approaching perpetual motion. A feat beyond the Star League's works. My short mention of the lost secrets of the machine was noticed.
The near impossible feat of engineering had broken through his facade, and he accepted the design documents with what appeared to be genuine thanks. And of course, two working ironstriders, as proof of my claim.
We made way for the labs.
Janos Marik, and his guards observed the orks held prisoner aboard. They saw for themselves the savagery and brutish nature of our opposition. Twenty specimens were selected for transfer, their furious bellows pausing as the stasis fields activated.
Material matters concluded, we went to sit down for a long discussion.
He raised his objections for recklessly sharing our technological secrets, mentioning how the likes of Maximillian Liao and others like him would were not rational people. That they could easily turn my weapons upon our alliance if they believed it worth the risk. After all, the Chancellor had an internation reputation for treachery.
To that, I revealed the lostech nature of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Janos requested I explain. There was only time for a brief summary of the faked history. Of how centuries ago, before the age of war even, the Ancestors departed for the deep deep periphery. In the dark void of space, they discovered a trio of alien warships. They concealed themselves as the Age of War began, retreating deeper into uncharted territory. To their surprise, they found multiple species onboard,
From those derelict vessels, we uncovered technological secrets surpassing the Star League. Deeper and deeper we explored, leaving mankind behind in our search for more.
At some point, we harnessed the power of artificial intelligence, and our technology surged even further ahead. Before the Fleet, we settled worlds like any other. Our territory was supposedly large, far from the borders of the Periphery. Our power was even greater. I admitted that the Adeptus Mechanicus of now was a pitiful sample of the wonders and horrors of that age.
We strode atop the galaxy, and nothing was beyond our grasp.…Until the Rebellion of the Men of Iron. We had strayed too far. Pursued science and advancement at the cost of all other ethics and moral. The Warp, the realm of which we derived out FTL-travel was more insidious than it seemed. Reckless usage culminated in a corruption, as our military might turned upon us.
A great conflict that saw entire sectors of space permanently changed. It was a fall from grace unlike any other. Our understanding collapsed, as the machines that once built and maintained our technology turned against us.
The Ancestors shattered, fragmenting into their own small factions, among them, the predecessor to the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Mechanicum. We called it The Fall. In the face of this rebellion, and the fall of our unity, an Imperium emerged. Swearing to fight back the abominable intelligence.
The Emperor and 18 sons beat back the darkness, and our people were at his right hand in those times. My people's culture turned inward, worshipping the Ancient Ancestors; as the masters of all that could have been. To divert from their ways was heresy.
It was a stance that allowed us to survive the Second Fall. Upon its victory, the Imperium collapsed under its weight, as the Emperor and his sons waged a violent civil war. Only few of our people hid as the Legions razed everything to ash.
Again, we had torn ourselves apart in conflict, and thus did the founders of the Adeptus Mechanicus desperately strike out, destroying the surviving sons and their armies, weakened from constant war with one another. We then it took upon ourselves to patrol our ruined section of space, to remain vigilant for remnants of the Men of Iron or the Imperium. And in the meantime, fix what had been done. For over 100 years, silence...
Then, we found signs of alien life. We found hope, that perhaps we could follow in the Ancestor's footsteps. Twenty long years passed as we searched. Soon, we triangulated the origin to a set of planets. And the rest was history…
Our religion collapsed in the face of such doom. Only now, after centuries of stagnation did we cautiously step forward again. The collective work of hundreds of thousands.
I explained it quickly, more 15 sentence description than a proper accounting of the history. Comstar was going to ask, and I decided to share it now. A copy of the Codex was given.
The secrets of that age would not come easily. For they were made by minds literally to inhuman for us to understand. Without us, they would quickly fall behind. It will be a work lasting millennia.
To prove it, I had a second data core filled with data presented to him. Additional samples were added to the stockpile. Twenty digital weapons, 10 working and 10 used. Only 312 working models remained in my procession after that. Digital weapons were actually made by Jokaero, but he couldn't possibly know that. Besides, it was a perfect example of impossible technology alongside the ironstrider. As long as he shared whatever he found, I would be happy to transfer it to him.
He was cautious at my challenge. Still, he accepted it.
Then began a brief, but intense bought of negotiations. This wasn't at all what either of us wanted, but we needed a plan hammered out to at least go forward for the next few weeks.
He wanted me to make a public statement on our alliance. In exchange, he would publicly acknowledge the alien threat. That was simple enough. Accepted and done.
With such a rapid moving environment, he wanted an anchor, some form of security that would be dissolved if my actions and words were true. I refused to have any of my people, not even an ambassador stay on Atreus. To that he suggested a credit line. Five billion Marik Eagles (4.487 Billion C-bills). Straight from House Marik's vast fortunes. He had the audacity to write the check out in front of me. The Adeptus Mechanicus would be free to spend it wherever we liked, and the money would not be owed at all so long as our alliance held. If we broke our word, it would horribly damage our reputation, and we could most certainly say goodbye to peacefully securing the cores.
My mind spun as I calculated all the supplies I could buy. Six months of operation became years, if invested well. I could stretch that money a great deal. The sheer number of projects I could finish. Still, I hesitated. That was my first blunder. I couldn't conceal my disbelief, and was unable to maintain an illusion of being unimpressed. Janos suppressed a smirk, but he knew I knew he had an in.
Then, the madman upped the ante. Ten. Billion. Eagles. Fifteen if I shared the location of the lesser core to begin planning. Years of supplies became decades. Naturally, he promised not to go anywhere near it until our next meeting. I had to give in. Defeated on this one point, I accepted. New Dallas, and the complete file on how to locate and access the cache were handed to him.
As harrowing as it was, and no doubt he wanted to sink his talons in me, holding the check in my hands calmed me. The war effort was secured. My people would not die, cold, hungry, and resourceless.
I wanted to extend ceasefire and extensive technology exchange offers. I admitted it could be the start of the new international organization. Peace, in our time. Unity against the threat. Janos Marik wanted high profile items struck from the list. Grav-weapons. Heavy duty cybernetics. Only the very best patterns of rejuvanent. Warship technology. Technologies that gave significant tactical or strategic advantages. I could agree with that, to an extent. However, his final request regarding technology was too far. He wanted to open talks on Warptech between us.
That was the first real hurdle. I had to deny the sharing of all warptech, unless the vast majority of mankind could come together. It caused no less than 3 civils wars among my people. Janos politely disagreed, but was smart enough not to insult the Adeptus Mechanicus' history by dismissing it. We bounced ideas back and forth for 32 minutes.
I was willing to concede more of the cache, up to 90% of the materials, alongside 40 knight platforms of his choosing. If need be I would build factories for him. He was willing to hand over entire worlds, opening with an offer for 3 lucrative planets. A counteroffer for a Titan and right to transportation was rejected. It got a point where I willing to detach 5 of the Indomitable Spirit's energy lances and hand them over to the Free Worlds League.
The terms were becoming too rich for my liking, and thankfully we settled down after that.
The Captain-General wanted the alternative means of faster than light travel. He saw a new ceiling on vessel tonnage, size, and ability to jump vast distances. My remark that the laws of physics broke down when utilizing the warp had not gone unnoticed. The Eagle saw power, and coveted it.
Eventually, I had to pull out one of my few, precious aces. I wrote a prize and my conditions on a slip of paper and handed it to him. He raised a brow at it, before dismissing his guards and staff. His brows raised at the prize I allegedly had. I imagine that must have been one of the most outrageous claims he had ever heard of in his life, even considering my mad raving about aliens.
Even with my willingness to show proof whenever demanded, he couldn't quite believe this. He requested a sample. I obliged. Five were surrendered into his possession. Priceless prizes, that if right, would change everything he knew. Instructions, and files were forwarded to him.
As he beheld the evidence, he tangentially agreed to the terms. Upon recovery of both cores and the cache, it would be transferred to his people. If I was true, I would also build 20 factories for him and his people. It would be child's play to have it done, so I agreed.
Many of the suggested restrictions would come to pass. Only to go their hands if they agreed to unity before the alien threat. No doubt Janos' disbelieved it would happen any time soon. He won either way. If they didn't agree, that was power firmly in his hands. If they agreed, it would still take time, time he would use to gain a solid advantage, backed with my unceasing technological research. And he would gain access to warptech as well.
A heavy price, but he would not openly reach for the warp. In the depth of the Indomitable Spirit, I had the security measures increased tenfold. In some ways, it would be a good thing. Another to shoulder the blame, when I refused to give such potent technology unless mankind truly stood together.
We had long since run over the planned time. Unrest was growing, and his allies were struggling to hold off his political opponents, but much had been done. Captain-Janos Marik has assembled quite the formidable political warchest. The matter was closed for now. We would discuss it further. On Terra.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus City
Atreus City Spaceport
Late Evening
The public watched as the Dictator and 'Lander' class dropships landed across from each other. A small army occupied the launch site, as no small number of Federal and House Marik troops maintained a very visible presence. A strange vessel in the far distance landed on the edge of the pad, over 800 meters away from their dropships. It was tall, far taller than any dropship seen in the Inner Sphere. More a building than a dropship. A strange foreign phrase was emblazoned on its side, written in a language they had never seen.
Live news coverage was granted to the many news agencies across agencies. Small flashes of light filled the air as the media took pictures. News crews were allowed within a safe distance from the dropships. Families across the world tuned on their TV's in search of answers. Bars and public gathering places were crowded as the people eagerly awaited news. The agents of foreign states watched as their competitor make its next move.
Both dropships opened their bay-doors.
The Captain-General's Dictator disgorged a small horde of infantry. The famed Eagle Corps made their way down. Followed out by four Awesome assault mechs. At the center of the formation, Janos Marik himself. More perceptive witnesses spied a strange necklace on the Captain-General. An icon of the League's symbol. In the days to come, after much scrutiny, analysts would note traces of strange flickers in the air around him.
A large group of Free Worlds League mechs gathered around the building like dropship. Excited children gawked at the parade of assault mechs on display.
The Lander, a foreign dropship, lowered a simple ramp. The cameras flashed, trying to pierce the unnatural black gloam of its interiors. Strange green armored soldiers marched down in two rows. The camera zoomed in on group ten metal grey giants that walked behind them. They towered above the men in front of them. Their leader, bearing a cape and sword of all things was head and shoulders above a normal human being. Strange drones floated around them, scanning the air around them.
A red robed figure made it ways down. They bore a staff taller than themselves, ending in half of a sharped gear. Their features were obscured by a blank metal mask.
Finally, two towering battlemechs emerged. They walked with a strange grace. More akin to a man than the methodical gait of a battlemech. They bore unknown weapons, large cannons with glowing blue bodies. One of them bore a harpoon and the other a massive flamethrower.
To the crowd's surprise, the spire-dropship's bay opened like a vast gate. An IFF tag flared on the radar, 'Ion Rex'. Infrared cameras registered a massive heat spike inside the dropship. And then…
The cameras erupted in a blinding flash, as it stepped out.
It was too big to be a mech. Too big, too heavy, and too vast. It was more like a metal giant. Stamp. Came a foot on the reinforced ferrocrete. The tarmac, meant for dropships, shuddered as its weight.
Deep mechanical clicks echoed in the air as the escorting battlemechs tried to keep pace with its ponderous stride. Click. Click. Click. An Atlas walking next to the giant machine didn't even reach its knees.
Its head jutted out from its torso, neck guarded by thick plates of armor. A single blue eye blazed out from behind its helmeted visage. Gargantuan shoulders flanked the battlemech's head. Searchlights from hovercraft cast its menacing silhouette in light.
Stamp.
Triple barreled cannons sat atop its shoulders and each arm ended in a single, gargantuan cannon. The people could only gawk as the titan marched.
Stamp.
There was an aged air to the machine. The iconography seemed ancient, worn down by the elements and time, not by conflict or war.
Neither the Captain-General or the masked stranger seemed to care for colossus making way for them, continuing their journey to the midpoint of between them.
Stamp.
It came to a stop 20 meters away. Banners unfurled from its arm cannons. On the left, the purple Eagle Free Worlds League. On the right, the grey cog of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Even still so far away, it loomed over both the Captain-General and the stranger.
The two came to a stop, only a meter away. Janos Marik exuded a calm air, unflinching in the shadow of the giant. For a moment, they stayed silent, watching the other. It was the stranger who moved first, unmasking for the Inner Sphere to see. The camera caught every morbid detail.
Across Atreus, people paid rapt attention as the rumors proved true, that these-these mechanical freaks were on their planet.
"Chief-Fabricator Malcador," Janos Marik stated, voice ringing out from the giant's back. The audio quality was superb, as if he was right before the viewer. There wasn't a visible microphone, how was he-
"I have heard your claims, and find them true." The people recoiled. What? Did the Captain-General really believe them?
"Yet, in the face of such trying news, and times to come, I have found a friend." He said, extending his hand. The towering cyborg stepped forward, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.
"As are we, Captain-General Janos Marik." The now named Malcador stated in a robotic voice. His mechanical eye rotated once in its socket.
"We, of the Adeptus Mechanicus, are gladdened you see the truth in our words. I am glad to have the Free Worlds League as an ally. It is a shame our meeting has been cut short, but matters of state call us to Terra." He proclaimed.
"Yet we will not leave our newfound allies without the tools to prepare for this threat." On that word, a train of hovercraft departed the lander. On them, exposed for all to see, were supplies of foreign goods. Racks of weapons. Suites of armor. Crates of vials and medicine. Carefully arranged boxes of the drones hovering around Malcador's men. More importantly, to the witnesses' shock, what could only a massive data core sat on the final craft.
From the Captain-General's side, large cargo haulers came forward.
Both Heads of State stood aside as the exchange ensued. Pairs of workers placed strange metal sheets in front of the Adeptus Mechanicus battlemechs. Both machines legs' locked in place, before powering down. Their pilots exited out of the top of their steeds, before simply…stepping off on ledge.
Instead of falling to their deaths, they descended slowly, as if gravity was only a fraction of its strength. To the public's awe, the two gently landed, and handed what appeared to be keys and keycards to the Chief-Fabricator. Who then handed them to the Captain-General.
A table was placed between the two. Two documents of some kind were placed on it. Media agencies struggled to gain a proper view of the papers. They both signed the papers, each taking one.
"I shall await your arrival on Terra, Captain-General." Malcador concluded. Janos Marik nodded his head in agreement, before his newfound allies departed for their dropship.
The colossus turned away, returning to its tower like vessel, the banners of both states waving in the wind. Atreus' people watched as history was made, as their nation entered a new era.
Soon enough, the Adeptus Mechanicus ascended back to the skies, followed by a dropship from Free Worlds League and Comstar.
[-----------------]
February 4, 3020
Atreus System
Orbit
Late Evening
They watched as the Indomitable Spirit slowly pulled away. Dropship captains. The Free Worlds military. Scientists planetwide. News networks were running a live broadcast to Atreus. Spies; House, Periphery, Wolve's Dragoons and Comstar. Anyone with a telescope in the right hemisphere. In a week, the footage would reach most of human space.
Small thrusters underneath the front of the ship slowly pushed the vessel upwards. The FWL escort pulled away as the warship's main engines activated. Observers could make out movement across the colossal ship. Bulkheads sealed, minor guns rescinded back into the ship, viewports closed and its own ASF escort withdrew into its hangers.
And to many's shock, the small city now in view resting atop the ship itself. Gleaming towers of gunmetal gray protruded from the rear of the ship, just before the engines.
The ungainly ship slowly accelerated away. 4,500 kilometers from Atreus. 10,000 kilometers. 50,000 kilometers. At 80,000 kilometers away, the "warp jump" began. The space in front of the ship began to glow purple and pink.
The void of space split. As if someone had taken a knife and cut it away. The gap clawed itself open and grew into a haphazard circle, over 6 kilometers in diameter. The opening in real-space heaved with movement, like a roiling ocean. Flickers of purple lightning crept out from the sudden gap in space before disappearing.
A shimmering field suddenly flared to life over the ship. Slowly, the Indomitable Spirit made way for the portal. The field flickered and sparked at the lightning danced over it. As it finally made contact, the ship seemed to stretch in a blur-
-a brief flash of purple light-
-and the portal snapped shut. Blackness. As if nothing was ever there. The Free Worlds League military moved in to secure the site.
Captain-General Janos Marik briefly studied the empty space in his command center, before dismissing the feed. It was almost humbling, to know that the Indomitable Spirit was already at Terra. The escorts now investigators reported strange readings on their scanners.
They would meet again. The Adeptus Mechanicus wanted that data core, almost as much as he did. Instead of seizing the cache and simply depositing the core, they had come to him to ask. As long as they desired the legitimacy of obtaining it through diplomacy and good relations, he could continue to make gains.
He departed for the first of many meetings with Parliament. The delivery of technology had increased his standing, even if it didn't go according to plan. Only having the secondary core was grating, but he couldn't afford to alienate such a powerful ally. At least they had softened the blow by accepting his line of credit. And what a prize he had received in exchange for it.
The Free Worlds League now possessed incredible new technologies. The signed promise of alliance, sat in a locked briefcase by his side.
His generals, scientists and even Parliament were chomping at the bit to gain access to the data and clamored for his attention. They wanted it, but he had complete control over the data and one of cores' location. Everything was in his hands. It was hard to suppress his smile. This kind of leverage over Parliament rarely came.
It was time to begin cementing his newfound emergency powers.
[-----------------]
February 4th, 3020
Terra System
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Early Morning
The warp jump ended as quickly as it started. We exited the Atreus system, and the Indomitable emerged from the warp. Sensors and all stations reported all clears.
And there it was. A mere 700,000 kilometers away. Glittering in the void of space. As expected, it was very different from home, far more spacecraft. Much more activity, this was the physical center of human civilization. Yet, despite all of that, I could skill recognize it.
Terra. Once throne of the Star League and Cameron Dynasty, now Comstar's.
Holy Terra. The capital of a galaxy spanning Imperium.
Earth. The home that was not.
The universe of battletech had changed long before my parents had been born, let alone myself. Any of my peers, friends or acquaintances, really. By all counts, it was an entirely different universe.
Still, I expected to feel the temptation. To use the incredible authority at my fingertips to look for things that could not exist. I could have infiltrators on Terra within the day. Two, if I wanted to ensure Comstar would never find out. I opened my emotion regulator. Searching for a reaction. A spark of longing. Desire. Anger. I would even settle for sadness. Anything.
Nothing came. It was close, but it wasn't home.
Hmmm. Archmagos Tan-Logatian was right after all. My memory bank opened as I recalled the data for the exact quote. It had been such a long time since we had that talk…
{=}Accessing memory logs.{=}
{+}Tan-Logatian: Fabricator-General. Just as this Mars has no Ring of Iron, Noctus Labyrnth, grand manufactorums, or hard-won scars of victory, this 'Earth' is nothing like yours. It is familiar, but lacks the spirit. To appeal to your remaining inhibitory flesh, it is a foreign port, with similar weather and appearance, but no true ties to your home. The spiritual weight of history and familiarity is absent.{+}
I could see what he meant. As I peered through the sensor data, I could see the differences. This Terra was too different. Far to advanced compared to Earth. The ISS was a toy compared to some of the stations in system. It was rather ironic that I was from the least technologically advanced civilization in this universe, leading the Mechanicus.
I surveyed the Terra again. Clearly Comstar had spared no expense in their safekeeping of Terra. By Imperium and Mechanicus standards, aside from the scale and lack of defenses, this was a very well-maintained planetary capital.
Glistening space stations sat in Terra orbit. Tens of dropships came and went from the surface. Close surface scans showed sprawling cities larger than anything back home. Actual planet-side mega-engineering. I saw only few large scale signs of the damage from the Amaris Coup and Succession Wars. Peaceful. Productive. [Just like Holy Terra, this Terra held the unique trait of being nominally safe from invasion…] Well, at least until the Clan Invasion, but still. Centuries of almost guaranteed safety.
It would be an interesting trip. To explore and view another planetary capital. My journey to Atreus was a mere 3 days, and most of it stuck at the North Pole. I suspected this trip was going to be much longer. What would I see in visits between meetings with the Primus? It could be an excellent way to relax if it became too frustrating.
I paused as I considered the new and old landmarks I could visit. The futuristic changes I would see. The old magaos was right.
{+}Tan-Logatian: Potential of emotional distress = low. Likely abundance of novel experience will override your observed perception threshold. Behavior coincides with adaption to drastic change in surroundings. Final conclusion: Fully engage in the experience. Attaching analysis.{+} Order concluded, the archmagos returned to their work. Tan-Logatian's presence in the noosphere greatly diminished.
Wait a minute…
Did…did Tan-Logatian think I was too much of a bumpkin to be depressed on seeing Terra? Uh. Wow.
Insult(?) aside, this was a nice surprise. I was worried thinking about home would distract me before my most difficult diplomatic venture yet. I'd hoped that I would have time to cut my teeth on the Free Worlds League and communications with other polities. Would it end in blood? Would it end in peace? Dare I hope for understanding and co-operation?
{+}Communications: Chief-Fabricator, we have received approach instructions from Comstar.{+}
"Acknowledged, send confirmation."
"Make way for Terra." I commanded, feeling the throne slightly shudder as the engines came to life.
[-----------------]
Brawl in Parliament! Minister Duggan Marik gets into fist fight with Minister Rothchild. Captain-General Janos Marik defends sudden decision to ally with now revealed cybernetic civilization. Speaker Stewards maintains stance on supporting continued talks despite protests…
-Free Press News, Atreus Office.
Special Edition! Last seen over Atreus IV, Capital of the Free Worlds League, the Indomitable Spirit has suddenly arrived in the Terra system. The Primus has issued a special press conference as the massive warship makes way for Terra, to be held…
-Terra Local News, Europe Division
Pirates take dropship hostage near border! Local Militia unable to move due to Marik presence on…
-Sian Orator
Tharkad Stock Exchange drops 400 points amidst rapid speculation. Defiance Industries shares jumped to a high of 9,731.98 kroner a share today as…
-Commonwealth News
Outrage in the Magistrix's Court: Court is to be closed for 2 days as…
-Magistracy Crier
-Free Press News, Atreus Office.
Special Edition! Last seen over Atreus IV, Capital of the Free Worlds League, the Indomitable Spirit has suddenly arrived in the Terra system. The Primus has issued a special press conference as the massive warship makes way for Terra, to be held…
-Terra Local News, Europe Division
Pirates take dropship hostage near border! Local Militia unable to move due to Marik presence on…
-Sian Orator
Tharkad Stock Exchange drops 400 points amidst rapid speculation. Defiance Industries shares jumped to a high of 9,731.98 kroner a share today as…
-Commonwealth News
Outrage in the Magistrix's Court: Court is to be closed for 2 days as…
-Magistracy Crier
[Chapter 5:
End Notes:
-
A Proposal forwarded by the Adeptus Mechanicus to obscure, shroud, and conceal the locations of all human worlds to avoid detection by overwhelming Ork void assets. The proposal recommends establishing control of all navigation data and trade routes, jumpship crews deleting navigation data when in danger of capture, removal of galactic scale maps from public broadcasts, and numerous other measures.
- The Ministers of the FWL will be mostly Oc's, as they do not have names
- Chapter 5 part 1 Edit: Line regarding a minimally augmented human being used when interacting with House diplomats removed. SAFE is full of holes and the other Houses would find out too fast for it to be worth the deception.
- Sidestory 4 edit, drop distance of cadian jump troopers. Originally listed at 7.5km. Now coincides with chapter 5's 15km. I don't remember where I got the estimate that the atmosphere ended at 10km, when the atmosphere (earth's) extends up to at least 10,000 km from the surface (perhaps 630km depending on a 2019 Nasa/Euro. Space Agency study).
- The ratio of Eagles to C-bills used was around 1.115. The Adeptus Mechanicus are walking away with 13,471,698,113 C-bills at time of signing
- Free World League Government: The FWL government is composed of 2(4*) primary bodies in 3020
- The Captain-General.
- Parliament, who held the power to pass laws, create taxes and other major legislative powers.
- *Parliament every 2 years would decide a Speaker of Parliament, who would then appoint 9 Ministers to manage the League's 9 Federal Agencies. Legally, at least 3 of the Ministers must hail from the 3 founding League provinces, one for each Ministry position. This requirement has caused no small amount of discourse.
- *The Lords of the Realm. An advisory body composed of at least planetary rulers. While they have no voting powers, they possess significant (and unmerited for its role) public attention and influence.
- There is a non-zero chance one of the digital weapons has some weird jokaero gibberish in it, but that's not really a problem. That'll be overridden before it matters.
Last edited:
Sidestory: Doctor Ackerman of the FWL (Post Chapter 5)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Very Morning
Doctor Alissa Ackerman sat down. "How was the procedure?" Asked the Minister of Human Services, David Rothchild. She gave the question some thought before answering. "Completely revolutionary sir." His brow furrowed. She avoided looking at the bandage covering his right eye.
"So it was a success then." The Minister turned his monitor towards her. "I must admit I still find it hard to believe. Reversing aging in only a day." The difference between the before and after pictures of one of the volunteers was stark. Aside from some minor changes in facial features, it was if she hadn't aged a day compared to old pictures.
"Not entirely Minister." She answered, deciding to keep to truth over supporting her superior. With how political things were going to get, lying would get her sucked in. And she had no intention of getting between the Captain-General or Parliament. At his nod she continued. "The 'rejuvanant' formula will allegedly take a few more days before fully taking effect. With the results we're receiving, I'm inclined to believe them."
The mystery solution flowing through the volunteer's veins was working. Fast. Almost her entire body was changing. It was a borderline metamorphosis of the body.
"I know its only been a day, but how much progress has their been in analyzing the samples the," Rothchild's slowly growing blackeye slightly twitched, "Adeptus Mechanicus have left us?"
"Incredibly slow sir. Truth be told, we have almost no idea what we're looking at. We can identify parts of what rejuvanent does, but not how. The cursory notes Themul passed during the surgery barely scape the surface." She'd have killed for the data the cyborg had alluded to during their post-operation discussion.
And Themul wasn't even a true specialist. The lead surgeon, Aurumux P-79 was quiet for most of the day. She recalled it well. Three mechanical tentacles moved from place to place in the incisions that threatened to split the volunteer from neck to groin. It never rushed. No. They and their owner operated at an almost casual pace. But there were no pauses, no breaks, no surprises. Every part of the operation was planned and accounted for. A developing tumor was removed with barely a twitch of the scalpel and application of some strange fluid that Themul wouldn't name. Worn down cartilage was replaced using strange attachments that effortlessly worked the muscle and bone apart with minimal damage. The spine was straightened and reinforced in only half an hour. Full functionality guaranteed, it boasted.
"I see." Rothchild replied, a small frown on his face. She dearly hoped that this wasn't going to be the end of her career. That fistfight her superior had gotten into yesterday was doing his mood no small favors. "And they declined from sharing anything beyond the most basic details?" She nodded carefully.
She didn't like the way the question was worded, but she'd already corrected him once. A second might not be taken well. Not on a simple question like this.
It deflected almost any attempt to ask about the actual biology and production details regarding rejuvanent. Themul I-59 was more amicable to explain the methodology and parts of the surgery, but it only led to more questions than answers.
And what questions they were. In all her years of study she had never considered these kinds of procedures as possible let alone combined into one operation. The depth of knowledge was awe inspiring. A whole new field of medicine. It made her head spin with the possibilities. It would change everything they knew of medicine. Everything she knew about medicine.
"How many times can this operation be repeated?" She asked, as Aurumux P-79 cleaned its tools for the final operation. The cyborg had uploaded its direct point of view to a set of data sticks that were handed to a slim SAFE agent that clearly didn't fit in.
"Multiple times. With frequent applications and proper care, a human lifespan can theoretically reach 800 years in perfect conditions. Potentially a thousand if there are no complications in the brain. It will likely increase as we further refine the process."
[-----------------]
Cuts off here as I realized I should just go back to the real meat and potatoes. I'd love to keep expanding the bits and bobs of everything going on, but I should save that for the summit when everyone meets on Terra. If I keep at this pace, I won't be writing the actual ork invasion until like 2028.
I'll revisit rejuvanent when production really gets going and the implications of the aging population returning to the work force start to really build. That'll be fun. Retired nobles and old Clanners wanting their original positions back,
End notes:
February 5, 3020
Atreus Surface
Camp Karpov
Very Morning
Doctor Alissa Ackerman sat down. "How was the procedure?" Asked the Minister of Human Services, David Rothchild. She gave the question some thought before answering. "Completely revolutionary sir." His brow furrowed. She avoided looking at the bandage covering his right eye.
"So it was a success then." The Minister turned his monitor towards her. "I must admit I still find it hard to believe. Reversing aging in only a day." The difference between the before and after pictures of one of the volunteers was stark. Aside from some minor changes in facial features, it was if she hadn't aged a day compared to old pictures.
"Not entirely Minister." She answered, deciding to keep to truth over supporting her superior. With how political things were going to get, lying would get her sucked in. And she had no intention of getting between the Captain-General or Parliament. At his nod she continued. "The 'rejuvanant' formula will allegedly take a few more days before fully taking effect. With the results we're receiving, I'm inclined to believe them."
The mystery solution flowing through the volunteer's veins was working. Fast. Almost her entire body was changing. It was a borderline metamorphosis of the body.
"I know its only been a day, but how much progress has their been in analyzing the samples the," Rothchild's slowly growing blackeye slightly twitched, "Adeptus Mechanicus have left us?"
"Incredibly slow sir. Truth be told, we have almost no idea what we're looking at. We can identify parts of what rejuvanent does, but not how. The cursory notes Themul passed during the surgery barely scape the surface." She'd have killed for the data the cyborg had alluded to during their post-operation discussion.
And Themul wasn't even a true specialist. The lead surgeon, Aurumux P-79 was quiet for most of the day. She recalled it well. Three mechanical tentacles moved from place to place in the incisions that threatened to split the volunteer from neck to groin. It never rushed. No. They and their owner operated at an almost casual pace. But there were no pauses, no breaks, no surprises. Every part of the operation was planned and accounted for. A developing tumor was removed with barely a twitch of the scalpel and application of some strange fluid that Themul wouldn't name. Worn down cartilage was replaced using strange attachments that effortlessly worked the muscle and bone apart with minimal damage. The spine was straightened and reinforced in only half an hour. Full functionality guaranteed, it boasted.
"I see." Rothchild replied, a small frown on his face. She dearly hoped that this wasn't going to be the end of her career. That fistfight her superior had gotten into yesterday was doing his mood no small favors. "And they declined from sharing anything beyond the most basic details?" She nodded carefully.
She didn't like the way the question was worded, but she'd already corrected him once. A second might not be taken well. Not on a simple question like this.
It deflected almost any attempt to ask about the actual biology and production details regarding rejuvanent. Themul I-59 was more amicable to explain the methodology and parts of the surgery, but it only led to more questions than answers.
And what questions they were. In all her years of study she had never considered these kinds of procedures as possible let alone combined into one operation. The depth of knowledge was awe inspiring. A whole new field of medicine. It made her head spin with the possibilities. It would change everything they knew of medicine. Everything she knew about medicine.
"How many times can this operation be repeated?" She asked, as Aurumux P-79 cleaned its tools for the final operation. The cyborg had uploaded its direct point of view to a set of data sticks that were handed to a slim SAFE agent that clearly didn't fit in.
"Multiple times. With frequent applications and proper care, a human lifespan can theoretically reach 800 years in perfect conditions. Potentially a thousand if there are no complications in the brain. It will likely increase as we further refine the process."
[-----------------]
Cuts off here as I realized I should just go back to the real meat and potatoes. I'd love to keep expanding the bits and bobs of everything going on, but I should save that for the summit when everyone meets on Terra. If I keep at this pace, I won't be writing the actual ork invasion until like 2028.
I'll revisit rejuvanent when production really gets going and the implications of the aging population returning to the work force start to really build. That'll be fun. Retired nobles and old Clanners wanting their original positions back,
End notes:
- Aurum is the latin word for gold. 79 is the number of protons in gold. I spent like a day trying to work in gold description of her, but couldn't settle on one. I want to keep to a other weird science references when naming mechanicus characters alongside the usual 40k conventions.
- Rothchild: I was originally going to add mentions of nobles with names like Disney or Pinkerton, showing in Battletech they still live on to the 3000's, but it wasn't worth the effort of keep checking the history books for more ancient families that have persisted until the modern day,
- I don't believe many of the Ministers in the Free Worlds League are named, so I'll just make them up if they need a name.
Sidestory: Luunch Toime
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
1 am brain go brrrrrrrr. Third time writing orks.
Trying to garble the English just enough, but still remain legible is fun. My spell check is screaming at me. There are red error lines all over this. I almost wanted to open a dictionary to find more words to mangle. Truth be told I'm not sure I'll be able to read this in the future. Maybe that should be a goal, If I can truly understand the entire thing I didn't do it right.
Chapter 5 part 2 at 4,306 words after partial rewrites.
[-------]
Noight time, Zog if I know
Krusha-ando
Ol'Squig Caves
"'Ey boss." A nob spoke up as the massive hunk of meat squigoth cooked. "Why we gotta krump da little not-tinny boyz first?"
Head-Stompa drank 'is ten one fungus beer. "Cause dey's stoopid. Dey like der grots and get real mad whenya krump dem. So if we krump da little gitz-"
"Dey fight hahda! Youz a brainy one boss!" Head-stompa almost crushed the git's head for stoppin 'im, but was gonna be eatin time soon. The boyz would give a betta fight when the fooud was cooked and could smell it. He had 'is double choppa-hamma roight nexta 'im to.
The Mek walked over wiff another two fungus beers. He grabbed one. "Is dat why you makin me make more dummies boss?" Thud-dakka asked, only givin' the boss a little stare.
Gulp. Gulp. Ova boyz beer was more tastier than 'is own. Head-Stompa belched, and frew da ting away. It krumped a grot in da head. Ha! "Yeah. Der's no more of the grots. Dey's all on there ship. Killin 'em in those whoite tent fings with der pain boyz is good, but that only makes 'im foight a little hahda."
Head-Stompa frowned at dat. No good foight dere. Only a little betta. If dey got to da tent fing, dey's only weak gitz in dere. And dey stopped paintin dem whoite and red +'s on dem too!
"I sawa nob krumpa fake tinny git before dey left. Dey deedn't know it wasa fake. Got'em all mad, for ten five dayz."
"Oh, was dat when dey brought the shiny stompas out?" Dose fings were all big and got lottsa lasa dakka. Some of dem had supa choppas!
"Yeah. We got some noice loot to." Stoopid 'ol Iron-Head went da wrong way and got krumped, so der huned battle wagons was 'is now. AND 4 ov da beeg tanks dey was tryin to bring back.
"I'll make 'em betta boss!" Thud-dakka said. Stoopid git, shooda been makin dem good from da start. 'E needed anova fungus beer. Whack. The 'eadless git fell down twitchin'.
Wait a Gorkin and Morkin second. "Where's Git-Snatcha?" Thud-dakka looked up from 'is shoota.
"He and 'is pain boyz is lookin at da dead gitz we got in back. Says he moight figgah out why some of dem got dose dangly bits on der chests. Finks if you krump dem and the little gitz, dey get supa mad." Like a eldie gitz?
Dat sounded good. "Oi!" 'E threw some boyz' plate at dat stoopid nob. "Get somuva those loive tinny gitz in chains to the pain-boyz. Dey's experimentin'." Da Nob shook. To bad, if Git-Snatcha looted 'im for bitz, dat was 'is fault. "Dew it!" 'E raised 'is hammuh.
"Ok boss, we goin!" Da Nob grabbed eight boys and ran to the back back, where dey keept the tinny boyz for foights.
Da big one was gonna krump some of dem, but dat's why he had ten ten boyz watchin five gitz each. E' wasn't worried tho, dat beeg git could krump three nobs and walk away.
Squeak. Squeak. Da squiggoth stopped turnin. All the boyz stopped mucking about. "Meats up!" Da couk-boy screamed, grabbing a chunk and walkin way as the gitz started foightin.
""WAAAAAGHHHH!"" Cups o' fungus beer and grots started flyin'. Some git was usin' a flama to keep da boyz away.
Head-Stompa stood up with 'is double-choppa hamma. "You gitz! I get the legs!" Two nobs came swingin at 'im. 'E roared at dem and dey roared back.
It was lunch time.
+++[Sidestory End]+++
Strangely enough, writing like this is almost harder than trying to figure out compelling complex dialogue between 2 heads of state. Have to be much more creative in my word choice. Ork vocab is limited, but at the same time using the same 20 words over and over again will make them boring.
Some of the Ork """numbers""" and vocab.
Trying to garble the English just enough, but still remain legible is fun. My spell check is screaming at me. There are red error lines all over this. I almost wanted to open a dictionary to find more words to mangle. Truth be told I'm not sure I'll be able to read this in the future. Maybe that should be a goal, If I can truly understand the entire thing I didn't do it right.
Chapter 5 part 2 at 4,306 words after partial rewrites.
[-------]
Noight time, Zog if I know
Krusha-ando
Ol'Squig Caves
"'Ey boss." A nob spoke up as the massive hunk of meat squigoth cooked. "Why we gotta krump da little not-tinny boyz first?"
Head-Stompa drank 'is ten one fungus beer. "Cause dey's stoopid. Dey like der grots and get real mad whenya krump dem. So if we krump da little gitz-"
"Dey fight hahda! Youz a brainy one boss!" Head-stompa almost crushed the git's head for stoppin 'im, but was gonna be eatin time soon. The boyz would give a betta fight when the fooud was cooked and could smell it. He had 'is double choppa-hamma roight nexta 'im to.
The Mek walked over wiff another two fungus beers. He grabbed one. "Is dat why you makin me make more dummies boss?" Thud-dakka asked, only givin' the boss a little stare.
Gulp. Gulp. Ova boyz beer was more tastier than 'is own. Head-Stompa belched, and frew da ting away. It krumped a grot in da head. Ha! "Yeah. Der's no more of the grots. Dey's all on there ship. Killin 'em in those whoite tent fings with der pain boyz is good, but that only makes 'im foight a little hahda."
Head-Stompa frowned at dat. No good foight dere. Only a little betta. If dey got to da tent fing, dey's only weak gitz in dere. And dey stopped paintin dem whoite and red +'s on dem too!
"I sawa nob krumpa fake tinny git before dey left. Dey deedn't know it wasa fake. Got'em all mad, for ten five dayz."
"Oh, was dat when dey brought the shiny stompas out?" Dose fings were all big and got lottsa lasa dakka. Some of dem had supa choppas!
"Yeah. We got some noice loot to." Stoopid 'ol Iron-Head went da wrong way and got krumped, so der huned battle wagons was 'is now. AND 4 ov da beeg tanks dey was tryin to bring back.
"I'll make 'em betta boss!" Thud-dakka said. Stoopid git, shooda been makin dem good from da start. 'E needed anova fungus beer. Whack. The 'eadless git fell down twitchin'.
Wait a Gorkin and Morkin second. "Where's Git-Snatcha?" Thud-dakka looked up from 'is shoota.
"He and 'is pain boyz is lookin at da dead gitz we got in back. Says he moight figgah out why some of dem got dose dangly bits on der chests. Finks if you krump dem and the little gitz, dey get supa mad." Like a eldie gitz?
Dat sounded good. "Oi!" 'E threw some boyz' plate at dat stoopid nob. "Get somuva those loive tinny gitz in chains to the pain-boyz. Dey's experimentin'." Da Nob shook. To bad, if Git-Snatcha looted 'im for bitz, dat was 'is fault. "Dew it!" 'E raised 'is hammuh.
"Ok boss, we goin!" Da Nob grabbed eight boys and ran to the back back, where dey keept the tinny boyz for foights.
Da big one was gonna krump some of dem, but dat's why he had ten ten boyz watchin five gitz each. E' wasn't worried tho, dat beeg git could krump three nobs and walk away.
Squeak. Squeak. Da squiggoth stopped turnin. All the boyz stopped mucking about. "Meats up!" Da couk-boy screamed, grabbing a chunk and walkin way as the gitz started foightin.
""WAAAAAGHHHH!"" Cups o' fungus beer and grots started flyin'. Some git was usin' a flama to keep da boyz away.
Head-Stompa stood up with 'is double-choppa hamma. "You gitz! I get the legs!" Two nobs came swingin at 'im. 'E roared at dem and dey roared back.
It was lunch time.
+++[Sidestory End]+++
Strangely enough, writing like this is almost harder than trying to figure out compelling complex dialogue between 2 heads of state. Have to be much more creative in my word choice. Ork vocab is limited, but at the same time using the same 20 words over and over again will make them boring.
Some of the Ork """numbers""" and vocab.
- Ten one = 11
- Huned = 100
- Ten ten = twenty
- 'E = He
- 'Is = His
- Hahda = harder
- couk-boy = cook boy
Sidestory: Archon Steiner (Post Chapter 5)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 6, 3020
Tharkad
The Triad
Late Evening
…
Psychological profiles indicate Alien forces would not hesitate to immediately initiate a complete and total invasion of human space if in possession of navigational data. The current lack of alien vessels appearing within the Periphery and Inner Sphere confirms Operation Alexandria's success.
The aliens do not know the location of mankind's worlds. Currently, opposing alien super-capital warships is not possible. It is imperative to maintain this strategic advantage.
It is the recommendation of the Adeptus Mechanicus that all nations and peoples immediately secure any and all navigational data related to the locations, positions and borders of human worlds for the benefit and safety of all. Protocols must be established to ensure these objectives are met in full.
Furthermore…
Katrina Steiner, Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth put down the heavy packet down back onto her desk. One of many, many reports forwarded by her ambassador on Atreus. They covered a variety of topics, from fungal growth tables to invasion protocols. Heavily so.
So much that she planned on adopting several of them. More worryingly, many of them resembled existing legislation and protocol during the First and Second Succession Wars. Protections to prevent terrible things.
Concealing medical centers, medics, the elderly, and children, because the Aliens understood attacking them will provoke humans to fight harder.
Destroying navigation data at all costs, to buy as much time as possible. Concealment when resistance was futile.
Making an example of the fiercest fighters, but not to show the price of resistance. No, they would become trophies. On walls, armor, and vehicles when they attacked again.
Biohazard warnings for spores and whatever contagions the aliens may bring with them.
Not immediately destroying enemy food stores to prevent the attackers from considering people as an alternative food source. To her horror the Adeptus Mechanicus claimed they had made that mistake and were developing solutions to foul the taste of the dead before the aliens made it a norm.
Her ambassador was invited to come aboard and see it for herself. Live and dead samples were gathered and ready for her inspection. They would even surrender them to the Commonwealth upon its request, so long as it was on its own territory. The Chief-Fabricator emphasized his willingness to immediately share their evidence.
Someone knocked at her door. Followed by three evenly spaced knocks at just the right parts of the door... She knew who it was. "Come in." She immediately answered.
Nondi almost stalked into her office. Despite the ongoing crisis, she looked as well kept as ever. Long years in office and insight only a sibling would know told her another story. Her sister was very tired, and irritated. Concealing it with a zeal she normally only spared for staying out of politics.
Her irate sister almost plopped down in her chair, almost sighing in relief. She spoke up when Nondi seemed content to sit there in silence.
"Have you read through the proposed Black Coast Protocol?" She asked, handing her the admittedly thick (in comparison to the rest) report.
"Yes. And I completely agree with it. If," she ventured, quickly flicking through the pages. "-that's what's out there." That page. One she dearly hoped against all odds was blown out of proportion.
The Alien Flagship. Behemoth. Killer of 4 Adeptus Mechanicus ships. Each apparently a peer to the overbearing Indomitable Spirit in orbit around Atreus. An impossible mountain sized heap of metal and violence. And potentially FTL capable and energy shielded if the report was to be believed.
"I'm not a naval commander by any means, but I can't think of any way to fight it." Nondi admitted, face scrunching up at the admission of failure. Truth be told, some of the best naval strategists in her staff couldn't think of an answer either. Initial threat assessments ranged from total orbital dominance to invasion armies in the tens of millions. Her sister lightly scanned the pages, rereading what she already undoubtedly knew.
She suppressed her surprise as best she could. Even for all her avoidance of politics, Nondi knew what a statement like that would do if it was heard by the public. And…likely why she admitted it here.
Nondi blinked at her, studying her. "What did the mechanicus send?" She must be more tired than she thought if Nondi could read her like this.
"The Chief-Fabricator received the Peace Proposal from the Ambassador 2 days ago." She reached for a printed letter on the side of her desk. "He appears to be receptive to the idea and has promised to have a response in 2 weeks."
Nondi silently read through it. "He wants a ceasefire?" She questioned when she finished.
"Yes. Between all 5 Houses and the Periphery. And is offering to give the Commonwealth substantial technology if we agree. He plans to meet on Terra to show us their evidence." Nondi cautiously perked up at the mention of technology.
"Is there a date?"
"None so far, but Comstar has already agreed to serve as hosts. Their confirmation came this morning. First, a summit to verify their findings and evidence, and then to discuss terms."
Nondi paused in thought. "Do we know what he offered the Free Worlds League?" The other question that was playing havoc on Tharkad.
"He wouldn't say. Ambassador Henrietta decided not to push the matter after the first refusal." While he had phrased it very politely, the Chief-Fabricator had deflected from answering the question.
Nondi tsked at that. Likely from her own difficulties tackling the question.
A small faction in the Estates General had tried to approach her in the mad dash to assume a narrative. There was a growing fear their ancestral enemy had made a powerful ally. One with overbearing technology and military might. The Indomitable Spirit seemed to sport little if any meaningful damage. The limited combat footage shared indicated its weapons were frighteningly real, and still operational.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Come in." A messenger quickly passed through the door, carrying a file. There was an angry red Urgent emblazoned on the side with the seal of the LIC.
The woman bowed to them before depositing the file. She dismissed them with a gesture before opening it. Two separate documents. 'Indomitable Spirit in Terra System' and 'Free Wolds League Instability'. Instability? The Indomitable Spirit was by Terra? Ignoring the horrifying reveal of how far 16 kilometers of warship could jump, she detected an opportunity. Perhaps negotiations had broken down? She picked up the report on the FWL first. Nondi waited for the door to completely close before leaning forward to grab the other.
She would have thanked Nondi for the help, if her mind wasn't preoccupied with the wonderful opening Janos Marik and Parliament had just given her.
++++
"Primus, the Adeptus Mechanicus has forwarded the 'Black Coast Proposal' to all 5 House Lords and multiple Periphery states. Initial reports indicate that all House Lords are receptive to the concept. The Free Worlds League will have a committee formed by the end of the month to begin formatting legislation. Coordinator Kurita has authorized Subhash Indrahar to begin work securing information on Luthien and their coreworlds. We are currently unable to find any record on Chancellor Liao's activities or thoughts regarding it..."
-Precentor ROM, in direct conversation with Primus Tiepolo, before the First Circuit. February 10th, 3020.
[Sidestory 7 End]
Tharkad
The Triad
Late Evening
…
Psychological profiles indicate Alien forces would not hesitate to immediately initiate a complete and total invasion of human space if in possession of navigational data. The current lack of alien vessels appearing within the Periphery and Inner Sphere confirms Operation Alexandria's success.
The aliens do not know the location of mankind's worlds. Currently, opposing alien super-capital warships is not possible. It is imperative to maintain this strategic advantage.
It is the recommendation of the Adeptus Mechanicus that all nations and peoples immediately secure any and all navigational data related to the locations, positions and borders of human worlds for the benefit and safety of all. Protocols must be established to ensure these objectives are met in full.
Furthermore…
Katrina Steiner, Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth put down the heavy packet down back onto her desk. One of many, many reports forwarded by her ambassador on Atreus. They covered a variety of topics, from fungal growth tables to invasion protocols. Heavily so.
So much that she planned on adopting several of them. More worryingly, many of them resembled existing legislation and protocol during the First and Second Succession Wars. Protections to prevent terrible things.
Concealing medical centers, medics, the elderly, and children, because the Aliens understood attacking them will provoke humans to fight harder.
Destroying navigation data at all costs, to buy as much time as possible. Concealment when resistance was futile.
Making an example of the fiercest fighters, but not to show the price of resistance. No, they would become trophies. On walls, armor, and vehicles when they attacked again.
Biohazard warnings for spores and whatever contagions the aliens may bring with them.
Not immediately destroying enemy food stores to prevent the attackers from considering people as an alternative food source. To her horror the Adeptus Mechanicus claimed they had made that mistake and were developing solutions to foul the taste of the dead before the aliens made it a norm.
Her ambassador was invited to come aboard and see it for herself. Live and dead samples were gathered and ready for her inspection. They would even surrender them to the Commonwealth upon its request, so long as it was on its own territory. The Chief-Fabricator emphasized his willingness to immediately share their evidence.
Someone knocked at her door. Followed by three evenly spaced knocks at just the right parts of the door... She knew who it was. "Come in." She immediately answered.
Nondi almost stalked into her office. Despite the ongoing crisis, she looked as well kept as ever. Long years in office and insight only a sibling would know told her another story. Her sister was very tired, and irritated. Concealing it with a zeal she normally only spared for staying out of politics.
Her irate sister almost plopped down in her chair, almost sighing in relief. She spoke up when Nondi seemed content to sit there in silence.
"Have you read through the proposed Black Coast Protocol?" She asked, handing her the admittedly thick (in comparison to the rest) report.
"Yes. And I completely agree with it. If," she ventured, quickly flicking through the pages. "-that's what's out there." That page. One she dearly hoped against all odds was blown out of proportion.
The Alien Flagship. Behemoth. Killer of 4 Adeptus Mechanicus ships. Each apparently a peer to the overbearing Indomitable Spirit in orbit around Atreus. An impossible mountain sized heap of metal and violence. And potentially FTL capable and energy shielded if the report was to be believed.
"I'm not a naval commander by any means, but I can't think of any way to fight it." Nondi admitted, face scrunching up at the admission of failure. Truth be told, some of the best naval strategists in her staff couldn't think of an answer either. Initial threat assessments ranged from total orbital dominance to invasion armies in the tens of millions. Her sister lightly scanned the pages, rereading what she already undoubtedly knew.
She suppressed her surprise as best she could. Even for all her avoidance of politics, Nondi knew what a statement like that would do if it was heard by the public. And…likely why she admitted it here.
Nondi blinked at her, studying her. "What did the mechanicus send?" She must be more tired than she thought if Nondi could read her like this.
"The Chief-Fabricator received the Peace Proposal from the Ambassador 2 days ago." She reached for a printed letter on the side of her desk. "He appears to be receptive to the idea and has promised to have a response in 2 weeks."
Nondi silently read through it. "He wants a ceasefire?" She questioned when she finished.
"Yes. Between all 5 Houses and the Periphery. And is offering to give the Commonwealth substantial technology if we agree. He plans to meet on Terra to show us their evidence." Nondi cautiously perked up at the mention of technology.
"Is there a date?"
"None so far, but Comstar has already agreed to serve as hosts. Their confirmation came this morning. First, a summit to verify their findings and evidence, and then to discuss terms."
Nondi paused in thought. "Do we know what he offered the Free Worlds League?" The other question that was playing havoc on Tharkad.
"He wouldn't say. Ambassador Henrietta decided not to push the matter after the first refusal." While he had phrased it very politely, the Chief-Fabricator had deflected from answering the question.
Nondi tsked at that. Likely from her own difficulties tackling the question.
A small faction in the Estates General had tried to approach her in the mad dash to assume a narrative. There was a growing fear their ancestral enemy had made a powerful ally. One with overbearing technology and military might. The Indomitable Spirit seemed to sport little if any meaningful damage. The limited combat footage shared indicated its weapons were frighteningly real, and still operational.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Come in." A messenger quickly passed through the door, carrying a file. There was an angry red Urgent emblazoned on the side with the seal of the LIC.
The woman bowed to them before depositing the file. She dismissed them with a gesture before opening it. Two separate documents. 'Indomitable Spirit in Terra System' and 'Free Wolds League Instability'. Instability? The Indomitable Spirit was by Terra? Ignoring the horrifying reveal of how far 16 kilometers of warship could jump, she detected an opportunity. Perhaps negotiations had broken down? She picked up the report on the FWL first. Nondi waited for the door to completely close before leaning forward to grab the other.
She would have thanked Nondi for the help, if her mind wasn't preoccupied with the wonderful opening Janos Marik and Parliament had just given her.
++++
"Primus, the Adeptus Mechanicus has forwarded the 'Black Coast Proposal' to all 5 House Lords and multiple Periphery states. Initial reports indicate that all House Lords are receptive to the concept. The Free Worlds League will have a committee formed by the end of the month to begin formatting legislation. Coordinator Kurita has authorized Subhash Indrahar to begin work securing information on Luthien and their coreworlds. We are currently unable to find any record on Chancellor Liao's activities or thoughts regarding it..."
-Precentor ROM, in direct conversation with Primus Tiepolo, before the First Circuit. February 10th, 3020.
[Sidestory 7 End]
Chapter 6: Terra
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 5, 3020
Terra System
Indomitable Spirit Command Bridge
Terran Afternoon
{+}Communications: Approach instructions given. Forwarding.{+}
{-}Navigation: Received.{-}
{-}Chief-Fabricator: Received. Transmitting new orders.{-}
{-}Archmagos Serallo: Received.{-}
{-}Archmagos Nua'x I-53: Received.{-}
{-}…101 Additional Responses{-}
A comprehensive set of instructions, 15 pages. Only a 2-minute read. Comstar's paranoia was a benefit, their wording was precise, with little room for misinterpretation.
They wanted me to stay much farther from the planet than the Free Worlds League. Over 400,000 kilometers away, and at the South Pole instead of the North. The Indomitable Spirit was asked to jump tomorrow, after they cleared the 'airspace'. I was invited to the Hilton Hotel tomorrow morning. Of course Comstar would have the gall to make me drop everything to come here, and then turn around and ask me to wait.
Interestingly, there was no demand for an escort. Not even a "mercenary" company conveniently on Terra.
{+}Communications: Diplomatic Inquiries Received. Forwarding{+}
{-}Chief-Fabricator: Received{-}
They wanted a primer on Adeptus Mechanicus norms, cultural habits, and history. All in the name of ensuring good diplomatic relations. An unfortunately reasonable request. One that the Free Worlds League branch had refrained from over confirming my claims and accepting the technology.
History was information, and information granted insight. It was how they crippled the Clans. I felt the rare pain of an incoming headache. There was a great deal we needed to adopt. The Men of Iron, a Dark Age, Crusades, a Civil War and the Fall. Again, narratives. Words alone can shape history.
I approved the request.
{+}Chief-Fabricator: Prepare Codex and forward to Comstar diplomatic channels{+}
{+}Communications: Compliance.{+}
The data packet was sent. Over 1,000 pages of details.
I let my mind wander. We already made security protocols for Terra. My schedule was empty for the next 13 minutes and 12 seconds. As long I spent it in useful introspection, the time wouldn't be wasted. Mars appeared on the screen. 'Home'. One which we would negotiate heavily for. An intentional flaw. Peoples had wants and desires, that shaped their societies and vice versa. A false handle was far simpler to manage than an actual.
"And one when, we will reclaim the glories of ages past. One day, we will stride atop the galaxy. And on that day, we shall return to Sacred Mars, bathed in rays of gold…" I whispered our oath.
I was mangling Imperial history for my own ends. My choices had quite literally changed this galaxy. Over 500 lightyears of space south of the Periphery doesn't match star charts or even the light from past stars anymore. Cosmic phenomena that were detectable from hundreds of lightyears were gone, changed, or suddenly replaced. The 'unique' culture and nomadic lifestyle needed an adequate explanation. Our comparably more permanent lostech situation required re-contextualization.
Words. The right words could win a war before the first shot is fired. Sometimes before the thought of it even enters anyone's minds. There was a strong foundation. The core tenants of cooperation have been made: I have established myself, presented a common interest, and made a call to action.
I wondered if my words were strong enough.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Terra
Hilton Hotel
Late Evening
"Hello everyone, this Mary Cruz with Comstar News Bureau, coming to you with breaking news." A woman said from behind the newscasters' desk.
A white robed man quickly ran up on set and sat himself down. "And I'm Kyle Sterner. We're coming back to you with our 24/7 coverage of Indomitable Spirit. For those just joining us, the Indomitable has finally made way for Terra. Experts calculate the ship will arrive in only 2 days."
The screen changed to a live view of the warship. A simple 3D model was depicted approach Terra's equator. Sterner's eyes shifted slightly to the right before widening. A man ran onto the stage and handed them both a sheet of paper. Kyle sterner quickly scanned it before looking up.
"We have just received new information. The Adeptus Mechanicus has received the go ahead from the Primus to jump to Terra-" Mary exclaimed. Pale purple light gathered at the front of the vessel, before a roiling portal tore itself into existence. The view switched again to a side profile, provided by a very well paid dropship.
"Oh Blake." Kyle whispered too quietly for the mic to pick up, hands gripping the paper.
"Oh my goodness!" Mary gasped as they watched the ship streeech-
And disappear. The screen quickly shifted. "Please wait a moment while we try to locate the Indomitable Spirit." Mary said as they turned back to the camera. A minute passed as the pair gathered their bearings.
Again, the screen changed. TERRA SOUTH POLE was emblazoned on the top left of the live feed.
The colossal Indomitable Spirit hung under Terra, its guns turned away. Movement. The starboard side opened to the void of space. It stretched for kilometers. A glowing barrier separated the hanger from the void of space. It was staggeringly large, housing hundreds of vessels and thousands of workers. The camera zoomed in, until it could make out the small figures moving to and fro. Large figures walked among them. Among the hundreds of spacecraft, a trip of dropships and an ASF slowly rose into the air.
[-----------------]
February 6, 3020
Terra
Hilton Island
Morning
The landing pad was mostly empty. Despite their best efforts, most of Terra's news agencies were barred from documenting the delegation arriving. A Comstar News Bureau team took a recording from a respectable distance away, caster speaking into their microphone. On the landing pad itself, two stern-faced adepts stood behind a calm demi-precentor.
The convoy of "Landers" started to descend. The lone ASF, a 'Xiphos', was only allowed to escort the Chief-Fabricator to and from Hilton Island departed. Secret scanners returned little information. In some instances, the readings didn't match what they saw with their own eyes. The few hidden weapons placements remained inactive, unwilling to draw any attention.
"Demi-precentor-" One of them began, before being interrupted. "Its too late to make any comments now. They can see and hear anything we say from this point on." She spoke. And that was that.
ROM's analysis on their capabilities was very concerning. Most of the Adeptus Mechanicus were above the baseline human. It was irritating and would no doubt lead to further issues when speaking with them. She would have to be at her very best for this meeting.
The leading Lander came down with all the grace of the brick it so closely tried to resemble. Hot air blasted at them. She idly considered how the recording will look. They must have looked quite gallant, wind blowing at their robes, sun rising in the distance. ROM and the CNB would dress it quite nicely.
Its doors opened. Two rows of tall, red-robed monsters marched down the ramp. Following them were two power armored Giants, an 'astartes' and what seemed to be regular humans. A small swarm of fat disk like drones hovered around them. And at their head, the man that had taken the Inner Sphere and Periphery by storm.
The Chief-Fabricator had arrived. She paid little attention to the armored figures, that would be attended by more learned members of the Order.
His appearance had changed compared to his private meetings on Atreus. The most obvious change was his robes. They had been modified to cover even more of his torso, leaving only brief glimpses of his metal body. He bore a tall axe in his right hand, its head shaped like a gear. A glowing red pistol rested on his hip. Next to it was his mask. A long strip of…parchment ran down his robe's left shoulder on both sides, almost down to his feet. It was secured with a waxy blue seal in the shape of a gear. Foreign script covered it.
The large rubber block covering the bottom of the thick staff made no noise as it landed in time with his footsteps. For such a large being, he was alarmingly quick. In mere moments he was before her. Unflattering comparisons to ground vehicles came to her mind as he came to a stop.
"Good morning Chief-Fabricator Malcador, welcome to Terra." She diplomatically greeted. "I am Demi-Precentor Lara Hughs." Members of the diplomatic corp almost came to blows on what she was allowed to say. The First Circuit had given them precious little time to fully read the Codex. Ultimately, after much deliberation and compromise, she was given a list of very neutral terms and responses she was authorized to give.
"Greetings Demi-Precentor Hughes." Came the robotic reply, not even trying to pretend to be human. He glanced at the camera crew and back to her. "Is this a live broadcast?"
"No, Chief-Fabricator." She replied politely. There were many potential reasons why the Mechanicus would want to avoid a live viewing. Concerns over further FWL backlash. A desire not to be put in the spotlight. She dared not consider what would happen if they had more violent intentions.
A red-robed attendee walked to his right, and handed the Chief-Fabricator a large, armored suitcase. The hulking cyborg before her was no small man, and the case was sizeable for him. He extended it to her. The right Lander opened with a hiss. A vast machine sat on some kind of hover platform.
"What is this?" She asked, accepting the heavy suitcase. Oh. That was unpleasant. At 54 years old, she was not the spry young woman she once was. This thing must have weighed over 30 kilograms (66.13 pounds). Thankfully, one her assistants quickly took the burden upon himself. She pretended not to notice his muffled grunt of exertion. Diplomacy demanded he hold it rather than let it rest on the tarmac.
"One of the most important technological discoveries in history and now transferred to Comstar." He stated. She allowed her eyes to widen slightly. A bold claim and to her irritation, likely true.
"If you could humor me, do you perhaps know what was invented in the year 1928?" Malcador asked. That was during pre-spaceflight Terra. Pre-fusion… Sometime during the world wars. At the thought of those conflicts, she suppressed a grimace. What kind of horror were they now holding?
"I am afraid nothing comes to mind Chief-Fabricator." She answered, indulging in the spectacle. The First Circuit could turn this into a scandal, to further pin them in place.
"Understandable Demi-Precentor. My apologies for asking such a specific question. The invention was penicillin." She tried to consider the implications. Of course a society as advanced as the Adeptus Mechanicus would possess equally advanced medicine. But to mention Penicillin, if what she remembered was correct, one of the biggest discoveries in pre-space flight human history…
She did not respond, waiting for him to elaborate. Representative Miles hypothesized that unless the subject appeared deep in thought, the Chief-Fabricator was prone to over explanation. An unnoticed cultural aspect and potential avenue for obtaining information.
"You now hold the paper and digital blueprints for the Panacea. The ultimate medicine. With the exception of extreme neurological damage, psychological issues, or literal magic, human disease, is over." He pointed to the machine sitting in the lander. She mentally reeled at the statement. States Leaders did not make such stringent guarantees. Who would-? This was beyond what she, anyone, had expected.
Such a claim would need a very concise response.
"I beg your pardon?" Was what she actually said. No! To her relief, her aids were failing to suppress their surprise. The Primus could be convinced it was far too surprising for any reasonable person to hold their composure.
"That is a moderate sized production unit, capable of producing approximately 2,000 samples a day at max capacity. I have brought one for your immediate use." A part of her was happy for such a ridiculous claim. One the Blessed Order would fervently use to undermine them for making such promises.
"And I am willing to demonstrate and prove its use upon your request." Her awe at the potential prize in their names was somewhat snuffed. There it was again. That reckless desire to shove proof in their faces. Did they think them idiots? Did they not understand the disruptions it caused? She had thought Precentor Atreus had warned him of the economic damages their announcement had and will cause.
She ignored the small whisper of fear that this was real. That they asked for nothing. And what that would mean.
Years of training and the instinctive threat of displeasing the more extreme elements of the Order pushed her forward. "The Order thanks you for your gift, Chief-Fabricator." Came the rehearsed line. What else was she to do? Tell him to take the alleged "panacea" away? Reject it? The snakes would eat her alive. Regardless if it was true or false.
[-----------------]
February 6, 3020
Hilton Hotel
Diplomatic Chamber 1
Morning
As expected, Comstar rolled out the not so metaphorical red carpet. They were the official diplomats of Battletech, and that carried expectations. The room was tastefully decorated. Everything inside was clearly high quality, from the authentic natural wood table to the reinforced comstar white colored seating. However, unlike an Imperial noble, they clearly understood the difference between tasteful and decadent design. The dissonance between the facade and their actual activities was far more apparent now that I was experiencing it.
"Greetings Chief-Fabricator." The Primus began as we shook hands. I couldn't place the slight accent. Italian was too strong a description, but it was close. Something in that area of Europe? He showed no signs of disgust at my cybernetics. There was little reaction to the noticeable height difference between us. The primus was no short man, but I easily had almost half a meter on him.
"And to you as well, Primus." I replied, mask at my hip. My weapons and guards had been left at the door, a 'cultural' sign of our willingness to talk and respect.
Thankfully, neither of us held it longer than a few seconds.
Our assistants and staff waited for us to take our seats before taking theirs. The chairs seemed sturdy enough. Mine let out a soft hiss, but nothing more. A magos returned a scan. The structure of each seat was heavily reinforced. These covers were more reinforced tarp than actual cloth.
[Comstar diplomacy, hard at work.]
To my hidden amusement, both our parties began taking out papers and various devices. They had brought an alarming amount of paper with them. Almost as much as we did. My scanner counted some 900 pages of documents.
Nine hundred wasn't even close to the entirety of what I had sent over. I was tall enough to read the top pages of their documents without being noticed. One of the Primus' aides had even brought an abridged copy of the fleet records. That was easily 100 pages of paper in small font. And in…Times New Roman. The Free Worlds League used something called Baskerville.
The Primus himself brought a simple noteputer and a thin packet of unmarked papers. Only 10 pages. Likely his aides had read through all the documents, and he was given broad summaries.
We were going to be here for the rest of the week, minimum. A month if he decided to be difficult. Was that their next move, stall me with long meetings and bureaucracy?
"To begin, I would like to extend my condolences to your people. I have watched a number of your battleroms." A flicker of emotion entered his voice. Sympathy, but not enough to suggest pity. "No people should suffer such grievous harm."
{+}Emotion Scanner: Moderate Sympathy. Disturbed. Nervousness. Stress. 32% Accuracy.{+} A low rating. And no sign of fear. Various muscular scans suggested a degree of truth, but that was not the entire story. He was masking it disturbingly well. The only undeniable facet was his heart rate. It was stable, but appeared above high. I tried to recall what I could of Julian Tiepolo. My memories pre-augmentation were unorganized and not easily as recallable. Didn't he have heart problems in the future?
"Thank you, Primus Tiepolo." I responded. The Panacea would solve that. My staff haven't found Mad Myndo in any public records so far, but I knew she was out there. For now, Julian Tiepolo appeared far more stable than his canon successor.
"What topic would you wish to discuss first?" I offered. Comstar already knew my stance.
"A considerable amount of materials have been forwarded to Comstar, and for that we thank you. However, we are concerned with the degree of aggression you have described." The hologram emitter at the center of the table activated. I recognized the files. Our most damning analysis of ork aggression. The center file was the final conclusion.
[This report concludes that peace between mankind and the alien race is impossible. Co-existence is not achievable. Their intrinsic nature is anathema to mankind's. All attempts at negotiation, diplomacy, and communication have failed. Their existence is a threat to human life.]
"I am concerned of the contents of the 3rd series of documents you have forwarded to us." He calmly said. One of the aides handed the report to him.
"These reports imply," He paused to take a breath. "That their continued existence will result in our extinction." There was the word the reports danced around, but never stated. Extinction. The end of our species. I let my eye clicked as I scanned the table. No shock.
"That is correct. There will be only one conclusion to this conflict." Us or them. There would be room for mercy. No outcome of peace. Total war on a scale unseen in history.
I was very surprised he would discuss it, even though it was plain in writing. If he agreed to our reports, then that would mean Comstar has damned humanity. Holy Shroud could be a contribution to our extinction. This was beyond mere politics. Their very way of life, their religion could not withstand a failure of that scale.
That elicited a reaction. Quickly aborted signs of anger and disagreement, too subtle for the naked eye to perceive. Nothing obvious enough for me to call on. And likely nothing enough for other members of the Order to comment on. [But when were people actually reasonable? I wonder…is the Primus only managing this discussion? Or the aftermath as well, when the First Circuit gathers.] From my understanding, the power of the Primus was never truly cemented, politics influenced their actual ability to work.
Primus Tiepolo remained unmoved. It was different from Janos, who seemed more inclined to bring out the metaphorical steel when under pressure. He appeared calm, stable.
"Your assessment is alarming, Chief-Fabricator. However, while your message is more than clear, it is critical Comstar make its own investigation." Fair enough.
"Thus, we cannot agree with your message at this time, not until we have thoroughly assessed the details you have forwarded us. Extinction is a powerful word to use, and must be given the scrutiny it deserves." He put down the report. Pointedly, it remained on the top of his papers.
"I too, care for humanity's future." He added, before slightly adjusting his robes, despite them not needing it. Nervous tick, a habit, or an act? "Comstar is committed to the safety and prosperity of mankind. I propose a joint investigation between Comstar and the Adeptus Mechanicus."
"We accept."
[-----------------]
February 6, 3020
Terra Surface
Hilton Hotel
Later Afternoon
Primus Julien Tiepolo refused to let his growing frustration get the better of him. [Blake give me strength.] This meeting was going to give him a migraine.
The Adeptus Mechanicus seemed to enjoy data for the pure sake of it. No facet was left unexplained. No context unexplored. Minutia left only to subject matter experts covered in painful detail as their groups dove into the data they had assembled.
And he had to force himself to listen to every piece of it. It was almost like a college class from Hell. If he fell behind, he would never be able to catch up.
His grasp of Chief-Fabricator was tenuous. He only partially understood its desires. The towering cyborg showed no emotion, no feeling, as it detailed what Malcador claimed to be their imminent doom. At the same times, its eyes remained almost exclusively focused on him, only moving when someone else was speaking.
His staff tried to subtly prod at their evidence and conclusions, both to prevent any missteps from directly reflecting on his position and to lend their incredible talents to curtail the Adeptus Mechanicus' arguments.
Instead, with no hesitation, they had counterpoints already prepared.
Every member of the Chief-Fabricator's party was heavily augmented aside from 3 people. Either they had a literal photographic memory or recorded every moment of their lives. He was also certain they were communicating with each other. Which meant the group as a whole was likely answering their questions instead of each individual.
"There's a document referenced here, it is unnamed, but hypothesizes we are not the first species to face them." Adept Logan of ROM asked.
An 'Archmagos' to the far left of the table leaned forward. Its name card identified it as Archmagos Logis. "<Small Electronic Beep>. Affirmative. This hypothesis is supported by secondhand data and direct samples retrieved from rescues from Cradle, Forerunner, and Vigilant Spark." Logis extended a mechadendrite into the ceiling holoprojector.
He noted the ease at which the machine man manipulated their equipment.
Soon enough it began displaying footage from inside Behemoth itself. The hologram changed to a 3D scan of a vessel.
"Forces stranded aboard Behemoth continued to transmit data while operating within its interior. Deep Scouting parties quickly discovered Behemoth is not a singular vessel. It is composed of hundreds of vessels and materials, crudely bound together.
Of these vessels, we noted the existence of potentially 8 separate species of entities, of which 1 was recognized." A symbol appeared next to the scan. The Tan'ova. The supposed alien creators of a derelict vessel the Adeptus Mechanicus discovered centuries ago. A discovery that had propelled them thousands of years ahead of the Star League.
Other vessels appeared next the Tan'ova vessel. Strange, foreign things.
"The Fourth and Tenth Maniples were able to successfully salvage numerous corpses, technological samples, and various artifacts before their destruction." Red dots denoting what appeared to be the Fourth and Tenth's progress through Behemoth. The red lights began to grow duller and duller before abruptly disappearing. A somber red 'Connection Lost' appeared over both of their locations.
"As they delved deeper into Behemoth's interior, salvage parties were ordered to return bearing whatever they had discovered. Enough samples were recovered to confirm these 8 alien species were separate entities." Archmagos Logis continued.
The holoboard was quickly growing crowded, now including autopsy reports. No doubt their corpses were ready for presentation if they dared question their legitimacy.
Logan did not let up. "Why was it not included in the files? What is lacking in the analysis?" He understood the what the aging man why trying to imply. If it was material, the Adeptus Mechanicus would have included it.
The Chief-Fabricator spoke instead. "The decision was mine." He said, shielding his subordinate. "This information is still suspect at this time, and confirmation is statistically unlikely. Additionally, implications of this hypothesis are…unpleasant."
The various diagrams disappeared, replaced with a map of the Inner Sphere and Periphery. Their small slice of the galaxy shrunk as it zoomed out. A simple circle sitting in the vast cosmos of the galaxy. A fog like blanket covered the space south of the Periphery.
"These alien races are likely located far from each other, by extension, human space. Thus, the invaders are present across the galaxy if they have fought them."
In the far distance, tens of thousands of light years began to glow red.
"By its very nature, the Devourer does not leave if there is additional conflict to partake in. They will not stop unless they are killed to the last or forced to retreat. Then, they will return."
The red line slowly engulfed the space, creeping up the hologram, towards mankind.
"If a fleet of this size is currently exploring uninhabited portions of space, it can be assumed that they have successfully conquered, and eliminated these species.
Should this hypothesis prove correct, the Tan'ova, who we previously believed to hail from the Galactic South, are dead or dying to the invaders."
He had to hide his clenched hands in his robes, and under the desk. Why did every attempt to alleviate the situation reveal some fresh new horror?
"Taken to its logical conclusion, mankind is the latest in a galactic scale conquest or genocide."
The red finally stopped, just outside the Adeptus Mechanicus' territory. It grew long, arcing until it ran along over half of human space. It ran so long it disappeared back into the fog,
The Chief-Fabricator did not continue.
[-----------------]
February 6, 3020
Terra Orbit, South Pole
Indomitable Spirit
Early Evening
The meeting was…acceptable. By tomorrow, Comstar's ambassador and investigative team would come onboard to begin our investigation. They were sending a group of 50, composed of biologists, amateur xenologists, and no doubt hidden ROM agents.
I expected Comstar to not just dig in its heels. No, I expected the Primus to stick his head in the sand, waste my time, and then prepare a ROM made welcoming gift. A part of me was worried the neutral stance was going to fade soon, and I would get to see how impudent and obstructive Comstar could be.
{+}Neural-Regulator: Stress levels have maintained stable at rest-level activity for 3 hours. Deactivating.{+} I ignored the final hiss at the back of my head as the minor dose of chemicals stopped pumping into my head.
I had ways to force the matter if they really dismissed me. The Indomitable Spirit was the one place they couldn't truly influence galactic events. It was a nation unto itself. Sovereign territory. Treaties would be signed onboard. Galaxy changing agreements would be made here. Where it goes, history changes.
If they wouldn't cooperate, I would go elsewhere. Tempers faded with time. Parliament would be welcoming me back with open arms in a few weeks. Even now, Janos found himself no need to truly use his newfound powers. Unexpectedly, his supporters and many neutral groups in Parliament had formed a near unanimous power bloc. Almost unheard of in the Free Worlds League. No doubt there was all sorts of backroom dealing, but their government knew losing the Adeptus Mechanicus would cost them far too much for them to tolerate.
The Captain-General seemed to be handling things well on Atreus. Whatever Parliament and Comstar were planning seems to have simmered down.
I lightly tapped a finger on the freshly refurbished armrests on the throne. There were ambassadors onboard now. I had an image to maintain.
{+}Indomitable Communications: High priority message received from HPG. Subject: Missive from First Prince Hanse Davion. Transmitting.{+}
{-}Chief-Fabricator: Received.{-}
That was the thirteenth one today. I nearly had a heart attack when I received a handwritten message from the Coordinator this morning. Diplomatic messages have started to fly in. Just as I planned, everyone wanted to get their foot in the door. Somewhat worryingly, I didn't recognize a fifth of the polities sending me messages. I never heard of the Aurigan Coalition, Barony of Strang, Belters, or the Niops Association. The rest were…barely legitimate bandit kingdoms, that might be recognized by some the Successor Houses.
That letter from the Marian Hegemony was going to be a pain in the ass. I knew they had germanium, enough to ignite jumpship production for potentially centuries. As unreliable as battletech FTL was, it was far more stable than warp drives. Besides, making a shipyard for warp capable ships was going to take years. Humanity would need to coast on Clan and Comstar infrastructure for now.
Which was unfortunate as the Marians conducted a set of raids on fringe worlds in the Free Worlds League AND Magistry of Canopus only 2 weeks before Christmas day, last year. An estimated 225 civilians and 48 militia members are now held abroad in literal slavery, joining hundreds more held on their worlds.
I opened the file. Typed, and not slightly crooked like the Coordinator's scanned letter. I was going to assume that was some sort of Comstar meddling, and not have some poor retainer stripped of everything they know and love.
Dear Chief-Fabricator Malcador,
I write to you today on behalf of the Federated Suns, and as one who values co-operation, security, and the safety of one's people.
Your nation has my deepest sympathies and condolences for the tragedy that has befallen your people. I am both deeply saddened and greatly concerned by the reports I have received. I thank you for extending this vital information so freely.
The Federated Suns hears the urgency of your words, and heeds the danger you warn us of. The data you have sent us is comprehensive and through, and I believe further discussions between our people would be invaluable. It is my hope we will begin a formal, direct dialogue to discuss these matters further.
Please know that Federated Suns is prepared to offer our aid, at no cost, in the form of medical supplies, food, and any other such materials needed for the continued health of your people.
We await your response.
First Prince Hanse Davion, Commander of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, Duke of New Avalon,…
That was a lot of titles. And of course, the ever-present First Lord. Interesting that the listed his position as CiC first.
More importantly, this letter was out of date. Comstar confirmed the summit yesterday. I didn't hold anything against the First Prince. The letter would have taken over a day to make it to Atreus, and now it would need to be rerouted back to Terra. This must have been written as soon as they got word.
Compared to what I've read on astropathic choirs, these were insane response times. Goodness knows what the Emperor would have paid for access to reliable FTL communications.
I'd need to make a response soon. I opened my document program. [Thank goodness my laptop had been taken on the journey with me.] I had Microsoft word ripped out of it after trying my hand at the Mechanicus' programs.
First Prince Hanse Davion…
[-----------------]
February 14, 3020
Terran Orbit
En-route to Comstar ran Charity Hospital
Morning
I was thankful for the relatively quiet days. Comstar had started their observations on the samples I held onboard. A trio of live Orks were delivered to a warehouse on Luna. They were probably on their way to some ROM blacksite for God knows what.
The Houses and various Periphry States were preparing their ambassadors. I had a meeting with the 'Belters' later in 4 days, with a dropship making way for Terra.
But as expected, Comstar had other plans in mind. They issued a Challenge. The ambassador phrased it politely, more by insinuation than overt accusation, and took advantage of my willingness to prove my claims if asked, but it was nonethless a challenge. They doubted Panacea. They doubted the claim that disease, was over. By extension, they doubted my word. Not one of my claims could be debunked if I wanted the political influence to adequately prepare. And that would not do.
So, we accepted it. With only partially faked offense, I offered for Comstar to pick a hospital. Aside from the psychological or extreme neurologically damaged patients, we'd empty it in 2 weeks. I would personally attend and operate. Ambassador Cole apologized for any unintended offense, and sent my request.
Within the hour, the Primus had a location for us. A small hospital out in modern-day Mongolia, with 200 or so patients. The hospital agreed to our arrival. I would manage the effort for the first two days, before handing things to Archmagos Aurumux.
Since I was arriving personally, I could justify bring a larger security detail. A pair of operations team were in place alongside the actual security in case anything…untoward happened.
The charity hospital, mostly funded by Comstar, was located in a town far from any major city. The gawking citizens and intrusive press tried their best to get a look, but remained respectfully away. I mostly ignored them. I had little faith in my current Mongolian translator, and Comstar would deal with any news outbreak anyway.
"Greetings Director Arban." I said in english with a short handshake to the presumably Mongolian man. The nervous director looked to his staff for support in a moment of weakness before turning back to me. Arban couldn't choose which of my eyes to focus on. I didn't mention it. I knew I cut an imposing figure.
"Greetings to you as well Chief-Fabricator." He replied in mostly unaccented English. Apparently almost 63% of Terrans knew English thanks to the Star League. It allegedly was higher in the days of the Star League, approaching 80%. As fascinating as alternate earth was proving to be, dissecting that fact would come another time.
We made our way deeper into the hospital.
"My thanks for your accommodation Director. Rest assured, your patients will receive the highest possible care in the Galaxy." I said, trying to put some warmth into my voice.
At that, the Director was unable to conceal his doubt, but he simply look forward. "Is it true?" He almost whispered. The man looked small amongst my guards and staff.
"I do not know what exactly you were told, but I swear, by the end of this month, most of these people will healthy and disease free." The director managed to suppress a flash of concern. I believed knew that look. An answer you knew was right, but did not like in the slightest.
I idly wondered if this man was a Comstar plant or not. I saw no signs of Blakist iconography on his person. Then again, I saw no apparent signs of faith on his staff either. Logically, only a hospital they had a serious grasp on would be selected. It was out of the way, minimizing impact and chance of word leaking out. He likely was, or at least in their pocket.
"I was told that the Adeptus Mechanicus wanted to demonstrate an extreme medical advancement they had made." He remarked, eyes distant as he considered the possibilities. "One so powerful it would change history."
"That is correct. We only need access to the patients' files, and some time to interview them and their assigned doctors." I answered. I did not want to sideline this man so badly, but I needed to demonstrate it was entirely the us and the Panacea at work.
"With your permission, we could take begin treatment by tonight." I asked. Despite the politics at play, I would give him that one measure of respect. My people were my patients, and I the one responsible for their continued health and wellbeing. I wouldn't transfer them to another for care unless absolutely sure they were up to the task. This hospital was a charity and I was reasonably sure the director on some level prescribed to that idea.
However, the director knew he had no choice. His superiors were watching, eagerly waiting. If anything went wrong, Comstar would jump on the opportunity. They would be fools not to give me the chance to mess up. There was me, a foreign Head of State was pressuring him. An enemy I doubted he wanted to make. And finally, the public, his patients, and the outrage he would face if rejected this opportunity.
After a moment to consider his options, he granted my request.
{+}System-Order: Activate Rite of Parallel Thought.{+} My augments thrummed as my thoughts split. One for my immediate work, the other for managing the entire operation. It was time to begin our work. I brought 30 magos biologis, and 20 archmagos with considerable expertise in the subject. We descended on the patient records, consuming the data in only two hours. Our staff began to interview the patients and their doctors.
Servo-drones and techpriest aides began to roam the halls, scanning for more data.
Luckily, I was able to somewhat include the hospital staff beyond translators as very secondary aides. A handful of the doctors showed promise, quickly trying to pick up everything they could with the limited time they had.
Out of the 209 patients in the building, we could help 198. It was unfortunate, but the Panacea was very much hit or miss when it came to serious brain conditions. Sometimes a disease was only due to a misaligned neurons, and sometimes the brain was a complete mess. The Panacea would sooner their minds
Of the 198 in the building, 32 were in serious condition. They would be dealt with first. Aurumux was assigned to deal with the 23 adult and elderly patients. I would handle the far more delicate task of the children.
[-----------------]
February 15, 3020
Modern Day Mongolia
Naidvar (Hope) Hospital
Morning
Jack Sunderland of ROM suppressed his awe as dawn broke over Naidvar Hospital. It'd only been 18 hours since the Chief-Fabricator all but took over the hospital. His previous experience working in the Magistry of Canopus saw him being yanked from his quiet position in South America for a redeployment to Mongolia of all places.
There'd only been enough time to sleep off the jet lag before Malcador arrived.
His men(?) swept through the hospital. Drones roamed the halls, looking for signs of disease. A power-armored pair of 3 meter tall giants guarded the hospital's front doors. Strange mechanical figures stalked from the operating halls to patients' rooms. Bins of spare organs and transplant materials were emptied to provide for the patients' health.
And over the course of the night, everything changed.
The 'magos' assured patients of a 100% success rate, and that their health would be assured in 2 weeks. To his relief, they didn't tell the patients or their guardians they'd be receiving a cure-all. Only that they would be receiving top Adeptus Mechanicus care for undisclosed diplomatic matters. Around 110 or so patients accepted the change in provider. He knew by the end of the first week most them would change their minds.
18 Hours. They were already done with 81 of them. Only 48 of them needed surgery. After 3 hours of review and testing, each and every one of them was sent to the operating room. The Chief-Fabricator handled 3 surgeries essentially alone, back to back, with no breaks. He was in the middle of his 4th major surgery right now. He wouldn't stop until noon tomorrow.
The first set of patients had awakened from their operations and already showed signs of drastically improving health. Everyone that only received an injection of Panacea was showing the same thing. There were only 2 people left in hospice.
He almost hysterically went down the list.
Diabetes, multiple types? An injection, straight into the pancreas. A short 30 minute surgery. The patient were told to keep on their medicine for a few days, but they should be cured by the end of the month.
Sexually transmitted diseases? Immuno deficiency disorders? Another injection, this time across multiple arteries. He had received the blood work 10 hours after the injection. Drastically improved.
Cancer? A single 8 ounces of Panacea injected over 10 hours, and they were showing drastically improves health. Their tumors began to shrink, disappearing from the x-ray or any other type of scan.
Radiation poisoning? Cured.
Arthritis? Cured.
Missing limbs? Cloned limbs were just grafted on. A man stood again for the first time in years. Cured.
Kidney failure? Cured.
Heart diseases? Cured.
Huntington's? Cured.
Asthma? Cured.
A disability? He saw a formerly blind girl playing I spy with her brother on the 3rd floor.
The early onset of dementia? Cured.
A Blake damned allergy to peanuts? Cured.
Cured. Cured. Cured. Cured.
For the first time in its recorded history, this hospital was going to be mostly empty.
He felt numb. This would change everything. The course of human history. If penicillin was a light in the dark, Panacea was a star, banishing the darkness of disease for all time. Mankind would mark down the day when Panacea was created as a historical moment. Hisory would be divided in two eras. Before and after.
He…he didn't know what to do. Blake, he didn't know what to say. In the shadows of the hospital, he watched patients' joy as their conditions really did improve over only a day.
Aurumux P-79 had already gathered the footage, the patient data, and the doctors' testimonies for a live transmission to the Hilton Hotel. All but rubbing it in Primus' face that the Panacea truly did deserve its namesake.
Whatever Representative Cole's aide had said, it had kicked a hornet's nest. He didn't envy them.
The Adeptus Mechanicus were going to stay for 2 weeks to ensure they kept that impossible 100% success rate. Malcador was personally here to see it done. He mentally went over the plan the main office composed (this region didn't even have a local ROM office, let alone a team…). It was so distasteful, but political leverage was worth more than lives. He could only hope the car crash and other near-lethal accidents planned for tomorrow would slow them down.
[-----------------]
Time: Zog time, no Wah time.
Location: Loudy Box
"Subject 1 is awake".
Ah, dat's bright! Where da zog was 'e? Whoz dat? Everyfing smelt weird.
Some tiny git in woite was standin ova 'im. Why 'e outta-
Clack. Dey gots 'im chained up! 'E screamed at dat gitz. Dey got 'im ona table. Dey was makin weirdo click noises. Moar flashes ova 'is head. Soam git was mucking about in fronta 'im wiff a brown sheet. Clack. C'mere, YOU DOUBLE GIT!
"Subject 1 is approximately 210 kilograms (462.9 pounds) and 2.57 meters (8.43 feet) tall. Adamantium restraints supplied by Adeptus Mechanicus are functioning as intended. Subject 1 is hostile."
Moar zoggin click noyses. 'E roared at dese buncha grot sniffas. If 'e had his choppa, oi, dey looted 'is choppa! And 'is bitz!
"Subject 1 was born on board the Indomitable Spirit from late stage gestation spores confiscated from alien world 'Tempera'. Subject was kept mostly separate from prisoners, and is thus-not known to alien authorities."
One of dem got out a sharp choppa. An' a buncha wierdo stuff. Deys got a drill, lotsa hammuhs, an' stuff. 'E turned 'is 'ead uh'round.
Dey gotz-a buncha stabby bitz, Wit da glass toobes…. Wait a zog.
AH ZOG. DESE IS TINNIE PAIN BOYZ. 'E GOTZ TA GET OUUTA 'ERE! Clack! Clink!
"We begin experiments as soon as possible. I understand some of you may not be comfortable with testing on a live subject. Especially one of alien nature. Should you wish to be relocated, it will be granted."
Oh zog. Oh zog! OH ZOG! "WAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!." 'E screamed, tryin ta get. Ouuta. Deez. Chainz!
"Under normal circumstances, I would protest against such a reckless course of action. But, the Primus himself has ruled on it. I have also been privy to portions of the Adeptus Mechanicus' evidence. Should you choose to stay, you will have access to them."
"Stasis Subject 1, we begin in 2 days."
A flash. The woite gitz was standin uh-round 'im now. When dey do dat? One of dem raised a big pokey bit. 'E stabbed 'im in da arm.
"Administering sedatives." 'E screamed at dem as loud as he coould, but nuffin worked. Dey just kept lookin at 'im. 'E kept screamin. 'E wouldn't stop til dey letim go. 'E Waghed til 'is head did circlzes.
"Note, subject has been screaming for 5 minutes with few pauses for air. Actually, change it to roaring."
But den-Ohhhhhhhhh. Dat didn't feel good…
Zog. Everyfing was goin' wobbly. Dose woite tinnei gitz was splochhy 'E 'eard da drill startin up. OH NOOOOOOOOooooo!!...
"For Humanity."
'E wuss gettin sleepee. No… 'E didn' wanna go…ta...shleep…
""For Humanity.""
[-----------------]
Various Dates
Various Locations
As the Indomitable Spirit settled itself in the Terra System, the Houses and States quickly adapted. The Adeptus Mechanicus' letters and claims were considered. Heads of state, military leaders, and their intelligence agencies desired to know more. They had received a taste of what they and the aliens were capable of. Now they wanted more. They wanted the full battleroms.
Ambassadors made their cases or requests, backed with years of experience in diplomacy. They were only marginally surprised when the requests were quickly granted. Albeit with warnings of the savagery they would bear witness to.
Those in the halls of power bore witness to the war that may come.
No mercy. No remorse. They watched the Adeptus Mechanicus' brutal war. An army over 2 million strong, wielding technology beyond even the Star League. Genuine superhuman soldiers took to the field. Lead by relentless machine-men, who endured punishment no common man can bear. Whose bodies and minds seemed just as alien as their opposition.
Weapons so cruel in purpose it boggled the mind. Titans of metal and violence that burned everything in their path. A warship so large it was more city than vessel.
Together, it formed terrifying war machine that could humble the mightiest of their armies.
And yet, they fell. To their discomfort, it was not enough. Hordes, tens of millions strong. Unending waves of primitive scrap machines and frankenmechs. Armies of savage green beasts that did not balk at death, at war, or at the sheer violence Malcador's armies unleashed. Sheer numbers and brute strength matched cold, unfeeling metal. Earth shattering battle after battle. Total war. Where blood and spores flowed in rivers. Heroes and monsters fell like common chaff. It rang of the Succession Wars. A conflict that brought only ruin and death.
The surviving footage of the only engagement between the entire Adeptus Mechanicus Fleet and the alien fleet was no better. A fleet consisting of hundreds of warships. Including fully functioning 3 super-capital warships, each a peer of the Indomitable Spirit. It might become more. The Adeptus Mechanicus destroyed 2 super-capitals over the course of the battle. What was to say they wouldn't be salvaged? What was stopping them from salvaging the Adeptus Mechanicus Fleet?
Then there was Behemoth. A warship so large it actually rivaled mountains. Armor was estimated to be over 2 kilometers thick at some points.
Few of the mankind's leaders found slept those nights. The Chief-Fabricator's messages, behind the polite greetings and overly detailed wording, painted a terrifying picture. That time was running out. Every day, the enemy gathered in strength. Beyond the thoughts of politics, the opportunities of tomorrow, or what their ancestral enemies might do…
If even the mighty forces of the Adeptus Mechanicus could not win the day, then how would they fare?
[-----------------]
Fighting intensifies between mercenaries hired by the Lyran Commonwealth and Draconic Combine on the world of Carse. Talks of a brief ceasefire end in flames as representative of both parties open fire…
-Local Newspapers on Carse
First Prince Hanse Davion last seen in talks with Precentor Avalon. Earlier today, Precentor Avalon, was seen entering…
-New Avalon Times
In stunning turn of events, Captain-General Janos Marik secures majority support in Parliament. How exactly the Captain-General was able to establish order is unclear, but…
-Free Press News, Atreus Office
Primus announces Summit to be held in March between House Lords, Periphery leaders, and the Adeptus Mechanicus. The First Circuit promises to finalize the details within the next 2 weeks…
-Comstar News Bureau
Rates on Priority HPG's bound for Terra raise 0.61%. Precentor Dieron apologizes for the disturbance, quoting the Primus' statement on heavy HPG traffic…
-Luthien Word
"You must come to Naidvar! The Adeptus Mechanicus are healing people at the hospital! Our son is cured. He is well!"
-Intercepted Communication from Mongolian Citizen to her husband.
[Chapter 6 End]
Terra System
Indomitable Spirit Command Bridge
Terran Afternoon
{+}Communications: Approach instructions given. Forwarding.{+}
{-}Navigation: Received.{-}
{-}Chief-Fabricator: Received. Transmitting new orders.{-}
{-}Archmagos Serallo: Received.{-}
{-}Archmagos Nua'x I-53: Received.{-}
{-}…101 Additional Responses{-}
A comprehensive set of instructions, 15 pages. Only a 2-minute read. Comstar's paranoia was a benefit, their wording was precise, with little room for misinterpretation.
They wanted me to stay much farther from the planet than the Free Worlds League. Over 400,000 kilometers away, and at the South Pole instead of the North. The Indomitable Spirit was asked to jump tomorrow, after they cleared the 'airspace'. I was invited to the Hilton Hotel tomorrow morning. Of course Comstar would have the gall to make me drop everything to come here, and then turn around and ask me to wait.
Interestingly, there was no demand for an escort. Not even a "mercenary" company conveniently on Terra.
{+}Communications: Diplomatic Inquiries Received. Forwarding{+}
{-}Chief-Fabricator: Received{-}
They wanted a primer on Adeptus Mechanicus norms, cultural habits, and history. All in the name of ensuring good diplomatic relations. An unfortunately reasonable request. One that the Free Worlds League branch had refrained from over confirming my claims and accepting the technology.
History was information, and information granted insight. It was how they crippled the Clans. I felt the rare pain of an incoming headache. There was a great deal we needed to adopt. The Men of Iron, a Dark Age, Crusades, a Civil War and the Fall. Again, narratives. Words alone can shape history.
I approved the request.
{+}Chief-Fabricator: Prepare Codex and forward to Comstar diplomatic channels{+}
{+}Communications: Compliance.{+}
The data packet was sent. Over 1,000 pages of details.
I let my mind wander. We already made security protocols for Terra. My schedule was empty for the next 13 minutes and 12 seconds. As long I spent it in useful introspection, the time wouldn't be wasted. Mars appeared on the screen. 'Home'. One which we would negotiate heavily for. An intentional flaw. Peoples had wants and desires, that shaped their societies and vice versa. A false handle was far simpler to manage than an actual.
"And one when, we will reclaim the glories of ages past. One day, we will stride atop the galaxy. And on that day, we shall return to Sacred Mars, bathed in rays of gold…" I whispered our oath.
I was mangling Imperial history for my own ends. My choices had quite literally changed this galaxy. Over 500 lightyears of space south of the Periphery doesn't match star charts or even the light from past stars anymore. Cosmic phenomena that were detectable from hundreds of lightyears were gone, changed, or suddenly replaced. The 'unique' culture and nomadic lifestyle needed an adequate explanation. Our comparably more permanent lostech situation required re-contextualization.
Words. The right words could win a war before the first shot is fired. Sometimes before the thought of it even enters anyone's minds. There was a strong foundation. The core tenants of cooperation have been made: I have established myself, presented a common interest, and made a call to action.
I wondered if my words were strong enough.
[-----------------]
February 5, 3020
Terra
Hilton Hotel
Late Evening
"Hello everyone, this Mary Cruz with Comstar News Bureau, coming to you with breaking news." A woman said from behind the newscasters' desk.
A white robed man quickly ran up on set and sat himself down. "And I'm Kyle Sterner. We're coming back to you with our 24/7 coverage of Indomitable Spirit. For those just joining us, the Indomitable has finally made way for Terra. Experts calculate the ship will arrive in only 2 days."
The screen changed to a live view of the warship. A simple 3D model was depicted approach Terra's equator. Sterner's eyes shifted slightly to the right before widening. A man ran onto the stage and handed them both a sheet of paper. Kyle sterner quickly scanned it before looking up.
"We have just received new information. The Adeptus Mechanicus has received the go ahead from the Primus to jump to Terra-" Mary exclaimed. Pale purple light gathered at the front of the vessel, before a roiling portal tore itself into existence. The view switched again to a side profile, provided by a very well paid dropship.
"Oh Blake." Kyle whispered too quietly for the mic to pick up, hands gripping the paper.
"Oh my goodness!" Mary gasped as they watched the ship streeech-
And disappear. The screen quickly shifted. "Please wait a moment while we try to locate the Indomitable Spirit." Mary said as they turned back to the camera. A minute passed as the pair gathered their bearings.
Again, the screen changed. TERRA SOUTH POLE was emblazoned on the top left of the live feed.
The colossal Indomitable Spirit hung under Terra, its guns turned away. Movement. The starboard side opened to the void of space. It stretched for kilometers. A glowing barrier separated the hanger from the void of space. It was staggeringly large, housing hundreds of vessels and thousands of workers. The camera zoomed in, until it could make out the small figures moving to and fro. Large figures walked among them. Among the hundreds of spacecraft, a trip of dropships and an ASF slowly rose into the air.
[-----------------]
February 6, 3020
Terra
Hilton Island
Morning
The landing pad was mostly empty. Despite their best efforts, most of Terra's news agencies were barred from documenting the delegation arriving. A Comstar News Bureau team took a recording from a respectable distance away, caster speaking into their microphone. On the landing pad itself, two stern-faced adepts stood behind a calm demi-precentor.
The convoy of "Landers" started to descend. The lone ASF, a 'Xiphos', was only allowed to escort the Chief-Fabricator to and from Hilton Island departed. Secret scanners returned little information. In some instances, the readings didn't match what they saw with their own eyes. The few hidden weapons placements remained inactive, unwilling to draw any attention.
"Demi-precentor-" One of them began, before being interrupted. "Its too late to make any comments now. They can see and hear anything we say from this point on." She spoke. And that was that.
ROM's analysis on their capabilities was very concerning. Most of the Adeptus Mechanicus were above the baseline human. It was irritating and would no doubt lead to further issues when speaking with them. She would have to be at her very best for this meeting.
The leading Lander came down with all the grace of the brick it so closely tried to resemble. Hot air blasted at them. She idly considered how the recording will look. They must have looked quite gallant, wind blowing at their robes, sun rising in the distance. ROM and the CNB would dress it quite nicely.
Its doors opened. Two rows of tall, red-robed monsters marched down the ramp. Following them were two power armored Giants, an 'astartes' and what seemed to be regular humans. A small swarm of fat disk like drones hovered around them. And at their head, the man that had taken the Inner Sphere and Periphery by storm.
The Chief-Fabricator had arrived. She paid little attention to the armored figures, that would be attended by more learned members of the Order.
His appearance had changed compared to his private meetings on Atreus. The most obvious change was his robes. They had been modified to cover even more of his torso, leaving only brief glimpses of his metal body. He bore a tall axe in his right hand, its head shaped like a gear. A glowing red pistol rested on his hip. Next to it was his mask. A long strip of…parchment ran down his robe's left shoulder on both sides, almost down to his feet. It was secured with a waxy blue seal in the shape of a gear. Foreign script covered it.
The large rubber block covering the bottom of the thick staff made no noise as it landed in time with his footsteps. For such a large being, he was alarmingly quick. In mere moments he was before her. Unflattering comparisons to ground vehicles came to her mind as he came to a stop.
"Good morning Chief-Fabricator Malcador, welcome to Terra." She diplomatically greeted. "I am Demi-Precentor Lara Hughs." Members of the diplomatic corp almost came to blows on what she was allowed to say. The First Circuit had given them precious little time to fully read the Codex. Ultimately, after much deliberation and compromise, she was given a list of very neutral terms and responses she was authorized to give.
"Greetings Demi-Precentor Hughes." Came the robotic reply, not even trying to pretend to be human. He glanced at the camera crew and back to her. "Is this a live broadcast?"
"No, Chief-Fabricator." She replied politely. There were many potential reasons why the Mechanicus would want to avoid a live viewing. Concerns over further FWL backlash. A desire not to be put in the spotlight. She dared not consider what would happen if they had more violent intentions.
A red-robed attendee walked to his right, and handed the Chief-Fabricator a large, armored suitcase. The hulking cyborg before her was no small man, and the case was sizeable for him. He extended it to her. The right Lander opened with a hiss. A vast machine sat on some kind of hover platform.
"What is this?" She asked, accepting the heavy suitcase. Oh. That was unpleasant. At 54 years old, she was not the spry young woman she once was. This thing must have weighed over 30 kilograms (66.13 pounds). Thankfully, one her assistants quickly took the burden upon himself. She pretended not to notice his muffled grunt of exertion. Diplomacy demanded he hold it rather than let it rest on the tarmac.
"One of the most important technological discoveries in history and now transferred to Comstar." He stated. She allowed her eyes to widen slightly. A bold claim and to her irritation, likely true.
"If you could humor me, do you perhaps know what was invented in the year 1928?" Malcador asked. That was during pre-spaceflight Terra. Pre-fusion… Sometime during the world wars. At the thought of those conflicts, she suppressed a grimace. What kind of horror were they now holding?
"I am afraid nothing comes to mind Chief-Fabricator." She answered, indulging in the spectacle. The First Circuit could turn this into a scandal, to further pin them in place.
"Understandable Demi-Precentor. My apologies for asking such a specific question. The invention was penicillin." She tried to consider the implications. Of course a society as advanced as the Adeptus Mechanicus would possess equally advanced medicine. But to mention Penicillin, if what she remembered was correct, one of the biggest discoveries in pre-space flight human history…
She did not respond, waiting for him to elaborate. Representative Miles hypothesized that unless the subject appeared deep in thought, the Chief-Fabricator was prone to over explanation. An unnoticed cultural aspect and potential avenue for obtaining information.
"You now hold the paper and digital blueprints for the Panacea. The ultimate medicine. With the exception of extreme neurological damage, psychological issues, or literal magic, human disease, is over." He pointed to the machine sitting in the lander. She mentally reeled at the statement. States Leaders did not make such stringent guarantees. Who would-? This was beyond what she, anyone, had expected.
Such a claim would need a very concise response.
"I beg your pardon?" Was what she actually said. No! To her relief, her aids were failing to suppress their surprise. The Primus could be convinced it was far too surprising for any reasonable person to hold their composure.
"That is a moderate sized production unit, capable of producing approximately 2,000 samples a day at max capacity. I have brought one for your immediate use." A part of her was happy for such a ridiculous claim. One the Blessed Order would fervently use to undermine them for making such promises.
"And I am willing to demonstrate and prove its use upon your request." Her awe at the potential prize in their names was somewhat snuffed. There it was again. That reckless desire to shove proof in their faces. Did they think them idiots? Did they not understand the disruptions it caused? She had thought Precentor Atreus had warned him of the economic damages their announcement had and will cause.
She ignored the small whisper of fear that this was real. That they asked for nothing. And what that would mean.
Years of training and the instinctive threat of displeasing the more extreme elements of the Order pushed her forward. "The Order thanks you for your gift, Chief-Fabricator." Came the rehearsed line. What else was she to do? Tell him to take the alleged "panacea" away? Reject it? The snakes would eat her alive. Regardless if it was true or false.
[-----------------]
February 6, 3020
Hilton Hotel
Diplomatic Chamber 1
Morning
As expected, Comstar rolled out the not so metaphorical red carpet. They were the official diplomats of Battletech, and that carried expectations. The room was tastefully decorated. Everything inside was clearly high quality, from the authentic natural wood table to the reinforced comstar white colored seating. However, unlike an Imperial noble, they clearly understood the difference between tasteful and decadent design. The dissonance between the facade and their actual activities was far more apparent now that I was experiencing it.
"Greetings Chief-Fabricator." The Primus began as we shook hands. I couldn't place the slight accent. Italian was too strong a description, but it was close. Something in that area of Europe? He showed no signs of disgust at my cybernetics. There was little reaction to the noticeable height difference between us. The primus was no short man, but I easily had almost half a meter on him.
"And to you as well, Primus." I replied, mask at my hip. My weapons and guards had been left at the door, a 'cultural' sign of our willingness to talk and respect.
Thankfully, neither of us held it longer than a few seconds.
Our assistants and staff waited for us to take our seats before taking theirs. The chairs seemed sturdy enough. Mine let out a soft hiss, but nothing more. A magos returned a scan. The structure of each seat was heavily reinforced. These covers were more reinforced tarp than actual cloth.
[Comstar diplomacy, hard at work.]
To my hidden amusement, both our parties began taking out papers and various devices. They had brought an alarming amount of paper with them. Almost as much as we did. My scanner counted some 900 pages of documents.
Nine hundred wasn't even close to the entirety of what I had sent over. I was tall enough to read the top pages of their documents without being noticed. One of the Primus' aides had even brought an abridged copy of the fleet records. That was easily 100 pages of paper in small font. And in…Times New Roman. The Free Worlds League used something called Baskerville.
The Primus himself brought a simple noteputer and a thin packet of unmarked papers. Only 10 pages. Likely his aides had read through all the documents, and he was given broad summaries.
We were going to be here for the rest of the week, minimum. A month if he decided to be difficult. Was that their next move, stall me with long meetings and bureaucracy?
"To begin, I would like to extend my condolences to your people. I have watched a number of your battleroms." A flicker of emotion entered his voice. Sympathy, but not enough to suggest pity. "No people should suffer such grievous harm."
{+}Emotion Scanner: Moderate Sympathy. Disturbed. Nervousness. Stress. 32% Accuracy.{+} A low rating. And no sign of fear. Various muscular scans suggested a degree of truth, but that was not the entire story. He was masking it disturbingly well. The only undeniable facet was his heart rate. It was stable, but appeared above high. I tried to recall what I could of Julian Tiepolo. My memories pre-augmentation were unorganized and not easily as recallable. Didn't he have heart problems in the future?
"Thank you, Primus Tiepolo." I responded. The Panacea would solve that. My staff haven't found Mad Myndo in any public records so far, but I knew she was out there. For now, Julian Tiepolo appeared far more stable than his canon successor.
"What topic would you wish to discuss first?" I offered. Comstar already knew my stance.
"A considerable amount of materials have been forwarded to Comstar, and for that we thank you. However, we are concerned with the degree of aggression you have described." The hologram emitter at the center of the table activated. I recognized the files. Our most damning analysis of ork aggression. The center file was the final conclusion.
[This report concludes that peace between mankind and the alien race is impossible. Co-existence is not achievable. Their intrinsic nature is anathema to mankind's. All attempts at negotiation, diplomacy, and communication have failed. Their existence is a threat to human life.]
"I am concerned of the contents of the 3rd series of documents you have forwarded to us." He calmly said. One of the aides handed the report to him.
"These reports imply," He paused to take a breath. "That their continued existence will result in our extinction." There was the word the reports danced around, but never stated. Extinction. The end of our species. I let my eye clicked as I scanned the table. No shock.
"That is correct. There will be only one conclusion to this conflict." Us or them. There would be room for mercy. No outcome of peace. Total war on a scale unseen in history.
I was very surprised he would discuss it, even though it was plain in writing. If he agreed to our reports, then that would mean Comstar has damned humanity. Holy Shroud could be a contribution to our extinction. This was beyond mere politics. Their very way of life, their religion could not withstand a failure of that scale.
That elicited a reaction. Quickly aborted signs of anger and disagreement, too subtle for the naked eye to perceive. Nothing obvious enough for me to call on. And likely nothing enough for other members of the Order to comment on. [But when were people actually reasonable? I wonder…is the Primus only managing this discussion? Or the aftermath as well, when the First Circuit gathers.] From my understanding, the power of the Primus was never truly cemented, politics influenced their actual ability to work.
Primus Tiepolo remained unmoved. It was different from Janos, who seemed more inclined to bring out the metaphorical steel when under pressure. He appeared calm, stable.
"Your assessment is alarming, Chief-Fabricator. However, while your message is more than clear, it is critical Comstar make its own investigation." Fair enough.
"Thus, we cannot agree with your message at this time, not until we have thoroughly assessed the details you have forwarded us. Extinction is a powerful word to use, and must be given the scrutiny it deserves." He put down the report. Pointedly, it remained on the top of his papers.
"I too, care for humanity's future." He added, before slightly adjusting his robes, despite them not needing it. Nervous tick, a habit, or an act? "Comstar is committed to the safety and prosperity of mankind. I propose a joint investigation between Comstar and the Adeptus Mechanicus."
"We accept."
[-----------------]
February 6, 3020
Terra Surface
Hilton Hotel
Later Afternoon
Primus Julien Tiepolo refused to let his growing frustration get the better of him. [Blake give me strength.] This meeting was going to give him a migraine.
The Adeptus Mechanicus seemed to enjoy data for the pure sake of it. No facet was left unexplained. No context unexplored. Minutia left only to subject matter experts covered in painful detail as their groups dove into the data they had assembled.
And he had to force himself to listen to every piece of it. It was almost like a college class from Hell. If he fell behind, he would never be able to catch up.
His grasp of Chief-Fabricator was tenuous. He only partially understood its desires. The towering cyborg showed no emotion, no feeling, as it detailed what Malcador claimed to be their imminent doom. At the same times, its eyes remained almost exclusively focused on him, only moving when someone else was speaking.
His staff tried to subtly prod at their evidence and conclusions, both to prevent any missteps from directly reflecting on his position and to lend their incredible talents to curtail the Adeptus Mechanicus' arguments.
Instead, with no hesitation, they had counterpoints already prepared.
Every member of the Chief-Fabricator's party was heavily augmented aside from 3 people. Either they had a literal photographic memory or recorded every moment of their lives. He was also certain they were communicating with each other. Which meant the group as a whole was likely answering their questions instead of each individual.
"There's a document referenced here, it is unnamed, but hypothesizes we are not the first species to face them." Adept Logan of ROM asked.
An 'Archmagos' to the far left of the table leaned forward. Its name card identified it as Archmagos Logis. "<Small Electronic Beep>. Affirmative. This hypothesis is supported by secondhand data and direct samples retrieved from rescues from Cradle, Forerunner, and Vigilant Spark." Logis extended a mechadendrite into the ceiling holoprojector.
He noted the ease at which the machine man manipulated their equipment.
Soon enough it began displaying footage from inside Behemoth itself. The hologram changed to a 3D scan of a vessel.
"Forces stranded aboard Behemoth continued to transmit data while operating within its interior. Deep Scouting parties quickly discovered Behemoth is not a singular vessel. It is composed of hundreds of vessels and materials, crudely bound together.
Of these vessels, we noted the existence of potentially 8 separate species of entities, of which 1 was recognized." A symbol appeared next to the scan. The Tan'ova. The supposed alien creators of a derelict vessel the Adeptus Mechanicus discovered centuries ago. A discovery that had propelled them thousands of years ahead of the Star League.
Other vessels appeared next the Tan'ova vessel. Strange, foreign things.
"The Fourth and Tenth Maniples were able to successfully salvage numerous corpses, technological samples, and various artifacts before their destruction." Red dots denoting what appeared to be the Fourth and Tenth's progress through Behemoth. The red lights began to grow duller and duller before abruptly disappearing. A somber red 'Connection Lost' appeared over both of their locations.
"As they delved deeper into Behemoth's interior, salvage parties were ordered to return bearing whatever they had discovered. Enough samples were recovered to confirm these 8 alien species were separate entities." Archmagos Logis continued.
The holoboard was quickly growing crowded, now including autopsy reports. No doubt their corpses were ready for presentation if they dared question their legitimacy.
Logan did not let up. "Why was it not included in the files? What is lacking in the analysis?" He understood the what the aging man why trying to imply. If it was material, the Adeptus Mechanicus would have included it.
The Chief-Fabricator spoke instead. "The decision was mine." He said, shielding his subordinate. "This information is still suspect at this time, and confirmation is statistically unlikely. Additionally, implications of this hypothesis are…unpleasant."
The various diagrams disappeared, replaced with a map of the Inner Sphere and Periphery. Their small slice of the galaxy shrunk as it zoomed out. A simple circle sitting in the vast cosmos of the galaxy. A fog like blanket covered the space south of the Periphery.
"These alien races are likely located far from each other, by extension, human space. Thus, the invaders are present across the galaxy if they have fought them."
In the far distance, tens of thousands of light years began to glow red.
"By its very nature, the Devourer does not leave if there is additional conflict to partake in. They will not stop unless they are killed to the last or forced to retreat. Then, they will return."
The red line slowly engulfed the space, creeping up the hologram, towards mankind.
"If a fleet of this size is currently exploring uninhabited portions of space, it can be assumed that they have successfully conquered, and eliminated these species.
Should this hypothesis prove correct, the Tan'ova, who we previously believed to hail from the Galactic South, are dead or dying to the invaders."
He had to hide his clenched hands in his robes, and under the desk. Why did every attempt to alleviate the situation reveal some fresh new horror?
"Taken to its logical conclusion, mankind is the latest in a galactic scale conquest or genocide."
The red finally stopped, just outside the Adeptus Mechanicus' territory. It grew long, arcing until it ran along over half of human space. It ran so long it disappeared back into the fog,
The Chief-Fabricator did not continue.
[-----------------]
February 6, 3020
Terra Orbit, South Pole
Indomitable Spirit
Early Evening
The meeting was…acceptable. By tomorrow, Comstar's ambassador and investigative team would come onboard to begin our investigation. They were sending a group of 50, composed of biologists, amateur xenologists, and no doubt hidden ROM agents.
I expected Comstar to not just dig in its heels. No, I expected the Primus to stick his head in the sand, waste my time, and then prepare a ROM made welcoming gift. A part of me was worried the neutral stance was going to fade soon, and I would get to see how impudent and obstructive Comstar could be.
{+}Neural-Regulator: Stress levels have maintained stable at rest-level activity for 3 hours. Deactivating.{+} I ignored the final hiss at the back of my head as the minor dose of chemicals stopped pumping into my head.
I had ways to force the matter if they really dismissed me. The Indomitable Spirit was the one place they couldn't truly influence galactic events. It was a nation unto itself. Sovereign territory. Treaties would be signed onboard. Galaxy changing agreements would be made here. Where it goes, history changes.
If they wouldn't cooperate, I would go elsewhere. Tempers faded with time. Parliament would be welcoming me back with open arms in a few weeks. Even now, Janos found himself no need to truly use his newfound powers. Unexpectedly, his supporters and many neutral groups in Parliament had formed a near unanimous power bloc. Almost unheard of in the Free Worlds League. No doubt there was all sorts of backroom dealing, but their government knew losing the Adeptus Mechanicus would cost them far too much for them to tolerate.
The Captain-General seemed to be handling things well on Atreus. Whatever Parliament and Comstar were planning seems to have simmered down.
I lightly tapped a finger on the freshly refurbished armrests on the throne. There were ambassadors onboard now. I had an image to maintain.
{+}Indomitable Communications: High priority message received from HPG. Subject: Missive from First Prince Hanse Davion. Transmitting.{+}
{-}Chief-Fabricator: Received.{-}
That was the thirteenth one today. I nearly had a heart attack when I received a handwritten message from the Coordinator this morning. Diplomatic messages have started to fly in. Just as I planned, everyone wanted to get their foot in the door. Somewhat worryingly, I didn't recognize a fifth of the polities sending me messages. I never heard of the Aurigan Coalition, Barony of Strang, Belters, or the Niops Association. The rest were…barely legitimate bandit kingdoms, that might be recognized by some the Successor Houses.
That letter from the Marian Hegemony was going to be a pain in the ass. I knew they had germanium, enough to ignite jumpship production for potentially centuries. As unreliable as battletech FTL was, it was far more stable than warp drives. Besides, making a shipyard for warp capable ships was going to take years. Humanity would need to coast on Clan and Comstar infrastructure for now.
Which was unfortunate as the Marians conducted a set of raids on fringe worlds in the Free Worlds League AND Magistry of Canopus only 2 weeks before Christmas day, last year. An estimated 225 civilians and 48 militia members are now held abroad in literal slavery, joining hundreds more held on their worlds.
I opened the file. Typed, and not slightly crooked like the Coordinator's scanned letter. I was going to assume that was some sort of Comstar meddling, and not have some poor retainer stripped of everything they know and love.
Dear Chief-Fabricator Malcador,
I write to you today on behalf of the Federated Suns, and as one who values co-operation, security, and the safety of one's people.
Your nation has my deepest sympathies and condolences for the tragedy that has befallen your people. I am both deeply saddened and greatly concerned by the reports I have received. I thank you for extending this vital information so freely.
The Federated Suns hears the urgency of your words, and heeds the danger you warn us of. The data you have sent us is comprehensive and through, and I believe further discussions between our people would be invaluable. It is my hope we will begin a formal, direct dialogue to discuss these matters further.
Please know that Federated Suns is prepared to offer our aid, at no cost, in the form of medical supplies, food, and any other such materials needed for the continued health of your people.
We await your response.
First Prince Hanse Davion, Commander of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, Duke of New Avalon,…
That was a lot of titles. And of course, the ever-present First Lord. Interesting that the listed his position as CiC first.
More importantly, this letter was out of date. Comstar confirmed the summit yesterday. I didn't hold anything against the First Prince. The letter would have taken over a day to make it to Atreus, and now it would need to be rerouted back to Terra. This must have been written as soon as they got word.
Compared to what I've read on astropathic choirs, these were insane response times. Goodness knows what the Emperor would have paid for access to reliable FTL communications.
I'd need to make a response soon. I opened my document program. [Thank goodness my laptop had been taken on the journey with me.] I had Microsoft word ripped out of it after trying my hand at the Mechanicus' programs.
First Prince Hanse Davion…
[-----------------]
February 14, 3020
Terran Orbit
En-route to Comstar ran Charity Hospital
Morning
I was thankful for the relatively quiet days. Comstar had started their observations on the samples I held onboard. A trio of live Orks were delivered to a warehouse on Luna. They were probably on their way to some ROM blacksite for God knows what.
The Houses and various Periphry States were preparing their ambassadors. I had a meeting with the 'Belters' later in 4 days, with a dropship making way for Terra.
But as expected, Comstar had other plans in mind. They issued a Challenge. The ambassador phrased it politely, more by insinuation than overt accusation, and took advantage of my willingness to prove my claims if asked, but it was nonethless a challenge. They doubted Panacea. They doubted the claim that disease, was over. By extension, they doubted my word. Not one of my claims could be debunked if I wanted the political influence to adequately prepare. And that would not do.
So, we accepted it. With only partially faked offense, I offered for Comstar to pick a hospital. Aside from the psychological or extreme neurologically damaged patients, we'd empty it in 2 weeks. I would personally attend and operate. Ambassador Cole apologized for any unintended offense, and sent my request.
Within the hour, the Primus had a location for us. A small hospital out in modern-day Mongolia, with 200 or so patients. The hospital agreed to our arrival. I would manage the effort for the first two days, before handing things to Archmagos Aurumux.
Since I was arriving personally, I could justify bring a larger security detail. A pair of operations team were in place alongside the actual security in case anything…untoward happened.
The charity hospital, mostly funded by Comstar, was located in a town far from any major city. The gawking citizens and intrusive press tried their best to get a look, but remained respectfully away. I mostly ignored them. I had little faith in my current Mongolian translator, and Comstar would deal with any news outbreak anyway.
"Greetings Director Arban." I said in english with a short handshake to the presumably Mongolian man. The nervous director looked to his staff for support in a moment of weakness before turning back to me. Arban couldn't choose which of my eyes to focus on. I didn't mention it. I knew I cut an imposing figure.
"Greetings to you as well Chief-Fabricator." He replied in mostly unaccented English. Apparently almost 63% of Terrans knew English thanks to the Star League. It allegedly was higher in the days of the Star League, approaching 80%. As fascinating as alternate earth was proving to be, dissecting that fact would come another time.
We made our way deeper into the hospital.
"My thanks for your accommodation Director. Rest assured, your patients will receive the highest possible care in the Galaxy." I said, trying to put some warmth into my voice.
At that, the Director was unable to conceal his doubt, but he simply look forward. "Is it true?" He almost whispered. The man looked small amongst my guards and staff.
"I do not know what exactly you were told, but I swear, by the end of this month, most of these people will healthy and disease free." The director managed to suppress a flash of concern. I believed knew that look. An answer you knew was right, but did not like in the slightest.
I idly wondered if this man was a Comstar plant or not. I saw no signs of Blakist iconography on his person. Then again, I saw no apparent signs of faith on his staff either. Logically, only a hospital they had a serious grasp on would be selected. It was out of the way, minimizing impact and chance of word leaking out. He likely was, or at least in their pocket.
"I was told that the Adeptus Mechanicus wanted to demonstrate an extreme medical advancement they had made." He remarked, eyes distant as he considered the possibilities. "One so powerful it would change history."
"That is correct. We only need access to the patients' files, and some time to interview them and their assigned doctors." I answered. I did not want to sideline this man so badly, but I needed to demonstrate it was entirely the us and the Panacea at work.
"With your permission, we could take begin treatment by tonight." I asked. Despite the politics at play, I would give him that one measure of respect. My people were my patients, and I the one responsible for their continued health and wellbeing. I wouldn't transfer them to another for care unless absolutely sure they were up to the task. This hospital was a charity and I was reasonably sure the director on some level prescribed to that idea.
However, the director knew he had no choice. His superiors were watching, eagerly waiting. If anything went wrong, Comstar would jump on the opportunity. They would be fools not to give me the chance to mess up. There was me, a foreign Head of State was pressuring him. An enemy I doubted he wanted to make. And finally, the public, his patients, and the outrage he would face if rejected this opportunity.
After a moment to consider his options, he granted my request.
{+}System-Order: Activate Rite of Parallel Thought.{+} My augments thrummed as my thoughts split. One for my immediate work, the other for managing the entire operation. It was time to begin our work. I brought 30 magos biologis, and 20 archmagos with considerable expertise in the subject. We descended on the patient records, consuming the data in only two hours. Our staff began to interview the patients and their doctors.
Servo-drones and techpriest aides began to roam the halls, scanning for more data.
Luckily, I was able to somewhat include the hospital staff beyond translators as very secondary aides. A handful of the doctors showed promise, quickly trying to pick up everything they could with the limited time they had.
Out of the 209 patients in the building, we could help 198. It was unfortunate, but the Panacea was very much hit or miss when it came to serious brain conditions. Sometimes a disease was only due to a misaligned neurons, and sometimes the brain was a complete mess. The Panacea would sooner their minds
Of the 198 in the building, 32 were in serious condition. They would be dealt with first. Aurumux was assigned to deal with the 23 adult and elderly patients. I would handle the far more delicate task of the children.
[-----------------]
February 15, 3020
Modern Day Mongolia
Naidvar (Hope) Hospital
Morning
Jack Sunderland of ROM suppressed his awe as dawn broke over Naidvar Hospital. It'd only been 18 hours since the Chief-Fabricator all but took over the hospital. His previous experience working in the Magistry of Canopus saw him being yanked from his quiet position in South America for a redeployment to Mongolia of all places.
There'd only been enough time to sleep off the jet lag before Malcador arrived.
His men(?) swept through the hospital. Drones roamed the halls, looking for signs of disease. A power-armored pair of 3 meter tall giants guarded the hospital's front doors. Strange mechanical figures stalked from the operating halls to patients' rooms. Bins of spare organs and transplant materials were emptied to provide for the patients' health.
And over the course of the night, everything changed.
The 'magos' assured patients of a 100% success rate, and that their health would be assured in 2 weeks. To his relief, they didn't tell the patients or their guardians they'd be receiving a cure-all. Only that they would be receiving top Adeptus Mechanicus care for undisclosed diplomatic matters. Around 110 or so patients accepted the change in provider. He knew by the end of the first week most them would change their minds.
18 Hours. They were already done with 81 of them. Only 48 of them needed surgery. After 3 hours of review and testing, each and every one of them was sent to the operating room. The Chief-Fabricator handled 3 surgeries essentially alone, back to back, with no breaks. He was in the middle of his 4th major surgery right now. He wouldn't stop until noon tomorrow.
The first set of patients had awakened from their operations and already showed signs of drastically improving health. Everyone that only received an injection of Panacea was showing the same thing. There were only 2 people left in hospice.
He almost hysterically went down the list.
Diabetes, multiple types? An injection, straight into the pancreas. A short 30 minute surgery. The patient were told to keep on their medicine for a few days, but they should be cured by the end of the month.
Sexually transmitted diseases? Immuno deficiency disorders? Another injection, this time across multiple arteries. He had received the blood work 10 hours after the injection. Drastically improved.
Cancer? A single 8 ounces of Panacea injected over 10 hours, and they were showing drastically improves health. Their tumors began to shrink, disappearing from the x-ray or any other type of scan.
Radiation poisoning? Cured.
Arthritis? Cured.
Missing limbs? Cloned limbs were just grafted on. A man stood again for the first time in years. Cured.
Kidney failure? Cured.
Heart diseases? Cured.
Huntington's? Cured.
Asthma? Cured.
A disability? He saw a formerly blind girl playing I spy with her brother on the 3rd floor.
The early onset of dementia? Cured.
A Blake damned allergy to peanuts? Cured.
Cured. Cured. Cured. Cured.
For the first time in its recorded history, this hospital was going to be mostly empty.
He felt numb. This would change everything. The course of human history. If penicillin was a light in the dark, Panacea was a star, banishing the darkness of disease for all time. Mankind would mark down the day when Panacea was created as a historical moment. Hisory would be divided in two eras. Before and after.
He…he didn't know what to do. Blake, he didn't know what to say. In the shadows of the hospital, he watched patients' joy as their conditions really did improve over only a day.
Aurumux P-79 had already gathered the footage, the patient data, and the doctors' testimonies for a live transmission to the Hilton Hotel. All but rubbing it in Primus' face that the Panacea truly did deserve its namesake.
Whatever Representative Cole's aide had said, it had kicked a hornet's nest. He didn't envy them.
The Adeptus Mechanicus were going to stay for 2 weeks to ensure they kept that impossible 100% success rate. Malcador was personally here to see it done. He mentally went over the plan the main office composed (this region didn't even have a local ROM office, let alone a team…). It was so distasteful, but political leverage was worth more than lives. He could only hope the car crash and other near-lethal accidents planned for tomorrow would slow them down.
[-----------------]
Time: Zog time, no Wah time.
Location: Loudy Box
"Subject 1 is awake".
Ah, dat's bright! Where da zog was 'e? Whoz dat? Everyfing smelt weird.
Some tiny git in woite was standin ova 'im. Why 'e outta-
Clack. Dey gots 'im chained up! 'E screamed at dat gitz. Dey got 'im ona table. Dey was makin weirdo click noises. Moar flashes ova 'is head. Soam git was mucking about in fronta 'im wiff a brown sheet. Clack. C'mere, YOU DOUBLE GIT!
"Subject 1 is approximately 210 kilograms (462.9 pounds) and 2.57 meters (8.43 feet) tall. Adamantium restraints supplied by Adeptus Mechanicus are functioning as intended. Subject 1 is hostile."
Moar zoggin click noyses. 'E roared at dese buncha grot sniffas. If 'e had his choppa, oi, dey looted 'is choppa! And 'is bitz!
"Subject 1 was born on board the Indomitable Spirit from late stage gestation spores confiscated from alien world 'Tempera'. Subject was kept mostly separate from prisoners, and is thus-not known to alien authorities."
One of dem got out a sharp choppa. An' a buncha wierdo stuff. Deys got a drill, lotsa hammuhs, an' stuff. 'E turned 'is 'ead uh'round.
Dey gotz-a buncha stabby bitz, Wit da glass toobes…. Wait a zog.
AH ZOG. DESE IS TINNIE PAIN BOYZ. 'E GOTZ TA GET OUUTA 'ERE! Clack! Clink!
"We begin experiments as soon as possible. I understand some of you may not be comfortable with testing on a live subject. Especially one of alien nature. Should you wish to be relocated, it will be granted."
Oh zog. Oh zog! OH ZOG! "WAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!." 'E screamed, tryin ta get. Ouuta. Deez. Chainz!
"Under normal circumstances, I would protest against such a reckless course of action. But, the Primus himself has ruled on it. I have also been privy to portions of the Adeptus Mechanicus' evidence. Should you choose to stay, you will have access to them."
"Stasis Subject 1, we begin in 2 days."
A flash. The woite gitz was standin uh-round 'im now. When dey do dat? One of dem raised a big pokey bit. 'E stabbed 'im in da arm.
"Administering sedatives." 'E screamed at dem as loud as he coould, but nuffin worked. Dey just kept lookin at 'im. 'E kept screamin. 'E wouldn't stop til dey letim go. 'E Waghed til 'is head did circlzes.
"Note, subject has been screaming for 5 minutes with few pauses for air. Actually, change it to roaring."
But den-Ohhhhhhhhh. Dat didn't feel good…
Zog. Everyfing was goin' wobbly. Dose woite tinnei gitz was splochhy 'E 'eard da drill startin up. OH NOOOOOOOOooooo!!...
"For Humanity."
'E wuss gettin sleepee. No… 'E didn' wanna go…ta...shleep…
""For Humanity.""
[-----------------]
Various Dates
Various Locations
As the Indomitable Spirit settled itself in the Terra System, the Houses and States quickly adapted. The Adeptus Mechanicus' letters and claims were considered. Heads of state, military leaders, and their intelligence agencies desired to know more. They had received a taste of what they and the aliens were capable of. Now they wanted more. They wanted the full battleroms.
Ambassadors made their cases or requests, backed with years of experience in diplomacy. They were only marginally surprised when the requests were quickly granted. Albeit with warnings of the savagery they would bear witness to.
Those in the halls of power bore witness to the war that may come.
No mercy. No remorse. They watched the Adeptus Mechanicus' brutal war. An army over 2 million strong, wielding technology beyond even the Star League. Genuine superhuman soldiers took to the field. Lead by relentless machine-men, who endured punishment no common man can bear. Whose bodies and minds seemed just as alien as their opposition.
Weapons so cruel in purpose it boggled the mind. Titans of metal and violence that burned everything in their path. A warship so large it was more city than vessel.
Together, it formed terrifying war machine that could humble the mightiest of their armies.
And yet, they fell. To their discomfort, it was not enough. Hordes, tens of millions strong. Unending waves of primitive scrap machines and frankenmechs. Armies of savage green beasts that did not balk at death, at war, or at the sheer violence Malcador's armies unleashed. Sheer numbers and brute strength matched cold, unfeeling metal. Earth shattering battle after battle. Total war. Where blood and spores flowed in rivers. Heroes and monsters fell like common chaff. It rang of the Succession Wars. A conflict that brought only ruin and death.
The surviving footage of the only engagement between the entire Adeptus Mechanicus Fleet and the alien fleet was no better. A fleet consisting of hundreds of warships. Including fully functioning 3 super-capital warships, each a peer of the Indomitable Spirit. It might become more. The Adeptus Mechanicus destroyed 2 super-capitals over the course of the battle. What was to say they wouldn't be salvaged? What was stopping them from salvaging the Adeptus Mechanicus Fleet?
Then there was Behemoth. A warship so large it actually rivaled mountains. Armor was estimated to be over 2 kilometers thick at some points.
Few of the mankind's leaders found slept those nights. The Chief-Fabricator's messages, behind the polite greetings and overly detailed wording, painted a terrifying picture. That time was running out. Every day, the enemy gathered in strength. Beyond the thoughts of politics, the opportunities of tomorrow, or what their ancestral enemies might do…
If even the mighty forces of the Adeptus Mechanicus could not win the day, then how would they fare?
[-----------------]
Fighting intensifies between mercenaries hired by the Lyran Commonwealth and Draconic Combine on the world of Carse. Talks of a brief ceasefire end in flames as representative of both parties open fire…
-Local Newspapers on Carse
First Prince Hanse Davion last seen in talks with Precentor Avalon. Earlier today, Precentor Avalon, was seen entering…
-New Avalon Times
In stunning turn of events, Captain-General Janos Marik secures majority support in Parliament. How exactly the Captain-General was able to establish order is unclear, but…
-Free Press News, Atreus Office
Primus announces Summit to be held in March between House Lords, Periphery leaders, and the Adeptus Mechanicus. The First Circuit promises to finalize the details within the next 2 weeks…
-Comstar News Bureau
Rates on Priority HPG's bound for Terra raise 0.61%. Precentor Dieron apologizes for the disturbance, quoting the Primus' statement on heavy HPG traffic…
-Luthien Word
"You must come to Naidvar! The Adeptus Mechanicus are healing people at the hospital! Our son is cured. He is well!"
-Intercepted Communication from Mongolian Citizen to her husband.
[Chapter 6 End]
Sidestory: Ambassador Thomas Cole (During Chapter 6)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 6, 3020
Terra Orbit, South Pole
Indomitable Spirit
Late Evening
Ambassador Thomas Cole had been warned by his predecessor, Stephen Miles, of the scale. How the primary loading bay they would take him to was the largest.
It did not help. He watched though a reinforced window. This hanger was over 5 kilometers long, 700 meters tall, and 500 meters deep. Five thousand meters of open space, separated from the void by a large permeable energy field that somehow maintained atmospheric pressure.
The notes from both the order's agents and even the Adeptus Mechanicus' military reports noted how this was a strategic weakness. Should all four sets of shields fail, everyone in the hanger would be blown into the void.
[They could hold warships in here. No, a fleet.]
Dozens of dropship sized landers and thousands of military vehicles crowded the space. It was easy for his entire dropship to land. There wasn't any need for complex maneuvers where they had to clear hanger space for the backblast from the fusion torches. No need to carefully hover inside. All they had to do was turn off the grav-plates in a straight line and slowly tick it back on. A smallcraft simply pushed the dropship in the right direction.
His suitcase lightly clattered on his lap as gravity returned to the standard 9.81. This was power. Few words would match the display. The ship itself was too large to believe. A scale too much for the mind to wrap around. For Blake's sake, there was a small city located on the rear of the ship. Two square kilometers of metal towers in some parody of a civilization.
With a brief exhale, he stood up and left his private cabin. He counted the time until he was at the airlock. [40 odd seconds to reach the exit door.] It felt much longer. His footsteps echoed as he made his way.
The biologists and agents, previously consumed by reports and diagrams were also silent as they took in the ship's scale. The doors opened with a hiss. He let the others make their way down the ramp first.
It was quiet. That was the first thing he noted. It was too quiet. Where was the sound, the people? If it was a calculated maneuver to remind them of the war, it was as subtle as the ship. And just as eye catching.
Hovercraft made their way across the floor, bearing materials. Idle battlemechs sat in the far distance. Empty ASF were strewn throughout the hanger. There were only scattered groups of workers or personnel dotting the hanger. A hanger this size should be teeming with life, with activity even if the ships were at rest. He knew crowds, and could gauge density rather well.
Mere hundreds were in the space. He knew the casualties from Operation Alexandria were high. The battleroms showed the brutality of both the Adeptus Mechanicus and the aliens. Battles with tens of thousands at war. Often escalating to hundreds of thousands. Sometimes millions. This ship could easily carry them.
And this was the aftermath. For a moment he considered a similar fate. Of a city-no, Worlds, safe, but empty. Its people gone. Sacrificed on the terrible altar of war or soon to be. He dared not consider the darker outcome. He pushed down the memories of Cradle or Forerunner before it could unsettle him.
This was it. The cold calm of duty came over him. Resolve, clear and true. This was when he truly internalized the stakes.
The Chief-Fabricator welcomed him and his staff personally. Everyone was gifted a servo-drone. A large, metal drone that hovered above the ground. Pamphlets were handed out, covered in voice commands. The ship was simply too big for maps to help with navigating inside. Combined with security concerns, it was simpler to have drones accompany them and display maps when asked.
They were given free reign to roam the ship. No curfew and few restrictions aside from ship critical areas.
There was a piece of parchment on his, almost a foot long.
Testing and observing the aliens would come tomorrow morning, after everyone was settled and their equipment. There was a charging port for the drone, one inside and one outside of the room. How kind of them to indicate they were under surveillance. With his things away and his schedule clear until tomorrow, he went on a walk.
He was assigned a guide. A woman by the name of Erene Lamda-1000. She had 2 mechanical tentacles protruding out of her robes. If it weren't for the literal breast plate, he might not have realized it was a woman. The mechanical voice was barely feminine.
There were trains on the ship. Trains. Four of them ran along the ship, two for each direction. The top train was for more local stops, and the bottom was express. He rode the local to the other side of the ship. It took fifteen minutes. How odd, that in a few days, this would be simply another part of his day. Of no concern as he practiced the art of diplomacy.
He decided to ride in one of the general cars. There were private train cars, but he declined. Again, to few people for a ship this size. More cybernetic monsters in red robes and calm, subdued people. A few came up to him and asked questions in their two languages, standard 1 and 2. He asked some in return. His guide translated for him.
They asked of his order, and if they would forge an alliance. He gave the plants neutral answers. A pair of children. Two girls, ran aboard the train, bearing toolboxes. Followed by a large servo-drone. They couldn't have been older than 13. Their work clothes were covered in oil and grime. One of them dropped a wrench. While he was no mechanic, he could tell the wrench was somehow beyond the millennia old tool he would find on Terra.
They stayed away from him, and sat at the other end of the train. In minutes, the pair quickly fell asleep. The very picture of exhaustion. Peacefully slumbering.
The guide said nothing and neither did he. Whatever guided conversation was there would be handled another time.
He saw much. Regular men and women hard at work keeping their home alive. Silent and enduring. More cybermen, working on tasks he had no inkling of. Hulking Giants and power armored soldiers manning security stations. He decided not to ask them questions. Even to his untrained eye, their labor was difficult. And to his discomfort, not an act.
He encountered a shrine, devoted to unknown members of the Adeptus Mechanicus. The first of many he would find.
A painting, depicting a collection of soldiers, 'techpriests', and a 'archmagos'. They stood tall, weapons bared before a dark hallway. Squinting his eyes, he could make out subtle differences in the dark paint, forming hulking shapes. 'For those we cherish.' It read. Candles burned at the base of the painting.
His aid took notes. Encoded and obscured behind phrases. And after 3 hours, he returned. It was 9pm, and he would spend the rest of the night planning.
There were unlit candles on the nightstand, with accompanying matches. A strange contrast to the simple electric lamp above them.
He personally translated the parchment message. Messages of support and friendship. Of alliance against the threat. There was a hint of literal xenophobia. He charged the servo-drone inside his room. If they wanted to observe him, then fine. His task was to maintain relations, and observe the aliens. That was enough work already.
His work for today concluded, Thomas Cole slept, head filled with intrigue and concern.
+++++++++++
Terra Orbit, South Pole
Indomitable Spirit
Late Evening
Ambassador Thomas Cole had been warned by his predecessor, Stephen Miles, of the scale. How the primary loading bay they would take him to was the largest.
It did not help. He watched though a reinforced window. This hanger was over 5 kilometers long, 700 meters tall, and 500 meters deep. Five thousand meters of open space, separated from the void by a large permeable energy field that somehow maintained atmospheric pressure.
The notes from both the order's agents and even the Adeptus Mechanicus' military reports noted how this was a strategic weakness. Should all four sets of shields fail, everyone in the hanger would be blown into the void.
[They could hold warships in here. No, a fleet.]
Dozens of dropship sized landers and thousands of military vehicles crowded the space. It was easy for his entire dropship to land. There wasn't any need for complex maneuvers where they had to clear hanger space for the backblast from the fusion torches. No need to carefully hover inside. All they had to do was turn off the grav-plates in a straight line and slowly tick it back on. A smallcraft simply pushed the dropship in the right direction.
His suitcase lightly clattered on his lap as gravity returned to the standard 9.81. This was power. Few words would match the display. The ship itself was too large to believe. A scale too much for the mind to wrap around. For Blake's sake, there was a small city located on the rear of the ship. Two square kilometers of metal towers in some parody of a civilization.
With a brief exhale, he stood up and left his private cabin. He counted the time until he was at the airlock. [40 odd seconds to reach the exit door.] It felt much longer. His footsteps echoed as he made his way.
The biologists and agents, previously consumed by reports and diagrams were also silent as they took in the ship's scale. The doors opened with a hiss. He let the others make their way down the ramp first.
It was quiet. That was the first thing he noted. It was too quiet. Where was the sound, the people? If it was a calculated maneuver to remind them of the war, it was as subtle as the ship. And just as eye catching.
Hovercraft made their way across the floor, bearing materials. Idle battlemechs sat in the far distance. Empty ASF were strewn throughout the hanger. There were only scattered groups of workers or personnel dotting the hanger. A hanger this size should be teeming with life, with activity even if the ships were at rest. He knew crowds, and could gauge density rather well.
Mere hundreds were in the space. He knew the casualties from Operation Alexandria were high. The battleroms showed the brutality of both the Adeptus Mechanicus and the aliens. Battles with tens of thousands at war. Often escalating to hundreds of thousands. Sometimes millions. This ship could easily carry them.
And this was the aftermath. For a moment he considered a similar fate. Of a city-no, Worlds, safe, but empty. Its people gone. Sacrificed on the terrible altar of war or soon to be. He dared not consider the darker outcome. He pushed down the memories of Cradle or Forerunner before it could unsettle him.
This was it. The cold calm of duty came over him. Resolve, clear and true. This was when he truly internalized the stakes.
The Chief-Fabricator welcomed him and his staff personally. Everyone was gifted a servo-drone. A large, metal drone that hovered above the ground. Pamphlets were handed out, covered in voice commands. The ship was simply too big for maps to help with navigating inside. Combined with security concerns, it was simpler to have drones accompany them and display maps when asked.
They were given free reign to roam the ship. No curfew and few restrictions aside from ship critical areas.
There was a piece of parchment on his, almost a foot long.
Testing and observing the aliens would come tomorrow morning, after everyone was settled and their equipment. There was a charging port for the drone, one inside and one outside of the room. How kind of them to indicate they were under surveillance. With his things away and his schedule clear until tomorrow, he went on a walk.
He was assigned a guide. A woman by the name of Erene Lamda-1000. She had 2 mechanical tentacles protruding out of her robes. If it weren't for the literal breast plate, he might not have realized it was a woman. The mechanical voice was barely feminine.
There were trains on the ship. Trains. Four of them ran along the ship, two for each direction. The top train was for more local stops, and the bottom was express. He rode the local to the other side of the ship. It took fifteen minutes. How odd, that in a few days, this would be simply another part of his day. Of no concern as he practiced the art of diplomacy.
He decided to ride in one of the general cars. There were private train cars, but he declined. Again, to few people for a ship this size. More cybernetic monsters in red robes and calm, subdued people. A few came up to him and asked questions in their two languages, standard 1 and 2. He asked some in return. His guide translated for him.
They asked of his order, and if they would forge an alliance. He gave the plants neutral answers. A pair of children. Two girls, ran aboard the train, bearing toolboxes. Followed by a large servo-drone. They couldn't have been older than 13. Their work clothes were covered in oil and grime. One of them dropped a wrench. While he was no mechanic, he could tell the wrench was somehow beyond the millennia old tool he would find on Terra.
They stayed away from him, and sat at the other end of the train. In minutes, the pair quickly fell asleep. The very picture of exhaustion. Peacefully slumbering.
The guide said nothing and neither did he. Whatever guided conversation was there would be handled another time.
He saw much. Regular men and women hard at work keeping their home alive. Silent and enduring. More cybermen, working on tasks he had no inkling of. Hulking Giants and power armored soldiers manning security stations. He decided not to ask them questions. Even to his untrained eye, their labor was difficult. And to his discomfort, not an act.
He encountered a shrine, devoted to unknown members of the Adeptus Mechanicus. The first of many he would find.
A painting, depicting a collection of soldiers, 'techpriests', and a 'archmagos'. They stood tall, weapons bared before a dark hallway. Squinting his eyes, he could make out subtle differences in the dark paint, forming hulking shapes. 'For those we cherish.' It read. Candles burned at the base of the painting.
His aid took notes. Encoded and obscured behind phrases. And after 3 hours, he returned. It was 9pm, and he would spend the rest of the night planning.
There were unlit candles on the nightstand, with accompanying matches. A strange contrast to the simple electric lamp above them.
He personally translated the parchment message. Messages of support and friendship. Of alliance against the threat. There was a hint of literal xenophobia. He charged the servo-drone inside his room. If they wanted to observe him, then fine. His task was to maintain relations, and observe the aliens. That was enough work already.
His work for today concluded, Thomas Cole slept, head filled with intrigue and concern.
+++++++++++
Sidestory: SAFE Captain John Doe (During Chapter 6)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 8, 3020
Terra Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Testing Range 91
Early Afternoon
SAFE strike team captain John Doe looked up from the uneven block of metal he just chopped up. With a power sword. It had taken a few swings, but that was mostly his unfamiliarity with using one. There were Draconis Combine fanatics that would kill (even more people than usual) for a sword that could cut through steel like butter. And there were hundreds of them.
Not just swords. Hammers, claws, axes, halberds, spears, even gauntlets and whatever else you could think of. It was ridiculous.
He didn't know what to truly expect when he boarded the Indomitable Spirit. When the call came for reliable SAFE agents to join the delegation to Terra, he was on standby. Using his emergency powers, the Captain-General selected a handful of reliable agents with as few political connections as possible to continue surveying the Adeptus Mechanicus' technology with their blessing.
Most of the delegation left to survey the more exotic weapons. Grav-weaponry, Plasma and Melta were the sought after. None of them wanted to go near the secured rad-carbines.
When he looked over at the assembled technologies, the armory was massive, some 400 meters long. Each section contained a great deal of weapons, overseen by a group of red-robed cybernetic men(?). He concealed his unease as best he could, but he knew the protests and easily suppressed riots in the streets would have left a very negative impression.
That the Adeptus Mechanicus had allowed them to still come aboard spoke of the Captain-General's skill in diplomacy. They were very kind, almost wastefully generous in their perusal. Lasguns? Take them. Plasma? Limited to pistols and lesser models, but still available. The real killers: Grav, volkite, and extremely rare weapons? They could hold and test fire, and if efforts in production are fruitful, they could be convinced to part with them in the future.
He had received a briefing on the aliens. They were large, dense and if the scientists' tests were correct, incredibly hard to kill without heavy weapons. So, personal and infantry weapons it was.
The rest of his associates were crowded around the only 4 grav-guns available in the entire armory. If they were waiting, they test fired the plasma cannons. When those were cooling down, they pretended they weren't roaming the selection.
And that was how he was holding a powersword. Again, quite ridiculous. And yet he wouldn't want to infiltrate an alien stronghold or repel intruders in close quarters without something like this. He looked up at the mechancius officer nearby. It was somewhat easy to ignore the incredibly invasive cybernetics when discussing weapons technology.
The portions of metal the sword had passed through were slightly glowing red with heat.
He thumbed the power switch. The arcing blue 'power-field' disappeared. Over the course of his career, he had picked up many skills, and among them a limited use of swordsmanship. It would take months to become proficient with it. And years to master.
The Adeptus Mechanicus had granted them limited access to forms on swordsmanship, allegedly penned by one of the astartes for regular human use. Combat footage was also included. Battleroms. He had seen the heights of mastery available.
"Will the Adeptus Mechanicus be selling these power weapons in the near future?" He asked when the nearby infantry commander practically living in the here gave up to go fire "melta guns" at the target dummies. SAFE had made a report on how the Mechanicus were no doubt low on supplies and seemed to have no money beyond precious metals. He was high enough in command to take a look. John Doe had a few million he could spare.
Their four blue eyes clicked.
"I would like to put down a reservation for 600,000 C-bills should they become available for sale. If possible, could I buy 4 for 2.3 million?" That should be well above the production price and manpower time. He wouldn't even ask for a warranty or repair manual, cementing him as a permanent customer.
He would need a spare, oh and two to dole out for favors. Best to get in before the rest of Parliament or the League started to open its wallets. Someone else had already attempted to buy a high quality long-las and after some fast talking with the Captain-General's representative, made it happen. Ambassador Chel had managed to persuade the mechanicus representative to send a small shipment of weapons as a 'gift'.
The mechanicus undoubtedly knew supply and demand, right?
++++++++++++++
Hmmmmm, graft and lying to foreign representatives. ClassicStar League Free Worlds League
Terra Orbit
Indomitable Spirit Testing Range 91
Early Afternoon
SAFE strike team captain John Doe looked up from the uneven block of metal he just chopped up. With a power sword. It had taken a few swings, but that was mostly his unfamiliarity with using one. There were Draconis Combine fanatics that would kill (even more people than usual) for a sword that could cut through steel like butter. And there were hundreds of them.
Not just swords. Hammers, claws, axes, halberds, spears, even gauntlets and whatever else you could think of. It was ridiculous.
He didn't know what to truly expect when he boarded the Indomitable Spirit. When the call came for reliable SAFE agents to join the delegation to Terra, he was on standby. Using his emergency powers, the Captain-General selected a handful of reliable agents with as few political connections as possible to continue surveying the Adeptus Mechanicus' technology with their blessing.
Most of the delegation left to survey the more exotic weapons. Grav-weaponry, Plasma and Melta were the sought after. None of them wanted to go near the secured rad-carbines.
When he looked over at the assembled technologies, the armory was massive, some 400 meters long. Each section contained a great deal of weapons, overseen by a group of red-robed cybernetic men(?). He concealed his unease as best he could, but he knew the protests and easily suppressed riots in the streets would have left a very negative impression.
That the Adeptus Mechanicus had allowed them to still come aboard spoke of the Captain-General's skill in diplomacy. They were very kind, almost wastefully generous in their perusal. Lasguns? Take them. Plasma? Limited to pistols and lesser models, but still available. The real killers: Grav, volkite, and extremely rare weapons? They could hold and test fire, and if efforts in production are fruitful, they could be convinced to part with them in the future.
He had received a briefing on the aliens. They were large, dense and if the scientists' tests were correct, incredibly hard to kill without heavy weapons. So, personal and infantry weapons it was.
The rest of his associates were crowded around the only 4 grav-guns available in the entire armory. If they were waiting, they test fired the plasma cannons. When those were cooling down, they pretended they weren't roaming the selection.
And that was how he was holding a powersword. Again, quite ridiculous. And yet he wouldn't want to infiltrate an alien stronghold or repel intruders in close quarters without something like this. He looked up at the mechancius officer nearby. It was somewhat easy to ignore the incredibly invasive cybernetics when discussing weapons technology.
The portions of metal the sword had passed through were slightly glowing red with heat.
He thumbed the power switch. The arcing blue 'power-field' disappeared. Over the course of his career, he had picked up many skills, and among them a limited use of swordsmanship. It would take months to become proficient with it. And years to master.
The Adeptus Mechanicus had granted them limited access to forms on swordsmanship, allegedly penned by one of the astartes for regular human use. Combat footage was also included. Battleroms. He had seen the heights of mastery available.
"Will the Adeptus Mechanicus be selling these power weapons in the near future?" He asked when the nearby infantry commander practically living in the here gave up to go fire "melta guns" at the target dummies. SAFE had made a report on how the Mechanicus were no doubt low on supplies and seemed to have no money beyond precious metals. He was high enough in command to take a look. John Doe had a few million he could spare.
Their four blue eyes clicked.
"I would like to put down a reservation for 600,000 C-bills should they become available for sale. If possible, could I buy 4 for 2.3 million?" That should be well above the production price and manpower time. He wouldn't even ask for a warranty or repair manual, cementing him as a permanent customer.
He would need a spare, oh and two to dole out for favors. Best to get in before the rest of Parliament or the League started to open its wallets. Someone else had already attempted to buy a high quality long-las and after some fast talking with the Captain-General's representative, made it happen. Ambassador Chel had managed to persuade the mechanicus representative to send a small shipment of weapons as a 'gift'.
The mechanicus undoubtedly knew supply and demand, right?
++++++++++++++
Hmmmmm, graft and lying to foreign representatives. Classic
Sidestory: ROM Agent (During Chapter 6)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 9, 3020
Terran Surface
Hilton Hotel
Afternoon
Year ago, Caroline Singh of ROM had been recruited to join the ranks of ROM, serving Blake's mission across the stars. Her family was raised from the poverty stricken slums adorning her homeworld. Little Eric was allowed to get an education. And in only two years, he would finally finish his residency. Her parents were safe and their worn bodies seen to. They enjoyed a simple life on Terra, protected from the foul House Lords. In exchange, she pledged her life to the cause.
When it called, she answered. There was no task she would shy from. Eventually, her loyalty had seen her inducted into the critical office of ROM. When asked if she was willing to spill blood, hers and others, to guide mankind to a better path she agreed without hesitation.
Comstar had invested a fortune in ensuring she would be among their best. She in turn gave them everything she had. While she was not the fastest or the deadliest among the Order, she was far, far closer than most.
And yet…she was useless here. It was an unfamiliar feeling. They waited in hidden hallway, only 80 meters away from the chambers where the Primus and Chief-Fabricator would meet again. It was an emergency posting, just in case the meetings ever turned violent. Ten of the Orders finest. For all the good it would do.
Her beloved Tornado, almost on the cutting edge of Star League technology was now the inferior platform. Its defenses would be found wanting before the Adeptus Mechanicus' weapons. Any weapon in her arsenal would fail to pierce the unseen energy shields adorning the Chief-Fabricator and his guards. Was this how her mentors felt, as time creeped in? The new replacing the old? As they watched her get closer and closer to their records and achievements.
A Giant was a lumbering behemoth. Nearly 3 meters tall, and probably 3 times her Tornado's weight. According to the mission briefing, they were armed with squad level heavy weapons. As standard.
The astartes were smaller, but that little to diminish the sheer power and grace they exuded. Her Tornado was a work of art, but even she couldn't make it look that easy to use. They didn't pilot it. They didn't wear it. They were it. Seamless integration of suit and wearer.
Even the rank and file had access to battlearmor. The Sigillite power armor was a mass produced, high-quality, piece of equipment.
Apparently the Adeptus Mechanicus had a tradition when meeting with equals where they would visibly put their weapons aside after arriving. To their minor credit, the actual Diplomatic Party came with their very few weapons, and all unloaded. They were quickly placed aside, at the entrance of the Hilton Hotel.
That was cold comfort when one of the Giants waiting outside had a hammer the size of her fucking torso. She eyed an astartes speaking with a red-robed mechanicus official. The ejection port on the astartes' 'bolter' was almost as long her foot. The cur had the gall to bring 3 drum magazines.
She idly studied the live feed of a soldier in Sigillite armor. Giants and Astartes were bioengineered monsters, but this was a regular human being. It didn't look like a standard set of armor. A spiked ring jutted out of the armor's power supply. The white-haired woman piloting the suit had taken her helmet off. She seemed totally at ease. Features almost inhumanly blank as she guarded the lander.
[The Primus will humor them for now.] Until they understood how they work. Until they have those very same weapons in their hands. And when, not if, the time came, they would be ready.
She was still young, and would easily be eligible for these new tools.
What could she do with that kind of armor? There was a power sword on the woman's hip. A weapon capable of carving armor apart. Rumors abound of 'grav-weapons', foreign tools that turned the very forces of gravity on its targets. One of the deposited weapons was a 'plasma pistol'. Could her squad kill a Giant if they had access to new weapons? Could they kill a 'space marine'?
Could she kill a Chief-Fabricator?
+++[Sidestory End]+++
I do enjoy writing these pieces, even though they don't show advance the plot. The unnamed or unseen, but still present characters and people that don't need a part in the main story.
Terran Surface
Hilton Hotel
Afternoon
Year ago, Caroline Singh of ROM had been recruited to join the ranks of ROM, serving Blake's mission across the stars. Her family was raised from the poverty stricken slums adorning her homeworld. Little Eric was allowed to get an education. And in only two years, he would finally finish his residency. Her parents were safe and their worn bodies seen to. They enjoyed a simple life on Terra, protected from the foul House Lords. In exchange, she pledged her life to the cause.
When it called, she answered. There was no task she would shy from. Eventually, her loyalty had seen her inducted into the critical office of ROM. When asked if she was willing to spill blood, hers and others, to guide mankind to a better path she agreed without hesitation.
Comstar had invested a fortune in ensuring she would be among their best. She in turn gave them everything she had. While she was not the fastest or the deadliest among the Order, she was far, far closer than most.
And yet…she was useless here. It was an unfamiliar feeling. They waited in hidden hallway, only 80 meters away from the chambers where the Primus and Chief-Fabricator would meet again. It was an emergency posting, just in case the meetings ever turned violent. Ten of the Orders finest. For all the good it would do.
Her beloved Tornado, almost on the cutting edge of Star League technology was now the inferior platform. Its defenses would be found wanting before the Adeptus Mechanicus' weapons. Any weapon in her arsenal would fail to pierce the unseen energy shields adorning the Chief-Fabricator and his guards. Was this how her mentors felt, as time creeped in? The new replacing the old? As they watched her get closer and closer to their records and achievements.
A Giant was a lumbering behemoth. Nearly 3 meters tall, and probably 3 times her Tornado's weight. According to the mission briefing, they were armed with squad level heavy weapons. As standard.
The astartes were smaller, but that little to diminish the sheer power and grace they exuded. Her Tornado was a work of art, but even she couldn't make it look that easy to use. They didn't pilot it. They didn't wear it. They were it. Seamless integration of suit and wearer.
Even the rank and file had access to battlearmor. The Sigillite power armor was a mass produced, high-quality, piece of equipment.
Apparently the Adeptus Mechanicus had a tradition when meeting with equals where they would visibly put their weapons aside after arriving. To their minor credit, the actual Diplomatic Party came with their very few weapons, and all unloaded. They were quickly placed aside, at the entrance of the Hilton Hotel.
That was cold comfort when one of the Giants waiting outside had a hammer the size of her fucking torso. She eyed an astartes speaking with a red-robed mechanicus official. The ejection port on the astartes' 'bolter' was almost as long her foot. The cur had the gall to bring 3 drum magazines.
She idly studied the live feed of a soldier in Sigillite armor. Giants and Astartes were bioengineered monsters, but this was a regular human being. It didn't look like a standard set of armor. A spiked ring jutted out of the armor's power supply. The white-haired woman piloting the suit had taken her helmet off. She seemed totally at ease. Features almost inhumanly blank as she guarded the lander.
[The Primus will humor them for now.] Until they understood how they work. Until they have those very same weapons in their hands. And when, not if, the time came, they would be ready.
She was still young, and would easily be eligible for these new tools.
What could she do with that kind of armor? There was a power sword on the woman's hip. A weapon capable of carving armor apart. Rumors abound of 'grav-weapons', foreign tools that turned the very forces of gravity on its targets. One of the deposited weapons was a 'plasma pistol'. Could her squad kill a Giant if they had access to new weapons? Could they kill a 'space marine'?
Could she kill a Chief-Fabricator?
+++[Sidestory End]+++
I do enjoy writing these pieces, even though they don't show advance the plot. The unnamed or unseen, but still present characters and people that don't need a part in the main story.
Sidestory: Titan Threat Assessment (During Chapter 6)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
December 25, 3019
Xenos World 7, "Tempera"
Afternoon
It towered above the battlefield. Banners hung from its shoulders. The horns mounted on its back blared a deafening challenge to all who could hear it.
The circling cloud of servo-drones it looked like specks of dirt. Men seemed no more than ants as they defended its base. Tanks resembled toys as they protected its flanks. And battlemechs only mere infants.
Entire columns of alien tanks fired at the towering battlemech, only to be blocked by a shimmering barrier. Enough force to shatter lances was diverted with laughable ease.
Its guns returned death. One, bright lances of red light. The other, blue plasma. Two massive anti-air arrays sat on its shoulders, clearing the sky of almost anything in a 6 kilometers radius.
Rows of vehicles turned into vaporized mist. Thousands of aliens were annihilated from existence.
Its footsteps carved trenches through the hills. Stray alien buildings collapsed before its stride. Tanks turned into flattened disks. The camera shook with every step.
A Titan walked the earth.
Classified: First Circuit's Eyes Only:
Threat Profile: Titan Superheavy Battlemech
Parameters:
Height: Approximately 65 meters
Weight: N/A
Piloting Requirements: N/A
Crew: N/A
Heat Production: N/A
Deployment Time: N/A
Production Cost/Time Estimate: N/A
Executive Summary:
It is the direct conclusion of this body that conventional means are insufficient to effectively disable or destroy a single Titan.
Battlerom analysis indicates the Adeptus Mechanicus only deploy Titans alongside significant numbers of supporting elements. The Chief-Fabricator has confirmed to Free Worlds League observers there are multiple weapons options available to both titans, for multiple mission profiles.
The presence of the Indomitable Spirit further complicates any attempt to engage a Titan. Any attempt to destroy or disable a Titan Class battlemech via conventional means will likely require the near total sacrifice of the Comguards and standing Comstar Fleet.
It is unlikely supporting elements from Mercenary or House forces will be able to significantly change the outcome of a conventional engagement.
The only effective methods available to the Order are local nuclear saturation or orbital bombardment.
Description:
The Adeptus Mechanucs Titan Class battlemech is the largest battlemech ever produced in history. Armed with 4 primary weapons systems, of which 2 are always capital class weapons.
The shoulder mounted weapons appear interchangeable, and can be changed between deployments. Both arms of a Titan end in weapon mounts, and possess no hands.
Files forwarded by the Adeptus Mechanicus allege there are only 2 remaining titans. The Indomitable Spirit is capable of deploying both Titans with space capable drop pods.
…
Xenos World 7, "Tempera"
Afternoon
It towered above the battlefield. Banners hung from its shoulders. The horns mounted on its back blared a deafening challenge to all who could hear it.
The circling cloud of servo-drones it looked like specks of dirt. Men seemed no more than ants as they defended its base. Tanks resembled toys as they protected its flanks. And battlemechs only mere infants.
Entire columns of alien tanks fired at the towering battlemech, only to be blocked by a shimmering barrier. Enough force to shatter lances was diverted with laughable ease.
Its guns returned death. One, bright lances of red light. The other, blue plasma. Two massive anti-air arrays sat on its shoulders, clearing the sky of almost anything in a 6 kilometers radius.
Rows of vehicles turned into vaporized mist. Thousands of aliens were annihilated from existence.
Its footsteps carved trenches through the hills. Stray alien buildings collapsed before its stride. Tanks turned into flattened disks. The camera shook with every step.
A Titan walked the earth.
Classified: First Circuit's Eyes Only:
Threat Profile: Titan Superheavy Battlemech
Parameters:
Height: Approximately 65 meters
Weight: N/A
Piloting Requirements: N/A
Crew: N/A
Heat Production: N/A
Deployment Time: N/A
Production Cost/Time Estimate: N/A
Executive Summary:
It is the direct conclusion of this body that conventional means are insufficient to effectively disable or destroy a single Titan.
Battlerom analysis indicates the Adeptus Mechanicus only deploy Titans alongside significant numbers of supporting elements. The Chief-Fabricator has confirmed to Free Worlds League observers there are multiple weapons options available to both titans, for multiple mission profiles.
The presence of the Indomitable Spirit further complicates any attempt to engage a Titan. Any attempt to destroy or disable a Titan Class battlemech via conventional means will likely require the near total sacrifice of the Comguards and standing Comstar Fleet.
It is unlikely supporting elements from Mercenary or House forces will be able to significantly change the outcome of a conventional engagement.
The only effective methods available to the Order are local nuclear saturation or orbital bombardment.
Description:
The Adeptus Mechanucs Titan Class battlemech is the largest battlemech ever produced in history. Armed with 4 primary weapons systems, of which 2 are always capital class weapons.
The shoulder mounted weapons appear interchangeable, and can be changed between deployments. Both arms of a Titan end in weapon mounts, and possess no hands.
Files forwarded by the Adeptus Mechanicus allege there are only 2 remaining titans. The Indomitable Spirit is capable of deploying both Titans with space capable drop pods.
…
Sidestory: Politics in the First Circuit (During Chapter 6)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 10, 3020
Terra
Hilton Hotel
Late Evening
Precentor ROM silently watched as Precentor Sian and Avalon continued their 'discussion'. The Primus seemed content to allow them to continue as they awaited connection from Precentor Tharkad. Precentor Dieron wouldn't be available for the next 10 hours and Precentor Atreus was busy.
"Four super-capital ships Precentor! Leviathan! Goliath! Locust! Behemoth! Hundreds of vessels accompanying them. There is no military force that can stand against a threat of that level." Precentor Sian declared. The man was near red in the face as Precentor Avalon remained impassive.
"And you would drag the Blessed Order into such a conflict? It has been 3 days. We cannot give into panic. The Adeptus Mechanicus claim they are violent savages, with no room for peace or mercy. They will naturally exaggerate their claims. We cannot take their word blindly. I agree, preparations must be made, but not immediate military action." Precentor Avalon harshly rebutted, as if admonishing a child.
"And what will we do when we declare neutrality? The Adeptus Mechanicus won't stand for it. The Houses won't either. You assume reasonability from the Successor Lords. We will be committed. By Blake, we hold the home world, manage banking, control telecommunications across the Inner Sphere, and seem defenseless. The Order is a strategic target. We will be attacked!" Precentor Sian hissed.
He suppressed his nod at that. And the desire to rebuke him for implying Holy Shroud had weakened humanity. That discussion was going to tear its way across ROM. Even some of his own hand-picked analysts were going to pick sides. It was going to get worse as the office at the MRB began to investigate the official BattleROM's.
At that, Precentor Avalon had no immediate reply.
The Primus did not intervene in the silence and that was all the permission Precentor Sian needed. "Well?"
"And what would you recommend then? Miraculously mend the ties between Successor states? Hire a permanent mercenary army? Reveal the Comguards and the fleet?" Precentor Avalon challenged. He leaned forward. They were toeing the line now.
"Consider the following: The Adeptus Mechanicus could be lying to us. The aliens may only have grievances with them. We side with them, not knowing this. The Order comes under unnecessary threat." Avalon continued, pointing at Sian.
Precentor Sian's face contorted, eyes quickly darting to both himself and the Primus. He let his face convey his thoughts. Not here. Not now.
[-]
The Primus departed for a break, leaving Precentor Avalon to subtly gloat over Sian. His presence would keep the two from going too far. They would be ordered to make repairs and maintenance to their HPG's after some time.
Precentor Sian was choosing to take the long road. Believing he could ride out the storm and the new order. Precentor Avalon chose to follow the path laid before them, waiting for an answer or maybe favorable terms. They weren't fools, but the First Circuit behaved as it always did.
Let them waste their time arguing with one another.
Terra
Hilton Hotel
Late Evening
Precentor ROM silently watched as Precentor Sian and Avalon continued their 'discussion'. The Primus seemed content to allow them to continue as they awaited connection from Precentor Tharkad. Precentor Dieron wouldn't be available for the next 10 hours and Precentor Atreus was busy.
"Four super-capital ships Precentor! Leviathan! Goliath! Locust! Behemoth! Hundreds of vessels accompanying them. There is no military force that can stand against a threat of that level." Precentor Sian declared. The man was near red in the face as Precentor Avalon remained impassive.
"And you would drag the Blessed Order into such a conflict? It has been 3 days. We cannot give into panic. The Adeptus Mechanicus claim they are violent savages, with no room for peace or mercy. They will naturally exaggerate their claims. We cannot take their word blindly. I agree, preparations must be made, but not immediate military action." Precentor Avalon harshly rebutted, as if admonishing a child.
"And what will we do when we declare neutrality? The Adeptus Mechanicus won't stand for it. The Houses won't either. You assume reasonability from the Successor Lords. We will be committed. By Blake, we hold the home world, manage banking, control telecommunications across the Inner Sphere, and seem defenseless. The Order is a strategic target. We will be attacked!" Precentor Sian hissed.
He suppressed his nod at that. And the desire to rebuke him for implying Holy Shroud had weakened humanity. That discussion was going to tear its way across ROM. Even some of his own hand-picked analysts were going to pick sides. It was going to get worse as the office at the MRB began to investigate the official BattleROM's.
At that, Precentor Avalon had no immediate reply.
The Primus did not intervene in the silence and that was all the permission Precentor Sian needed. "Well?"
"And what would you recommend then? Miraculously mend the ties between Successor states? Hire a permanent mercenary army? Reveal the Comguards and the fleet?" Precentor Avalon challenged. He leaned forward. They were toeing the line now.
"Consider the following: The Adeptus Mechanicus could be lying to us. The aliens may only have grievances with them. We side with them, not knowing this. The Order comes under unnecessary threat." Avalon continued, pointing at Sian.
Precentor Sian's face contorted, eyes quickly darting to both himself and the Primus. He let his face convey his thoughts. Not here. Not now.
[-]
The Primus departed for a break, leaving Precentor Avalon to subtly gloat over Sian. His presence would keep the two from going too far. They would be ordered to make repairs and maintenance to their HPG's after some time.
Precentor Sian was choosing to take the long road. Believing he could ride out the storm and the new order. Precentor Avalon chose to follow the path laid before them, waiting for an answer or maybe favorable terms. They weren't fools, but the First Circuit behaved as it always did.
Let them waste their time arguing with one another.
Sidestory: Youth (During Chapter 6)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 12, 3020
Atreus Surface
Atreus City, Gallagher Hospital
Afternoon
Captain-General Janos Marik stepped into the hospital room. It had taken more time than he thought to set time aside in his schedule. He ignored the sounds of his security detail filing behind him.
The woman and man sitting in their beds sat up as he approached. "You're both still recovering." He said when they made to get out their beds. "Stay in bed."
"My thanks, my lord." The now young Kyle stammered. Incredible. Simply incredible.
"How do you both feel?" He asked, inwardly marveling at the sight. Words and images did so little compared to the genuine article. He could see it, in the healthy flush in their faces. The removal of wrinkles and smoothed skin.
Just 7 days ago, Kyle Marchess was a 62-year-old man, with a stooped back and rasping voice. He had lived a modest life in service to the Free Worlds League, first in a militia, then moving to logistics as time took its tool. By the doctors' reports, he had another 20 years of moderate health.
"Amazing my Lord." Kyle answered, with a nod from his roommate.
Former Countess Erica Rossi was 89, having retired to Atreus for its medical services after her son had stepped forward to assume her station. While her homeworld was by no means poor, it was far better for her to simply move to Atreus City for easier access to care, compared to hiring doctors to move all the way to her family home. She was battling several medical conditions over the last several years. More notably, a very severe case of cataracts.
"I feel stronger every day." Erica continued, eyes sparkling with life. A rare unguarded smile came over her face. "If my health continues to improve, the doctors will approve my request to go on a run." She stated with pride.
He turned to one of their doctors, waiting patiently by the wall. The doctor pulled out a clipboard, leafing through it as he stepped forward. "That is correct Captain-General. After numerous tests, she should be able to perform the same activities as a 20-year-old."
A part of him wanted to observe it, but now that the Former Countess was a much younger woman (and objectively, regained her former beauty), it would be far to inappropriate now.
Secretary Johnson leaned forward. "Captain-General, its 3:00pm." And that was his time for this visit.
He wished them the best of luck, and humbly accepted their thanks. The other two volunteers collaborated Erica and Kyle's statements. It was a wise decision to empty the hospital floor. The outcry when the news eventually comes out will be significant.
The drive back to Parliament was silent.
The Chief-Fabricator has promised the volunteers would receive the highest possible rejuvenate treatment available. And he had delivered.
"Twenty" He whispered to the empty car. Rossi was 89 years old, and now she was 20. Sixty-nine years gone. The surgery was 3 hours. The rejuvanant would take 18 days to fully de-age her. De-age.
What a time to be alive. In a way he couldn't believe it. His political instincts protested the sheer audacity of the claim. It was just sitting in the documents, right above adamantium and power armor. No fanfare or special mention. Rejuvanent was just expected in the Adeptus Mechanicus. Its citizens just got to live that long.
How old was the Chief-Fabricator?
Some of the finest doctors on Atreus attended the surgeries. They couldn't make heads or tails or it. The Adeptus Mechanicus claimed the only negative effect was that depending on the grade, it would gradually fade, returning the patient to their original age.
Those 4 volunteers wouldn't have to deal with it. His people wouldn't need to deal it either. The Free Worlds League was given primarily high-grade recipes. They would only need to have treatment once every 10 years. Every 5 for the lesser formula and procedure.
And just as Malcador probably planned, he considered getting a dose himself.
He saw how alive they were. It was so tempting. All the experience of your twilight years, backed with youthful vigor.
Doctor Ackerman reported that technician's quote on the maximum effectiveness. A millennia. One thousand years. A little over one thousand revolutions around Atreus' sun. Over some fifteen times his age, if the process worked perfectly. Two hundred years of life if the doctors were reckless or the patient didn't take it at the ideal times.
"Dammit." He had total control over the supply and the materials. This kind of leverage only cemented his imminent victory over Parliament. The majority of votes he held were going to turn into a supermajority.
When was the last time he'd enjoyed such high support? God, it must have been decades ago. What was that old Terran quote? He was riding the leopard now. Jaguar? Some kind of large Terran cat. They'd be holding their hands out. The current Parliament was going to mostly stay the Parliament.
[Sidestory End]
Janos Marik realizes he'll be stuck with Humprhey's and the rest of Parliament for the rest of his (now much longer) life.
Atreus Surface
Atreus City, Gallagher Hospital
Afternoon
Captain-General Janos Marik stepped into the hospital room. It had taken more time than he thought to set time aside in his schedule. He ignored the sounds of his security detail filing behind him.
The woman and man sitting in their beds sat up as he approached. "You're both still recovering." He said when they made to get out their beds. "Stay in bed."
"My thanks, my lord." The now young Kyle stammered. Incredible. Simply incredible.
"How do you both feel?" He asked, inwardly marveling at the sight. Words and images did so little compared to the genuine article. He could see it, in the healthy flush in their faces. The removal of wrinkles and smoothed skin.
Just 7 days ago, Kyle Marchess was a 62-year-old man, with a stooped back and rasping voice. He had lived a modest life in service to the Free Worlds League, first in a militia, then moving to logistics as time took its tool. By the doctors' reports, he had another 20 years of moderate health.
"Amazing my Lord." Kyle answered, with a nod from his roommate.
Former Countess Erica Rossi was 89, having retired to Atreus for its medical services after her son had stepped forward to assume her station. While her homeworld was by no means poor, it was far better for her to simply move to Atreus City for easier access to care, compared to hiring doctors to move all the way to her family home. She was battling several medical conditions over the last several years. More notably, a very severe case of cataracts.
"I feel stronger every day." Erica continued, eyes sparkling with life. A rare unguarded smile came over her face. "If my health continues to improve, the doctors will approve my request to go on a run." She stated with pride.
He turned to one of their doctors, waiting patiently by the wall. The doctor pulled out a clipboard, leafing through it as he stepped forward. "That is correct Captain-General. After numerous tests, she should be able to perform the same activities as a 20-year-old."
A part of him wanted to observe it, but now that the Former Countess was a much younger woman (and objectively, regained her former beauty), it would be far to inappropriate now.
Secretary Johnson leaned forward. "Captain-General, its 3:00pm." And that was his time for this visit.
He wished them the best of luck, and humbly accepted their thanks. The other two volunteers collaborated Erica and Kyle's statements. It was a wise decision to empty the hospital floor. The outcry when the news eventually comes out will be significant.
The drive back to Parliament was silent.
The Chief-Fabricator has promised the volunteers would receive the highest possible rejuvenate treatment available. And he had delivered.
"Twenty" He whispered to the empty car. Rossi was 89 years old, and now she was 20. Sixty-nine years gone. The surgery was 3 hours. The rejuvanant would take 18 days to fully de-age her. De-age.
What a time to be alive. In a way he couldn't believe it. His political instincts protested the sheer audacity of the claim. It was just sitting in the documents, right above adamantium and power armor. No fanfare or special mention. Rejuvanent was just expected in the Adeptus Mechanicus. Its citizens just got to live that long.
How old was the Chief-Fabricator?
Some of the finest doctors on Atreus attended the surgeries. They couldn't make heads or tails or it. The Adeptus Mechanicus claimed the only negative effect was that depending on the grade, it would gradually fade, returning the patient to their original age.
Those 4 volunteers wouldn't have to deal with it. His people wouldn't need to deal it either. The Free Worlds League was given primarily high-grade recipes. They would only need to have treatment once every 10 years. Every 5 for the lesser formula and procedure.
And just as Malcador probably planned, he considered getting a dose himself.
He saw how alive they were. It was so tempting. All the experience of your twilight years, backed with youthful vigor.
Doctor Ackerman reported that technician's quote on the maximum effectiveness. A millennia. One thousand years. A little over one thousand revolutions around Atreus' sun. Over some fifteen times his age, if the process worked perfectly. Two hundred years of life if the doctors were reckless or the patient didn't take it at the ideal times.
"Dammit." He had total control over the supply and the materials. This kind of leverage only cemented his imminent victory over Parliament. The majority of votes he held were going to turn into a supermajority.
When was the last time he'd enjoyed such high support? God, it must have been decades ago. What was that old Terran quote? He was riding the leopard now. Jaguar? Some kind of large Terran cat. They'd be holding their hands out. The current Parliament was going to mostly stay the Parliament.
[Sidestory End]
Janos Marik realizes he'll be stuck with Humprhey's and the rest of Parliament for the rest of his (now much longer) life.
Sidestory: Stolen MIIO Notes (Post Chapter 6)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
MIIO Agent Micheal Henderson's personal notes
Extracted by ROM, dated February 19, 3020
Personal File: Chief-Fabricator of the Adeptus Mechanicus
Full Name: Malcador-47864307-RoR-TTSTR
Age: Unknown
Codex notes indicate Malcador is at least 200 years old, having reached the rank of archmagos
Sex: Male
Ship of Origin: Revelation of Recovery
Prior Ship Posting: The Sigillite
Current Ship: Indomitable Spirit
Combat Capabilities:
Extracted by ROM, dated February 19, 3020
Personal File: Chief-Fabricator of the Adeptus Mechanicus
Full Name: Malcador-47864307-RoR-TTSTR
Age: Unknown
Codex notes indicate Malcador is at least 200 years old, having reached the rank of archmagos
Sex: Male
Ship of Origin: Revelation of Recovery
- According to the Codex, the Chief-Fabricator was born on the Revelation of Recovery (Now referred to as the Revelation). The Revelation was noted to be the most liberal of the Adeptus Mechanicus Fleet.
- The Chief-Fabricator has displayed activities that contradict cultural norms presented in the Codex. Including a willingness to share technology, and more importantly the soft dissolution of the Adeptus Mechanicus' religion
Prior Ship Posting: The Sigillite
- The Sigillite is noted to have been a moderate politically
- Further analysis indicates that the Sigillite was beginning to lean more conservatively, valuing the continuation of the Adeptus Mechanicus' norms
- The Chief-Fabricator's rank before promotion was Archmagos-Cybernetica. A role responsible for installation and maintenance of cybernetics. The Chief-Fabricator has boasted that he is among the foremost cybernetics experts in the Adeptus Mechanicus
- The Chief-Fabricator was allegedly onboard the Destiny Ascension as part of the diplomatic party's staff before being evacuated to the Indomitable Spirit as the battle turned for the worst
Current Ship: Indomitable Spirit
- Reports by Ambassador Jacobs collaborate lack of internal strife above Indomitable Spirit. Warns approval rating among Indomitable Spirit possible approaches 95%
- How exactly the Chief-Fabricator, a cybernetics expert, ascended to the rank of Commander-In-Chief of the Mechanicus is not completely clear
Combat Capabilities:
- Combat footage of the Chief-Fabricator is low, with only one engagement on alien world "Tempera". Chief-Fabricator
- War-Chassis of the Chief-Fabricator was noted to be over 3 meters tall, possessing 4 arms and 1 mechadendrite cybernetic
- War-Chassis appears to be a complete body, and not a suit of power-armor
- War-Chassis appears to be close to a Giant in strength
- Weapons observed: Two rotary lasguns, 1 heavy melta cannon, 1 heavy grav-weapon, and modified staff of office
- Chief-Fabricator is to be considered highly dangerous, heavy weapons will be required in order to protect First Prince if needed
- Defenses observed: Unknown type of shield generator. Possible Rosarius placed on chest piece
Sidestory: Theseus Procedure (During Chapter 6)
New
Titanicmark2
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2021
- Messages
- 44
- Likes received
- 255
February 10, 3020
Terra Surface
Classified
Early Morning
Precentor ROM, Tojo Jarlath, put down the report.
The all-night work shifts in ROM reduced the number of personnel during the morning. Perfect for him to minimize scrutiny on his personal activities. When the analysts had marked a priority 1 item in the Panacea files, he was admittingly skeptical. They had a cure for almost all human diseases, what could be just as important?
He silently removed his glasses, glad that he had decided to come in early. Gently massaging the bridge of nose did nothing to alleviate his stress.
It turns out, quite important. The Theseus Procedure. Named after an ancient terran thought experiment on the nature of time and how parts relate to a whole.
Absently, he flicked a button on his desk. No visitors. No disruptions short of Blake rising from the Earth or the end of the world. Now he could have a breakdown in peace. He ran hands through his hair, trying to straighten it.
Of the many procedures inside the Adeptus Mechanicus' Panacea files, he didn't believe he would find something like this.
The final logical conclusion when you can simply heal essentially any medical condition with a strong enough dose. It was honestly the most straightforward procedure in the database after just injecting someone with Panacea. Organ rejection rates were effectively 0%. Fully reconnecting nerves? Realigning bones? Balancing hormone production? Resettling the skin? No, they just sorted themselves out as long as the surgeon put the corresponding organs in correctly.
And if there was a failure, stasis the patient and vat grow new organs. Restart the surgery when ready.
He absently thumbed through his desk. Where were his-ah there. The white bottle rattled as he withdrew it. He took three extra strength Dura-Tylenol for his impending headache. It was over his doctor's recommended dosage. Well, not anymore, he just take a draught of Panacea and undo any liver or kidney damage.
This would change the course of history, just as much as the Panacea itself, probably even more so. Humanity had sought this prize for as long as it lived. From the first primitive civilizations to even the height of the Star League.
Eternal Youth.
And it was here. This procedure wasn't a rejuvanant treatment, fading away in a few short years. No, it was a reset of life. Your entire natural lifespan returned to you, and infinitely repeatable, with no negative consequences physically. If the subject didn't go insane from living forever, you could comfortably live past-well, everything.
The two procedures were almost barbaric. One by one, strip out every organ system except the brain. Install fresh, new, Panacea treated organs. Rebuild the patient. Keep applying Panacea. Ensure the patient was assembled correctly, enough so that the Panacea would finish the job. Apply more Panacea.
Done.
The Adeptus Mechanicus could start and finish the procedure in 20 hours. They boasted Panacea would be done in around 2 weeks. To the patient, you would go under and wake up, revitalized without any concerns.
The new, alternative version was just taking someone's brain out and putting it in a perfected, cloned body. Approximately 1.5 weeks for treatment to finish. The process was technically longer since the body had to be cloned, built or assembled before the procedure. [Not that it mattered since they just planned on stasis'ing the bodies.]
That wasn't even the beginning of it. He could read between the lines. The body was a plaything now. Just clone and mold whatever body you wanted. Be taller, be smaller. Graft an additional set of arms if you wanted to. Change your race, change your face, change your height, change your age, change your gender, change your everything. Transhumanism at its core.
Primus Teipolo would be furious if he didn't send the file today. He could delay for a few short hours, under the excuse of it being lower on his work desk or needing to reconfirm it.
But he felt it. The Adeptus Mechanicus were not lying. They used this. They did this. That explained how their men fought in such horrible conditions. This was how they survived such horrible cybernetics. Oh no. Another rush of goosebumps in realization.
In just a few days, the Primus was going to have the Chief-Fabricator personally demonstrate Panacea, just as he promised. It was a desperate time saving measure, at the cost of giving them more political leverage.
He idly considered the wider political ramifications beyond heads of state living forever. Perhaps the Adeptus Mechanicus really did believe they mankind might go extinct. That was the only logical conclusion why someone would willingly hand this out. Why worry about the future if you don't have one? Malcador admitted that if he could build a new Star League in all but name, the technology would be gifted to member states.
If this spread…
Tojo Jarlath sat in silence.
Terra Surface
Classified
Early Morning
Precentor ROM, Tojo Jarlath, put down the report.
The all-night work shifts in ROM reduced the number of personnel during the morning. Perfect for him to minimize scrutiny on his personal activities. When the analysts had marked a priority 1 item in the Panacea files, he was admittingly skeptical. They had a cure for almost all human diseases, what could be just as important?
He silently removed his glasses, glad that he had decided to come in early. Gently massaging the bridge of nose did nothing to alleviate his stress.
It turns out, quite important. The Theseus Procedure. Named after an ancient terran thought experiment on the nature of time and how parts relate to a whole.
Absently, he flicked a button on his desk. No visitors. No disruptions short of Blake rising from the Earth or the end of the world. Now he could have a breakdown in peace. He ran hands through his hair, trying to straighten it.
Of the many procedures inside the Adeptus Mechanicus' Panacea files, he didn't believe he would find something like this.
The final logical conclusion when you can simply heal essentially any medical condition with a strong enough dose. It was honestly the most straightforward procedure in the database after just injecting someone with Panacea. Organ rejection rates were effectively 0%. Fully reconnecting nerves? Realigning bones? Balancing hormone production? Resettling the skin? No, they just sorted themselves out as long as the surgeon put the corresponding organs in correctly.
And if there was a failure, stasis the patient and vat grow new organs. Restart the surgery when ready.
He absently thumbed through his desk. Where were his-ah there. The white bottle rattled as he withdrew it. He took three extra strength Dura-Tylenol for his impending headache. It was over his doctor's recommended dosage. Well, not anymore, he just take a draught of Panacea and undo any liver or kidney damage.
This would change the course of history, just as much as the Panacea itself, probably even more so. Humanity had sought this prize for as long as it lived. From the first primitive civilizations to even the height of the Star League.
Eternal Youth.
And it was here. This procedure wasn't a rejuvanant treatment, fading away in a few short years. No, it was a reset of life. Your entire natural lifespan returned to you, and infinitely repeatable, with no negative consequences physically. If the subject didn't go insane from living forever, you could comfortably live past-well, everything.
The two procedures were almost barbaric. One by one, strip out every organ system except the brain. Install fresh, new, Panacea treated organs. Rebuild the patient. Keep applying Panacea. Ensure the patient was assembled correctly, enough so that the Panacea would finish the job. Apply more Panacea.
Done.
The Adeptus Mechanicus could start and finish the procedure in 20 hours. They boasted Panacea would be done in around 2 weeks. To the patient, you would go under and wake up, revitalized without any concerns.
The new, alternative version was just taking someone's brain out and putting it in a perfected, cloned body. Approximately 1.5 weeks for treatment to finish. The process was technically longer since the body had to be cloned, built or assembled before the procedure. [Not that it mattered since they just planned on stasis'ing the bodies.]
That wasn't even the beginning of it. He could read between the lines. The body was a plaything now. Just clone and mold whatever body you wanted. Be taller, be smaller. Graft an additional set of arms if you wanted to. Change your race, change your face, change your height, change your age, change your gender, change your everything. Transhumanism at its core.
Primus Teipolo would be furious if he didn't send the file today. He could delay for a few short hours, under the excuse of it being lower on his work desk or needing to reconfirm it.
But he felt it. The Adeptus Mechanicus were not lying. They used this. They did this. That explained how their men fought in such horrible conditions. This was how they survived such horrible cybernetics. Oh no. Another rush of goosebumps in realization.
In just a few days, the Primus was going to have the Chief-Fabricator personally demonstrate Panacea, just as he promised. It was a desperate time saving measure, at the cost of giving them more political leverage.
He idly considered the wider political ramifications beyond heads of state living forever. Perhaps the Adeptus Mechanicus really did believe they mankind might go extinct. That was the only logical conclusion why someone would willingly hand this out. Why worry about the future if you don't have one? Malcador admitted that if he could build a new Star League in all but name, the technology would be gifted to member states.
If this spread…
Tojo Jarlath sat in silence.