Of all the factions that now lived in his house, the space marines were the ones that Max had gotten to know the best. The bulk of them were from a little known chapter called the Conservators, guardians of a stretch of space known as the Asharn March. They were a far cry from the traditional view of an Astartes, some not even having any power armor and instead relying on plate armor and explosive bolt bows.
It could be seen as luck that the Conservators were the ones ripped from the far future as they are likely the best chapter to have been able to cope with this new situation. They were already used to operating on near minimal resources and adapted accordingly. Quite literally living out of shoeboxes, they nevertheless kept to a rigid schedule of training, prayer and scouting. A firing range was set up with playing card targets. The training rings were just double layered paper plates that shifted around whenever a man was thrown on to the ground. And a handful of shoeboxes were used as barracks, some boasting simple painted symbols of other chapters. For the time being, the Marines didn't have their own motorpool and relied on the Guard's, most of the animals the chapter used in place of light vehicles were kept with the Sister's thoroughbreds.
Their new fortress monastery was being slowly brought up, combining both Legos and reinforced layers of cardboard atop the table in the open room. It gave them an excellent line of sight over the entire floor and more importantly, the stairs. Serfs and tech priests loaded materials onto jerry rigged wenches and wheel cranes to be hoisted into the sky. Somewhere, a choir was singing their hymns and taking advantage of the excellent acoustics of the second floor. Combined with the steady industrial beats and the sound of tools at work, the ambiance provided was unrivalled.
An Eldar aircraft rose up from the floor below, its engines breaking the rhythmic background sounds, and hovered past Max. Within seconds, anti-air weapons locked on and trailed the graceful craft. A single spray of warning shots convinced it to abandon its mission, forcing the craft to execute an elegant loop before disappearing back downstairs.
"That is the fourth scout the Eldar have tried to send up. Not counting the time they tried to land raiders." Arkius watched as Max swatted away some of the lingering smoke from the AA guns, "Any ways, do you need something Sir Maximas?"
"Nothing in particular, just checking up on you guys." Max squatted down to face the Chapter Master as he stood on the table overlooking the Recroom Heights, "Any more tidbits of history you're willing to share?"
"If you are willing to convince the Eldar to cease their pitiful attempts at scouting, I could tell you about the Titan Stone."
"Why does this feel like a video game quest?"
"What is a vid-deo game?"
"Never mind, I'll try and talk to the Eldar." Max stood up and made his way down the stairs, passing a group of plate armored Scouts climbing them up and down for training.
The Eldar, deciding that the ground was too lowly for them, had settled in on the shelves and along the walls of the main hallway. With their magical wraithbone, they had created an almost floating lattice network of platforms and bridges that crossed the top of the ceiling with enough room for Max to walk under. There was something beautifully fluid in their design, in a modern art type of way. They had requested this area because of some "psychic resonance in the winds", but Max was mostly certain they picked this spot because it meant they controlled the downstairs entrance and could annoy the Imperials at will. There had already been another skirmish on the stairs that Max had to intervene in.
Still, the porcelain snowflake that the Eldar wove was dazzling. The old cream-colored Christmas lights Max had dug up made them even more beautiful as each bulb hung like a teardrop or flower under the white wraithbone, naturally mixed into the architecture itself. It reminded Max of those photos chains hung on similar lights he'd seen in his friend's dorms. For as stuck up as they were, they did know their aesthetic really well. It probably helped that they weren't as reliant on using materials that Max gave them unlike everyone else.
"Max, you wished to talk?" Farseer Ylandin appeared on a white catwalk that reached out from an empty coat hook.
"How did you-" it took Max a second to actually find Ylandin in the maze of white above his head.
"One of many abilities a Farseer possesses is telepathy. I believe you humans have a quote about unguarded minds? In your defense, I actually had to consciously think to try and discover your thoughts. Strong of will you must be."
"I feel like there's something to be said about a breach of privacy with this." Max muttered as he looked around, trying to spot an Autarch.
"Autarch Faeris is occupied with training at the moment. I can take your question."
"I have a feeling you already know what that question is."
"I do. And the Eldar have not taken any hostile actions to warrant such a brutish response from the other mon-keigh."
"I'm sure the raiding force you attempted to land on the top of the stairs last night was anything but peaceful."
"We comply to the rules that we see are just. Our goals are beyond our time to try and explain to you. While the others are concerned only with the defense of their tiny areas, we are concerned with the wellbeing of the entire structure, nay, world."
"You guys are trying to protect the entirety of earth... From within my foyer?"
"An Eldar's psychic might is greater than any other. We seek to guide this even more primitive form of mon-keigh into a hopefully less belligerent future."
"Only thing greater than your psychic might is your ego..." Max whispered under his breath.
Max couldn't actually see the face Ylandin was making, but he was certain it was somewhere between a deadpan stare and a frustrated glare. Moving away from the Eldar Pass, the Tau had built up their little settlement more or less where Max first saw them, on his dining room table. Similar to the Eldar, they managed to make do with mostly native materials, using their alien alloy to construct smooth, utilitarian buildings. They arrived with most of their colonization equipment already with them.
A metropolis was starting to build on top of the table with towers and gun platforms poking out. Max could also see what were obviously expansion plans that involved a project of hanging something under the table and a much more mundane outpost on the opposite wall against the kitchen half wall and sink counter. Drones buzzed all around like mechanical flies, while battlesuits hauled the larger loads. Max could barely tell one battlesuit apart from another to try and find Skyspirit. However, he could make out the shape of a Tau standing on a floating platform coming towards him.
"Good morning Gue'vesa'o." Aun'Phai the Ethereal waved and followed Max as he went around the kitchen island to the fridge, "Have you had a pleasant day so far?"
"It's been fine enough. As fine as having a few hundred new roommates can b- Hey! What are you doing in there!" Max opened the freezer to his fridge and saw a pair of Space Wolves huddled in the ice, attempting to eat through some frozen berries under taclight. A tense standoff between two Sons of Russ, half of their faces covered in red juice, and a man the size of a titan. Somewhere, some daemonic entity of comedic timings was laughing their ass off. For his part, Aun'Phai cheerfully waved at the space marines.
"WØT?"
"You know what. I don't even want to know. Try not to start another battle when going back up the stairs."
Closing the freezer on "Operation Bjorn Berries", Max opted for some breakfast eggs instead. Apparently, with nothing better to do, Aun'Phain watched as the Gue'la prepared some proportionally massive eggs, the hot oil sputtering up to be caught by his deflect shields.
"So what does Gue'vesa'o mean? I'm not exactly proficient in Tau. Hell, sometimes I can barely speak English." Max flipped his eggs over before retrieving a box of cereal from the cupboard.
"It is a term used for Gue'vesa commanders of the highest rank." Aun'Phai's voice was calm and soothing, reminding Max of his Chinese grandfather in a way, "We thought it fitting to bestow you the title as you are the master of this household."
The flattery didn't go beyond Max's head. Even if he could connect more with the Imperials, talking to the Tau was probably his favorite. The idealism they still held in a galaxy gone to shit might have been jarring to read, but something about them in the modern day made them more personable. As Max plated his breakfast and prepared his cereal, he watched the Tau's stronghold on his dining table come together. In some ways, it was like watching the Sisters and their cathedral. A lot of deployable home pods, propped up on little legs, were already set up and even stacked on top of each other.
"Aun'Phai." Max wolves down one of his fried eggs, "Do you guys need anything else for now?"
"While it would have been nice to have the modular bricks of the Imperials, we would be happy for any additional materials you could provide. Our own reserves run only so deep."
Max could feel the bitterness hidden behind that soft voice. One of the very first battles after the initial armistice had been between the Guard and the Tau over the valuable bricks. However, Max already had an idea. In the meanwhile, a gift of several old jars of Playdough was meant to hold the blue aliens over. They had to be rehydrated and smelled something fierce to the Tau, but they would have to make do.
Taking a look back at what the Imperials had wanted, Max began to make a complete list of everything he needed to buy. At the top of the list was food. Feeding so many people was going to be an interesting challenge. Canned food was likely the way to go for both the cost and the metal the mini people would use. He had already seen the Imperials use some sort of spigot for soup cans he gave them, flamers proving very handy in lighting "soup bonfires" to heat them. Rice was likely an easy way to feed a bunch of people. Max's rice cooker was more than enough to feed him and he imagined that even a few grains of rice would be fairly filling to people the size of his thumb. As for protein, canned fish was likely the answer. Or maybe the bagged stuff. Everyone gets a chunk from the patty, and it could be eaten without heating.
Any sort of vegetable would be trouble though as they'd all have to be cut up somehow. Maybe he could try and convince everyone to just eat grass? Fruits could be an alternative and the sight of a hundred little guys just going at a banana gave Max a giggle. Grapes could be another alternative with a group just picking one off a stem. What if he used nuts? A large jar or can of nuts could be used the same as a soup can. The more he thought about it, the more thankful he was at how little wood and carpet was actually in the house. It became obvious that foods requiring heating would become more common and given how happy some of the pyromaniacs were in the armies, alongside just the dangers of trying to cook something so big when you are so small, made Max glad to have bought a fire extinguisher before all of this.
Finishing the rest of his food and dropping the plates into the sink, Max grabbed his backpack and prepared to make a supply run. As he walked out the door, he desperately hoped there would still be a door when he came back.
A/N: Thanks for everyone whose read and favorited/followed this story! It's honestly a huge morale boost. For some clarification, the Space Marine contingent isn't just the Conservators, there's some others with them. They also aren't an OC, they were originally made by /tg/ and I love them which is why they're here. If you're curious about them, you can look them up on 1d4chan. The Sallotic regiments and the Order of the Argent Chalice are original though, might go deeper into them later.
If you are wondering about the speed of updates, its because I have things already sort of planned out. And because I'm terrible at budgeting my time for other things. Basically, don't get used to it lol.