wtr-draft Chapter 1: dawnofworm1, a x-overs fanfic

Nov 17, 2016

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This is the index page as well as a general explanations page.

Please make sure you read this or you are going to be mighty confused when Emperor turns out the way he does, or the tone of the story goes a little weird.

The story is a combination of Worm, 40k and my own story here called Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers. The gist of the story is that R.O.B. like entities have found Worm, have found it amusing and have worked with Bob, the Emperor of Mankind to give Taylor Hebert powers. Part of these powers involves linking the 40k universe that the entities (called Minds) have spent nearly 1000 years messing about in, and summoning units across.

Each unit in the Astra Militarum will have the point cost according to their codex and each will be fluff levels of powerful (screw the idea of a Sororitas having the same armour as a Space Marine, screw that and everything with the 6 numbered system). Taylor will initially have a pool to draw from like the tabletop game. The 40k universe has been very thoroughly messed about with and I will link below chapters which give a general idea of what is going on.

The general tone of the story will be one of upbeatness and utter crushing of opposition beneath the might of the Imperium. There won't be sandbagging here except for the point system for some artificial tension to keep things interesting. No need for her to summon 15 Titan Legions and go ham. Yet.

If I remember anything important, it will go in this post. Everything after this is just chapters.

Links for context:[/color]

Inquisitorial Archives: Eye of Apathy[/font]

Pillar of Penitence

Biography of a Golden Man Pt 1

Biography of a Golden Man Pt 2

Biography of a Golden Man Pt 3

Biography of a Golden Man Pt 4

Biography of a Golden Man Pt 5

Biography of a Golden Man Pt 6

Biography of a Golden Man Pt 7

Growing Giants Pt 1

Growing Giants Pt 2

Growing Giants Pt 3

Growing Giants Pt 4

Growing Giants Pt 5

Growing Giants Pt 6

Growing Giants Pt 7

Growing Giants Pt 8

Growing Giants Pt 9

They Who Peer In Pt 2

Ok now to Worm. As always, the first few chapters are a little slow, Vista is best girl, solid steel muscle abs are best.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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They came in the night, four muscled men, arms as thick as the thighs of lesser men. They did not walk like lesser men, no, they who had been born upon Catachan, had volunteered to the Imperial Guard and fought their way through Tyranids, Chaos, Tau and Orks, their blades reaping a toll upon the foolish, the blind and the weak. Experts in the art of silent death, in delivering suffering by their own hands, personal as their knives.

They who had flesh as hardy as carapace armour, feet as light as grav-chutes and hand as sure as an Adept of the Mechanicus, were on a mission of extreme importance. Their objective lay within the halls of this… Schola of some kind. A place to educate the weak and the simple minded where they would be safe from the realities of the galaxy.

Within the halls, barely large enough for them to walk through upright, the Catachan Jungle Fighters, didn't bother. Instead, they crept along, feet tapping lightly as they moved, knives ready in front of their faces, just in case.

The target was in front of them, the smell was noticeable from 15 meters down the corridor. It was not as bad as the time they had to cover themselves in Tyranid ichor to hide from the beast, but it was still unpleasant. Usually one burnt the corpses of your allies to deny them to the enemy instead of stuffing them inside lockers.

Still, the objective was within, Lascarbines locking down the hallways, one of their number punched a fist through thin metal plating before ripping the door off its hinges. Inside was a catatonic, tall and embarrassingly gangly girl. No Catachan would dare be caught in public with that amount of muscle, but she was the channel by which the Emperor communicated. A daughter of the Emperor as it were, someone to protect and guide as she matured. In time she would be able to breach reality and rejoin the Emperor.

As it was they had been sent through first to retrieve the vessel and next to retreat back to the staging area and to hide their involvement with a distraction. A few demo packs on the lockers, on the ceiling, the floor, and the walls would be enough. Still, the vessel was catatonic and deadweight as it was currently, they would need to devote a single Catachan to protecting her. Not the most ideal of situations but there was very little they could do either way.

2 of them kept a kneeling posture over the girl, the other 3 worked quickly to place down the charges for their distraction. To avoid scrutiny, they thought it would be best to lay charges throughout the entire Schola, all the small alcoves, teaching rooms, the firing range that strangely had no armouries, the mess hall and anything else that was larger than a closet. It was always funny to leave the bathrooms intact when everything else had been demolished.

Once the charges were set the child was picked up and the five of them made their way out of the building, the weight of the girl not slowing them down at all. A heavy bolter was more difficult to carry than the girl was, and if that wasn't a condemnation of her musculature, then nothing was. It was embarrassing and they would be taking steps to rectify it as soon as was possible.

When they were away from the Schola, far enough that things were safe, one of them spoke up as they continued to run. They were covered in camouflage paint, hidden from the world as the sparse lighting of the city streets allowed them to move at full speed but fully hidden. Their voices as if they were disembodied ghosts.

"Crikey, those cunts really did a number on 'er didn't they." Said Gary, or Gazza as his squadmates called him.

"Just a few scratches, a few infections it looks like, nothing to get your nadgers in a twist." Said Bazza.

"A few scratches mate? The sheilas a citizen, she ain't Catachan mate. These scratches are probably going to kill her." Said Tim, the one currently carrying her.

"A little soft ain't that? By the Emperor we better get the sheila back to base, there should be a medicae facility there." Said Fred, the flamer in his hand puffing gently.

"Well, we'll get the sheila out of here, sit her down until she ain't feelin' rotten and find out which fuckin' yobbos started this shit. Then we put down the mongrel with a nice stab through the throat then ey? There's the fuckin' cogboy, we'll get 'im to tap into the infonet and find directions. Shouldn't be too hard and if we're lucky he won't throw a wobbler." Said Black, the leader of the squad.

Right now it appeared that there was just their squad, the Mechanicus Adept that had come along as well as a few support staff, the medicae being one of them. Everything else depended on the Princess, it was through her they were getting reinforcements from what they understood.

"Timers counting down, the charges are going off in a few seconds." Gazza announced, him being the resident demolitions expert.

The five of them stopped and turned back to see. It had been about a minute since they had left and the squad had made about 200 meters away as the magpie flies. They stood there looking expectantly, there would be a few explosions, a shock wave, some dust being knocked into the air, a few collapsed structures and their involvement erased. Excluding the explosion, but it was a standard issue demo charge, it wasn't like they were going to be able to trace that.

What came next was not expected at all.

"Crikey mate, that's a corker." Said Fred, his eyes shining as he looked upon the mushroom cloud that rose into the sky. The entire Schola had been destroyed and there were fragments of it raining on their position, little pieces of wood to complement the wave of dust that used to be walls. The shockwave was enough to buckle their knees slightly, forcing them into a position to resist it. The sound produced, being enough to deafen their ears slightly, the rattling of the glass windows of the civilian vehicles a testament to its strength.

"How many did you set?" Asked Black, shaking his head slightly to get the ringing out.

"15." Said Gazza.

"Did you take into account the fact that they don't use Plasteel and Ceramite here you fuckin' oaf?!" Shouted Bazza, his free hand waving about.

"How was I supposed to know their fuckin' buildings blow over in a stiff breeze?" He retorted.

"Enough! Keep moving, we don't want to be here when the local law enforcement arrive." Black interjected, his head aching. It was meant to be a distraction, destroying the evidence, small. On a properly constructed Schola, it would have at most cracked a few walls, shattered the interior and most of all, destruction on a scale that wouldn't be noticed until significantly later. Now, however? Things were going to be very busy and the Princess would be well advised to keep her head down, this world was not an Imperial Compliant one.

They had the numbers and military supremacy for the moment, best to keep things on the hush-hush for now and avoid attracting attention or provoking them. Mutants were running rampant and they couldn't kill all of them, best to avoid them for the time being. The briefing that had been given noted how some of these beings were basically psykers but without the backlash of being one. Understandably some abused their powers to lord it over the weak, primary targets when the Princess established her power base.

A purging of the highest order was in order, they would bring back order and it would be pretty swell.

The squad began to run again, making their way back to the staging point. This time making a point to stay in the shadows and away from the main transport arteries, if this was anything near a civilized world, there would be response teams en-route to the Schola as they spoke. Best to avoid them for the time being as to avoid the potential questioning of the local Inquisition analogue.

They would be able to kill their way out, that was quite certain. The Princess, however, would very likely want to do it personally and pissing off your superior officer was never a good idea, especially if that officer was the Emperor's daughter. No, it was better to allow her to take the glory and kill credit for herself. Black didn't get his dagger tattoo by being an idiot.

They made their way to the staging point, a two story little civilian residence. The door was barely large enough for the Catachans to squeeze through, something they would have to rectify with haste. Once inside the Catachans laid the Princess down along the table that had been prepared, the Medicae receiving their vox-cast and readied herself to assist.

Once on the table, the Princess was stripped and the Medicae went to work. Her hands moving swiftly as she cleaned the Princess down with a swab, the Servitor by her side handing utensils and materials as she worked. Efficient, the Catachans approved.

From behind the door opened and the one known as Daniel emerged, the biological father to the Princess on this world. His worry for his daughter had done him credit, his composure in the face of 5 Catachans querying him regarding the Princess was impressive. Many a lesser man had fallen apart in the face of a Catachan interrogation, their blades and their stature being an asset and a drawback when trying to initiate friendly conversation.

As of right now, the man was speaking very passable and excited Low Gothic, this world somehow having contact with the Imperium despite their lack of Astronomicon connection. Black wasn't too sure as to why but it didn't really matter, it wasn't like he could stab the Warp.

"What's happened to Taylor?!" The Princess was called Taylor apparently, why she was named after a profession regarding the working of clothing, Black was not sure. Still, he had a responsibility to the man, he had raised her for 15 years, half of which had been without her mother. An impressive feat given the man's status as a gang leader. This Union was certainly a heretical organisation prepared to unite the workers to overthrow the established government, but was it heretical if it was run by the father of the Princess? Questions to ponder certainly.

"She is currently undergoing medical attention from the Medicae, her condition is not quite critical but enough to warrant medical attention." Replied Black after some deliberation. He modified his language as to not frighten the man, what he, a Catachan considered to be acceptable language was very much not what the galaxy considered to be acceptable language, Orks didn't count. It had been beaten into his head often enough and he usually remembered. Usually. Today counted, which was a good thing.

"What?! Why?" He said the man was certainly loud.

"The Princess was found inside a metal locker, her body covered in blood. Upon closer inspection, we found that she did not have any life-threatening injuries and removed her from the locker. From there we planted demolition charges within the schola building to hide our involvement and exfiltrated the area. We brought back the Princess to this location for medical treatment."

Black said, exhausted. As a Catachan he didn't care about authority as it were, prepared to ignore a Commissar if the man was an idiot but this was also the father of the Princess. It was effort to polish up his speech but certainly worth it if the comprehension on the man's face was any indication.

Daniel Hebert was clearly working through the information, analysing it and working through it in his mind. Black was impressed, the man was a thinker, not like the Catachans who were generally doers.

"You planted explosives in a school?" He asked, tension in his voice.

"Of course. How else would we hide our involvement?" Black replied, confused.

Spoiler: AN[/font]

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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My head hurt. My body hurt. My everything hurt.

It was confusing at first then I remembered the locker. Winslow. Madison. Sophia. Emma.

They had… they had placed me inside the locker… no, they had locked me inside the locker.

I cried and screamed and tried to get them to let me out. But they didn't. They laughed and left me inside.

Why? What did I do to deserve it?

What did I…

"There now dearie, things are better now." Who?

I opened my eyes and there was a woman in front of me. I don't know who she was but she was wearing a white coat, like a doctor. Only she had this piece on her eye, a red eyepiece but it looked like it was attached to her head. Is this some kind of dress up I didn't know about? Why am I in my room? Why am I covered in… bandages? It wasn't a dream? It actually happened?

What happened? Why am I like this? Did they pull me out of the locker? Why are they in my house?

So many questions.

"You must have quite a few questions love, why don't you ask them now?" She said again. Her voice was so… nice. It really made me want to curl up and listen to her talk. Like what a nurse should sound like.

"What happened to me?" I asked. I didn't want to hear the answer but I had to know.

She gave me a hug, a nice warm hug. She had a shelf that I could put my head on too and I just sat there and experienced it. I wanted to just stay there forever. Then she started talking and it was a little annoying, I wanted to stay like this a little longer.

"Well dearie, I don't know what happened but they found you inside a locker, you were covered in blood. They pulled you out and here you are!"

That was… much less informative than I expected it to be. Someone or someones found me in a locker, took me home instead of to a hospital and now I'm here, bandaged so somebody had to have medical skills, probably the woman hugging me. And dad isn't here doing… something so they must have been able to convince him to let a strange into my room.

Wait… Dad!

"What about my dad!" I shout. Please, please, please don't let them have hurt him. What if I'm a hostage, a victim of a nefarious plot to take teenage girls and… wait. No. Taylor that's stupid. Back to reality Taylor.

"He's doing fine, just a bit annoyed but he's fine, in fact, he's probably outside right now waiting for me to let him in. Do you want me to?" She says, her face looking really concerned. It's been so long that someone has been concerned for me. So long.

I didn't even realise that I was crying until she used a cloth to wipe at my face.

"I'm sorry," I say, or rather I sob.

"It's ok dearie, just let it out. Do it here while you still can, those boyos out there don't understand us, normal people."

I don't understand what she's saying but I just take the chance to cry. It's nice to have someone that can hold me, dad hasn't been around enough to notice if I've been crying lately. He's been gone since mom was gone. It wasn't so bad when I had Emma but then she turned and… I haven't had someone to hold me since then.

It takes a while but I finally cry myself out, she doesn't let go the whole time. Huh, I don't know her name, do I?

"What's your name?" I ask, I should have asked sooner, always with the me, me me. Stupid Taylor.

"I'm Maxine dearie, it's nice of you to ask. Now, why don't you just lie there and I'll let in the boyos, they can probably explain everything."

So… lots of shouting. Explanations, shouting, more explanations, and more shouting.

Dad now knows about the bullying, the big guys that aren't wearing shirts… and have abs I can probably cut steak on… mmmm… no. Bad Taylor.

Anyway, those big guys have just been standing there and staring at me for a while now. They looked a little pissed when I was talking about Emma and Sophia but other than that, they've been looking rather… passive.

Then again they are so big that their passive is everyone else's intimidating. I don't even know why they are here in the first place. Dad hasn't explained anything really and I don't think he even knows anything. Which means I need to ask them.

It's getting a little crowded in the room actually, 5 of them standing around my bed, then dad on the bed and Maxine is still standing there in the background looking at me. It's a little weird honestly and I'm feeling just a little bit of pressure here.

"Ummmm. So why are you here?" I ask, feeling a little brave. Since they saved me, they wouldn't want to kill me right?

"It would be best if you directed your questions to this Servo Skull here. Its cerebral cogitators have been enhanced to meet the questions it will need to answer." Said the biggest one. Which was impressive since his head is touching the ceiling of my room.

"We will leave you with the Servo Skull so that you may be at ease while you ask your questions." He said before jerking his head at the other ones in the room and filing out. Dad goes too, I think he's just following the flow. Maxine left as well, she did give my back a rub, though, she really does have a great bedside manner.

What he left behind, though… is a skull. Not just any skull, this one has fake eyes and is floating in the air. I don't… I don't even. What is going on? Why the skull? Why is it floating, why does it have fake eyes? Why a skull? What the heck?

It's got these red eye lenses things, there's a long pipe coming out where the spine is meant to be and there's carvings all over it. It just floats and bobs there, doing little twirls and… staring? It doesn't have eyelids so I can't tell but it looks like it wants to say something. No Taylor, it's a floating skull without any skin or muscle, how can it want to say something?

Dammit.

"So… what's up?" I say. Don't judge me, it's a floating skull, what am I supposed to say to it? They're lucky I'm not freaking out over the fact that it's a fucking skull. Why am I Not freaking out over the fact it's a floating skull? Like that looks like actual bone, not plastic, actual bone, it's got that yellow kind of colour to it and the cream. Ugh, icky.

Anyway, it doesn't do anything, just keeps floating right in front of me. Just bobbing up and down like this skull yoyo. Ugh, what am I supposed to do with it?

It just looks back at me.

I just look back at it.

We stare each other down. I lose.

I try to touch it and it actually comes closer so I don't need to lean out too far. Yay, conscientious floating skull. Better than anyone else in my life in the last year… except for Maxine.

When I do touch it, though, things get weird. Like seriously weird, like what is going on weird. I am definitely not admitting that I squealed like a little girl when it shot up to hover above me. I definitely did not squeak when a hologram appeared in front of me, a man with long hair… what?

Is this some kind of prank? If so I'm not falling for it… whatever it is.

"If you are seeing this then you have received a shard of my soul, that of the Emperor of Mankind, and it has fused with your own. Due to my limitations at this moment in time, I cannot fully assist you as befits my daughter but I can use my powers to send you assistance, in the form of the mighty regiments of the Imperial Guard. I cannot send across my Space Marines as of yet, the portal is not stable enough but the Imperial Guard are perfectly capable. They will protect you daughter of mine, until you become powerful enough to use your powers and join me.

"There appear to be some elements on your world that would serve as tests of your personal ability. When you have defeated them, you have proven yourself strong enough to bridge the step yourself and join me."

What? I have a new father? I have part of his soul grafted onto mine? I can use my powers to travel? What?

Wait… does that mean I triggered in the locker? Does that mean when I triggered I created constructs to explain everything away? Is everything a construct? Am I hallucinating? Is Maxine just me trying to get another mother?

What is going on?

"Good morning Taylor Swift! I am Servo Skull #8998 of the Imperial Palace on Terra! Here to provide you with information and assist you in acclimating to your new responsibilities as Princess of the Imperium!"

What.

"What?"

"I am Servo Skull #8998, ready to serve with information and advice as imparted by Captain-General Constantine of the Legios Custodes!"

Who is Taylor Swift? Who are the Legios Custodes? What is going on?

"I'm not Taylor Swift, I'm Taylor Hebert," I say, maybe this is all a big mistake?

"Correction logged. Taylor Hebert, I am Servo Skull #8998, ready to serve!" It sounded so… cheerful. Like really peppy and happy and I can't tell what gender it is. Do skulls have genders? Why do I even care?

I'll just go with the flow. It's already insane enough, I'll just go with it and see what happens. It can't be too insane… can it? The long haired guy wants me to kill the Endbringers or something? He's also an Emperor or something? Do we even still have those?

I don't even know anymore.

"So… where do we start?" I ask. Maybe there's a tutorial or something? You can't just dump me in the deep end and expect things to go well, that never works out properly.

"From the Beginning!" It said. Spinning in place. The metal pipe thing out the back of its head swirling around and the center of gravity is going to shift aaaaand there it goes. The Skull spins out and nearly hits the wall.

"Taylor Hebert! At your command are the Regiments of the Imperial Guard with which for you to do with as you wish! Destroy the World! Save the World! Rule the World! Be the World! Eat the World! All of it is at your command!" It shouted. The hologram was up again and there were lines and lines of soldiers at attention. There were millions of them… what am I supposed to do with millions of men? I don't even know what I'm supposed to do with one!

Well, I know what I'm supposed to do with one. But more than one? Too much. It's too much. What is even going on anymore?

"To begin with! I shall play you a tutorial video!"

[/color]

And I could hear a voice…

"You, Taylor Swift are the scion of the God Emperor of Mankind. In order to protect you, the Regiments of the Astra Militarum have been dispatched to assist you as you grow into your awesome power. This Servo Skull will provide you the information you require and also be the interface you will use to interact with the resources at your command until you are capable enough to do it on your own. To begin with, we shall start from the very beginning.

"You are able to requisition resources from the Imperium which shall be delivered through the portal connecting the Imperium and your own Universe. These resources include men, weapon, armour, power, ammunition and more. Anything and everything to allow a Regiment of the Astra Militarum to run at maximum efficiency has been placed at your disposal.

"We shall begin with the most basic unit."

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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"We shall begin with the most basic unit." The voice said, emphasising the word "basic".

"The Imperial Guard Infantry Squad for 50 points. The most basic unit available to you, it will always be in possession of 9 Guardsmen and their Sergeant. Standard equipment issued are their Lasguns, Flak Armour, Frag Grenades, Uplifting Primer, Close Combat Weapons and Laspistols for the Sergeant only.

This squad and its 10 men are available for you to direct as you see fit. However, your lack of experience is a detriment in this case and a Platoon Command Squad has been made available for you to purchase. Please, tap the indicated icon to switch to the Infantry Platoon Command Squad." A little arrow on the top right began to glow gold. I press it, and the Hologram changed from 10 guys with armour and guns to 5 guys.

"Included is the Infantry Platoon Commander and 4 Infantry Guardsmen. It is recommended that you purchase an Infantry Platoon Squad as soon as possible in order to better manage your Squads. Please do so now."

There was a blinking light in the corner of the hologram. A sort of little button that said "30 Points". I pressed it and it asked "are you sure". Well of course, I'm sure, what else am I supposed to do? So I pressed "sure" and what came up next was a "processing" icon and it even had a little Servo Skull dragging a loading bar. It was kind of cute.

The little skull went away and the 5 guys are just still standing there. Only the voice started talking again.

"What type of Infantry Platoon Command Squad you choose will have important consequences to the actual manner in which your squads will develop. There are many Regiments throughout the Imperium and whoever is in charge of your Regiments, as well as the makeup of the regiments themselves will have a large impact on the culture of your armies. Press the indicated arrow to change between Regiments. Remember, you may have multiple Command Squads for different levels of Command and for different roles. You are not locked into a single type of warfare and may switch in and out as you choose. You will have 1 Catachan Special Infantry Squad, this is not to be confused with the Catachan Infantry Platoon Squad. Likewise, the Medicae and the Engiseer are not to be confused with HQ elements. Please keep this in mind as you select your first Platoon Command Squad."

Huh. So I can pick the guys in charge of the guys I will pick after? It sort of makes sense? Whoever made this tutorial really sucked, though. So first I pick the Platoon Command Squad, then I will pick the Squads under them? Hmmm. Not so bad I guess.

I press the arrow and it takes me to a screen where the different… Regiments? I guess? Are laid out. Big squares on a grid pattern with a different portrait on each one. They all look really scary. There's a little popup box that comes out "tap the Regiment to see an overview." That's really helpful.

So I go through the squares, starting with the guys that look like they're wearing gas masks. Each one has a little text box under the portrait when I bring it up, all in English which is weird.

[/color]

"Death Korps of Krieg: The premier siege unit specialists in the Astra Militarum. Their dogged determination and desire to accomplish their mission no matter the cost is matched only by their numbers and artillery. The Death Korps of Krieg are excellent defenders, tunnellers and wall breakers." He said, a short video running showing them digging a massive trench network, underground bunkers, massive machines tunneling under huuuuge walls and putting out the gas masked, trench coat guys popping out the other side. Woooah. That was kind of cool… even if I'm a girl.

Next are the guys that look like the ones in my room before. Big… buff… half naked guys. Mmmmmm.

"The Catachan Jungle Fighters: Born upon the Death World of Catachan where every single living organism will attempt to kill or maim all and where humanity is on the bottom of the food chain, the Catachan Jungle Fighter is the Imperium's scouting, hunting and infiltration experts. Due to the extreme gravity upon their world, each Catachan has skin and muscle as resilient as Carapace armour."

And there's one of them wrestling a scorpion the size of a bus. What the fuck? Then there's one of them whose painted all over who's crawling with a knife in his teeth. Then he stabs a man and drags him under the mud… ok. That… ok. I'll be looking at the ones in my house a little differently that's for sure.

And I just went through them all.

The Mordian Iron Guard are all really strict.

The Praetorian Guard look like Poachers.

The Elysian Drop Troopers, Phantine Skyborne and the Harakoni Warhawks look like… really gungho daredevils.

Drookian Fen Guard are way too hung up on the clan thing.

Savlar Chem Dogs are basically Merchants but even scarier.

Valhallan Ice Warriors are all World War 2 Russians which is kind of scary… they do the whole human wave tactics thing.

Vostroyan First Born are all posh and annoying.

The Cadian Shock Troops are really professional and intense.

Hmm what to choose?

I think about it. Like a lot. I'm avoiding the Fen Guard and the Merchant - likes and well… most of them. I should keep my head down, after all, bunch of guys with laser guns and massive kill counts in Brockton? That's straight to the Birdcage. Nope, I'm just going to sit here, pick the most non-intrusive ones and just wait. It did say I was getting powers and they would grow, best to just pick the option that lets me wait in peace.

So I pressed the Death Korps of Krieg. They will just build tunnels and stuff, let me just sit still and maybe not have to deal with everything. Yes. Wait.

Winslow… I have to go back there. And if these are my personal soldiers… doesn't that mean they are going to start shooting people on my behalf?

Oh no. I. Oh no. Bad Taylor. You should have thought it through, they're going to go and start shooting the school. I think about Sophia being shot by one of those Lasguns and take a moment to appreciate the thought before I shake myself out of it. Bad Taylor, you can't just go and blow people up just because you don't like them. Bad.

But it would be soooo satisfying.

No. Bad Taylor.

Huh. Where are they?

The hologram was 'loading', maybe it wasn't time for them to appear or they were going through the portal?

I don't know. I don't even know what my powers are. They're meant to protect me or something, not actually part of my power. Very weird.

Then again I am Taylor Hebert, the girl who is apparently the daughter of the "God Emperor" guy. How much weirder can I get? This might just all be a giant scam but who would be doing that? Uber and Leet don't do individual videos, there aren't any Thinkers or Brutes or anyone like that around doing this kind of thing are there?

It's very strange and kind of worrying but I might as well go with it. It's not like they can be worse than Emma.

A loud "Ping" sounded off, the hologram had a "Completed" sign on it.

"Good, you have purchased a Death Korps of Krieg, Infantry Platoon Command Squad. Please open the map." Another icon on the screen began to blink away. I press it and it brings up a map of… my house. It even has those little level indicators for which floor I want them to come in. There's even this little outline that shows where they will appear when I press the start.

It even shows where everyone in the house is. There's… Bazza… really? That's his name? Private Bazza, Private Gazza, Private Tim, Corporal Fred, and Sergeant Black. All from the 89th Catachan "Butter Crows" Regiment. Then there is Adept Hurosius of the Adeptus Mechanicus and Curia Advance Maxine of the Adeptus Sororitas, Orders Hospitaller, Orders Famulous, Order of the Joyous Harmony, that's a lot of orders. Then there's dad. Huh, he's here as well? I can't see his information, just his name though.

Still, I have to get to putting this Command Squad somewhere. Ummm… how about the room? Then I can ask them what's going on without needing to get up. I don't think Maxine would let me leave the bed in the first place.

I press the room as the target and there's a big blinding light before 5 men all the same height come out. Dark grey clothes, big overcoats, gas masks, one of them has a big speaker or something on his shoulder, one of them has a sword at his waist and the other 3 have just lasguns. They salute, I try to salute with my bandaged arms.

It's ok? They drop the salute then just stand there waiting. Ummm…

"Now that you have placed a Platoon Command Squad, why don't you choose and place some infantry squads for them to be in charge of?" Said the Servo Skull, the hologram lighting up again.

No flashing symbols this time… hmmm. It's expecting me to have remembered how to do it the first time. Luckily I'm good at remembering things!

Lessee… Press this one, press that one, then swipe! Ha! I'm a genius.

Well, let's just go with the basic ones first. Hmmm… Infantry Squad for 50 points. Let's just choose 1 for now, don't exactly have a lot of space here for them. Ok, picked, then let's make them Death Korps of Krieg as well, and then place them in the basement, no room up here. Yes. Good.

"Well done. The tutorial that this Servo Skull can give you is now complete. It is important you read through and remember exactly what you can call in and the costs to do so. The Imperium of Man is a vast place and its Regiments just as much so. Each brings with it advantages and disadvantages, it would do you well to know each.

"When you are judged ready, this Servo Skull will move onto the next part of the tutorial. For now, you can access your available balance by interacting with this Servo Skull and saying the words 'Activate Workshop'. You may check your balance with the indicator on the top left of the hologram. Good luck Princess."

Huh, there's more? I look up and there's a 215/750 box, I've spent 215 points? I have the Catachans at… 85 points. Maxine at 50 points. A Platoon Command Squad at 30 points and an Infantry Squad at 50 points.

Speaking of Platoon Command Squads… the one that was summoned are still here.

Huh.

I was about to say something when the door knocked. Or someone knocked on the door. I must be more tired than I thought if that was something that I thought. Thought.

"Come in!" I shout. Or try. My through is still ragged from yesterday. Fucking Sophia and Emma.

One of the Catachans comes in and… I can see his name over his head. What.

"Sergeant Black!" I say, trying to sound like I know what I'm doing. He's poking his chest in but he's not actually coming in. Maybe there isn't enough space.

"Princess! It's good to see you up and about sheila, mighty worried you had your dad worried there. 'She'll be right' I said, there's no Catachan Devils or Eyerot around the place to kill you slowly I said. Still, the lads have got a hard 'on to have a little chat to the yobbos that put you in the locker, a real 'cracker' of a conversation if you get my drift."

I don't understand any of that. Catachan Devils, Eyerot, yobbo, cracker? What is he even talking about?

"Anyway sheila, saw the squad of Kriegers you got in the basement, just came up to give some helpful advice. You've gotta give 'em permission to speak or they'll just stand there like them servitors all day."

Ooooh. That makes so much sense.

"Anyways Imma head back down, give them yobbos a bit of an earbashing, keep 'em from doing anything stupid."

Wait. I have an idea. It might not be a good one but it's an idea!

"Umm Sergeant Black?" I say, trying not to make it sound like a question.

"What's on your mind girlie?" He says, re-opening the door.

"You guys are the best recon specialists right?" I ask.

He looks a little surprised at the question. Then he grins at me.

"Aya girly, them drongos might be right bastards but they're the best in the business. What's on your mind?"

"Well, do you mind "reconning" the city? Get a lay of the land as they say in military speak?" That military speak from the movies should work right?

He looks a little taken aback before he starts grinning at me. "Aye Princess, we don't mind at all. It'll be a corker! I'll round up the boys and get out of your hair right smart!"

Again, I didn't understand any of that but at least he's happy.

I turn to the 'Kriegers' and rack my head for the right words. Ummmm… "permission to speak freely granted" I say.

I hope that's the right words.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

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The 'Kriegers' look at me before nodding. One of them opens their mouth (metaphorically, there's a gas mask and I don't have X-Ray vision… yet), and says "Greetings Princess. We are the 1948th Siege Regiment. What would you have us do?"

What do I want them to do? Keep our heads down is a given. Make the house more defensible? I'm feeling tired, really tired. I'll just have them keep a low profile for now, I'll give them better ordered tomorrow. Yes. That's a good idea.

Smart Taylor.

Yes. Smart. So tired. It must have been hours I've been up.

"Keep your heads down, reinforce this position and ummm. Servo Skull? Can I give points to someone else to use?" I ask the Servo Skull.

"Yes Taylor Hebert, you can delegate the requisitioning of troops to those under your command! They will still be under your command, however, so don't be afraid to order them around too! Just say the name of the individual you wish to delegate points to and the number of points and conditions of the delegation if there are any."

Well, that's nice.

"Thanks Servo Skull." I say to it. I turn to the Kriegers and say "I delegate to Lieutenant 93#8219, 200 points to use in accomplishing his objective. You objective 98#8219 is to fortify this building but in a way that is not noticeable from the outside. Keep a low profile and avoid attracting attention." Heh. There we go. Maybe 200 points is a bit much but better use them up. I guess. I think?

I just want to sleep.

"Dismissed Lieutenant 93#8219."

I lie back down and it's off to dreamland. Mmmmm.

Servo Skull #8998 was a special Servo Skull. It was one that had limited cognitive abilities as given to it by the Techpriests of Mars. It's cerebral cavity still contained part of its brain, the Cerebral Cogitator using it to run the more complex calculations from.

Right now the Servo Skull was monitoring the Princess of Mankind's physical status, the small implant on her arm allowing the #8998 access to her vital signs. Also linked was Sister Maxine's own interface, her being able to monitor and treat the Princess if necessary. It being the reason she was there when the Princess woke up in the first place really.

With the Princess asleep again Servo Skull #8998 was moving around the house, looking about, cataloguing all of it as part of directive #90 [Record Everything Regarding the Princess' Everyday Life for Future Reference]. The Servo Skull was drifting downstairs when it was attracted to the noise, the human designated as Black and human designated as Maxine was conversing with priority individual Daniel Hebert.

"So what you are saying, is that your squad are currently inside the city, armed with knives and rifles and explosives?" Said human designated Daniel Hebert. Volume controls to be adjusted to make up for sudden increase.

"Aye mate, it'll be fine. The lads know how to handle themselves." Said human designated Black.

"If by handling you mean destroying the entire school." Said Daniel Hebert.

"Aye, a tad of a miscalculation that was, corker of a show, though." Said Black.

"I believe the issue that Mr Hebert wishes to bring up is that your Catachans, do not quite have the subtlety needed to reconnaissance a city without destroying half of it. You are after all a front-line infantry unit, not a civil defence unit." Said human designated Maxine.

"Aye sheila, we aren't the top-end for civilian ops but that doesn't mean we're complete tits on a bull at it. Better than the bog standard at any rate. Besides, the Princess gave the order and we obey." Said Black.

"She gave a suggestion, not an order. You may be guilty of using your own interpretation of her orders Sergeant Black." Said Maxine.

"Ah, sheila, don't be knockin now. The boyos would've gone up the walls by the end of the day, best they go out now then patch them up later when there's body parts missing." Said Black.

"Yes. I've dealt with your kind before Catachan. I know of your quirks, merely a suggestion in case the Princess wakes up and finds the city on fire." Said Maxine.

"Fuckin' oath mate, besides the boys were itchin. These "girls" who've been fuckin' with the Princess, well they're gonna learn a lesson. She's got friends now, lots of very fuckin' powerful friends and they would like a fuckin' word. You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us, and they've gone and fucked with the God Emperor's daughter. The boyos are out for blood, and they've never lost prey." Said Black.

"They're going to kill them." Said Daniel.

"Aye mate, the Imperium never forgets. Catachan never forgets. Those girls want to play at being powerful, they're gonna learn what happens to ratbags where we come from." Said Black.

"It is pointless to try and stop them Mr Hebert, they are Catachans, renowned across the Imperium for their ability to hunt prey, humanoid or animal. The girls for their part in attacks upon the Princess will die. There is not much that can be done about it at this point, they have already left." Said Maxine.

The human designated Daniel Hebert gave an expulsion of air before leaning backwards. Arms crossed upon the chest. There is silence and the Servo Skull is not sure if this is time to explore the house further.

Until Daniel Hebert once again spoke.

"So what do happens from here?" Said Daniel Hebert.

"Well, the Princess requisitioned the Death Korps of Krieg, a squad and a Platoon Command Squad of them. Which means the Princess is planning on fortifying up, securing the house and working from there." Said Maxine.

"What do you mean by fortify." Said Daniel Hebert.

"The Death Korps of Krieg are the Imperium's foremost human experts in Siege Warfare. That means they are unparalleled outside of the Adeptus Astartes in regards to fortifying positions as well as breaking through positions that have been fortified. Since they are fortifying this residence then that means they will be digging tunnels, trenches and setting up emplacements and preparing underground quarters in the event of an attack. There's only a single squad and a command squad currently so they won't be able to do much." Said Maxine.

Servo Skull #8998 felt its attention being drawn away as a human identified as a Death Korps of Krieg Guardsman came up the stairs leading into what was known as the basement. In the human's hands was held what as identified as Mars Pattern Heavy Bolter. A second came up carrying the tripod to mount the Bolter as well as the ammunition boxes that supplied it.

The Heavy Bolter was set up in the room with the primitive pict-caster in the center. The primitive camouflage netting was reinforced to better hide the Heavy Bolter if necessary, it being in a "dormant" position, the tripod bending so as to lower its height to better hide it.

"Whats going on" Said Daniel Hebert.

"We are fortifying this position as per orders from the Princess." Said the Death Korps of Krieg Guardsman. Lack of defining characteristics denied the #8998 a chance to define the female more definitively.

"It appears that the Princess has given the Lieutenant delegation powers and given the good Lieutenant points to spend." Said Maxine.

"What does that have to do with anything." Said Daniel.

"What the shiela means mate, is that those Kriegers love them some fortifications. Which means heavy weapons every few meters to catch out the mugs blind enough to give them a what for. I'm betting you my knife that down there in your basement mate, them Kriegers are digging you a ripper of an underground network. When them Kriegers are done, you could bust out a naughty at full volume and nobody's gonna notice mate." Said Black.

"I just… I. I don't know what's going on anymore. What is this God Emperor and why does he think Taylor is his child?" Said Daniel.

"What I'm about to tell you is classified knowledge Mr Hebert. Not a word of this leaves this house. All of us who are here have been vetted by the Emperor himself, your trustworthiness on the other hand, is only reliant on your position as the biological father of the Princess. Do I have your assent that none of this will leave this house." Said Maxine.

"You have my word." Said Daniel.

"Good, to be sure, understand that should you break your word, we will break this world itself to ensure the continued secrecy of the information. The Imperium can and has done so before, and we can and are very willing to do so again. The lives of those on this world are reliant upon your honouring of your vows Mr Hebert, do you understand." Said Maxine.

"Yes, I understand." Said Daniel. His body was displaying the human signs of anxiety and stress, a transmission was sent to Maxine to tend to the human. Priority is given to the health of the Princess and those related to her biologically. An affirmative was received from Hospitaller Maxine.

"Good, we will start as we always do, from the beginning. When the Emperor fell in mortal combat against his son, the Arch-Traitor Horus, his soul was shattered into countless shards. Through painstaking and constant vigil by his son, the Primarch Magnus, the shards were collected and brought back to the main body. It is a process that has gone on for over thousands of years and it will continue on for many more. In doing so, it grants the Emperor lucidity in momentary bursts which allow for Him to commune with us directly, through Magnus. This is common knowledge, what is next however is not.

"The Emperor called upon us, the Adeptus Sororitas, the Astra Militarum and the Adeptus Mechanicus when a new discovery was made. A shard of the Emperor's soul had apparently found a permanent host and grafted itself directly to the person's soul, a process that would change them over time until they were of the same stature as the Emperor if they grew old enough. It had not happened as of yet but the shard had communicated its intention to the rest of the shards, that it had found a "worthy and pure" human and was planning on melding with the human when the time was right.

"We were called, in order to breach the fabric of reality and make our way to the human that had been chosen. The Emperor however. was still weak and could not allow for those such as the Adeptus Astartes to make the journey, their souls apparently requiring much more effort to bring across. It was only us, normal humans could be sent, for now at least.

"Unfortunately, the human, your daughter underwent a situation where there was a high possibility that either she would die or her consciousness become so polluted that the shard would reject her, and she would die regardless. The shard quickly bound itself to her and thus provided a link by which Magnus was able to bridge and send us across. The plan was as such initiated before it was ready in order that your daughter could be saved. We were sent through with minimal numbers, as much as the Emperor could without overextending himself.

"Your daughter. however, will continue to become more powerful and can take up the rest of the burden from the Emperor and over time, more of us will be able to come across to assist. As it is now, the number of us that can actually come across is dismally small and it would be best if we were to keep a low profile." Said Maxine.

"So you're telling me that my daughter has part of the soul of your Emperor grafted onto her own and she is somehow going to get more powerful over time. That you come from another dimension where humanity is united. I don't know which one is more crazy." Said Daniel.

The human designated Maxine made a strange repetitive noise, a sort of expelling of the air. It has been logged as "human sounds" for later reference.

"Yes Mr Hebert, it is rather fantastical, yet it is the truth. We exist to protect your daughter for she is the closest that many of us will ever come to touch an immature god. She will grow and she will become powerful and she will be the salvation of this world. We are merely her caretakers, and we will watch over her to ensure that she grows up safe. There will be none that can hurt her for the might of the Imperium is by her side Mr Hebert. You may rest safely in that knowledge."

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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Brockton Bay, the city, in the country of the United States of America, woke up to the sound of an explosion so loud that it propagated throughout the entire city, shattering windows for kilometers around it while debris landed in the bay, across the city entirely. The entire school of Winslow simply vanished in the explosion. There was nothing left that was larger than palm sized, large sections of it reduced to dust.

Emergency services had been called and the PRT sent out their own response forces. The possibility that it was a cape crime was high, the possibility that it may have been a trigger event sending the PRT into an almost frenzied rush as their own capes were mobilized and dispatched.

Someone with that much power would need to be contained. At the same time the possibility that it was a targeted attack didn't hold much weight, who would level that much firepower at a public school when there were infinitely more attractive targets further into the city. Still, they had to treat this seriously and so the police and the PRT were heading into this with everything they had and the National Guard had been alerted in case it was an international attack.

The approach was a slow one, they had to disembark a kilometer from ground zero and make their way on foot. Armsmaster took the lead, his EOD halberd held before him as he led the small team of heroes down the road. It wasn't recognizable as one if they were being honest, the debris covered all of it in a fine dusting of concrete and wood chips. Further still were what appeared to be the remains of desks and chairs, their twisted forms indicating the extreme forces they were subjugated to.

The heroes made their way through the twisted landscape, their eyes open for a potential sympathetic strike as they did so. It wouldn't do to have the city's heroes wiped out by a sympathetic explosion. Miss Militia, Armsmaster, and Aegis made up the initial team. Others were held in reserve in case the initial team needed assistance while in the sky, their fliers protected those below.

So far there had been nothing and as they journeyed further in, there was still nothing. There was the possibility that it was a trigger event or something similar, but they needed to be sure.

"I'm picking up a residue… not matching anything on the databases." Said Armsmaster, voice terse as the tension mounted. He was sweeping his halberd in an arc directly in front of him like an engineer would sweep a minefield. Hand clenched around the shaft, the other being held close to his chest. A few things that might serve as a last ditch life saving method in his chest rig.

"Is it tinker-tech?" Asked Ms Militia. Hand twitching over the constantly shifting bundle of green that was her power. One moment it was a pistol, the next a grenade launcher, constantly cycling just in case.

"The composition isn't anything we've seen before but it is made from mundane materials. There is the possibility that it's a new type of explosive but we should know what that is, Dragon has all the data and we're coming up clean." Replied Armsmaster, frustration evident.

When they did finally make it into Winslow, or rather what was left of it, they found 15 craters that were evidently where the explosives had been placed. The idea that it was a trigger event being much less likely. It looked far too professional to be that.

Ultimately they were forced to return, Armsmaster and Dragon discussing the possible sources of the explosives, an issue considering its unknown nature, while the others cordoned off the area and allowed the police to take charge. There was nothing they could link to a parahuman, explosion notwithstanding.

Still, there was something that had decided to call up on Brockton Bay, and it had done so in a decidedly unfriendly manner. The PRT and the police would be keeping an eye out in case it decided to knock twice.

Underneath Brockton Bay, things were changing rather rapidly. The Princess was still asleep and there were 45 Death Korps of Krieg infantry given the broad mandate of reinforcing an area and keeping a low profile.

It had been slower than they were used to, but it was certainly fast enough to satisfy the Lieutenant. They had begun at the basement and simply dug straight down from there. The Ceramite and Ferrocrete walls with Plasteel reinforcing giving their tunnels and underground chambers a strength that was quite independent of the weaker earth surrounding it. The network itself dug downward, nearly 50 meters deep and twice that wide. As it was currently, their amenities were very lacking, the creature comforts such as beds being one of them.

They would make do with cots and the bare minimum for now, but given more time it would be just as well fortified as any fortress on Krieg or Vraks. It would require an Emperor Class Titan to dig them out if the Kriegers had any say in the matter.

[/color]

The Engiseer Hurosius of the Adeptus Mechanicus assisted, building plasma generators and defence turrets inside the complex as necessary. Blast doors, elevators and a proper self-destruct system tied to the power system was next. It was taking a bit more than usual given that Hurosius didn't have access to his Servitors at the moment but each Adept of the Cult Mechanicus started out without a servitor, only their blood and sweat. Earning their first Mechadendrite after their graduation from menial, earning their robes and then the rank of Adept.

Hurosius had started from the beginning and earned his own Mind Impulse Unit after 200 years of service. It had dampened his emotions but sometimes, Hurosius thought that vestigial elements resurfaced with disturbing intensity. The pleasure that came from working with his own Mechadendrites to put together a secondary plasma reactor was certainly concerning. He would have to undergo a diagnostics test to ensure that his cogitator was not malfunctioning.

Its primary function was not to strip his emotions, rather it was designed in order that he could control his Mechadendrites with unparalleled precision, more than that of his own limbs even. It was an even simpler matter to link himself to the defence grid of the network, every turret and mine responding easily, almost eagerly to his touch. With a single thought, he could end an intruder with a burst of Bolter of Lasgun fire, their bodies disintegrating with contemptuous ease.

Still, it was certainly invigorating to work on the generator, something he had not done for hundreds of years. His chanting to appease the machine spirit and his rituals of anointing and tightening were almost second nature. He still repeated the old adage of "Lefty Loosey, Righty Tighty" however, there were things that would always apply and forever be useful.

His binaric chants increased in intensity as his arms stretched out to place the final piece, their bionic strength and steadiness allowing for precision placement of the panel and its wiring. His chants peaked in intensity as he appealed to the machine spirit within that the ritual had been successful. His binaric chanting slowly fading away as the initiation ritual began and completed, the device powering itself on.

A smile formed upon his metaphorical lips, they having been replaced by a respirator long ago for increased efficiency. It was complete, the secondary plasma generator would allow for the continued operation of the network in the event that the first set of generators failed. That being said, if the first set of generators failed, there was the very real possibility they were facing a threat that was much bigger than what could be coped with another generator. Sabotage of it, however, as much as it pained Hurosius to contemplate the act of destroying a sacred vessel of the Machine God, would allow them to destroy the enemy along with themselves. A final act of resistance.

The possibility was low enough however, his link to the defence grid also allowing him to instantly know if there was anyone who was not meant to be here. For example one Daniel Hebert who had returned home from his sanctioned shift of his supervisory position and was now descending into the complex.

Hurosius' auspex array, embedded within the network itself was tracking the man now, he was, after all, the biological donor of the Princess and his safety was an issue of concern. Since he was not back, it took a weight off Hurosius' back, things would be much easier without the need to divert some of his attention away to keep track of the man.

A quick defragging of his memory stack and Hurosius was ready to greet the man.

"Ummm, Hurosius was it?" Asked Daniel.

"Yes, Daniel Hebert, biological donor to Taylor Hebert, I am designated Hurosius."

"Ok, Hurosius… Ok, what are you exactly?"

Hurosius took a moment to consider an answer, it was a complicated question, in all honesty, he was an adept of the Cult Mechanicus, something that in itself was a complicated answer to the question. He was an interface which could communicate with the Machine Spirit, a vital cog in the continued existence of the Imperium. He was both a weapon and a valuable tool. He was both man and machine.

Hmmm. A question to be answered certainly. As his cogitator sped up to increase his perception of time, Hurosius spent what amounted to hours inside his own head while Daniel spent mere seconds waiting for him in the objective world.

"I am an Adept of the Cult Mechanicus." He said eventually. The questions he would be asked from this point on would allow him to refine his answer further.

"What do you do here?" Daniel asked. A very ignorant question if one ignored the man's origins, that there would be someone that did not recognize an Adept of the Mechanicus would have been unthinkable if he was still in the Imperium.

"I commune with the Machine Spirits and carry out the rituals to ensure the continued performance of the machines present within this facility. I am the most qualified Engiseer present, indeed I am the only Engiseer present." He said, dissatisfied with the answer but the lack of contextual knowledge present in Daniel Hebert denied him a more complete answer.

"So… what is going on here? How did you get enough concrete to build this. How did you get the manpower. How did you do this without anyone noticing?" Said Daniel Hebert. He was rather agitated, heart rate increasing as was his blood pressure level. It was not at a dangerous level as of yet but it was approaching it.

"We requisitioned the materials." It was common knowledge was it not? To get more generators, ceramite, plasteel and digging materials, one simply requisitioned it. Indeed, Hurosius did not remember a time when he did not have the materials he needed to construct the various machines in the base, the turrets were all requisitioned goods themselves. The Death Korps of Krieg Platoon that was at this moment, digging further down to enlarge the network, could simply requisition the ceramite as it was needed, they would never run out.

Was that not how people constructed cities and structures in this universe? A mighty strange universe he considered.

"You just pull out materials from thin air?" Asked Daniel Hebert, his voice sounded rather congested. His face was turning rather red in colour, not quite the colour of Hurosius' robe but it was close.

"No, we requisition it. To the uneducated, it would look like we pulled it out of thin air but it is in actuality requisition of the items we need." He said, it was rather simple. If one needed something, whether it be more magazines for a Lasgun or another bolt for the Heavy Bolter, one merely needed to requisition it.

"So all of this… is from nothing?" Asked Daniel again.

"No, no. It was all requisition, hardly from nothing." He said, feeling as if his point was not getting across. A demonstration would be needed he felt. "Look, at my hand." And on his hand was a swirl of gold which ended with a bolt shell. "See? It was requisitioned, hardly from nothing."

The look on Daniel Hebert's face told him that his demonstration was not convincing enough.

Spoiler: AN

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

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I woke up and… I was in a completely different place. It was kind of hard to tell at first since the walls and the cupboards and the everything was the same. Only the window… opened to a concrete wall. My entire room was covered in concrete?

I frown, then I try to ease out the frown. Wrinkles are bad for a girl.

I try and sit up but its hard, my whole body feels like it doesn't want to listen to me.

I want to get up. But I can't.

It's like there's no strength in my arms or legs, my stomach muscles just don't work at all. I'm trying to sit up, I'm trying to roll over and nothing works. I'm stuck here and I'm starting to panic.

Did they attack me after all? What do they gain by attacking me? Why imprison me in my own room? What is going on?

I start hyperventilating, the stress is getting to me, I can't control my body and I'm stuck inside a room that has no escape routes. I can't get up to get to the door so that doesn't count.

What's going on?!

The door opens and I try to get up. But I can't. There's a thumping in my ears, my entire body. I start shaking, I can't control the adrenaline that's pumping through.

"Ah Taylor, please don't try and move. Your body is undergoing metamorphosis right now and I'm told it is extremely painful." Said Maxine. She was wearing her usual dress today, big cleavage. Lots of cleavage. Down Taylor, you can't be jealous when mom was small as well. It's in your genetics.

Damnit.

I try to talk. Only I can't, my jaw aches. Like my whole body. Only, by trying to talk I notice how much my jaw aches. It's even worse than the time Hess punched me across the jaw. Maxine looks at me with sympathy however and turns to walk out of the room. I panic. Is she just going to leave me like this? My heart drops as well, don't leave me like this!

Only she comes back in, my heart goes up and suddenly I'm very happy. Super happy. What's wrong with me? She's wheeling a wheelchair… only it's floating. A hoverchair. What? Hover tech? Are they tinkers? Wait. Now that I think about it, the Imperium is a galactic civilisation, and they come from the Imperium… doesn't that mean that the Imperium has high technology? Ooooh that's nice, a huge empire full of hoverchairs. No more walking… ever. Yes. I approve of this.

"Ok Taylor, would you like a tour of the facility? We need to get you to the Command Center for a briefing on what your small army has been doing while you were asleep." Maxine said, smiling as she did so. I think I like Maxine, she's like the mom that I didn't know I needed. I think mom would have been happy that Maxine was around to help me.

I try to nod to her question. Bad idea. My entire neck is in agony, my back is burning. My everything hurts. Why? Oh Scion, why. It hurts. So badly. Oh God. Note to self, do not stretch head forward.

Ok, breathe in. Breathe out. Ok. Try again.

I move my eyes, they hurt. Only a little less. Only I don't need glasses anymore apparently, I can see just fine. Is this what she meant by metamorphosis? That I'm changing over time to something else? I don't know anymore. Ok. Breathe Taylor. And it hurts. My lungs hurt, my stomach hurts, that little strip of muscle above my stomach hurts. Oh god.

"Taylor? Look at me. Ok? Just look at me."

I look at her, moving my eyes just a little bit.

"Ok. I know it hurts dearie, do you want to go or do you want to wait here? The metamorphosis process hurts, but I've never met anyone who went through it while awake. Do you want us to come to you, or do you want to see what's changed?" She says. I don't want to seem weak but I'm not sure on exactly what I'm supposed to say. Or rather I don't know if I can tell her anything at all.

She looks at me… then she looks at my throat. Then her eyes become soft. Oh, sympathy. How I missed you.

"Well, there's no point trying to get you up and about right now is there? Just lie there sweetie and you can explore when you wake up again." She said. "Would you like for me to sit with you for a while?"

She seems to be able to read my mind… or at least my eyes and takes a seat on the hoverchair. She puts her hand on my own under the blanket, smiling as she does so. She doesn't press too hard though, stopping just when it would start hurting. Everything aches, I'm not too sure when I will actually fall asleep but she's going to be sitting there for a while…

Maxine stood up, her eyes hardening as she did so. The Princess was asleep and she could return to her duties. She was a Hospitaller which was true, she was also of the order Famulous, charged with educating the nobles of the Imperium, of ensuring the purity of their minds and their bodies and to dissuade those that might turn away from the Light of the Emperor. Those that refused to be dissuaded had to be dealt with… with force or with diplomacy as she deemed fit.

For her charges, anything that might disrupt their minds, that might make them vulnerable to the predations of Chaos had to be dealt with, with extreme prejudice and speed. Considering that the Princess was the next Primarch, that inside of her was part of the Emperor's soul fused to her own, that she would grow up and possibly even match the Emperor in power.

Well, whatever threats there were to her peace of mind would be dealt with, especially while she was vulnerable. Those excuses of humanity that had attacked her for a year and a half now… the Catachans would deal with them, if they failed, she would intervene personally. One did not live with the Nobles of the Imperium without picking up a few skills.

That being said, she was overdue to a meeting with Daniel Hebert, he needed a reassurance and he needed an explanation. He held significant sway over the Princess' mind and needed to be dealt with in a manner that would see him advocate for them and not against them. It would not do for the Princess to be educated the wrong way and turn out to be a second Horus.

As she walked down the corridors of the underground base, spread out and grown until it was enough to house an entire Regiment of Imperial Guardsmen… an Armoured Regiment of Guardsmen. It was growing even further, the Death Korps of Krieg troopers excavating and reinforcing as they went, pushing further downward. The entire facility resembling a massive ant's nest, stretching corridors, elevators for emplacements and more. It was an entire underground base to defend against anything that could be thrown against it. The "Endbringers" that Adept Hurosius had uncovered on the local infonet were worrying to be sure, but they were smaller than an Imperial Titan and had the resilience of something… Not as strong as Space Marine armour but not as weak as flak armour.

If worst came to worst they could use a Vortex Warhead but that would destroy much of the city which the Princess would likely forbid them to use. Maxine gave a brief sigh, the Princess would not willing to make the hard decisions as of yet, her upbringing emphasizing peace and unity. She was not ready for the Imperium and the need to make decisions with brutality and decisiveness. She would have to be taught and Maxine was not looking forward to it.

As she walked, she came upon the father of the Princess, Daniel Hebert as he sat in the "family room" as it was known. A recreation of the one upstairs in the house that was now a large trap filled with Krieger heavy weapons teams.

"So Danny, you had questions?" She said, the man sitting on the couch looking distinctly out of place.

"Yes, you seem to be the most… stable one here. I have questions regarding exactly what is going on here with Taylor and where you come from." He said. Understandable really, his daughter had been in bed for a week now, her body noticeably changing as her body remade itself into the perfect human being. It was a painful process and Taylor had woken up multiple times, only she never remembered she had, every time like the first.

She sat down opposite him on one of the spindly wooden chairs that had come from original room. "Please, ask away." She said.

"What's happening to Taylor?" He asked, face twisted into a grimace of uncertainty.

"Her body is currently undergoing a metamorphosis, changing its very genetic structure in order to create the perfect human. She will emerge from the other side with a body that will allow her to use her awesome powers without fear of backlash, a body that is functionally immortal in every sense of the word and a mind that has been changed to meet the demands placed upon it. The process unfortunately, is not a painless one, the Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes undergo an artificial form of the procedure and it can drive them mad. Luckily Taylor appears to be forgetting the pain every time she wakes, I am not sure if it is due to her special soul or if it is simply delayed pain. Regardless, I am unsure as to when it will be complete, something like this has never happened before." Maxine said, gesturing as she spoke.

"Then Taylor is changing?" He asked, hands trembling slightly as he did.

"Only her body Danny, she will still be Taylor when it is over." She said, laying her hands over his, easing the tension within slightly.

"How did you get here? Don't you come from another universe?" Danny asked, voice more stable now that he confirmed his daughter would remain the same.

"We do Danny, we come from what you might call the Imperial Universe. The reason that we are even here at all is due to the Caretakers and their understanding of the soul allowed for them to follow the thread of the Emperor's soul and then to force open a portal which allowed for those encased in the Emperor's power to travel through to the other side. In short, a group of people within the Imperium lent their efforts to allow us to appear here. I myself am a Caretaker educated Sororitas, formative years spent on a Beacon World." Maxine smiled as she spoke, reliving the memories of when life was much simpler on the Beacon worlds. The most casual planets in the galaxy was their motto.

"So let me get this straight, a fragment of the soul of this "Emperor" of yours appeared in front of Taylor, merged with her soul and you were worried about her, so you came here with your advance force to help her?" A rather simple explanation, one lacking nuance, but it would do.

"Yes, that is roughly the right idea."

"Why? Why are you so willing to jump to another universe to be with her? Why are you willing to jump into the unknown just to help some girl that you never met before?" He said, voice barely below shouting level. He was agitated, she understood that, her devotion to the Emperor and to an extent, the Princess would be rather strange to one not raised in the Imperium.

"It is because she is the embodiment of the Emperor, she is the pinnacle of divinity one may reach without being the Emperor. She is the Princess and to make it clear, Mr Hebert." She stared into his eyes, all the more to make her point clear. "We would, all of us, willingly leap into the jaws of death for her. Her life is more important than all of ours and we will see her safe, we will see her grown to her full potential, and we will see her returned to her spiritual father, the God Emperor. She will be the next Primarch, the greatest of them all if I have anything to say about it. Our lives are currency and she will spend them as she sees fit!"

She leaned back in the chair, calming herself. She might have gone a little overboard there.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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Taylor Hebert woke up, or a human being that was named Taylor Hebert but now resembled someone with only a passing similarity to the original woke up. Her body had changed… dramatically so.

No longer was she the skinny, gangly girl of before, now she was… different.

She felt different, walking was more difficult now that her proportions had changed, taller, more muscle, more power with every step. The Taylor Hebert of old had never felt like this, that every fibre of her being was brimming with an intensity and a strength that boggled the mind. She felt as if she could shatter mountains with a single punch, her stomp cracking the continental plate, her body ready to stop bullets, her skin as powerful as steel.

So much change, so much of the knowledge regarding the change being in her mind, something that was admittedly very confusing and worrying. Why was it that she knew what her body was capable of? Why did she understand the many minute ways she had been made anew from the original body of Taylor Hebert?

So many little things, like that she no longer needed to eat, that in her head, she held the power of one of the greatest psykers ever born in this universe or the next, only the God Emperor of Mankind and his son Magnus surpassing her.

How? This made no…

Hello, Taylor. I see you have finally awoken, allow me to welcome you into the family.

A voice came from inside her head. It spoke with a rather… high pitched voice in all honesty, something that felt so very strange given the amount of power that emanated from his voice. Still, part of the knowledge she had been given was the knowledge to reply.

And reply she did, even if her body was the pinnacle of human development and then some… she was also still mentally Taylor Hebert. It would change over time as her body influenced her thoughts, but at this stage, she was still the Taylor of old.

Ummm. Hi?

Yes Hi. The amusement leaked through. I am Magnus, your older brother. No doubt you have questions, I am here to answer them for you.

Ummm… what happened to me?

Tis a long story. Are you comfortable? We will begin once you are ready.

Taylor nodded even though Magnus wouldn't be able to perceive it and lay back down on the bed, no need to waste energy sitting upright.

It all began…

Danny, Black, Maxine, and Hurosius looked up as Taylor walked into the room, led by a Krieger. He/she/it saluted before closing the door behind her.

"Ummm. Hi, dad? Surprise?" She tentatively said, spreading out her arms slightly.

Lunch was forgotten as the 4 of them stared. The being that stood before them bore the features of Taylor Hebert true, but she was also so very different. Standing taller, at 7 feet tall, yet with the muscle and build to match, her body perfectly proportioned. No longer a lanky teen that looked stretched out by some eldritch force, she now had hips… and breasts… perfectly sized ones that looked as if they had been made and custom fit just for her.

She had curves now, curves that she had spent quite a bit of time in the mirror appreciating, running her hands down her sides and admiring that she had hips now. What was more was that her hair, her pride, the one thing she could say she was proud of, had become something that shattered human imagination. It was glossy, it was smooth, it had no split ends (nor would it ever), perfect to style, perfect to keep, perfect in every way. A walking hair advertisement that put even the greatest of models to shame. That was her, Taylor Hebert.

What was more, was that she stood… proud. No longer hunched on herself, trying to hide away from the world. Rather she stood there, not leaning forward, aggressive, ready to take on the world as her spiritual father and brothers would, no. Even at the peak of humanity gender had its differences and Taylor after all, was the peak of womanhood now as well as human kind. Hers was a stance borne by the changes to her body, one that spoke of strength, of stability, that she was ready to face the world and sure in her knowledge of being able to take whatever life decided to throw at her. A calm acceptance of the fact that life had problems, but also that she could deal with them.

Confidence. She had confidence. Something that Daniel Hebert noticed, and berated himself for not noticing her previous lack of it sooner.

"Taylor?" He asked, tentatively reaching out to her.

She grinned at him, something else that he hadn't seen on her face for such a long time.

"Yes dad, it's me. I know I'm a little… different? But it's still me." She said, walking into his hug.

Again… something he hadn't done in so long. It was becoming a pattern, wasn't it.

Still, it was decidedly strange, she was the taller one now, his head mushed into her collarbone as she hugged him with backbreaking strength. He hit her shoulder blades a few times, ineffectually batting at her, trying to force her to let go before he was broken in half.

"Taylor? I think your dad needs some air." Said Maxine, distinctly amused at what was happening.

"Oh, sorry dad. I'm still getting used to all this strength." Taylor said, releasing Danny, an abashed smile on her face.

"No need to worry kiddo, it's ok. I've missed you too." He teared up a little at that, both of them smiling through the glimmering beads at the corner of their eyes.

Cough cough

Black tried to pull them back into the real world.

"Oh. Sorry. Sergeant Black, I didn't see you there." Taylor said, embarrassed again as she wiped the tears away.

"It's ok girl, we all get emotional now and again."

"Yes, as the good sergeant says, it's perfectly fine. Now, would you like me to begin explaining things in more detail now that you are up and cognizant?" Asked Maxine, standing up and brushing her robes clear of any crumbs as she did so.

"No, no. Magnus has already explained everything." Taylor said, beaming as she did so.

Maxine froze. "Magnus? You're already at the level where you can communicate with those back at home?" She asked, a bit of urgency in her voice this time. The languid prose she spoke with before absent.

"Yes, only with Magnus though and he needs to start the conversation for me to hear him." Taylor said, sounding wistful, it wasn't every day that you found out you had a new brother.

"I see… this does change things somewhat. Explain in your own words what you want to do from now on if you would. We live to serve, but we cannot serve if we have no instructions." Said Maxine, bowing formally to Taylor.

"Umm. Umm. Please don't bow, it makes me feel really weird." Taylor rushed out, walking over to Maxine and lifting her up by the shoulders, forgetting her own strength while doing so.

"It is expected Taylor, you are a Primarch now, the highest noble rank that there is in the Imperium, you will have to learn to accept it as your right. Everywhere you go, it will be expected that those present bow or kneel in your presence as greeting." Said Maxine, refusing to accept Taylor's request.

"Ugh. Well, I order you to not bow to me!" Taylor exclaimed, hands off Maxine's shoulders and on her own hips, confident in her victory.

"Then I shall not bow, but what will you do with the countless peoples of the Imperium? There are over a million worlds filled with peoples, will you tell them all to not bow as well?" Maxine asked, a cheeky lilt in her voice.

"Ugh." Taylor slumped her shoulders forward, defeated.

"Now then, with that fun and games out of the way, let's continue with where we left off. What are your plans from here on out Taylor? We will serve as best we can as soon as we hear of your plan." Maxine continued, her voice serious once more, her gaze resting on Taylor's eyes, every single ounce of her being radiating her seriousness in this. She had said her life was currency to be spent as Taylor saw fit, and Maxine had meant every word of it.

Taylor rocked back on her heels, eyes up to the ceramite ceiling, arms crossed in a slightly defensive posture. She hummed softly before a change came over her body, gone was the young teen dropped into a new (but perfect) body, here was the Taylor Hebert of Legend. Primarch, daughter of the God Emperor of Mankind with all that entailed, she who would in future have hymns sung of her name, she who was the closest to divinity that the people of Earth Bet would ever lay eyes on.

No longer Taylor Hebert the young, the insecure. No, this was Taylor Hebert the Primarch.

"I will do as my Brothers and my Spiritual Father did. I will claim this planet, I will unify under my name, under my fist. I will fight off the foul aliens that have called my world their home, I will defend the people who suffer under their foul games, I will crush my enemies, I will savour my friends. I will liberate this world, all who stand before me must be destroyed.

"So I swear on my name as Taylor Hebert." Voice thunderous, resonating in their very bones and souls, the four in the room quivered, even Hurosius, more machine than man.

There was a brief amount of clapping from Maxine before she cruelly cut into Taylor.

"Very good inflections, pitch, and tonal control. However, it was a bit long and needs some work if you wish to be known as a great orator." Maxine said.

Taylor looked down at that, Maxine smiled and said "It was a perfectly good first try dear. But you must understand, you are about to embark on a journey of global conquest, you must hone every part of yourself to perfection. Otherwise, the good people will find fault with it, people tend to not like being conquered you see, even if it is with good deeds and grace [[warding off Taylor's interruption]. If they criticise it will only stir discontent, and a discontent people rebel. Be perfect and they will have nothing to criticise." Maxine said, giving Taylor a hug.

"But if I need to train then…" Taylor's voice trailed off, the mounting horror on her face only matched by the wide smile on Maxine's.

"Yes Taylor, classes."

It was said the groan could be heard throughout the entire underground complex. Physically impossible said Hurosius, but the Kriegers refused to give up the idea that it had happened.

They were very happy to have a walking embodiment of the Emperor walking amongst them. Assigning her miracles was just a natural extension of that.

The Death Korps of Krieg had been bolstered however by the presence of even more of their number, her eminence in her infinite wisdom (lol), had decided that while she was taking classes to learn all that she needed to know as a ruler of humanity, the Kriegers would continue fortifying the position around complex as well as beginning the manufacturing of more complex rooms in the base.

To that end 3 more Engiseers had been summoned, their presence to augment the clearly overworked Hurosius. At the same time, another 10 squads of Death Korps of Krieg infantry had been summoned, not as infantry but as labourers, their skills in fortifications needed here. They would assist the already existing squads as they tunnelled and fortified the area.

In the week that Taylor had been unconscious, they had dug deep, nearly a kilometer deep. They had not spread out wide, their lack of manpower making that a foolish and potentially dangerous situation if someone were to discover the tunnels. No, deep it was.

Now, however, they had the manpower and could now go wide, the Engiseers in their little Manufactorum could begin trying to create specialized weaponry to be used by the guardsmen. There was little hope of that given their attitude towards creating technology instead of merely replicating it, but a guardsman could dream.

The cogs were turning and this world would soon learn of the name 'Taylor Hebert' may she live forever.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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#14

Garry, or Gazza to his mates was a good guy. He carried his weight, kept things on the hush hush when he needed to and when it came down to it, he was a hard hitter in a fight.

Didn't mean he was dumber than a stack of bricks, just slightly sharper than a sack of knives. Sure he wasn't going to be going around talking to machines like the cogboys, but it didn't mean that he had nothing else going for him either.

He could take apart a man, a Catachan Devil, a Chaos Space Marine just to name a few. All of them at some point or another felt the bite of his knife or rather knives. He had a few of the bad boys, a dinky little thing with venom on it that could kill a Space Marine, a mercury filled machete of sorts that gave him that extra little oomph when he wanted to remove a few limbs without all the effort. Then there was his power knife, well he called it a knife, but apparently it was called a sword by the Imperials.

He wasn't exactly sure as to the whys, but it might because he was 2 meters and 10 centimeters tall, a giant of a man compared to the dinky little humans in the rest of the Imperial Guard. Sure he wasn't Space Marine tall, but he was tall enough that one had to look up when trying to talk to him.

Gazza didn't really notice his height until his first deployment. That had been interesting. So many little people compared to the Catachans who had been deployed. It turned out the Catachan just made really great soldiers naturally, being tall was how things went, a nice little perk to have when your homeworld ate most of its population. That and the short people tended to get eaten first.

His height had been a little conspicuous then, it was a little conspicuous now. As he walked down the little area near the coast that the natives called the "boardwalk", he kept his eyes open. He was here on an "in-depth reconnaissance" mission to fully explore the area in preparation for its eventual annexation by the Princess.

Well that had been what he had been told, he wasn't sure as to how much of it was truth or fiction, and he wasn't interested in finding out. Decades of campaigning, some of it against Chaos had seen him and all the others who had fought them, develop some very healthy respect for the idea of compartmentalization. When the enemy could quite literally pull your thoughts from your mind, the less you knew was the better for your mates.

It was only the fact that he was a Catachan that had kept him alive in a few of those situations. Where someone had their thoughts wiped and the Chaos bastards had set up an ambush, only they were human and he had grown up on Catachan. If they considered that to be an effective ambush… well they had another thing coming.

Which it did. His bicep had 6 confirmed Chaos Space Marine kills from that campaign. It certainly got the ladies going he knew that much. A few of the Guardswomen had been very appreciative of his saving their lives and he had been happy to accept their appreciation. Size in body had translated to size down there as well.

His height was allowing him to make his way through the crowd without worrying about whether or not he knew where he was going. People would make way for him, that was how life was in the land of giants. Or rather that's how it should have worked.

"Hey there little lady, watch where you're going hmmm?" He said, his voice rumbling out of his chest. When you were 2 meters and a bit tall, you needed to speak up or nobody would be able to hear you from up on high. Gazza gently caught the little girl by the shoulders and shifted her slightly to the side so that she wouldn't walk dead-on into him. While it wouldn't be much of an issue for him, his muscles were dense enough that he could take a few bullets to the chest without worrying, the little girl might get knocked out.

He had learnt that the hard way when a guardsman had run into him and knocked himself out on his chest.

She looked up at him, those were some nice eyes, a little sharp. They were green, but that wasn't the problem, it was the way she was looking at him, like the way psykers did when trying to see someone. It was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. She had dark blond hair which was rather different. Sanctioned psykers generally didn't have hair, all the better to see the blood or tattoos if they turned to Chaos. Not all psykers turned, but there had been enough for him to be wary around them.

She had freckles which brought out a grin on his face. It had been a while since he had seen someone with freckles. There was Fred all the way back on Catachan, a rangar, red as the afternoon sun, freckles covering his face and most of his shoulders. The lads used to joke about whether or not rangars felt pain more than other hair colours. Too bad he had died the first time they went out, a Dragoon Firefly grove had gotten him before they even knew what was happening.

It was called that since the damned things liked to line up in little neat rows that made their particular woody camouflage pattern blend in with the bark of the trees they perched on. The fire part being the way they fired acid at anything that came nearby that felt like you were being burned alive. Poor Fred had died screaming.

The girl was looking up at him, just staring. Gazza wasn't sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. Apparently, psykers were different in this universe, they didn't have the whole falling to the Ruinous Powers thing going on and weren't insane and wracked by constant pain like other psykers were. That and they were more accepted in this society than psykers back in the home universe were, it was a rather strange feeling but it wasn't the worst. Not having to constantly worry about executing the poor lad that just wanted peaceful sleep was a good thing in his book.

"Ummm. I'm sorry about that. Do you mind if I bought you a drink to make up for it?" She said, her voice told him that she was pretty young. Old enough to kill, but not old enough to be shipped out yet. Hadn't hit her stride yet.

Still, the psyker wanted him to accompany her a bit longer. Gazza wondered a bit about whether or not this was a ploy of some kind. Maybe she really needed someone to kill her? To put her out of her misery?

Nah, the psykers here weren't weird. Now that he thought about it, they got their powers after they had been born. Didn't that make them mutants? Like… brain mutants. Some of them were physical mutants but the rest were brain mutants. Gazza wasn't sure what he was meant to do when he met up with one of the physical mutants, was he supposed to kill them? The Imperial Motto (the unofficial one) said to Kill the Mutant… that and Burn the Heretic and Purge the Unclean.

Hmmm. Something to think about, he might have to ask Sergeant Black about their Rules of Engagement.

Abruptly he snapped back to the present, his hands were still on the girl's shoulders, bit hands compared to her really, each palm covered what must have been half her shoulders as well as a big portion of her upper arms. That and he hadn't replied to her invitation.

Well maybe he should, he was meant to be doing some "investigating" after all, and he always wanted to try being like those Pic-Vids that the Guardsmen liked to watch when they had free time. They didn't have stuff like that back on Catachan, every day had been a fight for survival, they didn't have time to watch things like that and waste time. Not when they could be outside burning back the foliage, maintaining the weapons, or the millions of other little things that kept the village running.

"Sure." he said.

Lisa Wilbourn had been walking down the Boardwalk, trying to clear her head. Coil still had her in his grips, the Undersiders were still in a perpetual state of near anarchy with Bitch being a… bitch, and Regent just poking at everyone until they just left the room… that or punch him in the face.

She needed a little air and so she had left, the little apartment she had, that no doubt Coil knew about was just too confining on a day like today. A day where you could actually see the sun for once, and Lisa had had enough of being locked up, even if it was in her mind.

And so it was that she was walking down the Boardwalk, her head to the ground, trying to keep her eyes from looking up and into the mass of people milling around. It would be a bad idea if she did, while it wouldn't overload her mind and bring on the migraines at something like this, it would still be a strain on her if she did. Always keep some in reserve or so she had learnt.

It was also why she had seen a gap between the legs around her that she stepped into it and had almost collided with a giant of a man. As in he was so tall that she had to crane her neck nearly all the way back to look at his face.

Shirt tight - uncomfortable - not used to wearing a shirt - not used to wearing clothes at all

Woah. She didn't need to know that. Sure she enjoyed the male physique, what kind of girl that wasn't a lesbian didn't? Especially the one in front of her, those arms were thicker than her thighs she was sure, that chest and mmmm… all of it. He was a prime male specimen, and if it wasn't for her pesky power ruining any intimate moments she could have, she would be lapping him up. If he was single. Maybe even if he wasn't, one just didn't let man like this get away.

It was then that she looked up into his eyes and had to hide her shock. The gasp nearly breaking its way through the sudden clenching of her teeth.

Eyes tightening - Stress - Knows I have powers - Knows I can deduce information with my powers - Has seen similar before - Suspicious of me - Wary

Lisa had to make very sure she didn't betray herself, he knew that she was Cape. She wasn't sure how, but he knew for sure that she was a Cape. What was more, she was very sure that since he had met people with powers like hers before… he was going to be paying attention to her from this point forward. What this meant she wasn't sure. She had to get him alone to question him. She needed answers, this was too mysterious and even though her danger senses were ringing with the force of a million alarm bells… she was intrigued and that was dangerous in and of itself. A mystery wrapped in a tall, dark package? Mmmmm.

Lisa wracked her mind about what to say before settling on a classic.

"Ummm. I'm sorry about that. Do you mind if I bought you a drink to make up for it?"

Interested - Unexpected proposal

She hid her grin, the one that was about to break out on her face. Only for it to stop.

Distracted - Thinking about something else - Tangentially related

Lisa fought the urge to frown, a cute girl asks you out and he has the nerve to daydream? The bastard.

"Sure." He said. Shrugging because he was a bastard.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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#15

Lisa sat at the table in the coffee shop, something warm, mmmmm. It was extra sweet, just the way she liked it, everything else in life was a little sour, why not get something that isn't absolutely terrible in there? Add in a little caramel, a little more sugar, a little chocolate, and maybe some coffee… if you insist. Lisa took a moment to appreciate the gloriousness that came with drinking something so deliciously amazing.

The man opposite her meanwhile, the one she had invited while she wasn't thinking straight was simply sitting down and was drinking tea like a heathen. Or rather he had drunk his tea like a heathen. A single gulp and the entire mug went down his throat, a mug of what must have been boiling hot tea.

Felt no pain

Gee power. Thanks for that, a man that doesn't feel pain from boiling water. Just what I wanted to know.

"Speak." Came his voice, deep and very impatient. She didn't need her powers to tell her that.

She risked a look at him, avoiding his eyes, she didn't want to annoy him again. Some had said that she was cocky, that she was too self confident. And that was true, when your powers dissected the world around you and fed it straight to your mind in streams of information, there came a sense of power with that. Of knowing what the world did not, of being different… special. It had certainly fueled her thoughts, her knowledge of her difference being very much central to her identity, it was all she had really.

Sure she had money, but she was locked in by Coil, the Undersiders had been forced upon her and if she could, she would be keeping her head down rather than going out and doing Coil's missions. Sure she liked the thrill of it, but she liked having her head on her body even more. There was going to be a point that something was going to go wrong, and she wasn't going to be making it out in one piece. She was sure of that.

Escape… escape was impossible, not with Coil's power. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it wasn't as simple as probability manipulation. No, it was something different, something that was very much screwing her over.

Coil had kept her away from him as much as possible, to not give away his secrets, and Lisa's only chance of getting away was to find his power and abuse its weakness, assuming it had one.

"What is your name?" She started. Get information, see what he wants, see what he is, see maybe if he could be of any use to her plans.

"Garry, you can call me Gazza." There was that accent again. Australian, but with a little flair to it that she had never heard before. Rural dialect perhaps? There was also the fact that he abbreviated his name with a ZZA at the end of it, clear tells that he was probably Australian.

Confident - At ease - Has done this before

Lisa wasn't sure what was going on, but this was getting very strange very fast. How exactly was it that this man had contact with someone like her before? Weren't powers meant to be unique? Even still, if there were those with similar powers, how exactly did he have enough contact to be comfortable with one? Just what the hell was this man?

"I'm Lisa, nice to meet you Gazza." She replied back, wracking her brain to figure out a way to maybe figure out what he was exactly. This was getting frustrating. Asking directly might work, but if he knew how to counter her then she was going in blind, maybe even getting the wrong tells entirely.

Ugh.

Thinking and counter-thinking was going to kill her brain at some point or another. She might as well ask straight out and avoid trying to second guess herself. It was not a feeling that Lisa was used to. Usually, people second guessed themselves around her, she was not enjoying being on the opposite side of it.

"What are you doing her Gazza? A big man like you walking around in the middle of the day?" She said.

He knows this is an interrogation - Finds it amusing - Willing to humour - Wants information

She could work with that. A little give, a little take. He might not be a possible hostile and maybe even a possible ally. There hadn't been any indication that he was a Cape so far, just a very fit and tall man.

"Getting the lay of the land so to speak." Gazza said, leaning a little forward. A little for him that is, it was a very big looming for Lisa on the other side of the tiny little table.

Lay of the land - Military speak - Soldier - Current - On a mission

A soldier on a mission in Brockton bay. That did not sound good at all. She was going to need to get this to Coil, lay low for a few days or weeks even until this blew over. It would not be a good idea to antagonize the men with the guns and the tanks. Knowing the composition of the shell being fired at her from the barrel of a cannon would be interesting, but not very helpful in the grand scheme of things. That and the idea that they were working on training soldiers to counter powers.

"Oh, for anyone in particular?" Maybe he would drop which branch of the military he was part of. All the more to avoid whatever it was they were planning. She was not enjoying having to pull out every single piece of information, but he was making it so difficult.

Body posture - Highly alert - Used to being in high tension scenarios - Used to being in constant danger - Extremely relaxed - Used to being in high tension scenarios - Has killed - Not bothered by killing - Ready to kill - Ready to kill me

And so it went on and on, a large loop that was pounding its way through her skull. If he twitched or did a little jig with his fingers she would have what she wanted, but he just sat there, relaxing. It was infuriating and she was really aching to try and tear him down, not exactly the most intelligent of decisions, but desires were very rarely intelligent or even rational.

"The Sergeant." He said, smiling a little as he did so.

Enjoying this - knows this is frustrating for the questioner - drawing this out on purpose

Lisa gritted her teeth. Damnit, he must be a thinker or something if he was able to just… play with her so easily.

Maybe she could try using her powers on his clothes a bit more?

Pants crinkled - Dislikes discipline - Anti-Authority

And that didn't help. Sure it gave her his personality, but when he knew she would be going after those triggers, it wasn't going to help her in any way. She needed his motivations before she went crazy with frustration. This man was evil, he must be, it was the only thing that could explain what he was doing to her.

"Where are you from?" It was like pulling teeth from a particularly obstinate donkey.

Unsure of how to answer - Doesn't think I know where he's from - Not from around here

Well… that was insulting. Did he think that she was an idiot? Lisa gnashed her teeth, it was very difficult being on the other side of the conversation, where people thought she was stupid. It was very much like she thought it would be like.

Terrible. So very terrible.

"Hmmmm."

"Australia? You're from Australia?" She asked desperately.

Confused - Not sure what Australia is - Not from Australia

Then where did he get the accent?!

"Alice Springs. I'm from Alice Springs."

Truth - Believes he is from Alice Springs - Not Australian Alice Springs

Lisa felt a headache coming on. Not a thinker headache, a normal, run of the mill, frustration borne headache. She put her head on her hands or rather she put 2 fingers to her temples and massaged them.

Gazza jerked away from her, tension radiating from his body.

Ready for combat - Ready to kill - Can kill from that distance - Can kill before I can realise I am dead - Threatened by gesture - Gesture brings up bad connotations for him - Dangerous

This was… something that she hadn't expected at all. Lisa pulled her hands down slowly down. It was breakthrough, one that she realised came very close to killing her. How was she supposed to know that was going to happen? The headache came back, threatening to jab needles into her brain.

This was very much something she didn't want to deal with. A stranger that could identify her power, one that was apparently very used to killing and was very willing to kill her in public. Lisa liked a little danger, but this was very much out of her comfort zone.

Gazza relaxed slightly, it looked like the little mutant had decided not to attack him. It was a very definite sign that when a psyker wanted to use their powers, they would often either use their focus in one hand and extend the other outward. If they didn't have a focus however, they would instead put fingers to their temples instead. He had been ready to kill her before she tried to engage him.

Every time a psyker used their powers, there came with it the risk of her going insane and becoming possessed, it was a mercy more than anything else. If she had indeed become possessed, she would thank him for killing her before the daemon ate her soul. Sure the mutants and psykers of this universe didn't have the problem of daemons possessing their souls, but there was a first time for everything.

Thankfully the girl had decided that she had stopped. He didn't want to kill her, it was too much fun playing with her. He had dealt with psykers before, even had to guard a few of them, and it turned out that her abilities were very similar to theirs. That being mind reading or something similar, "reading the gestalt" or whatever they called it. He had to make sure his body language was as relaxed and simple as possible, to make sure that he gave nothing away through the way he sat, walked or talked. He had to say as little as he could to make it harder for her to glean anything from him.

It had taken a little while for him to perfect it, but the campaign had gone on for a few decades until his psyker charge had been killed. By him, the woman had reached too far and was being consumed by a daemon before he put a knife into the back of her head. The woman had managed to thank him before she died, which just went to show how far the daemon had managed to change her if a knife to the head hadn't straight up kill her.

Still, she had taught him enough that a fledgling little psyker like the girl in front of him wasn't able to penetrate his defences. She was making an admirable effort, asking him little innocuous things that would allow her to read his gestalt from his answers, or non-answers as it were. So long as the questions kept coming, she would be able to slowly dissect him and find what she wanted.

The question of where he was from was a little difficult, but it appeared that Alice Springs was indeed something in this universe. The one that he was from, was a spring made up of poison so concentrated that it allowed a lake to exist on a perpetual basis. The only permanent thing around in the region of Catachan where he had been born. As such it had received a name because of its rarity. If would be rather nostalgic if the Alice Springs of this universe was the same, Gazza resolved to visit it sometime.

He hadn't been home since he had left when he was conscripted to do his duty.

Still, that would be a little while away, and he was having so much fun poking at the little psyker.

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Nov 17, 2016

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#16

Taylor Hebert was finding that being a Primarch, the pinnacle of human existence, was not the greatest thing in the world. Rather it was kind of boring, lots of studying. Lots of studying.

Maxine was teaching her all she needed to know about how to rule a world, how to be diplomatic, how to do things in general. Lots of busywork essentially. What this meant for poor Taylor was that she was sitting in a room while Maxine lectured to her for hours on end. Her mind was sharp enough that she remembered everything that was being said, she didn't even have a notepad or anything like that to fiddle with while she was sitting down. The horrors of being a perfect human being.

Then came Hurosius' teachings, hours on hours of technical explanations, of teaching her what science was beyond quantum mechanics. So much to process, so little time, all of it just piling up inside her brain until she reached a catatonic state, all of the information just being poured into her head.

After that came Black's physical training, teaching her how to move her body the most efficiently and how to perform various take down manoeuvres. How to train her body so it was used to the demands she was going to be putting on it, how to stretch properly, the important things.

And so it was that despite her body having metamorphosed into something beyond humanity, she went to bed every day exhausted in body, mind and spirit.

The same could not be said for her "advisors".

"So we have confirmation on what exactly it is that we are having to deal with on this planet?" Asked Black, his eyes glancing over the data-slates in front of him.

He was a Catachan Jungle Fighter, his body barely a step below that of an Astartes. The pinnacle of humanity when it came to killing things and making sure that they were dead. He had not learnt to read until much later in life, there being little need for it when every day was a fight for survival.

One did not need to read to strip down a lasgun, one did not need to read in order to strip down a death claw. No, reading was optional when it came to surviving on Catachan. But as the highest ranking soldier in his little unit, or rather the fact that he was an officer (sort of) meant he needed to be able to read orders. Which in turn meant he was here now, trying to read the piddling little script that was low gothic on an even more piddly little screen on the data slate.

It was not what one might call an enjoyable experience, in fact, it was distinctly unenjoyable. His eyes that could spot a genestealer from 200 meters away, were straining themselves on the little letters they were called.

"The natives call them "Endbringers". A rather grandiose term but fitting for their capabilities one might say." Maxine tapped at the large data slate built into the table they were seated around. "This one is called the Simurgh, it is able to to wield telekinetic powers, to apparently predict the future, to implant unconscious suggestions on the minds of those that are within hearing range of her scream, and an ability to build strange technological devices." Maxine continued, pointing at the floating winged figure that looked as if it has been hewn from ceramite. It floated in the air above a city, doing some particularly… chaos things. Small little windows opening to show the specifics of what she had been speaking of.

"So we have a giant fucking farseer that fucked Tzeentch." Said Black, throwing his hands in the air.

"Not quite what I had in mind but that terminology works as well." Said Maxine, her voice amused.

"So what's next?"

Maxine did her arcane magic again, turning the data slate to show what looked to be a large… lizard of some kind. "This is called Leviathan, it has control over water and has the ability to survive under the water indefinitely. Unlike the previous, this one has the ability to fight in close combat, its strikes rate at approximately that of an Imperial Knight." Said Maxine, showing the bio-titan demonstrating its powers, smacking about the heroes. They died, rather splattery-like. Not the worst that Black had ever seen but it was certainly unique. Usually, things that size tended to go for the crushing or the slicing, the swatting was rather strange.

Then again, if one tried to swat a Space Marine, they would just get up again. Something told Black that the people of this universe had not met Space Marines before.

"So this one's just an overgrown lizard… with Warp powers."

"You're reaching there Sergeant Black." Said Maxine, taking malicious joy in his failing.

"And the last?"

Maxine did her thing again and am image came before them, of a large monstrous… humanoid figure that looked like the surface of some volcanic death world.

"This is Behemoth, complete control over electromagnetic radiation if our guesses are correct." She said.

"Looks like something the Orks would build."

"Not everything ugly is because of the Orks Sergeant, your bias is showing."

"Can you blame me? Nasty buggers can't even build a straight line." He replied.

"Well, it is not as if they had your architectural brilliance designing it for them." She retorted. Black frowned before giving up, she had more weapons in this kind of fight.

"Ok, so how do we kill it?" Asked Black, brow furrowed at the idea of slicing its neck. He was good, but he wasn't titan chopping good.

"With generous application of artillery and Lasguns." Said the Krieger Lieutenant. His voice as dull and monotonous as ever.

"With our current arsenal, it would be quite impossible. I'm afraid that we will have to seek out other avenues of attack. Hurosius?" Maxine waved her hand at the tech priest that was strangely silent. Probably looking at toasters again.

"Hngh hurr uth." He sputtered, head shooting up.

"Back with us?" Maxine smiled, in that way of hers that said she found this incredibly amusing.

"Hngh yes. Never left." He said. As senior most of the Engiseers present, he was seated at the table. At the same time, he was also a senior Adept of the Mechanicus, a bit of insanity was a given.

"I'll give you a moment to go over your logs." Maxine said, leaning back in her chair.

The others around the table sat and listened to the clacking that was Hurosius checking his internal logs and reading the transcripts of the conversation so far.

"Ah yes. I would recommend a large dose of extreme firepower, of the Vortek and Singularity kind fired from a Death Strike launcher specifically. Our augur scans have shown us that these "Endbringers" do not quite obey the laws of reality." He said after a pause, voice rather excited at the idea of using the "big guns".

"So basically daemons but without the mind fucking."

"Not quite Sergeant. It would be more appropriate to compare it too… a neutron star." Hurosius said, nodding as he did so.

"What?"

"Are you alright Hurosius?" Maxine asked.

"No no, you see, these "Endbringers" have bodies that become increasingly dense as one delves into them. At the rate it moves at, we can predict that it has the mass of a very large neutron star." Hurosius explained. "Our Augers have attempted to breach the outer layers of those that we have found, but it is proving difficult, limited as we are."

"Ok, so let's start from the beginning. What the hell is a neutron star?" Said Black, massaging his temples as he did so. This amount of thinking was far beyond what he was used to.

"It is what happens when a star goes into the stage or becoming a red giant where it will have the possibility of shedding its exterior and compressing further. The densest material in the universe barring black holes." Interjected Maxine, forestalling Hurosius' more indepth and more elaborate explanation. They did not quite have the time to learn how stars were born, not if Black was going to ask if he could stab it.

"So we need some kind of starkiller." Black said, not his area of expertise. Killing people, killing Orks, killing Chaos Space Marines, killing Tyranids, all his thing. Killing stars? Not so much.

"We currently do not have a Vortek Missile in our armoury, nor do we have a Deathstrike launcher to send one out. Our other option is to use a psyker of sufficient strength. Which we do possess in the form of the Princess." Said Hurosius, his optical piece flashing red as it ran an inventory on what was present.

"Well, that's out of the question, she's barely able to coordinate her arms and legs. Can't even imagine her trying to kill stars." Said Black, his head trying to wrap around the idea of the Princess not tripping over herself trying to a stalk. "She's got a ways to go before I'm going to let her leave the base. Like a newborn Space Marine she is." He said.

"Well, something to worry about at a later date then. It is not something urgent that we must consider, not as of yet. What is more important to consider is the local situation. Black?" Maxine asked, Black's Catachans had been sneaking throughout the entire city, tracking everything, searching for everything, gather intelligence in essence. They had returned yesterday after a week in the city, after killing off the complications that had decided to torture the Princess, the Catachans had spread themselves out. A few had returned again, more permanent information gathering methods being established for the long term.

The situation was not on the level of an underhive's politics and ganger situation, but it was not the same as an Agri World either. This was… interesting. A city that was split in 3 by the different factions with a fourth in the shadows.

"If we're looking at the city, the locals call it "Brockton Bay", a moderately sized city for an Agri World, 3 major factions. The first is the local law enforcement, their form of super powered Arbites, and 2 factions that focus on their skin colour as a defining feature. All of them have beings called "capes" in their ranks which are humans that have had mutations to their brains which allow them to use powers. Each power is unique and offers varying levels of utility." Said Black, leaning back after he was done.

"Discriminating based on race? How… primitive." Said Maxine, her face twisted with distaste.

"What of these 'capes' as they are called?" She continued, leaning forward, tapping at the data slate.

"They begin as normal people that undergo a 'trigger event' that gives them their powers. These trigger events are usually something traumatic in nature. They will then keep their powers and they don't appear to tap into the Warp as we initially thought. Each power seems to draw from an unlimited source of energy, the body is the only thing that faces exhaustion but it is unknown if this is consistent." Said Black.

"So we have gangs led by what amounts to psykers without the threat of corruption, but retaining all of the mental deficiencies that come with being a psyker, building their little kingdoms?" Maxine asked, her voice distinctly irritated.

"Yes, pretty much."

"They need to be dealt with. The Princess requires a calm state of mind to learn and continue to grow. We do not have the manpower to engage them at this current moment in time, but if we ask, the Princess will likely draw in more of our comrades in order to assist in the task of defending the Princess. We will have to start with reinforcing this network before we secure the area from aboveground. Once that is done, we will have to begin looking to the factions in the city and how we will deal with them." Maxine said, outlining a basic plan of action on a map of the city. "Any questions?"

"Hey, don't look at me. I got my rank because I'm good at stabbing things, not because of my battle plans." Black said, arms open wide.

"I hear and obey." Said the Krieger Lieutenant, his voice dull. He and his regiment were not known for their innovative ideas or creativity in general except when it came to building fortifications.

"I am an engiseer, I will leave the combat to you organics until the Skitarii arrive." Said Hurosius.

Plan sorted, they stood up and began working on the plan. First, defence, second offence. Rather complicated as far as Imperial Guard plans went considered Black.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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Nov 17, 2016

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Nov 17, 2016

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#17

Lieutenant 93#8219 of the 1948th Regiment was over his head. Quite literally in this case as he was underground, in the metaphorical sense as well. He had been given command over nearly 20 squads of Krieg Guardsmen.

For a platoon leader that was meant to be leading 5 squads at the maximum, leading 14 was far beyond what he was used to.

At the same time… they were Kriegers, they didn't need a platoon leader for something as mundane as building defences and setting up a defensive position in the underground of the city, without the enemy attacking them or was even aware of them.

For the Kriegers, they had an almost genetic disposition to fortifying a position, whenever they had a spare moment, a Krieger would almost unconsciously begin filling sandbags or even working on further ceramite smoothing.

For Princess Base, this meant that it was constantly expanding downward, sideways, widening corridors, installing turrets, setting up checkpoints, collapsable points, turning it into one of the most heavily defended points on the planet. Give them another few weeks or more Kriegers and it would be enough to make even the Kriegers back in the home galaxy proud.

The Engiseers were not doing nothing either, they were assisting in the installation of plasma cannon turrets, multi-las turrets, heavy bolter turrets, heavy weapons emplacements to be manned by the defenders as needed, an auger array that spread throughout the entire facility, connecting their comm-beads to a unified network. All the steps necessary to create a proper base facility.

Not only that, the Kriegers assisted in the construction of underground armouries, hangar bays, vehicle depots, barracks and more. The Princess would be bringing more of them through and they would appreciate having beds ready for them.

As of right now, however, after the meeting, Lieutenant 8219 of Batch 93 had new orders. With orders from the ranking officer of Maxine that held the post due to her honorary Captain rank as a result of her position as a Famulous Sororitas, Lieutenant 93#8219 was preparing the further fortification of the area with the intention of rapid expansion when the order came down.

They would build their defences with the aim of creating a launchpad to assault the enemy positions. 93#8219 did not really care about the enemies, all of the Imperium's enemies were the same when looking down the sights of a Lasgun. Ork, ganger, rebel, insurrectionist, eldar, some were just bigger than others, some were faster, but the Lasgun fired lasers, lasers moved at the speed of light. It didn't matter how fast you were, the Lasgun would be there waiting for you at the end.

93#8219 was what one might say was very good when it came to shooting things with his Lasgun. Knowing that their enemies were essentially psykers and gangers, well that did not worry him overmuch. They were still human and humans tended to die when their heads exploded as the water inside boiled from a Laser bolt to the head.

Sure some of them might have shields, maybe some walls, but when there was a squad of Kriegers firing down range, well there was only so much you could do to survive.

93#8219 wasn't worried about the enemy or potential enemies. The big bio-titans, were concerning, true. But he was a Krieger, he was ready to die, it was the simple reality of being an Imperial Guardsmen. He was ready to die, he was going to die, he was worried that he would die without accomplishing his mission.

His mission in this case, was to increase the fortifications of the facility. It was an issue since they had made the entire facility as fortified as it possibly could be at the moment. There was a central shaft that went directly down, tapping into the planet's core for energy. There were plasma reactors installed along the main shaft for emergency backup power. There were 11 tunnels that branched out into a radial arrangement that would allow them to better spread out to shorten the distance one needed to travel to strike at the enemy. These tunnels or rather spokes were set every 100 meters along the main shaft.

Exactly what they could do with an extra 140 Kriegers was difficult. Sure they could build, but could they defend? They would need to focus almost entirely on automated systems which were difficult to build considering there were only 4 Engiseers to oversee the entire facility. It was an issue that needed to be solved and the Princess was currently busy, which made it much more difficult.

93#8219 did not think about the fact that he could go and seek an audience with the Princess, he was a Krieger, he was not worthy.

Still, the sudden appearance of 20 squad leaders, all looking to him for direction… well, it certainly made things easier. But it also made things a little more difficult since he was now making decisions for another 20 squads of Kriegers.

This was not what he thought he would be doing. Securing a trenchline, fortifying it, fighting off attacks. Not leading a few companies of Kriegers. This was certainly not what he thought would be happening.

But he was a Krieger, he would do what was necessary.

Armsmaster or rather Colin Wallis was looking at the monitor with concern.

"Dragon?" He called out, the microphones embedded in his workroom would pick up his voice.

"Yes Colin?" She replied, an indistinct blur appeared on the screen hanging above his work desk.

"Are you seeing this?" He asked, pointing at the screen in front of him, the one that showed the seismic activity in the Brockton Bay area.

"Hmmm. Yes. Increased vibrations? Of a different pattern than anything I've seen before, but also very similar."

"Yes, it looks like an excavation process, but it's on a scale that we've never seen before. Whatever it is that is being built, it is enormous. And if I'm right, then they are digging very deep down." Said Colin. He was interested, if this was a new tinker, then he wanted to know exactly how it was that they were digging so far down, using equipment that had not tipping off any of his early Tinker warnings, requiring a manual check to see.

"Could this be a Tinker?" He asked, Dragon would have a more comprehensive list of data than him.

"Unless the Tinker is specialized in automation, then probably not. See these spikes here?" Dragon asked, a little dragon appearing on his screen, jerking its head at a particular bump on his monitor.

"Yes?"

"It's what happens when there are 2 or more smaller vibrations mixing together into a single large one." She said.

"So we're working with a new organisation?"

"Yes, it certainly looks like it. Whoever this is, is very well equipped and very well funded from the looks of it. I would hazard that a new gang has arrived in Brockton Bay." Dragon finished.

"But who would be doing this? There aren't any gangs in North America that would be doing something like this without at least making it known they were in the area to begin with." He asked to the air, leaning back in his custom made chair. A small flask was emptied into his mouth, another 5 hours of wakefulness before he needed another dose. Concentrated Caffeine and suppressants to prevent the side-effects of concentrated caffeine on his body.

"Wait. The activity is intensifying." Dragon said, her voice urgent.

Colin jerked himself up, face back in front of the monitor. Sure enough, the seismograph was jumping up, double that of the last week.

"It looks like whoever was there before was just the precursors, I would begin preparing your defences. They appear to be intensifying for some unknown reason, if they are planning a debut…" Dragon trailed off, the implications of her words running into Colin's brain.

He swore softly.

"Is there any chance that this is not located in Brockton?" She asked, concern pouring out of her voice.

"No, I checked personally. I've triangulated it myself. It's located in the residential areas to the north of the city, low income housing. The people probably don't even know that its happening under them." Colin said, checking in the webcam that he was properly dressed, Piggot was going to need to know about this.

"Well… good luck Colin." Dragon said, her voice oozing sympathy.

"Thanks, Dragon." He said, getting ready to leave.

"Wait Colin. Could this have to do with the death of Shadow Stalker?" Dragon called out.

Colin stopped in his tracks, his head buzzing with the possibilities. It certainly made sense, a sudden appearance of a new gang in Brockton that was digging a tunnel network under the city, the sudden demolition of Winslow, the killing of Shadow Stalker in her civilian identity as Sophia Hess, the killings of her 2 friends, Emma Barnes and Madison Clements. All 3 were killed with a knife cut across their throats.

"I thought that they were keeping themselves quiet, but Shadow Stalker was killed in the last week, and Winslow High was destroyed in the last week. We couldn't identify the explosives used in the Winslow incident. There is a high chance that it is a tinker of some kind. If there is a Tinker led gang making itself known in Brockton, why would they kill Shadow Stalker? They're breaking the unwritten rules." Colin said, returning to his chair, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Could it have been that tinker that triggered, destroyed her university with a tinker-tech bomb?" Dragon asked.

"Too soon, the time between her triggering and the time needed to gather enough people to dig whatever it is they are doing, is too short. Especially if she is a bomb tinker, not an automation focused tinker. She may have been recruited but it would not be her in charge." Said Colin, trying to tease out the information in his head. It was there, he was sure of it, just stubbornly staying just out of reach.

"It doesn't make sense. Why would they break the unwritten rules and kill Shadow Stalker, why would they destroy Winslow, why would they build something of that scale underneath Brockton? None of this is something that should be connected."

Colin was back on his feet now, he did his best thinking while he was on the move.

"The Winslow incident has all the hallmarks of someone trying to make their mark, likely a tinker of some kind that specialises in explosives. However, this is Brockton Bay and the only bomb tinker that we know of is from New York. Why would she come down here and destroy a school?"

Colin pulled out a piece of chalk from his suit, drawing on the blackboard behind him.

"The killing of Shadow Stalker was something that was clearly premeditated, they planned to kill her and her 2 friends and did it when all 3 were in bed at the same time. So it was not a single person who did it, but a group, one that someone tracked Shadow Stalker somehow and discovered her civilian identity before identifying her closest friends, and then killing them. This is far too deliberate and patient to be the same group that destroyed Winslow. This was done in cold blood. A message but for who?"

Colin drew another circle, it was a Venn diagram of sorts.

"Then the third group, one that is building a facility underneath Brockton that clearly employs more people than either group previously mentioned, is trying to keep themselves hidden from the world, and is planning their own debut in the near future if our guess is correct." Said Colin, drawing the third circle of his Venn diagram. None of the circles intersected.

"The only thing that ties them together is that they occurred within the last week. The motives behind each incident is completely different in every case. What exactly can we draw from this? It makes no sense Dragon."

Dragon was quiet, her own attempt at decoding the incidents likely taking her time.

"I don't know Colin, but I think you should prepare just in case the same group did all 3 incidents." She said, her voice definitive.

Colin nodded.

"Thanks, Dragon."

Have edited the 8 tunnels to 11, good pickup from the readers

Last edited: Nov 22, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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#18

Catherine D. Knight, Colonel of the Imperial Guard, 492nd Cadian Regiment stood before the Primarch at attention. Every fibre of her being in awe at the personification of the greatness of the Emperor, a personification that had personally called upon Catherine to do her duty and assist her in the conquest of this world.

The Primarch did not have her own Space Marines, it was understandable, the Imperial Guard were more than willing to do their part however. Catherine had been waiting for this opportunity since she had been called up and placed in stasis while the Primarch was growing into enough power that she could summon Catherine.

As it was, Catherine had been summoned her with her full Command Squad. There was her Master of Ordnance, her Naval Officer, her Vox Caster, her Tempestuous Scion bodyguard, and of course herself.

The only part about all of this that was not as great as she envisioned, was that she had been placed in charge of 385 Death Korps of Krieg infantry. Not including the 6 heavy weapons soldiers that had… disappeared somewhere, no doubt hugging their Heavy Bolters to sleep, the 4 Engiseers, the 5 Catachans, the Adeptus Sororitas, and the Primarch's biological father.

She had hoped that there would be other Cadians, but she could see why the Primarch had summoned the Kriegers first. They were invaluable when it came to fortifying a position, something that the infant Primarch desperately needed as she transitioned from mortal to divine. It appeared that she was ready to begin her conquest of the world, however, why else would she have summoned Catherine in the first place?

Catherine fully intended to obey and saluted before spinning and walking out of the room. She had in her enthusiasm missed her Primarchs words in their full, something that may have changed her course of action from direct combat to waiting and building up their forces. As it was Catherine was now working out the plans for the purge of the city known as Brockton Bay of the degenerate filth that inhabited it, heretics the lot of them. The civilians likely could be saved, but the gang members? They were too far gone, they needed to be purged for the good of the world.

Any who might resist the rule of the Primarch must be dealt with in the strictest of terms. There could be no possibility of dissent.

"The new Colonel… does she seem… right to you?" Sergeant Black asked Maxine as they two of them enjoyed what was likely their last peaceful cup of coffee on this planet.

On the subject of coffee, it was glorious. While they all had recaf at some point of the other, it could not compare to actual coffee, the taste, the smell, the feel on the tongue. It was just… mmmm. Superior.

Yes, it was superior.

If they could somehow smuggle a pack of the stuff back to the Imperium, they would probably be given a planet of their own for discovering such a vital new ingredient.

As it was, they were simply drinking the stuff and making every sip count. It was glorious.

"Yes. She seems very… ummm. Zealous?" Maxine said, a question at the end of her comment.

"Don't look at me, you're the Battle Sister." Black said, raising his hands away from him as he did so. It was best to avoid getting too close with a Sister that was both from the Orders Famulous and the Orders Hospitaller. A person that was both close to the Inquisition and their "methods" as well as one that knew the human body in extremely intimate detail. Something that would make even a Catachan tremble in fear, having your extremities lopped off for offending a Sister of Battle was not an uncommon occurrence after all.

"Yes. Funny. You can stop trying to escape now, I'm not as bad as my Sisters are." Maxine said, raising an eyebrow at him. It was a very pretty eyebrow Black thought, even as his other more sane self smacked him in the back of the head. Do you want your balls missing mate, she's a Sister of Battle, crazy bitches all of them.

"Riiight. I'm going to stay right here thank you very much. I like my bodyparts connected to my body. I'm rather attached to them you see." He replied, not edging away but not coming closer either.

"Ha. Ha. Yes, hilarious. I have not heard that one 50 times before. Tell me, is it standard training for all you Guardsmen to learn the same jokes?" She asked, exasperation on her face.

"Only the good ones." Black replied, grinning in spite of himself. One does not stick your dick in crazy. Oh right.

"Anyway back to the good Colonel, she is very… enthusiastic. One might say too enthusiastic. I believe it would be a good idea to see exactly what it is she is planning to do. It would not be a good idea to have her drag the Princess into anything because she went off prematurely." The last bit was said with a drawl and a particular look of the eye that had Black shrinking in on himself. He wasn't planning on sticking his dick in crazy, but the implied insult still hit hard.

"Emperor damn it! What in the 7 hells do you think you're doing?!" Shouted Sergeant Black.

"I am formulating a plan in which we can engage the enemy and secure this city for the Primarch." Said Colonel Knight, her voice filled with indignation. Catachans were notoriously anti-authority, but this was a bit much! If she had a commissar here, he would sort out the Catachan right quick.

"The Princess is trying to lay low! Going out right now is just going to expose her to danger. She's not even able to fight a human right now, and you want her to lead your glorious little charge into hell? The girl hasn't even killed anything before!" Black shouted, poking his finger in her face. Which was much more intimidating than it sounded, considering that Black was about a head and a half taller than her and nearly twice as broad.

"We are the Imperial Guard, there is nothing that we cannot defeat if we put our minds to it." Sniffed Colonel Knight, refusing to budge.

"We are the Imperial Guard, but this isn't the Imperium. We don't have regiments to call on for reinforcements if things go south. What we have here, is what we got. Those Kriegers? They are all we have!" Roared Black, trying to get her to face the facts. They didn't have tens of thousands of men to work with, not like back in the Imperium.

"300 men is more than enough to secure this city." She said. Still refusing to see his point.

"And what of the rest of this continent? They still have a ruling government here, with soldiers and heavy weapons. They have artillery and armoured vehicles Colonel, we don't have jack shit except a few Krak grenades and turrets inside this base." Black continued, mercilessly jabbing his point into her.

"The Primarch told me to!" Exclaimed Knight, bringing out her trump card.

"Did she now? Are you sure of that." Drawled Maxine, drawn in from the sidelines. If the Colonel had heard wrongly, she needed to be told now, if her student was foolish enough to order an attack with such limited forces… well, they would be having words. Not the pleasant kind either.

"Yes!"

"Um… Colonel." The Vox Operator spoke up, his face uneasy.

"What is it George, can't you see I'm busy here?" Knight tried to brush him away.

"Um… the Primarch just said that you should take command of the Kriegers and coordinate them better to take the load off their Platoon Commander that was in charge till now." Said George, pouring his words out in a rush.

"I… I…" Knight's face grew increasingly red at the revelation that perhaps she had gone off half cocked.

"Next time Colonel, I recommend listening to the Primarch in more detail. She is not what we are used to as Imperials." Said Maxine, kindly patting the sputtering Colonel on the shoulder.

"Then what do I do with all these plans?" Asked Knight.

"Please, continue with them. When the Primarch is strong enough to summon more troops, then we can look at them again and see about taking the city. Remember, we have an entire world to take Colonel. This city is just the first step and we don't have anyone else to call on to support us in this endeavour." Said Maxine, walking away. Black took a moment to appreciate the view before dragging his attention back to the despondent Colonel.

"Aye, it's not so bad. We all have the same problems once in awhile. Just make sure you pay attention to the wee girl and it's all going to be ok." Said Black, awkwardly patting her on the back before walking out again.

Following the informal reprimand, Colonel Catherine D. Knight worked with an increasing fervour to ensure that the facility was brought up to scratch. While the Kriegers were indeed masters of siege warfare, they often tended to repeat the same design over and over as they built, the same choke point being repeated ad infinitum, the same deathtrap corridors, the same turret placement, all of it being horrendously obvious to an attacker once they reached a certain point.

Catherine was going to change it up, make sure that the base was randomized enough that any attackers would need to slog through an ever changing set of defences, all the while fending off attacks from blind angles.

She hailed from Cadia after all, the home of the Kasrs, entire cities built and designed in such a way as to make the entire city a fortress. One that would be able to resist almost indefinitely against any kind of enemy, more commonly the Chaos raids and invasions that wracked the world on occasion.

Should a Kasr be attacked, they would need to first penetrate into the city through the walls, then they would need to navigate the mazes that were the streets of the city, while the defenders used shortcuts and murderholes to engage them as they tried to move. All the while artillery would be called upon their heads and airstrikes along perfectly planned road-lengths occurred with a mind numbing regularity.

While she did not have the same resources here as she did on Cadia, she did have the Kriegers who were masters of building defensive fortifications. One brainstorming session later (or rather she threw out ideas and the Kriegers said yes or no to the ideas), and she was ready with a plan for the most defensible base outside of a Space Marine's homeworld or Terra itself.

The design would incorporate a vast network of powered ramps, elevators, and stairs. All of it to both confuse the attacker, allow the defender swift movement through the facility, and most importantly, to prepare for the attack that would be happening soon. Catherine was still hopeful that she would be able to implement her plan to take the city in the near future, she didn't want her efforts to be wasted.

That and more importantly she didn't want to look like a fool in front of the Primarch and by extension the Emperor. She needed to prove herself and taking the city would do just that. Hopefully, the Primarch would remember her later and maybe even deign to talk to her on a casual basis.

For someone raised on Emperor worship, Catherine was very much someone who was rather star-struck when thinking about the Primarch. No doubt she would be in for a very nasty surprise once she discovered what the Primarch was actually like, but that was for another day. A day that did not include her being embarrassed by her failure, something she thought she had worked out of her system decades ago.

Catherine D Knight took the opportunity to squat in a corner and wallow in shame before continuing with her work.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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#19

93#8219 was finally relieved. He had Sergeant Black of the Catachan Jungle Fighters bring forth his concerns with the Princess and she had called in a Regimental command squad and several more Platoon Command Squads.

While the Regimental Commander was a Cadian, 8219 didn't hold that against the man/woman/thing. The Cadian did possess more tactical flexibility than the Kriegers, it was known.

And so it was that the Regimental Commander with her retinue of Commissar, Sanctioned Psyker and Tempestuous Scion bodyguard arrived and immediately set about ensuring the viability of the base itself.

While the Kriegers were masters of the defence and of fortifying positions, their expertise when it came to the attack was trench warfare and sieges. None of which was applicable here in this city where it was much more open than a Hive city's Underhive, not quite as open as an Agri World's fields.

They would be manoeuvring but had no chimeras or tauroxs to do it with. Standard doctrine no longer applied as they were forbidden from levelling the city with artillery as was standard.

Frustrating.

It was a good thing then that the Cadian officer was well versed in handling situations like this and formulated for them a plan of attack.

First, they would secure the area known as the Docks, a means of ensuring the enemy could not escape over the water. Second would be to fortify the area and dig in. Once they had sufficient numbers for an overwhelming rolling advance, they would take the city itself in one strike. It had been a month since the Colonel had arrived and they finally had the numbers for it. 3 prongs of Kriegers, surround and destroy.

While they did not have vehicles as of yet, the distance that they would be walking was rather short compared to that of a Hive city. Barely a few kilos when it came down to it.

The Princess had been convinced to call in several Grenadier Squads, Krieg Grenadiers. They would be leading the way, ready to tear apart anything in their way with liberal use of frag grenades and Hellgun Lasguns.

93#8219 was quite pleased with the way things had turned out. He had a superior officer again to point him in the direction of the enemy and leave him to worry about how to kill them. With bayonet and lasgun, but it was the choice that mattered. Maybe even a grenade if he was feeling generous.

He and his Platoon were ready, waiting at one of the ramps situated to the southern edge of the base. 55 Imperial Guardsmen, all ready to bring the fury of the Emperor upon his enemies. Or rather the fury of the Princess in this case.

5 infantry squads, 1 grenade launcher per squad, 1 flamer or plasma gun depending on their preferences and of course his Platoon Command Squad.

They all had Krak grenades as well as the standard frag. One of the factions present in the city had an Engiseer of some kind and they had to be prepared for her possible appearance. As much as #8219 would have preferred a Leman Russ, the battle tank was currently missing from their depots.

A molded skull had its eye sockets light up red. The light flooding the previously pitch black waiting area.

It was time.

The floor began to tilt upwards, joined by the ceiling doing the same. The ramp angled itself up, connecting to the outside world. The Kriegers didn't notice anything different really, their all purpose rebreathers giving them the same stale air as before.

And so they marched. There would be 10 squads left to defend the facility, the other 25 and their command squads were being deployed. The Docks would be theirs by the end of the night.

As they marched out of the ramp, #8219 reflected that it would be rather easy if things were as predicted. Unfortunately, it usually did not.

Flashes of light, beams of red cutting, the sky open.

The Imperial Guardsmen fired their Lasguns at the attacking filth. #8219 stared at them through the lenses of his respirator. They were madly rushing forward in what must have been a few dozen of them. It was enough to make them appear to be intimidating but in actuality caused them to suffer even more greatly than what would otherwise have occurred.

If they had not acted like cultists (without the pink and red and the moaning of pleasure), the Kriegers would have used their non-lethal stun setting on the advancing rabble. Instead, well honed reflexes ingrained in them over years of combat against the Great Enemy had them in firing positions, engaging the perceived cultists the second they came screaming at them.

Oh well. It would hopefully prove to be a lesson for those that came after. They picked their way through the bodies... or what was left of the bodies.

Hopefully. They resembled cultists in their drooling and failure to recognize superior forces, perhaps they would demonstrate the same level of suicidal insanity. One never knew when it came to cultists.

#8219 continued to fire at the next wave of Cultists, motioning for 1st squad to shift around the left flank near the water and encircle them. The faster they ended this, the faster they would be able to begin fortifying the position and maybe set up one of the heavy weapons teams to cover the long expanse of dock that was to their south. They did not have enough men to fully secure the entire docks as of yet, they would be leapfrogging south as soon as the fortifications of an area had been completed. They would leave a squad and move south, jumping over a currently fortifying platoon.

In this manner, they would be able to secure the Docks, hopefully by the end of the night. There were 5 platoons roughly, enough for them to wage a minor war should they so choose.

Behind him came the sound of a rocket of some kind. Turning #8219 looked at what appeared to be a construction frame, supported by 4 retro-rockets. In front of which stood an Engiseer, #8219 wasn't sure which one, they tended to look the same honestly.

It was a large construction, around the same height as he was and roughly twice his width, a turret of some kind most likely. The Engiseer began to chant and the entire system activated, small mechadendrites and mechanical arms emerging from the frame and pulling it so that each minor crate was in the correct orientation with the other crates. From there sounds of welding and riveting could be heard from inside, the entire turret being assembled from the parts dropped in a haphazard heap from the sky.

Once it was done, the outer frame fell away, revealing a pintle mounted multi-las mounted on a portable turret, the entire thing was quad-linked, all the better to destroy the enemy with overwhelming firepower.

It activated, the skull mounted in the center of the turret, nestled in the middle of the 4 multi-las barrels flashed red, the eyes lighting up. From there it flashed green, signalling that it identified #8219 as an ally, It flashed yellow again and swivelled to meet the cultists who were now dramatically reduced in number. Only 20 of them left at this point. The turret did not care and the 4 lasers fired in an alternating pattern, crack crack crack crack. The rate of fire was enough that #8219 could not differentiate between individual shots, neither could the cultists. They began exploding from left to right as the lasers caused the water in their bodies to vaporize, taking the flesh along with it. Given the rate of fire of the multi-las well, there wasn't anything left behind when it finally stopped firing, a bare 5 seconds after it had identified foes.

They had all been using very primitive sluggers of some kind, not able to pierce the coats that the Kriegers wore. Then again their coats were made with ceramite plates and kevlar sewn into them for added protection in the furious melee that was trench warfare. #8219 took a moment to admire the handiwork of the turret before turning back to his platoon, they needed his attention.

To #8219 rear, sides and front were the sounds of digging. The last of the cultist-alikes had been wiped out and the Kriegers were not digging in. Their entrenching tools making short work of the ceramite under their feet. Why it was that mere shovels could pierce ceramite did not enter #8219 head, it was just how the world should be. It certainly made sense did it not? Tool is plasteel, plasteel beats ceramite.

They were using the material to fill up sandbags which were being placed around the trench system that was being dug. It was not their best work, the entire thing being a haphazard stop-gap, but it would stop anything up to and not including a concentrated armoured assault. They didn't have the firepower at hand to engage one of those. The Kriegers were also refusing to question why it was that they were able to fill the sandbags with the ceramite, the sandbags acting as if they were actually filled with sand and not large pieces of hard rock-like substances. At the same time, where were they getting the sandbags from? The 55 of them had used most likely several hundred by this point and they were not wearing their standard issue marching packs.

It was a question that would be asked perhaps one day, a question that had a very simple answer (for them at least. Everything was "requisitioned". The turret from the sky, the sandbags, their seemingly limitless supply of ammunition, all of it was requisitioned. Simple really).

#8219 surveyed his domain and was pleased. Yes, this would do for a temporary installation.

Looking to his men, he motioned with his arm, an "advance" signal of a kind.

5th squad was left behind, they would be defending the position with the assistance of 2 more turrets that had been placed down by the Engiseer, a storm bolter turret and another multi-las turret. Any infantry and light armour assaults would be facing some very dangerous equipment.

In the time that the platoon had been digging and securing the area, 4 more platoons had leapfrogged past them, securing their areas and then fortifying just as #8219 platoon had been doing. Now it was their turn as they swiftly moved down the Docks, keeping away from the waters edge in case that Endbringer they had been briefed on showed up. It might not do anything, but there was always the chance that it would do something. It was best to play it safe and keep away from the water just in case.

As they moved down the sound of lasgun fire became more intense, the cracks of a single rifle intermingling with the sounds of several dozen more. The Kriegers were engaging a large force of some kind.

#8219 signalled the platoon to shift into a combat run, their bodies hunched over as to avoid being taken out before they reached the enemy. That would be particularly shameful. #8219 was very much willing to do all he could to avoid that particular problem, he had not completed his mission as of yet.

What greeted the platoon (minus a squad) was a partially dug in 4th platoon that was engaging what appeared to be a large contingent of cultists and a… tank of some kind. In all honesty, it looked more like a battlewagon that the Orks would consider to be an armoured vehicle. What was being displayed to them was the very height of crudeness, of failure one might say. It was what one might call a vehicle if they had no pride in their work or their abilities.

If the Engiseers saw it, they might go apoplectic with anger.

The burst of static behind #8219 told him that it was too late. The Engiseers had been refraining themselves admirably with all the tech heresy that the people of this planet practised, but what they were seeing was simply too much.

They were within optimal range to engage from, #8219 motioned to the platoon to take the right flank. They would concave the enemy and destroy them with superior firepower.

For the Princess.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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#20

Collin Wallis or rather Armsmaster was responding to a report that there was tinker tech weaponry being deployed in a gang fight at the Docks. Alongside him were the Wards, Clockblocker, Aegis, Vista, and Kid Win. There were senior PRT members as well, Velocity and Miss Militia for now a bit further behind but close. Assault and Battery were making their way over but it would be a while, their patrol had taken them to the West of the city, far away from the Docks where the incident was taking place.

Alongside the heroes was the Protectorate's response team, this one being made of regular unpowered humans but armed with their foam canisters and non-lethal weaponry.

It was hoped that it would be over by the time that they got there, but there was no guarantee, not if it was a fight between Tinkers. The report itself had been unclear, something about lots of lasers and a big ramshackle truck-like design.

The PRT had guessed that it meant that a new Tinker that was not Kid Win was fighting against the Merchants… and making enough of a noise to be heard from 3 blocks away. Armsmasters sped up his motorcycle, he would need to get there soon since it sounded far too much like it was an army of Tinkers and not just one.

He hoped that it was a new trigger, if he managed to recruit them into the Wards, it would be another mark next to his name for his promotion up the ladder.

As much as he hated the bureaucracy that was involved in his job, it was also necessary, the most efficient path to reach where he wanted to be, especially if he wanted to enact the changes that he considered to be necessary to the Protectorate. While he wasn't allowed to be part of the PRT itself, due to the clause of non-powered humans only, he would at least have enough influence to push through ideas through those who supported his ideas.

More automation, less officers being injured or dying in the line of duty to start off with, then possibly the capture of criminals without needing to risk anyone at all. He had seen too many PRT members going home, crippled, missing body parts, or just dead at the hands of super villains that used his jail cells as a hotel. It had eased when Panacea had begun to help, but it wasn't enough when they were already dead or traumatised due to their experiences.

Armsmaster shook off his thoughts, calling his primary halberd from its container at the rear of the motorcycle, cycling it to the standard cutting, stun setting. He didn't want to kill anyone unless he absolutely needed to.

Above him were Kid Win, Aegis, and Vista, travelling over the rooftops either by flying or running. Clockblocker was sharing Kid Win's hover board, there had been no time to find a more elegant solution to their problem, they had needed to be here and they needed to be there as soon as possible.

Luckily all of them had been on patrols in the area, making it a matter of just converging on the location that the incident had been reported at.

"Wards, do not engage unless I give the order. We don't know what power these lasers are at." Said Armsmaster, he did not need another dead Ward on his record. Even if they were under Piggot's authority, they were linked to him in the public consciousness. They had been able to hide Shadow Stalker's death, a transfer to another zone being the excuse, but one dying in public? That was another story altogether.

"Umm… Armsmaster? I don't think we need to guess how powerful their lasers are?" Said Aegis, sounding as if he were resisting the urge to vomit. Armsmaster sped around the last corner, it was uncharacteristic of the Ward and he wanted to be able to see what prompted such a… reaction.

Oh.

Armsmaster stared at what was very clearly a gang war of some kind. Only this one was of a scale that he hadn't seen before. Never before had he seen such a large number of Tinker tech weapons being used, there must have been dozens of laser weapons, all of them in the hands of gang members that all looked exactly the same.

They were firing en-mass into the Merchants who were now breaking and running. They were breaking because of the bodies that lay all over the docks, or rather what used to be bodies. Most of them were missing significant parts of their bodies, arms, legs, chests, heads… charred skin being all that was left. To add to the gore, there was what was very clearly the remnants of these body parts smeared all over the pavement of the Dock area, something Armsmaster was very familiar with, being there when Kid Win's designs had been tested on gelatin. The resulting smears were similar but not the same.

Why?

Oh. The body fat. It rendered when the body was cooked at high temperatures and when it landed on the… no. He didn't need to think about it.

Armsmaster's eyes were then drawn to the remnants of what looked like Squealer's truck. Remnants because it was on fire with what looked like small fist sized holes all over its chassis. What could have caused… HEAT warheads. Jets of molten metal punching through… military weapons.

As he walked forward to try and perhaps talk to the new gang, an attempt to arrest them when he was at a numerical disadvantage and they had several dozen lethal weapons, was not a good idea. Some people said that Armsmaster was a glory hound, while this was true, it did not mean he was stupid. He was good, just not take on… 30 men at the same time good.

Something to his right caught his eye, however, looking more closely he took a deep breath. Instinctual really. Squealer and Skidmark were lying to the left of the truck, or rather what was left of Squealer and Skidmark, their lower halves having been burnt or lasered to ash.

Placing his halberd behind his back, Armsmaster walked over to them in the universal sign of peace, both hands in the air to the sides of his head.

"I would like to talk to your leader." He said, reading off the prompt that popped up on his HUD. Dragon really was the kind of girl to help a guy out in a pinch. While he didn't enjoy having to be nice and dare he say it… polite to this new gang that was killing the first time they had been out, he accepted that it was necessary if he wanted to survive and perhaps meet with their leader to discuss what was going on.

If a new gang was showing up and throwing around its weight, there was going to be retaliation from the other gangs, well the ABB and E88 at this point, the Merchants were finished with Skidmark and Squealer gone, Mush being unable to lead anything except his feet.

The gang members, they looked more like soldiers than anything else, looked up at him and even as he analysed them with his eyes, his helmet was recording everything he saw and streaming it to Dragon and the PRT headquarters. If he was killed, they needed to know everything they could about this new threat.

The soldier was wearing a gas mask of some kind, the hose emerging from the mouth and entering their greatcoats. They had pouches on them, likely ammunition for their laser weapons, and a few had what looked like energy weapons and grenade launchers. A few even had… flamethrowers. Flamethrowers that were shooting out flames even hotter than what an amped up Lung could put out (to be put in possible tinker technology). Flamethrowers they were now using on the bodies of the fallen merchants, burning and melting their remains.

The one he had spoken to, jerked his (her?) head to Armsmaster's left before pointing her arm at the building behind him, which he took as his cue to get moving. Back the way he came to wait at the wall it was. In the event that things went wrong, he had his motorcycle trail him on silent mode parallel to him on the road behind the warehouses. Glancing to the left, he could see the silhouettes of what looked like Vista and Clockblocker vomiting on the roof while Aegis wiped his mouth. If there was anything wrong, he needed the Wards out of here, he could break through and escape into the warehouses behind, but they were silhouetted against the night sky.

It might not matter, however if they were indeed lasers, they were going to hit instantly… well, almost instantly.

Armsmaster had been to numerous Behemoth fights and had seen similar before, the Wards however, had not. He shook his head, some things he would have preferred they not need to see ever, but this was a very cruel world that they lived in.

Activating his sub-audible microphone with a press of a pad on his wrist, he began transmitting.

"Armsmaster to all Protectorate Forces and Heroes, stay away from the docks. The new force has lethal tinker tech weaponry and they have shown their willingness to use it." He said, using the vibrations of his throat to pass the message without vocalising it. It would be particularly bad if the soldiers took offence to him transmitting a message and shot him.

As he waited near the docks, his scans of the area, accomplished by turning his head left and right, spotted some rather… strange devices. They looked to be turrets of some kind, but they had skulls on them, skulls and eagles and other iconography that he had never seen before. Things became even more confusing when he spotted a robed figure chanting in some mutilated version of binary at the turrets, worse still, the turrets responded to him. Was that their tinker?

Armsmaster was about to try and talk with the Tinker when the figure was joined by 3 others, all wearing the same robes, some with metallic tentacles coming out from under the robes, others with what looked like large cogs mounted as axes. His scans registered the axes as having a strange energy source of some kind surrounding them, one that was visible with the naked eye if he was watching closely, a kind of blue shimmer.

Armsmaster felt like he was being dragged into a strange reality where things no longer made sense. What was going on here that there would be people willing to augment themselves to such an extent? Why were all the soldiers wearing gas masks, why were they digging trenches with shovels… in solid concrete. How were they doing that? Shaker ability of some kind? But all of them triggering with the same power? Impossible.

The shovels? They were from what he could see a composition of steel that used an unknown ingredient in the mix, but even then, they shouldn't be able to cut through concrete like that.

As Armsmaster waited, his back against the wall he hoped that those watching the footage were as confused as he was. What made matters worse was that his power worked, but it said things that basically said "as efficient as possible", except when he was looking at the robed figures. They had shown up as wildly inefficient, almost criminally so. But the standard weapons they were using? Those were showing up as extraordinarily efficient, attempting to change them would actually only have minute changes in the efficiency of the weapons themselves. While he could change the casings and play around with the externals, there was nothing he could do to the innards.

The glowing energy weapons, however? Those were another level of inefficient, so much so that he was wondering how they even operated at all. It was the opposite scale of their laser weapons, this one seemingly actively trying to kill the users.

Armsmaster kept waiting, shifting minutely to ease the pressure on his shoulders, it looked like the only one that was dressed differently was going to be his meeting. He spotted what looked like a woman walking towards him, her dress very different from the standard ones. Stranger, still she didn't wear a mask, wasn't she aware of the unwritten rules?

"Greetings citizen, I am Colonel Catherine D Knight of the Princess's Personal Guard. You are the one known as the Arms Master are you not? Defender of justice?" Said the woman. A rather average height woman with red hair, pale skin, dressed in what looked to be body armour like what one might find in the military with a corget that crackled with energy, a sword at her waist, a boxy pistol device opposite that, a long coat covering her shoulders, knee high boots… like a Nazi. The strangest thing about her was her eyes, they glowed with a purple light of some kind, constantly changing pattern. He would have to get himself checked in for Master/Stranger Protocols.

She looked like a Nazi actually, the historical kind, not the recent thuggish ones.

Armsmaster could feel a headache coming on. This wasn't his area of expertise. Maybe he should wait for Miss Militia to arrive, she would know what to say.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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#21

"Yes, I am Armsmaster. What are you doing here?" Came the voice of Armsmaster from the speakers.

"Ok, pause the video." Came the voice of Director Emily Piggot. Her voice tired, her posture drooping slightly. Staying up this late, having to undergo forced dialysis, having to deal with Armsmaster, all of it added up over time.

"Armsmaster… what are you doing?" She asked, staring at the figure of the Hero to her right, the conference table arranged so that she would be at the head (naturally), while the adult heroes sat to her right and the Wards to the left. Directly opposite her, at the other end of the table was the projector that was currently showing Armsmaster's attempts to open talks with this new faction that loved their skulls, their eagles, the colour gold, had tinkertech weapons and was very willing to kill.

"I was attempting to talk peacefully to the leader of the new faction." He replied.

"And you did so by ignoring social conventions and directly asking her without attempting to build trust?" Piggot asked, her voice having given up the pretence at being angry, now she was just tired.

"It was the most efficient manner to interrogate her." Was his reply.

Piggot sighed.

"Does she answer any of your questions?" Piggot finally asked, hand wearing a furrow in her temple, she would kill herself by burrowing all the way into her skull at this rate.

"No." Armsmaster's reply was rather blunt.

"Miss Militia, you were next on the scene correct?"

"Yes. I arrived approximately 5 minutes after this point in the recording." She replied, her scarf had been pulled down, revealing her face to the assembled heroes, young and old.

"Ok, Assault, skip 5 minutes forward please." Piggot said.

"Gotcha boss."

"Without the snark?"

"Wilco boss lady."

Piggot let out a long suffering sigh before turning back to the projector, ignoring Assault for her own mental safety.

As the video skipped, this Catherine D Knight as she called herself stayed in the general area, no doubt waiting for a proper negotiator to arrive, but still ordering about the soldiers in the area. Still, her introduction as being a protector to a Princess told Piggot that there was someone higher up the chain that she was. Considering that Armsmaster tagged 100 gang members by visual sight alone with an estimated 200 involved in the attack… well, they were facing what was very clearly a large and organized force.

Especially damning since none of the actual soldiers talked once it seemed. The transcripts she skimmed over certainly lacked any mention of their speech.

The sound of footsteps filled the room as Miss Militia made herself known, her camouflage clothing and star spangled scarf around her neck.

"Good evening, I am Miss Militia, may I ask who you are?" She opened, immediately setting the other woman at ease, a miracle compared to the difference in her posture to Armsmaster and that of Miss Militia.

"I am Captain Catherine D Knight, Princess Royal Guard, Regimental Commander." She said, offering a salute to the rather bemused Miss Militia who returned it.

"So Captain, what is going on?" Miss Militia asked, waving her arm at the fortifications that were going up at a rather… impressive pace. What was a few trenches a few minutes ago had transformed into an area of land covered in barbed wire, sandbags, bunkers, turrets of all sizes, some of them were laying what was very clearly mines into the concrete.

All of this was happening without a sound besides that of shovels being shoved into sand, something that confused Piggot as there was only concrete there under them.

"We are securing this area of land in preparation for our next push into the city of Brockton Bay." Said the Captain rather straightforwardly, no attempts at deflection at all.

"Why?" Asked Miss Militia, her voice filled with a sort of bemused befuddlement. She hadn't seen the bodies as of yet, her opinion still mostly positive.

"To expel and destroy the filth that inhabit this city. To return it to a status that befits its role as a home to the Princess." Said the Captain.

"Filth?" Miss Militia was less amused now.

"Yes, the filth. The degenerates that call themselves the "gangs" of this city. In a time when humanity is beset on all sides by a foe greater than their comprehension, they instead seek to gain power, lord it over others and abuse others.

They are traitors to the human race and must be dealt with accordingly." Finished Captain Knight, her gaze straight into Miss Militia's own. Eyes that were looking at the Captain like she was a crazy person.

"You spoke of a Princess, who is she to you?"

"She is the embodiment of the God Emperor of Mankind manifested into human form." Said Captain Knight, her face perfectly straight despite what had just come out of her mouth.

"God Emperor of Mankind?" Asked Miss Militia slowly.

"Yes, by fate the God Emperor of Mankind has noticed your world and has deemed it worth saving. We will deliver it from the mutant, the heretic, and the xeno before returning it to the fold of the Imperium." Said the Captain, once again her voice was completely straight, no quiver present at all.

"If you are from another world, how did you get here?" Asked Miss Militia. Their walk had taken them on a course that passed the Dock Worker's Union building, a checkpoint of some kind had been set up in front of it. The dock workers looked rather bemused but they were presenting their identification and being let inside without a fuss.

"We were summoned through by the Princess." Said the Captain.

"Summoned? Does this mean she has control over you?"

"No, she is the Princess and so we obey, but we do not do so because we are controlled. She is the Emperor's daughter and so we obey."

"She summoned you on her own?"

"No, we were sent through by the Emperor, the Princess merely stabilizes the portal."

"And your weapons?"

"Standard issue. Every Imperial Guardsman has one of these or one like it." She replied.

"Well, enough questions, we must cut this short, we have new orders." Said Captain Knight, turning and her clenched fist slamming into her chest in salute. "It was nice talking to another soldier, perhaps next time we can talk at greater length." Said Knight in parting.

The last Armsmaster's helmet camera caught of the woman was of her disappearing into one of the trenches, trenches that were now deep enough to hide a fully grown person… in concrete… on the docks.

Piggot shook her head.

"Ok, so what do we have on them." She asked to the table. Primarily directed at Armsmaster and his contact with Dragon, but she was open to ideas. They had too few of them as it was.

"That's fucking Warhammer 40k." Shouted Clockblocker, his voice quivering with excitement.

"What?" Was Assault's reply.

"It's an Earth Aleph game."

"40k?"

"A game?"

"I don't remember any games called 40k in the public room?"

The voices inundated the young Ward, not that it mattered, he was quivering with an ungodly level of excitement. Or should he say… heretical level of excitement.

"Clockblocker!" Came the shout. He jerked and looked to his right, Piggot was staring at him. Not in the "you're awesome" kind of way, but the "if you don't tell me what is going on right now, I'll destroy your soul" kind of way. He quivered slightly and sat back down, lowering his arm while he did it.

"Explain." She said.

He looked left and right, thinking quickly as he did so.

"Ummm. Can I use the internet? It's easier if I do." Clockblocker said, his voice meek for once. This was his big chance, he wasn't going to waste it.

"What would you need the internet for?" Piggot asked, rather suspicious. Clockblocker felt offended, she didn't have to look like he was going to use his newfound internet access to do nefarious things. Nevermind that he had played pranks on them before, but this was different. This was Warhammer 40k, grimdark that made the Endbringers look fluffy by comparison.

"It's hard to explain. Ummm. Warhammer's been around for like 40 years now, there's a lot of history behind it." He said, waving his hands around to indicate the right amount of scale. It wasn't working very well if Piggot's face was any indication, but the adult heroes looked interested.

"So this Princess of theirs is some kind of master?" Piggot fiddled with the keyboard that was built into her desk.

"I'm not sure, how can we even tell at this point? Besides, they mentioned that the God Emperor sent them through, so that means they must be legit right?" Clockblocker was grinning widely as he thought of what the future could bring. Space Marines? Yes, please. He always wanted to be one of these and he was just outside the maximum age to become one, he might be able to persuade them to turn him into a post-human weapon of pure awesomeness!

"How is this in any way relevant?" She asked, staring at him again.

"Ummm. I don't know where to start?"

"At the beginning."

"Ummm. It's going to be pretty long, is that ok?" Clockblocker feebly raised his hand, he didn't want to be lectured again.

"Yes yes. Get started." Piggot waved him to start.

"So ummm. Warhammer 40k is a futuristic grimdark kind of setting. It started out as a table top game for Games-Workshop's Warhammer Fantasy, but then sort of evolved into its own thing. Now it has had like 40 years of stories and setting fleshed out and like lots of different factions all doing their own thing." Clockblocker began.

"Chances are she's a master then?" Asked Triumph.

"Let him finish," Piggot said, leaning forward on the table.

"So yea, it will take all night if I try and explain it from the beginning, but we can sort of look at the Imperium which is sort of relevant to what's going on. Ummm. Sort of have to give some background too so you can sort of understand where this is all going."

"Just how big is this thing?" Asked Aegis.

"40 years of stories, new settings and plot progression big."

"Anyway, so the setting. It's basically take everything, and make it super grim and dark, grimdark. Like Endbringers are probably a low class threat in the 40k universe for example. [He ignored the looks of shock on the faces of the Wards, usually, he would be teasing them, but this was too important!] Basically, we have the Imperium of Man which is full of humans, they have like a million worlds and quadrillions of people. They have the Imperial Guard which is their general army, which are the guys that were on Armsmaster's helmet cam. Only there was a Cadian there too… but that's for later!

"Anyway, the Imperium of Man used to rule over the entire galaxy, but something big happened and they collapse and there was a massive warp storm that shut off all space travel and communication after the Eldar had so much sex they created a new God."

"Wait. Wait. What?" Assault held up a hand. "Explain that first. Sex makes Gods?"

"Oh right, it sounds weird when you say it out loud. So the 40k universe has 2 realities that are connected to each other. It's not Bet and Aleph, the Immaterium and the Materium are linked to each other, what happens in one has an effect in the other. The Immaterium is basically all the emotions and psychic presence of all living things in the galaxy. So if you feel really happy, on the other side there's a little ripple right? So when there's an entire race of like trillions of space elves having murder sex, there's a really big ripple. And when they had enough of it, they created a new God that lives in the Warp, that's the other name of the Immaterium. The 4 Chaos Gods are just collections of certain emotions and feelings. They represent ideals.

"Like Khorne is the warrior, likes chopping heads off, Nurgle is disease and rot, Tzeentch loves to plot and do magic, and Slaanesh is all about pleasure. Other races have their own Gods too, like the Orks have Gork and Mork. Anyway, the Warp is what the people of the 40k universe use to travel around the place, they dive into it from the Materium and come out the other side, it's their version of FTL. So when Slaanesh was born, there were massive Warp Storms that meant nobody could travel, and nobody could communicate either. So the human empire sort of just fell apart." As he talked, he could see that a few of the Wards had already become lost.

"So that was like 15,000 years ago. About 10,000 years ago, a guy called the Emperor came out of nowhere and started uniting humanity on Terra, we, the, you know, fandom think that Terra is Earth. But in order to unite Earth he has to make an army of super soldiers. Like if we used numbers, they would be like Mover 7, Brute 7, Thinker 4 and there were like millions of them." There were looked of horror at that, if the Princess could summon just 3 or 4 of those… they were going to have a very bad time in the future, they were sure of that.

"Anyway so he unites Earth and then kills off all his super soldiers and makes new ones that are like Mover 6, Brute 6, Thinker 3. They're worse but follow orders better. Anyway, he makes his new army and then goes out and conquers lots of worlds in the Great Crusade that took like 300 years or something. But before he goes, he goes to the Chaos Gods and then tricks them and steals their power to make 20 children that he called Primarchs. They're all like Mover 10, Brute 10, Thinker 10, some of them even have Shaker and Master powers. Anyway, the Chaos Gods grab the baby Primarchs and throw them all over the galaxy for the Emperor to find.

"So he goes on his crusade and he's leading armies that keep growing, like billions of them. And they all have super weapons. Like laser guns are actually the standard weapon and are really weak compared to everything else in the 40k universe."

"Weak. You're saying lasers that explode people in a single shot are weak?"

"Yup. The super soldiers I mentioned earlier are called Primarchs and they wear Power Armour that's kind of like Armsmasters but even stronger! They can get shot hundreds of times and nothing happens unless they aim for a weakpoint."

A few of them looked stunned at that.

"So they go and reconquer like most of the galaxy and find lots of humans again. The problem is that half of the Primarchs betray him, bring their armies back to Terra and try to kill him. But the Emperor like destroys Horus', (he's the biggest one) soul but is nearly killed. So they put him on the Golden Throne so he can power the Astronomicon and also be kept alive at the same time. And it's been like 10 thousand years since he was put on the throne. The whole time the Imperium's sort of gone super fascist. Like the Nazis but they are racist to aliens and mutants. So that's like the super condensed version but you can like totally do your own research if you want, it's all on the internet." Clockblocker finished.

"And how do you know that this is all relevant?" Piggot asked, raising her eyebrow. The story had certainly been on the fantastical side and she really wanted it to be wrong. A master that could summon super soldiers that were better than half their heroes in strength? She didn't want to imagine what that would look like.

"Ummm. Can you give me the computer? I'll show you." Clockblocker said.

"Yes yes. Here it is." Piggot pressed a button and a holographic computer keyboard and mouse stuck up out of the table in front of him.

"Awesome."

"Yes yes. Get on with it."

"Ok… so let's start at the beginning." Clockblocker mumbled, manipulating the controls so Armsmaster's helmet cam footage was where he first saw the soldiers.

"Ok, so those things they have in their hands? Those are lasguns. Here, let me bring up a drawing. Clockblocker searched for the Lexicanum page for Lasguns and showed both of them side by side. See? They're the same." He said, showing everyone in the room the similarities. By zooming in on the closest soldier's lasgun, he showed that they were indeed extremely similar.

"And then there's these guys, they're called the Death Korps of Krieg. Like super brainwashed, suicidal guys that aren't even given names since they all die really quickly anyway." Clockblocker said, doing the same as with the lasguns, bringing up a page where the Death Korps of Krieg's real life variant was situated next to the one on the Lexicanum page. Both hat the distinctive respirators, the grey clothing, and were extremely dour and barely ever spoke.

"Then there's these guys. They're called the Adeptus Mechanicus, and they handle all of the technology in the Imperium since if you handle technology wrong, it can explode on your if you don't make its "machine spirit" happy." Clockblocker skipped forward until he saw the robed figures hunched over the little turret. "The little tentacles things are called mechadendrites and they can do everything. Like, stick a gun on it, or a welding torch, or a wrench. They connect them to their bodies and like try to replace all their organs with metal." A few of them looked a little sick at that.

"You can tell it's Imperium stuff since everything has eagles and skulls on it. Here look on the turret, on the axe things they have, on the lasguns, on some of their helmets…" Clockblocker zoomed into each little example as he continued. "They really love their skulls and eagles in the Imperium, it's on all of their stuff, even their ships and houses."

"Then there's these guys. The one that Armsmaster was talking to was a Cadian. They have purple eyes since they live so close to the Eye of Terror. Their armour is like the standard design for all Imperial guard stuff. She even has the personal shield that officers wear."

"Ok… so either we're looking at someone that's outfitted a gang to look exactly like this 40k stuff and a tinker that has a 40k focus, a Master that can summon these 40k guys along with all their weapons, or this God Emperor dude has like sent them across into our universe for shits and giggles." Drawled Assault, leaning against Barricade as he spoke, trying to provoke her into prodding him or something.

"Why did I get up this morning." Moaned Piggot.

Spoiler: AN

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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Threadmarks Interlude 03

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#22

Missy Biron, known as Vista, her Ward name was walking home from school. Or rather she was putting off the walk home until she was sure her mother had stormed out of the house and she would sneak in, grab a change of clothes and make her way over to Protectorate ENE Headquarters, the big building that was home to the local Wards as well as the Protectorate. While inside, she was essentially free of the problems at home, could see Gallant or rather Dean in his civilian identity.

Inside it wasn't that bad, it had food, a television, videogames, a small library and all the little things that made life easier when one was isolated from the rest of the world. Missy felt a little bug trapped in a cage. She was only a Ward since it had given her an escape from the life at home, one that was so tense that if she used her powers, it would probably snap and kill them all. Almost reality warping to the scale of her power, only in terms of emotions instead of physical changes.

The second reason she was with the Wards was that she could see Dean on a regular basis, both in school and while she was at the Protectorate's HQ. Those were the only real perks really, the presence of Shadow Stalker had killed her motivation of being part of the team before this point, despite the fact that Shadow Stalker was nothing but meat if Vista really wanted to use her powers. She hadn't, she had wanted to be part of the group, to belong and that had backfired. It was a good thing that the rest of them hated Shadow Stalker being around as well, enough that Missy hadn't felt the urge to leave the Wards and remained.

Now that Shadow Stalker was dead, however… well, it made things easier but it didn't alleviate her other frustrations. That of the fact that she was so very capable compared to the rest of them, she had been a Ward longer than any of them and yet due to her age, was relegated to support duties. If she really wanted, she could take any of them on… well maybe not Aegis, his healing abilities meant she would be tired out long before she could beat him into the ground. But it was the thought that counted.

And so it was that Missy Biron was walking over to the shopping mall, ready to waste a few hours before walking home and then to the Protectorate HQ. She didn't have any patrols until later that night, so she had time to kill. Metaphorically that was, she left the real time killing to Clockblocker.

Missy had to make sure that she watched where she was going. Being 12 didn't have to mean that you were short, but in her case it certainly did. She barely reached the chests of most average height people and it was frustrating in the extreme. She had to give way and that meant her journey through the city was one where she was constantly weaving in and out of foot traffic, constantly having to give way, her height an enemy, her inability to use her powers a frustration.

Missy growled under her breath, this wasn't what she needed right now. She wanted to do some window shopping, maybe forget the mess that was her life at this moment in time, and she really wanted to not be giving way to all these normal fucking people. Didn't they know all that she did for them? The wounds she had taken? The effort that she had gone to keep them safe, to let them walk around with their heads in the clouds, instead of cowering away from the Empire or the ABB?

Missy felt part of her frustration rise to the surface again, knowing that she was so capable, knowing what her powers meant, knowing that she could be doing so much more. Knowing that she would be stuck behind every time regardless, that her teammates couldn't appreciate her abilities, thinking that she was less than capable, that she was unable to contribute in a real fight. That she was a tiny little girl. Her mind spat out the word with all the vehemence that she could muster.

She took a deep breath, this wasn't what she was meant to be doing, the counsellor she was seeing because of her parent's divorce, and unofficially because having a Ward breakdown was very bad publicity, had said she needed to channel her anger in some way. Only Shadow Stalker was dead, so she couldn't break her fists in that smug bitch's face, and the punching bags at the Protectorate HQ were off limits. She didn't want Dean to see her crushing the bags, it would probably scare him off. She hadn't given up hope, once Glory Bitch dumped him, she would be ready to catch him (with her powers), and give him all the tender attention he deserved.

But right now? Right now she needed something to ease her frustrations. Window shopping wasn't going to cut it anymore, she needed something more substantial. She couldn't even find and use a thug as stress relief, she wasn't allowed to go on solo patrols since it was so dangerous. She sneered as she thought of the condescending way that Piggot had said that. Stupid bitch didn't know what Missy could do, and she couldn't show them. Not unless she wanted to out herself as a girl that really really needed to beat someone down in front of Dean.

She was acting like an innocent and nice girl, a very nice girl, one that was all sunlight and rainbows and spring blossoms in front of the Wards, couldn't have word of her real personality leaking out now could she? That would defeat the purpose of lying about her motivations and actual personality in the first place. She wasn't stupid, not like that bitch Shadow Stalker. Making everyone hate you was the most stupid thing she could have done, people that actually liked you would be more willing to help, more willing to do something to find her killer. As it was, the cursory investigation had shown up with nothing and it was going to continue showing nothing, nobody liked her enough to put effort into it. The officials might, but the Wards weren't.

Maybe… just maybe. Ah.

A sign caught her eye, that was new.

It was a martial arts dojo of some kind, "Jungle Fighting 101". That sounded completely ridiculous, but if it had some sandbags she could punch, maybe she could join up and ignore the idiots who ran it and just hit things until it was time to leave for the Protectorate HQ and her mission.

Yes, this was a good idea.

Missy headed into the place, itself just a plain white building that still had a sign from the previous store hanging in front of it. "Dimma's Chicken" in bright neon lights. Or rather dull neon lights, the power hadn't been turned on, logical really. Missy had never actually been inside, but apparently it hadn't been so bad in there.

The Jungle Fighting sign hung in front of the store, a little piece of cloth with the words painted vertically on it right over the entrance. It had been hard to read the words, whoever wrote them did so with the shakiest handwriting, or rather hand painting skills she had ever seen. Even she could do better.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to go inside to have a look.

Missy walked in and was greeted by a man who wasn't wearing a shirt. A man that… was fucking ridiculous. What the actual fuck.

Missy could only stare at him, spellbound. Her crush on Dean had taken a bit of a hit, the man in front of her must have been 2 meters tall and had the most well developed and toned muscles she had ever seen. His entire body must have been just pure muscle, but it wasn't overdone, all of it looked like it was naturally part of his body. Every bit of skin was tight, showing the individual sinews of the muscles if she looked closely enough, the lack of hair on his chest showing those absolutely delicious pectorals.

She was 12, but she was in the middle of puberty (why else would she be crushing on the boy wonder Dean?), but this… this blew the competition out of the water. Missy took the chance to discretely check out the rest of him, taking her mind off his absolutely amazing chest for a second and was disappointed to see that his legs were covered by what looked like military fatigues. Sort of like what Miss Militia wore, but these looked a lot thicker than the stuff Miss Militia did. As if they were designed for actual Jungle Fighting.

"What can I do for you girl?" Came the voice, and oh my. That was the deepest and sexiest voice she had ever heard, even Armsmaster going on 60 hours without sleep didn't compare. The way it rumbled just shook all of her bones just the right way.

Vista decided then and there that she would be signing up for this place, actual capabilities of the instructors and their stupid sign be damned. She was a girl that needed some time to relieve herself of the stress that came from living with a family on the brink of open warfare, of being in a team where she had to hide her true bloodthirsty, cuss mouthed real persona behind that of a sweet summer child. She deserved something to ease that stress, and if it was as harmless as ogling a few good looking, or rather fantastic looking men, she was all for it.

"Well, what is this place?" She asked, putting on her air of innocence. She didn't need to show her true self, not just yet at any rate.

"The sign on the door says it all." He replied. He walked over to her, from around the desk (she had been using her powers to ogle at him), and pointed over her head, lording his height over her. Then again he would be lording his height over everyone he was that tall.

"Jungle fighting 101?" Vista raised her eyebrows at that. "What does that even mean?" She asked, putting as much questioning in her tone of voice as she could.

"It means we teach you how to fight in a jungle." He replied, answering her own eyebrow with his own.

"There aren't any jungles in America, what is the point of learning to fight in a jungle when it's not applicable?" Missy asked, using some big words to test just how smart he was. Or rather testing if he knew the words at all, it was ok if he didn't, dumb tall muscle hunks were the same as smart tall muscle hunks.

"Skills transfer girly, a jungle of wood is the same as a jungle of concrete when it boils down to it." He replied, lifting an eyebrow at her.

Missy felt the urge to retort that a city was in no way similar to a Jungle, that was one of the most ridiculous, things she had heard. It was up there with the poetry that some idiots used to try and get Glory Bitch's attention.

"Well if I sign up now, when can you get started teaching me and how much does it cost for a lesson?" She asked, her allowance from the Wards would let her afford this, assuming it wasn't ridiculous. Then again given their sign, it was highly likely it wasn't expensive at all.

"$50 a month, we can get started right now." He replied, grinning at her. Like he thought she wouldn't be able to handle it.

Missy glared at him, she hated being looked down on. Literally and metaphorically, she was going to make him regret eyebrowing her.

"Done. Let's get started!" Missy said, pulling out a $50 note from her backpack and slapping it on the desk to her right.

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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Threadmarks Interlude 04

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#23

Missy Biron panted, her breath coming out and in with short and sharp bursts. When she had first decided to come here, she had thought it wasn't going to be that bad, oh boy was she wrong. So terribly wrong.

The only thing keeping her going right now was the overriding desire to make Fred eat his shit eating grin. The way he grinned at her as she did the circuits he said were necessary, the way he implied that she couldn't handle the training, the way he acted so superior to her. So frustrating!

Missy had therefore thrown herself into the training regime that Fred had laid out for her after she had gotten herself "tested" as he called it. Missy had called it torture, the way she had to run laps, sprinting after him as he made a pace that would have made Armsmaster jealous. The way he had done it running backwards and smiling at her the entire time.

They had run for an hour, something that Missy was only able to keep up with because of her Wards training. Even then it was a close thing, she had very nearly keeled over more than once during the run. The next parts were even more ridiculous, she was taken out the back and expected to make her way around an obstacle course, one that was going to be incredibly difficult given that her legs had surrendered and were asking her to shoot them, put them out of their misery.

The way they were wobbling caught his eye and his grin widened even further if that was possible, indeed it was possible, she was going to be seeing that grin many times over the next few weeks. It had given her the drive she needed to complete the obstacle course, swearing at him in her mind, the desire to prove that she could do it driving every action as she pushed her body to the very limits that it could go, her stubborn determination and her desire to prove him wrong, propelling her past those very same limits.

Missy Biron was not going to lay over and die because of a little challenge, she was going to kick its balls so hard that they came out of its mouth and died in agony. Missy Biron was not the youngest and oldest of the Wards for no reason. Missy Biron had sewed shut her own wounds because she was a tough bitch and didn't need any Panacea to heal her. Missy Biron could do this, Missy Biron was going to do this.

Without her powers, not even a little bit, Missy made her way around the obstacle course, the entire thing had taken her 30 minutes and by the time she was done, her arms were feeling the same agony as her legs, as was her stomach muscles, as was her back. In fact, the only part of her body that was not in agony was her forehead, she hadn't needed to use those muscles except to frown. Speaking of frowns, her cheeks were feeling tired, the perpetual frown she had worn had exercised those as well apparently.

As she lay panting in exhaustion, Fred loomed over her and laughed.

"Passable." He said.

Fucking passable, and what? He could have done that better? Fucking. Bullshit.

Missy Biron was not willing to listen to reality at that moment in time, she had worked her ass off and this fucker told her that it was "passable?" She would see what was passable when she made him punch his own balls.

"Watch girly." There it was again! Girly, she was Missy, she had a name. Only stuck up little bitches liked being called girly and she was certainly no stuck up little bitch. She was a hard bitch, the kind that could shank you and laugh about it afterwards. Not that she had ever shanked anyone, and now that she thought about it, laughing about it was probably the last thing on her mind if she did in fact, shank someone.

Still, she was a hard bitch, she just knew it.

Missy propped herself on her elbows, looking at Fred as he… danced his way through the obstacle course. Every movement one that was done with the least amount of possible movement, his body contorting into shapes that should have been illegal for someone his size to fit into, his every movement graceful, sexy.

She temporarily forgot her pain as she watched him complete what had taken her half an hour in 5 minutes, not even a drop of sweat on his face.

That was incredibly sexy she thought to herself.

It didn't mean that she enjoyed his grin however, that thing had to go as soon as possible. She was not going to accept being second place, not here, not now. She had accepted it as part of the Wards, she needed to uphold an image after all. But here? Here there was nobody she knew, nobody that would care except for Fred and he was disconnected from her circle entirely. If she wanted to swear and let loose a little, well it wasn't like he was going to object.

Probably.

Who knew what he was like, but if she wanted to just quit afterwards, it would be a simple matter of just not turning up for the next lesson… or torture session.

"Well girly, I can say without a doubt. That you are the most… [Missy held her breath at that, she knew what was coming on some fundamental level, but she still hoped for something different] disappointing performance I have ever seen on the Mk 3 obstacle course. But! That's not your fault, you've been raised soft girly. You want to be strong like Fred here, you gotta put in the effort. Come back tomorrow and I'll have a plan worked out for you. Now get! You need some sleep or you're going to keel over." He said, grinning at her the entire time. She could feel the smugness radiating off him.

Damn him.

The most words that she had ever heard him say in actuality. Missy took off her borrowed clothes in the little changeroom that they had, took a brief shower and made her way out. She was going to be leaving, she was going to come back. She was going to make him eat his words and she was going to be the most damned fit girl in Brockton if that was what it took.

She was Missy Biron and she was Ward, she had fought with hardened criminals and she didn't have to take that kind of attitude from a civilian.

And so the torture continued for the next few weeks, her body changing as she worked out. The food that he gave her was something that she hadn't eaten before… and didn't want to eat again. It was the most bland and texturally devoid foodstuffs that she had ever put into her mouth. The white little block was called a "nutrient block" by Fred and she was to eat it 3 times a day on top of her daily food intake he had said. If she didn't he wasn't going to be training her anymore.

Missy had decided that she would get them tested and after Armsmaster had said they were perfectly fine she had started consuming them. Armsmaster had wanted to know where she got them, something about them being the "perfect food" but Missy just brushed it off with something someone had given her. She didn't want to reveal her secret training spot to anyone else, it was a place for her to let loose.

Still, eating them had produced a notable change in her body, she was growing taller, her muscles were toning to the point where she had actual muscle definition, and the training was getting easier. Well, not really easier, it was still as incredibly painful as it was before, but she could handle more of it than before. It was just too bad that Fred upped the ante every time that it looked like she could handle whatever he was throwing at her. Making her strap weights to her legs, making her do so while holding a bucket of sand, making her run the obstacle course with only her left hand, all of it designed no doubt to torture her for his amusement.

As much as Fred was a hunk, Missy had decided that he was also a huge asshole as well. Seriously, the way he acted like everything she did was "ok", and expected. She could handle a little praise you know, it wasn't like she was a Chilli plant and needed constant suffering to produce something good.

The benefits were certainly something that was showing however. The way in which she could handle anything that the Wards training had thrown at her, the way that only Aegis was able to beat her in a battle of stamina, the way that she was the most physically capable Ward outside of Aegis. All of it resulted from her training and she wasn't sure she should be grateful to Fred for allowing her to excel, to break through what she had thought were her limits, or to curse him for torturing her to allow her to reach that level in the first place.

She decided that she was going to do both. The asshole really did take far too much damn amusement in the way that she suffered for her to thank him out loud. As Missy walked into the dojo/gym/torture chamber after school for her daily session, she came even on weekends, the pain was depressingly addicting. Missy Biron was worried she was turning into a deviant of some kind now that she thought about it. Who else got off on training so hard that you couldn't walk afterwards?

What greeted her this time was not Fred grinning sadistically at her, but rather a Fred that was smiling, and not in that condescending manner either. This was a heartfelt, "good to see you here" smile that she had never seen before. She had grown good at recognising those kinds of smiles, you had to when you were a 12 year old Ward and nobody wanted you around since you were "too young", the fuckers.

"Girly. I've got good news and bad news, what do you want to hear first?" He asked, the smile transforming into that shit eating grin that she was so familiar with.

"The bad news." Experience had taught her to always go with the bad news, and since he did this every day, she had a lot of experience.

"Well, you have graduated from full time physical training." He said, looked momentarily sad. It took her a moment to process his words, but by the time she did, she was grinning viciously. HA! No more of this torture disguised as training crap, she was FREE!

"Don't look so happy, you're still going to need to do a program to make sure you don't degrade and still develop further. We're only stopping the full time program since you've reached the point where we can move onto the next part of the program." He said. Missy deflated for a second but reinflated again soon after, half torture was better than full torture she decided.

"Ok. What's the good news?" She asked, half-dreading the answer that was going to be coming out of his lips.

"We get to move onto the actual Jungle Fighting aspect of your training." He said, grinning widely at her.

Missy grinned back, she was going to be learning how to fight? Ha! She was Ward and she was trained by Armsmaster himself, she was going to be wiping the floor with his ass and it was going to feel sooooo good. Payback for all the pain that had been inflicted on her, revenge for her poor legs and arms.

Oh yes. She was going to enjoy this.

Spoiler: AN

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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Threadmarks Interlude 05 New

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#30

Missy glared at the man opposite her. He in turn, was grinning. It had been going so well, she had been ready to kick his ass, to get revenge on him for the training that he had forced her to undergo, to crush him beneath her feet (her boots were in the shoe locker out the front), to show him who was boss.

"Well now, let's start with the basics, hand to hand combat. Ready Girly?" Said Fred. His face split in that stupid grin of his.

Missy looked back at him, her ready stance was all the answer she needed to give. 'Come at me' it was like she was saying, her face split in a savage grin. She was going to get her revenge and it would feel glorious. She would destroy him.

"Come at me, let's see what you have." He said.

Missy didn't bother replying, instead pushing off the mat and diving at him. She would be going in for a punch, a widely telescoped one that would have him try and counterattack, then she would be spinning left, underneath him and trip him. Good plan, use her shortness to get an advantage over him.

Rushing in, Missy extended her right arm to her side, angled in an obvious punch. Diving in, she swung, her arm going out, his attempt at blocking it meeting nothing but thin air as she pulled her arm by spinning to the right. Heh, now she would put out her leg, hit the back of her knees, aaaand.

Bam.

The next thing she knew, Missy was on her back, her eyes staring at the ceiling. What had just happened? She was moving fast, fast enough that if she had done similar, only Armsmaster, Defiant and maybe Miss Militia would be able to take her down. They might be able to see her, but they would definitely not be able to hit her.

Just who the hell was Fred?

"Well… that was… disappointing." And all thoughts of finding out who Fred was fled her mind as outrage took its place. This… this… this man. If it was the last thing she ever did, Missy would put him on his back and make him worship her for being so superior to him.

If she just used her powers just a little he wouldn't even know and BAM, he would be going down. But that wouldn't have the satisfaction that would come from defeating him fair and square, using nothing but the body she had been born with. She was going to crush him, he just didn't know it yet. The poor fool.

"Yea, really disappointing actually, I thought you had a little skill, but it looks like I was totally wrong. We're going to need to start from scratch." He continued, much to Missy's indignation. She had been trained by Armsmaster and the PRT teams herself, not to mention the professional self-defence experts that came in to teach every week. He was saying all of their training was worthless? Missy was about to say something very loud and very rude when he continued.

"Too much hesitation, too much focus on trying to do a non-lethal takedown, too much movement. We're gonna be beating that out of you Girly, get ready for some serious training." He finished, grinning at her from above. He was upside down for some reason, oh wait. It was her that was upside down. Ok, time to get back up, if he wanted a fight, she was going to give him a damn fight. Smug fucker wouldn't even know what hit him.

Missy stood up, settling herself into a stance again, ready for round 2. Only for him to shake his head at her.

"Like I said Girly, we're starting from scratch. We aren't gonna be sparring again until I mark you off as ready." He said, walking over to her.

"Now, first thing I see is that we need to work on your posture, your positioning, your arms, your legs, everything that matters Girly. Let's get started." He said, grinning as he began to re-arrange her arms and legs to fit whatever posture he thought she needed to be in.

Missy's head began to hurt a little, the amount of information that he was dumping on her was enormous, more than the nutrition explanation he had given regarding how to best nourish her body.

Missy gave a mental sigh, it looked like her revenge was going to have to wait, he was going to be putting her through more torture it looked like. The dull kind most likely, judging from her previous experiences when it came to martial arts teachers.

What followed was definitely not like that at all. He would force her to change her posture, explaining what it was for, then telling her to attack him. When he inevitably blocked her attempts to strike, he would explain why she had failed, what was a better way to do it, and demonstrate using her own body so that her muscle memory would keep track of it.

Hours. It had gone for hours and by the end of it, she was just as tired as she had been when she first started the fitness training. Fred just had a natural talent for exhausting her. If nothing else he was a very good fitness coach from the looks of it.

She would persevere. When she was done with him, he would be crushed into pulp beneath her glorious foot.

After the first session where she had actually used her fists like the banner had advertised, she had spent the next several weeks going through an unbelievable regimen that completely changed the way she saw hand to hand combat, radically changing the way she fought on a fundamental level. Now her hesitation in combat came from trying to hold back and not go for a more brutal and direct style against her opponents. Whereas before she would be trying to take them down, using her body to her advantage. Fred's training had seen her change in that she knew she could take them down, in both a multitude of non-lethal and lethal techniques.

If was a big enough change that Miss Militia had asked her if there had been any big changes in her life. Missy had been tempted to blow her off like she had with Armsmaster, but she decided otherwise, maybe Miss Militia would understand, both of them being girls on an all male team (Battery didn't count, she was married). With that in mind, Missy had invited Hannah along to her next session with Fred at the Jungle Fighting 101 torture chamber.

She had purposefully avoiding telling Hannah the specifics, she had wanted to see what would happen to her. Was it sadistic? Yes. Had Hannah done anything wrong to her to deserve such a fate? No. But she was going to do it anyway? Yes. Hannah would probably step in and be all indignant, "oh noes what you doing to my beautiful awesome Ward? I shall crush you!"

It would be a glorious moment to see Fred taken down a notch by Hannah when she invariably crushed him. Missy couldn't wait.

And so it was that Hannah met her as she was leaving school, both of them making their way to the dojo after bidding goodbye to the other Wards, mention of it being a girls night out keeping them away.

"Girly. And bigger Girly. A friend?" Fred asked, his customary position at the dojo entrance desk allowing him to see her as she entered. He always sat there. He never did any paperwork at all, just sitting there. What was the point?

"Yes, I am Hannah, thank you for taking care of Melissa," Hannah said, revealing her deepest and darkest of secrets. Her real name.

"Sounds a little posh doesn't it, you aren't some kind of noble are you Girly?" Fred asked, raising that damned eyebrow at her as he did so.

"No! I'm just a normal girl. Call me Missy." She said, glaring at him, arms folded across her chest.

"No can do Girly, until you graduate, you're gonna be a Girly all the same." He said, his eyebrow still raised, only it was wiggling, taunting her. After the time they had spent together, he had gotten very good at poking at her weakpoints and getting a rise out of her.

"I'm Missy, not Girly!"

"So you say Girly, still look like a Girly from all the way up here." He said, grinning widely at her.

Missy ground her teeth in frustration before heading over to the shoelocker, changing out and then heading to the changing rooms. She hadn't won before, it looked like she wasn't going to win now.

"Wanna join in bigger Girly?" She heard Fred ask. Missy stifled a little giggle at that, he even called Hannah girly. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

Hannah, or rather Miss Militia was trying very hard to not stare at the man. He wasn't wearing a shirt and he looked… delicious.

She knew a good looking man when she saw one, and was scanning him with her eyes, she would burn his body into her mind, it was just that perfect.

"Wanna join in Bigger Girly?" His question knocked her out of her battle with herself. Still, she frowned, she was certainly not a Girly, she was a grown woman.

"My name is Hannah, and I am just here to watch today." She said, her tone reprimanding him.

The manner in which he shrugged and turned away from her told Hannah that he had ignored her. Hannah could see why Missy was aggravated by the man, the normally sweet teenage had actually been glaring at him and even raised her voice, something that Hannah had never seen before from the Ward.

Still, that did not make it a bad thing, to have someone that was able to engage you, whether it be in anger or not, was a good thing for personal growth. Given that this "Fred" as Missy had said his name was training her both physically and martially, she had to thank him for taking Missy under his wing. The poor Ward was very much out of place as both the youngest Ward as well as the only female on the team, both now that Shadow Stalker was dead and even when she was alive.

Shadow Stalker had not exactly embraced her femininity, instead preferring to hunt and catch criminals, stalking the night, the eternal hunter as opposed to sitting down for some girl talk, or even to talk at all. She did not see the other Wards as equals and it had defined their relationship.

"Well then bigger Girly, just follow me hmm?" Fred(?) said, turning and walking into the dojo, leaving Hannah to trail behind.

His continued use of the word Girly in reference to her was triggering her ability, her weapons constantly switching in and out as she stalked behind the man. She had already had to change her name from Hana to Hannah, and she was not appreciating the fact that this man demanded further change, even worse he was so cavalier about it.

Hannah could see why Missy reacted to this manner in such an aggressive manner, he brought out the worst in them. Maybe he was just like this to women?

Hannah wasn't sure why he was so deliberately antagonizing and she resolved to find out why, or at least partially why. While it certainly was irritating, it was also true that he had engaged Missy in a way that nobody else had managed to do so before now.

Hannah changed in the shoelocker as well, taking off her flats, cleaning her feet in the offered sink that reminded her of home and was off into the main dojo. It was a… small affair and Fred was waiting in the middle for Missy by the looks of it.

Hannah took the opportunity to look around the place, admiring the… blank concrete walls. It was the single most bare bones dojos that she had ever seen, the entire place being unadorned of any decorations except for the mats on the floor, the very same ones she was standing on. There was a door at the opposite end of the room, itself measuring 10 meters by 10 meters from the looks of it.

Hannah wasn't so discourteous to go and snoop on her own so she waited.

Missy had invited her along for a reason, perhaps she would see why in a short while.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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Threadmarks Interlude 06 New

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#31

Hannah stared in horror at what Missy was going through. The young Ward was being put through her paces, through one of the most physically grueling programs that Hannah had ever seen. Even Armsmaster hadn't done this much when he was bringing himself to his optimal condition.

Right now Missy was running her way around in a circle around the perimeter of the obstacle room behind the mat room. The laps however, was through the obstacle course itself, the young Ward having to dodge in and around the various poles, blocks, walls and hanging beams that were in her way. All without using her powers.

Missy did it admirably, diving, rolling, swinging and in one case leaping over a 3 meter gap with ease. Hannah looked on in admiration, Missy was certainly looking like she was enjoying herself, the Ward grinning widely as she made her way through the obstacle course, increasing her speed with every lap.

Still, Hannah was not stupid and she looked up at Fred who was beside her. Missy very clearly had to train extraordinarily hard to reach this level of competency in her movement, something that meant she had very likely fell or crashing into objects as she was doing so. Training this difficult was not something that a young 12 year old like Missy should be undergoing, she should just stay as she was, she still had years before she was needed in any capacity. She didn't need to do this to herself. Her body would be facing long term damage from all of this. Just what was Fred thinking?

Hannah was at a loss, why was Missy pushing herself so hard? What was motivating her to put herself through training that involved physical training that made Armsmaster's body efficiency program look lackluster?

"Why?" She asked, looking up at Fred. She was trying very hard to not look at his arms, those delicious looking arms.

She wanted to lay him down and lick them and. No. Bad Hannah.

"Why are you doing this?" Hannah continued, looking into his eyes.

The trainer turned his head to her, looking into her eyes and what amazing eyes they were, like golden honey, it makes you all warm and gooey inside looking into them doesn't it Hannah? He grinned, showing off his teeth, not purely white but with tinges of yellow to them. Someone who regularly brushed but wasn't paying someone to whiten them.

"The Girly wanted to train, I said ok. So now we're training. What's not to understand?" He asked, eyebrow raising, perfectly sculpted and dangerously sexy eyebrows that made her want to press her lips to them.

"But this is far beyond 'training', this is too intense for that! You are putting her through training that is going to damage her body." Hannah said, barely refraining from shouting at him as she did so.

"What? No! She's been tested, everything is done to the maximum level of her limits but nothing beyond that." Said Fred, sounding offended. His face was twisted into a scowl, as if her questioning his ability to train the young Ward somehow impinged on his manly pride. And what a pride that would be if the rest of him was any indication.

"Done!" Came Missy's shout, not 3 meters away.

Hannah jerked slightly, Missy's voice jolting her from the rather intense staring session that she had been having with Fred, words were one thing but it seemed like they were having an entirely different conversation that only the two of them could interpret.

"Good. Back to the mat room. We're sparring today." He said, breaking eye contact with her and walking away.

"Boo. I thought that I would be able to scare him that time." Missy said, her face twisted into a scowl, arms crossed in front of her. As the Ward kicked at the ground with her feet, Hannah took a moment to walk over to her. Concern was radiating out of every pore she was sure. Worry over what Missy was doing, why she was doing it, just what was driving her.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do? This training is something that I've only seen special forces soldiers do and even then for half as long. Are you sure you want to do this? Nobody will think less of you if you do." She said, crouching down to put herself on the same level as the Ward. "It's only you and me right now, you can tell me Missy, I won't tell anyone else. I promise." Hannah wracked her brain and brought up an ancient little thing she used to do when she was a child. "Pinky swear," she said hand up, pinky out.

Missy instead scrunched up her face and said, "Sorry Hannah, I thought that I wanted to just quit when we first started out, but now I have to beat him. I cannot let him win, I'm going to put him down if it's the last thing I do." Declared the girl, back straight and eyes showing her fortitude. She really did want to beat him, didn't she?

"Well ok then. If there is anything you need to talk about, just remember that I'm here ok?" Hannah said, trying to sound supportive despite the dissonance she felt from the way the Ward had spoken. Was she meant to support Missy's desire to not give up despite her hardships, or was she supposed to feel a little rejection of Missy's desire to defeat her instructor? Therein lay the path to frustration and pent up anger, and for someone that was already shouldering the burden of having her parents divorce and being a Ward at the same time, perhaps it would be best to not have Missy here in the first place.

She would be angry, but Hannah hoped that over time, Missy would forgive her, it was for her own good.

Hannah followed Missy into the mat room again as the Ward and her Instructor were squaring off against each other. The sight of a man that was likely 2 times the height of the Ward looming over the young girl was enough to put palpitations in Hannah's heart. Was he going to just beat her? Was this the training that she was undergoing?

Hannah had noticed Missy's increased performance over the last month, as had the PRT instructors as well as the heroes themselves. The Ward being able to defeat every one of her Ward counterparts with ease save for Aegis if she wasn't able to use her powers, crushing them if she was. Even against the fully fledged heroes and martial arts instructors on payroll, Missy was giving a good showing of herself, able to hold her own against the instructors without her powers, and able to at least stand up temporarily against the heroes.

What had prompted such an enormous change in the young Ward none of them knew, until Armsmaster had used his privileges to get a recording of Missy's trek home and had noticed that she had entered the building of her own volition, the one that had a badly painted sign out the front selling "Jungle Fighting 101". Naturally, the PRT and the Protectorate had been suspicious and forays were made into finding out what exactly this new business was, and they had come up clean.

Merely a dojo run by a man named Fred Stone whose only student it appeared was a Missy Biron. What was more, she was going every day, and the earliest changes to her behavior appeared the week after she had visited the gym for the first time. It was extremely worrying and Hannah had volunteered to ask the Ward and see if she could get an invite to see what it was that the Ward was going through to have such a change on her.

Not that it was not welcome of course, the conquest of the entire Dockland area by the Princess' forces had sparked what looked like a new gang war that was about to begin very soon. Having Missy being able to defend herself better would be very welcome, especially if it kept her alive. While the Princess' forces had not made any overt moves since they had taken the Docks, they had cut off the supply of goods from the ocean to the ABB and E88. The Merchants had been annihilated and without the Docks to receive the majority of their goods, they had fallen apart.

As for the ABB and E88, after a few probes that had seen their men wiped out to a man by the not extremely impressive defensive systems, resembling a Normandy beach in World War 2 than a Dock area. The Princess' forces appeared to be very content with merely patrolling the land which they had taken and warding off any attackers, retaliation in kind not being on their agenda so far.

However, the ABB and E88 were getting desperate, their stocks of drugs among other things was beginning to dry up and they needed the Docks open again to receive their goods in the volumes that they needed. Without them, the bulk transit afforded by boats assisting in the throughput of supplies, the two gangs would have to rely on getting goods from a land route and that was eating into their profit margins, forcing them to raise prices which was making customers extremely discontent.

The entire city was just a powderkeg waiting for some very irresponsible someone's to throw a match on it and turn the entire thing into a conflagration. Hannah wasn't too sure how she felt about that, bad because of the innocent people that were going to get caught up in it all, not so bad since the E88 and the ABB were going to be slamming themselves into the Princess' forces and they had proven that they were extremely deadly. Likely the most deadly gang in the United States if what they were seeing was true, able to raise fortifications almost overnight, each of them seemingly going without sleep for days, capable in hand to hand and ranged combat.

It was like someone took Special Forces soldiers from around the world and put them all into the same units. It was rather ridiculous now that she thought about it, but it was making far too much sense for it to be any other way. Armsmaster and Dragon had their analytics programs to tell what kind of person they were looking at from just observing them, but for Hannah, she had spent time memorizing mannerisms to tell how to best approach a situation, especially if it was one against unknowns without qualms regarding killing.

The men and women under the Princess' command all behaved like professional soldiers and that was certainly disconcerting, to say the least. They still hadn't managed to solve the issue of Shadow Stalker's murderer, Armsmaster had said that it was a separate group from the ones that had built a vast tunnel network under the city initially, something about them not being overt about what they were doing compared to simply killing Shadow Stalker in her civilian identity as well as her friends. But when it became rather obvious that the Princess' forces were the ones who had done that in the first place, using the tunnel network and their ability to create fortifications to build up around the Docks and solidifying their position.

However, the fact it appeared that they had no saboteur units, made it difficult to confirm whether or not it was the same group or not, but Armsmaster was keeping his eyes on them. That and he wanted one of their laser guns to take apart for his own sake, it was digging into him how efficient they were compared to even Kid Win's designs.

Hannah was pulled out from her thoughts at the sight in front of her. That of Missy leaping into the air and kicking at Fred's head with enough force that she could hear the slap of knee against flesh from her position at the doorway. Fred had put up his arm to block the kick, but Missy simply switched and used her left leg connected to his arm to lever her right leg into action, kicking from the opposite angle. As Fred put up his hand with the intent of catching Missy's foot, she instead used her hands to grab hold of his head and flip herself over the man, aiming to kick at the back of his head as she twisted her way over.

Hannah simply stared. This was not the Missy she had been training with.

This was something else.

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Nov 17, 2016

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#32

Missy grinned as she kicked at Fred's head, the few times that she was allowed to go all out and do whatever she wanted to him. Sure she hadn't been able to get him down as of yet, but it wasn't due to her lack of trying.

It was certainly something that allowed her to relieve her stress after a week of intense training, all the frustration that she had been building up over time as she was beaten into the ground by Fred in the name of trying, forced to do the same drills over and over again to build muscle memory or whatever justification it was he was using to explain why he was crushing her every day.

This was her chance to let loose, and Missy was going to be going all out, trying to do as much damage as she could to him as she possibly could in the time that she had. Missy was going all out and he was going to be on the receiving end of it, and it was going to be awesome.

Assuming she could land a hit. Every single kick, every punch, every strike had been deflected or blocked outright and Fred hadn't moved outside of the little circle he set for himself at all. He had said to her that if she managed to get him outside of the circle, he would begin training her for real, with knives and other weapons. Missy couldn't wait, only his stipulation meant that she had been trying ineffectually to knock him down for the last 2 weeks.

Missy took a brief break, landing on the ground some 3 meters away from him, taking the chance to breathe in some air, feed the bellows that had replaced her lungs and shake loose her arms and legs. Going hard several minutes straight really did a number on one's muscles and joints, she didn't see how the other heroes could do this for hours at a time.

Ok, Missy shook her head and sprinted forward again, using her right foot to push her into the air when she was a few steps away from Fred. She wanted her knee up into his face, knock him all the way over and make him regret taking her so lightly, not even using the stances that he had taught her. At the speed she was going, even if he blocked her, the momentum should be enough to knock him off balance and even out of the circle if she was lucky.

If she wasn't, it would put him off balance enough that would have an opening to attack into, his back would be vulnerable, perhaps even his legs. It was all about picking your targets and Missy would have an entire body of them to select from once he was down.

Only it went completely differently from what she imagined, her knee missed and she was sailing over him. Where was he? What the hell? Missy looked back and felt some shock, the bastard had swung one leg into the air to balance him as she lowered his torso until the leg that was free floating was horizontal to his body. What the hell was that shit? He had never done that before, he shouldn't be able to do that, what the fuck.

Missy felt the indignation filling her brain, where the hell did he get off being so… so… so damned perfect. It was unfair to the rest of the world and it did nothing to improve her confidence. She glared at him as he turned to face her. The bastard was even grinning at her.

Missy growled, a bestial growl that harkened back to the mammals that were in her family tree all those millions of years ago. A growl that told Fred that she was going to devour him and crack open his bones to drink out the marrow. There was no mercy to be found here and Missy was not in the mood to be merciful in the first place.

She was not a merciful nor a forgiving god.

With a roar she threw herself at Fred, ignoring her body that was screaming at her to take a break, that every single one of her muscles was on the very of collapsing. She was going to be taking him down if it was the last thing she did. She would wipe that grin off his face, that fucking grin.

Hands, legs, arms, elbows, knees, shoulders, every part of her body that could be weaponized was thrown at him, every part that couldn't was used in support of the others. Her entire body was turned into a weapon, every individual part of it contributing to the whole. Despite her frustration, Missy felt a sense of exhilaration. She was able to use her full potential, to go for the killing moves, all the attacks that she had kept to herself to avoid injuring or killing her more mundane sparring partners.

With Fred however, she could unleash her inner beast and go all out without a fear that she would be charged with manslaughter at a later date. Or rather, if she was charged with anything, it would be murder. Murder because she was going to get revenge on Fred for all he had done to her and she was going to enjoy it. So what if she was meant to be a 12 year old sweet summer child. She had suffered at his hands for what must have been 2 months now, she was quite definitely not going to forgive and forget.

Actually, she dared someone in her shoes to forgive and forget what had been done to them. They wouldn't, the humiliation, the pain, the grin as he laughed at her with his eyes. He was going to pay.

"Well Girly, good job." Fred said, standing over Missy as she lay starfished out on the floor, panting in exhaustion. Her entire body was one giant ache, every single muscle fibre was screaming at her, demanding an impeachment of the brain for pushing them this far. She could feel some of them marching their way over to hormone producers now, pitchforks ready to enact brutal revenge.

"Ughmguh." Missy replied. She was too damned tired to be talking, why did he act like she was a normal person that could do some bloody replying. What the hell did he think she was? Just because the bastard wasn't human, didn't mean all of them were like him.

"Heh, here." He bent down and offered to her the elixir of life. The most beautiful drink that she had ever seen in her life. It was magical, somehow able to take away all the pain and soreness in her muscles, an unqualified success in everything it wanted to be, not like that bastard Fred.

The little plastic bag's nozzle was placed into her mouth and Missy sucked it like it was milk fresh from the teat of her mother, assuming she was in the infant in that analogy. A brief moment more and the warmth of the drink spread through her entire body, like a wave that washed away the pain and the aching. It was like a tide, just calmly lapping away at her aches, at her pains, slowly leeching out the suffering and replacing it with nothing but happiness and love.

Missy felt like she could love the world, even forgive Fred she was so generous. Anything and everything, just ask Missy Biron and she would do it. She was a merciful god, one that bestowed a bounty upon those that worshiped at her feet. And then the drink was gone and she was back to normal, her brief episode a glimpse into the world that Missy could have been, assuming she was a total pansy.

Taking a moment for herself, enjoying the fact that she could once again move her body as she wanted it, Missy sat up and stared at Fred. "Good job? For what? Making you go on one leg? Hah! You're screwing with me again aren't you!" She accused, eyebrows furrowed.

A finger impacted right between her brows, "Don't frown so much Girly, the more wrinkles you have, the harder it is to put camo paint on you." He said, grinning at her.

Missy settled for pouting at him.

"I said Good Job since you managed to get me on one leg. It's time to start you with weapons training Girly. Don't worry, we'll still be doing physical and unarmed training as well. You won't be missing out on a thing." He said, grinning in that sadistically amused manner of his. The one that said he was going to make her life hell and enjoy every last moment of it.

"I thought you said I had to knock you out of the ring before you would teach me weapons." Missy asked, standing up.

"I lied. Someone as small as you knocking me out of the ring? Hah! Even the Sergeant can't knock me out of the ring on his best day, what's a little thing like you gonna do to me?" He said, laughing at her.

Again with the Sergeant, always comparing her to this elusive Sergeant of his that was apparently on her level when it came to physical abilities. Always insulting the Sergeant, always saying the Sergeant was better than Missy but implying it wasn't by much. Missy wanted to meet this Sergeant and complain to him about Fred, maybe they could bond over their mutual complaints about Fred.

"Now then, sit right there, I'm gonna give you your first weapon. This is your first weapon and I expect for you to take care of it like your own child. Screw around with it and I'll take it away from you and you will never see it again. That understood?" He said, looking uncharacteristically serious for the first time since she had met him.

Missy nodded and Fred grinned at her. "Wait there." And he was off, walking over to his desk and pulling out a knife? From the drawer underneath.

Missy stared at it and from out of the corner of her eyes, she could see that Hannah was staring as well. It was a beautiful knife, very elegant, very functional, and so very sharp. Missy lost herself in staring at the glossy finish, the tiny swirls that shone in colours of dark blue, purple-black, and red staring right back at her.

Missy felt for a moment that she had fallen in love all over again, only this love was so much more enduring and beautiful than the surface level emotions she had felt for Dean. This was a love between a woman and her best friend, a love of beauty, of perfection. Simply trying to explain why she felt the way she did was impossible, it was simply too perfect for her to articulate in words just what it was she was looking at.

"This is called a stiletto, it's a knife that's designed for stabbing, for delicate work. It's also a great knife to practice your parrying, deflecting, and blocking skills." Fred said. Only Missy didn't hear him, she was too busy staring at the knife. That was until he blocked it from her view. Oy!

"Focus Girly." He said, raising his eyebrow at her.

"Yes?"

"This is a Stiletto, we're going to be using this to teach you how to use knives properly, any questions?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at her. The nerve! It wasn't as if Missy had a habit of ignoring his words. It was just the fact that there was something so perfect staring at her, begging for her to take it into her hands, well it made perfect sense why a girl wouldn't be listening to something mundane as human speech.

"No," Missy said, short, crisp. She wanted that damned knife. Gimme gimme gimme.

Fred gave a sigh. "It's rare we get something like this the first time around." He said, sounding a little happy but also regretful.

"Huh?" Missy looked up at him. What the hell was he talking about.

"Finding your perfect knife. It's something that happens when someone sees the knife that is perfect for them, and it looks like Stilettos are your perfect knives." He said, reaching out his hand, palm up. On it was the Stiletto, on it was perfection, on it was her destiny.

Missy felt her hand tremble as she reached out. Her palm firmly grasping the hilt of the blade in her hands, it was a little big for her but that didn't matter. The feeling of bliss, of knowing that she was home filled her.

This.

This was her soul-weapon.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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#33

Hannah stared a little uncomfortably at the orgasmic expression on Missy's face. Seeing a young girl with that expression while holding a weapon was just a little… disturbing if she was being honest.

In fact, the entire thing had been disturbing, from the way that Missy had gone straight into killing techniques in her spar with Fred, the way that she had been unerringly targeting his throat, his head, kidneys, liver, and joints. The way that she had done so without hesitation, each strike capable of ending his life if he hadn't managed to block them. It was ridiculous and more than a little scary actually, seeing a man hold off against every single one of them without breaking a sweat.

Even though it had gone on for what must have been 15 minutes, he hadn't shown any difficulties at all, and the fact that Missy could manage 15 straight minutes of non-stop attacks and maneuvering, well Hannah was impressed. Both of them had a different level of impressed but Missy certainly had the most, the way that a 12 year old girl could do what she was doing without faltering was admirable. Grown men trained for years couldn't do that.

It was worrying.

What if she decided to use those same moved on a criminal? A strike to the back of the head, an elbow to the temple, a knee to the nose, all of those could kill, and the way that she had been aiming them, they were intended to kill. She could not in keeping with her conscience allow for Missy to remain here if this was what they were teaching her, or rather he was teaching her. Hannah hadn't seen any evidence that there was anyone besides Fred here doing the teaching.

Then there was the fact that he had just given Missy a knife, a very sharp and effective knife. The kind that was designed to kill, not as a utility item, or even as an ornament, but rather a knife that was for ending the lives of one's enemies. Hannah should know, she had fielded a few of them in her time with both the "army" and the PRT.

Using her power discretely, Hannah copied the knife and in doing so understood the weapon at a fundamental every, every little part of it being open to her mind. It was made from a simple steel alloy that would allow for it to have more flexibility than a usual Stiletto, it would have to be sharpened for often, but for a weapon of this type that was not a real concern. In fact, Hannah was slightly worried about what exactly Fred was expecting Missy to be using this knife for in the first place.

She frowned, not liking where her thoughts were taking her.

"Well now, we're gonna be running over safety when holding a knife, how to stow it away, how to make sure you don't stab yourself in the guy, you know, the standard stuff before we pack it away and get on with it. Any questions?" He asked, looking down at Missy.

"Ummm. No? You haven't said anything that needs questions yet." She replied, grinning rather cheekily up at him.

The mischievous young girl contrasted greatly with the one with a snarl on her face, baying for the blood of Fred, drenched in sweat as she worked to gain the slightest of advantages over him. In fact, the range of expression that Missy had displayed over the course of the last 2 hours had been more than Hannah had ever seen from the girl, thinking that she was naturally quiet and preferred to be alone.

Instead, Hannah was confronted by the knowledge that the girl she thought was the real Missy was most probably a fake, the real one hiding behind a facade. She wasn't exactly sure as to why she was hiding away from the other Wards, but the knowledge that she was, was certainly impossible to escape from now. Hannah understood, she really did. Deep down, deep inside of her, she felt the same way, a need to let loose, a need to indulge in her powers, to fight with every tool she had available in a fight against someone superior to her. To know that to fail was death, that every move she made was one that had consequence, that she was fighting for both her life, and her soul. It was a dream, one that was so far away, yet as she stared at Fred in front of her, so close.

Hannah reconsidered her plan to take Missy out of the dojo, apparently it was having a very large impact on Missy, she was certainly smiling more, having more fun (even if it was of the violent variety), and being much more engaged with those around her (even if it was just 1 man). Hannah didn't know what she should be doing, as the two before her talked, and jabbed at each other with their words, Hannah was left for the first time in a long time at a loss.

Then her eyes strayed over to Fred again, something she had been trying to avoid, the fact that he was shirtless slamming into her mind every time she even so much as looked at him for too long. The damned man was far too sexy for his own good and it was playing havoc on Hannah's concentration.

It was like drugs, do them enough and one might gain a little resistance, but the first few times were going to be a massive rush… genius.

Hannah decided on the spot that she was going to be asking for lessons as well. It would be under the guise of testing whether or not Fred was a suitable teacher for Missy as well as for her to gain an immunity to the way he just oozed testosterone. Long forgotten parts of Hannah's body were waking up and she wasn't sure she liked that fact, but sadly it was inevitable.

The only recourse was to escape and bury any memories as deeply as she could, a problem considering that she had photographic memory that was going to refuse to allow her to do that. That and she was not sure she wanted that at all, no. What if she was hit by an ambush of Freds? She wouldn't have her immunity and she would be helpless.

No, she was going to be signing up for lessons and if that meant she was going to be sparring with him up close, breathing in his scent purely by accident of course and maybe, just maybe, trying out armlocks, headlocks, locks of all kinds. The kinds that brought her into extreme close contact, the kind that made her glad that she was a woman. Well, that was just an added bonus, right?

Hannah grinned at her internal self-justification of what she was about to do. She should just admit that she wanted to be near the man, apparently, an entire life of being inside the Protectorate, doing paperwork, fighting villains, watching friends and enemies die was not something that had been healthy for her.

Well no time like the present, she was going to be enjoying life, just a little bit, as she trained with Fred.

"Sooooo… why did you decide to sign up for lessons Hannah?" Missy asked, drawing out the first word in a way that told Hannah the young Ward knew exactly the reasons as to why she had done so.

"I wanted to learn how to fight using knives," Hannah said, as primly and authoritatively as she possibly could.

"Uh huh. Which was why you were looking at his biceps and abs the whole time right?" Missy said, grinning at her. Hannah saw the shark-like grin from the corner of her eye and decided that she had made a mistake. She should have come back at a later date where Missy wasn't around. She should have not made it obvious at all, or let anyone she knew know. Dammit. That much testosterone killed her decision making skills.

"Ok, what do you want Girly," Hannah said, deliberately using the word in hopes that it would trip Missy up. The frown on the younger girl's face telling her that Hannah's ploy had worked admirably.

"Well… you were here to make sure that Fred was a good guy right?" Missy asked, raising her eyebrows at Hannah.

"I see where you are going with this. I'll keep this a secret if you keep mine a secret too all right?" Hannah said, a bargain with the devil. The girl was maturing too fast and it was not something that Hannah thought was a good idea. She should be innocent, she was a child and shouldn't be involved in this, not like this. Life was too short to waste one's childhood.

"Sure, it will be our secret," Missy said, holding out her pinky for a swear.

Hannah grinned, it looked like Missy was still a little immature after all, hope had not been lost.

Hannah glared at Fred. She had thought that her own abilities had been sufficient, that they would be enough for her to cruise through the training. Sure it would be a little difficult, but judging from what Missy went through, she should have been able to do it with ease. Only Fred had apparently decided that she was serious about her application to learn and decided to design a regimen for her that included physical training that was taking her to the limits of her body and then shattering them.

For someone that knew exactly what she was capable of, seeing her body improve by leaps and bounds was certainly something new, a feeling that she could enjoy certainly. If it had not come with agonizing levels of pain that made her question what exactly drove Missy to experience this and decide that she still wanted to keep going.

It was a week of this. A week in which Missy was looking at her sympathetically as she did her own routine, only Missy had been graduated from doing a full time physical exercise course, unlike Hannah. Which meant Hannah had the obstacle room to herself as she filled the quota that Fred had demanded of her. Sure she could have simply ignored him, but dammit that grin, the way he just lifted his eyebrows at her, the way he just existed, the insufferable levels of smugness that pervaded his being.

No. Dammit. Hannah would not be giving him the satisfaction of knowing that she had not given her all in breaking the goals he had set. All of them were perfectly possible which was even worse, it was like he knew her own better than she did.

No, as Hannah stared at the ceiling, she was not giving up and she was for damn sure not allowing that man to beat her. She understood now why Missy had expressed a desire to crush him, Hannah never a person that wanted violence for the sake of it, had found herself daydreaming about knocking him down and stepping all over him. It would be so satisfying, on a metaphorical level of crushing the smug bastard and also having her feet on those delicious muscles.

Sure he was an ass, but that didn't take away from the sexiness incarnate that was his body.

Hannah groaned and stood up again, time for the twelfth set, her 30 seconds of break were over and as she hefted the 30kg bag off the ground, Hannah got moving. She was going to beat this damn goal if it took her the entire night.

Hannah glared at the ceiling. Only in this case, it was not because of an exercise that Fred had told her needed doing. Rather this glaring was because Fred had knocked her on her ass. Her, Miss Militia, the one hero that used lethal weapons and was used to doing this shit. She had been doing this since she was a child and this damned man just knocked her on her ass as if she was a newborn.

Hannah decided that she did not enjoy this feeling, she did not enjoy it one bit. Fuck him. Metaphorically and physically. Sure she had been knocked on her ass before, mainly from instructors and other heroes, but that grin, the way he radiated confidence, as if she would never be able to touch him.

Uuuurgh.

Hannah launched herself to her feet. She was going to put him down if it took her all day, week, month, year. She didn't care, she was going to destroy him. Hannah did not take a challenge lying down.

Spoiler: AN

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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#40

His name was John Price, why? Because that was his name. He was a member of the Phantine Skyborne, why? Because he liked to get up and personal with his enemies. Sometimes a knife to the gut sent a better message than 10 thousand kilos of ordnance.

He was rather good at his job, one had to be when the whole idea was to drop you into enemy lines right after an airstrike. Right into the middle of a riled up hornet's nest that made Orks look fluffy. Well, it didn't matter anyway, it wasn't like he was dropping out of anything this time around. He had been summoned to join the Princess' Guard to serve as the eyes and ears of the garrison. They didn't even have a thousand troopers at the moment, something that was going to be hurting if they didn't fix that and soon.

You could conquer a city with 1 man, but you needed 10,000 to hold one. And if the Princess was telling the truth when she said she wanted to conquer the world? Well, she was going to need millions of troopers and the whole point limit thing was going to be hurting that.

Unless she wanted them to train up a few of the natives?

They were… slightly below average, and that was being generous. Price wasn't generous, why? Because he had learnt generosity got you killed. Budget what you need and nothing more, when you were dropping out of aircraft just this side of the atmosphere, going overboard was going to get you made into meat.

Price had learnt his lesson, he was good at that. As to what he was doing right now? At this exact moment in time? He was drinking. He was good at that. It helped ease the memories.

Unlike the other Guardsmen that had been summoned so far, he had served the longest of all of them. That included the Colonel, she was barely a babe by his standards, why? Because he had served for nearly 400 years at this point.

When one got as good as he did, you became very good at staying alive.

Pick your engagements, pick your targets, and they drop like flies. Even the most suicidal mission will be easy once you find exactly the weak point that you need to prod to make it topple over. It really wasn't that difficult as long as you had the knack for finding the weak points, luckily for him, he had that knack.

Too many others didn't. Which was why he was drinking. He had seen or heard hundreds under his command die, each one hitting him as hard as the last, why? Because he had never worked out the knack for not caring that other commanders mastered so early on.

When you were as close knit as the Phantine Skyborne, it meant that every single one of the members of his team was like family. They trained hard, they fought hard, they fucked up hard. He knew every single one of those under his command by name, their histories, their likes, their dislikes, even in some cases their pornographic preferences. When a Regiment consisted of barely 100 men, it was hard to not know each man and woman individually.

Impossible even.

He gave a brief glance at the drinks to his right. The bloody drinks at this place were too damn weak. He thought this was a bar? Who served 40% alcohol? What was this? A bar for civilians? Oh right. It was.

Why was he here again? Because he needed to get the scope on this Faultline woman. Had powers, was not a psyker which was something he needed to get used to. Usually, he would just put a bolt in the woman's head and just leave, none of this "see if she is on our side" crap. Just kill her already.

But.

The Princess wanted things to be done peacefully if possible, so he was here, making sure that peace was not possible, why? Because he didn't want to work with psykers, they always fucked up when you don't want them to and get everyone killed.

63 of his men had died because a psyker had fucked up, 63 men that he had personally trained, taught and regarded as family. Dead because some fucking lightning rod couldn't keep their brain dick in their skulls. But, orders were orders and he was going to follow them, even if he didn't like them.

If they were really worthy? Then maybe, maybe he would consider a positive report.

As for his partner in this particular foray, John "Soap" Mctavish, so named because he had an obsession with being clean that nobody could figure out the reason for (his asshole stank to high heaven if he didn't wash that once a day), was here with Price, why? Because apparently, Price was a "judgemental fuck" in the words of Sergeant Black, that big and ugly Catachan they had dredged up somewhere.

Captain Price had known the Catachan for 100 or so years, they had fought together on a few campaigns and he respected the man, even if he couldn't squeeze into a wetsuit to save his life. The man didn't know what the definition of clothing was half the time which was certainly amusing, also very worrying for the sexuality of those around him. Price included… sometimes.

Price wasn't afraid really, why? Because he was confident in his sexuality, that being anything under 100 thrones for a night. He was cheap, sure, he knew his limits.

It looked like there wouldn't be any of that here tonight, which was disappointing. What kind of bar didn't have prostitutes on payroll? Oh right, the civilian kind.

He was still waiting for the Faultline to drop down, he needed a quick gander to see if she was worth talking to before beginning negotiations. Sure she wasn't going to be covered in pentagrams and wearing the skulls of her enemies, but you never knew.

Never go into a Chaos Cultist's house on your own, things just didn't go well for you if you did. Unless you were one of those fucking Space Marines, didn't know the definition of stealth unless it bit them on their dicks and ripped their balls off. Fucking clockwork soldiers they were, made more noise than Soap in the shower. Assuming they had balls, there were stories from the Catachans how a few Space Marines they had "gutted" were missing the all too vital hammer and dongle. It was certainly something to consider, might explain why their crotch guards were so small compared to their pauldrons.

"What's got your goat Price?" Soap asks, because Soap fucking cares. Dammit Soap, let a man wallow in peace.

"Drunk." He replied, when you worked with a man for 200 years, you developed a very close understanding of each other. Shorthanded speech was all they needed really, it certainly made everything simpler. It was a matter of body language, tone of voice, length of the words, speed of speech and who knew what else. It was all subconscious in the end, instinctual even.

Drunk translated to: Can't get fucking drunk, where the fuck are the hookers at, why the fuck are we here?

Soap chuckled, the bastard. Always did like to jam knives into eyeballs, the sick fuck. Not that he could say any better, he liked the throats personally. Just a nice and simple little blade, not even a proper one even, some scrap metal, some twisted wire, and a nice throat to gently ease it in, and then? Well, things didn't go so well for them when Price got his hands on them.

"You two boys have been here a while, anything you want to share with the class?" Came a voice behind them. A distinctly female voice. One that was very authoritative. Just how Price liked them.

Turning around he stared at a woman who was wearing… riot gear? Like a Commissar mixed with an Arbites, a not unattractive combination now that he thought about it.

"Hmmm?" Price hummed out, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't a Phantine and wouldn't be understanding him very well.

"You two boys look a little too sharp to be just drinking. Anything I need to know about?" She asked. Must be Faultline. She was hot, sure, but she was a psyker, probably meant that she had no hair like the rest of them. Which was a pretty big turnoff, well that and the lightning that came out of their eyes when they got angry.

"She's good." Said Soap, always the nice guy. Just let her know they were watching her, sure that was a good idea. Fucking Soap. Could have denied it, 2 guys drinking in a bar, what would have given them away? Oh right… civilian bar, probably never saw 2 Phantines before in their lives.

"Of course she is. If she wasn't the Colonel wouldn't have sent us here now would she?" Price said, a little testily sure, but that wasn't his fault. He had come to this bar with expectations and they had not been met.

"As much as I am glad you are enjoying this, perhaps a little answer that the rest of us can understand?" She asked, sounding a little impatient. Which was hot, authoritative girls in riot armour were hot. He wasn't too picky about the face, as long as she wasn't a psyker, that was always a mood killer.

Good girls that met his specifications were few and far between sadly, always charged the sky for a quick insult and a jerk off. Depressing what a man resorted to in order to fill his fetishes.

"The Princess' Guard want to know whether or not you're going to stay neutral." Said Soap. Always direct he was, ready to give the benefit of the doubt until he needed to give the bolt, or bullet in this case.

The looks on their faces was gratifying, to see them look taken aback, almost afraid. The woman had been joined by what he assumed to be their team. A few mutants that had him twitching his hand towards the stubber at his hip.

The way all of them jolted back was funny enough to make up for their shite liquor. Something about the psykers here not wanting to go lethal which was fucking ridiculous in his opinion. What exactly was keeping you from just fucking over everything if could just walk away from shit alive?

Made about as much sense as his balls, but if that how they wanted to play it, why not?

"The Princess? Wait. Does that mean you guys are all from another universe, you know the big one with the golden guy and the SPEESH MARINES!?" Asked the mutant. The one with the tail and the orange skin. Just a coat of pink and he would be a daemonette, the urge to put a bullet in his head was nearly overwhelming, why?. Because in letting mutants walk around like they were actually people, the inhabitants of this universe were very worrying.

"Step back a little there Newter, you look a lot like the daemons that these guys shoot for a living." Said the one… in green. What was it about these people and wearing bright colours? Did they want to be made into targets?

"Woah. Oh right. Shit." The orange daemon said, stepping back a little.

"So the Princess wants to know if we're going to be neutral? Something big going on then?" Asked the Commissar.

"You could say that, not for a while, but it will be over in a night, so long term stability is not an issue. If you would stay neutral, it would make things easier, we don't want to have to kill anyone that we don't want to." Soap said, the soft bastard. Just kill the damned mutants and get on with it, it wasn't like they were worth anything, they were mutants!

Price reached out to grab the drink, golden in colour, apparently expensive. He wouldn't know, 100 in pieces of paper for a glass, probably worthless. Who used paper to buy shit?

"So this… 'big' thing, is going to be very violent I assume?" The Commissar asked, hand on her hip, looking just a little irritated apparently.

"If things do not go the way we plan it to. Of course, with us here, it will go the way we plan it to." Soap grinned. 200 years of killing, not enough to turn him into a cynical little prick like Price, too much for him to be that fresh faced little ponce that had turned up at his door the first time. Nostalgia, how it burned.

Explanation time!

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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The questions had been asked, the Faultline crew or whatever they called themselves had agreed to stay Neutral, and everything had been solved satisfactorily. As for the rest of the time, well Price was sitting at a little round table along with the others of the Faultline crew, the green one with red hair, the orange one, the white one, the green one with yellow hair, the little khornate fucking one, the Commissar and Soap.

All of them were seated around the table, and Price was drinking. He wanted to get drunk, but the fucking mutants kept asking him questions. Seriously, who cared, just let an old man get drunk.

At least Soap was fielding most of them for him, good old Soap. Sure he was a little slow compared to Price, but that was because he hadn't spent another 200 years killing things yet. Price admitted he was fond of the man, like a son to him he was. Not those snot nosed little brats that he had somehow produced over the years.

Standard protocol really, each Phantine Skyborne was to pop a few kids, make sure that there would be more of them later. The women were ok with it, free accommodation and whatnot if they volunteered, the men that impregnated the women in the Skyborne got the same deal, look after the kids and they get paid. It all worked out in the end, perfect way to go about doing things in Price's opinion, he did his duty, he got to run away before the kids latched onto him, why? Because Price was a bitter old man and hope was dead to him.

Too many dead kids, too many dead friends, the old, the young, the middle aged, too much death altogether. He had killed far too many of all the above for him to give a damn.

"So… how do things work in the other universe?" Asked the orange daemon.

"How do you even know that we are from another universe in the first place?" Asked Soap. They had been briefed of course, they were the Skyborne and going into a situation blind was simply unprofessional. Apparently, they were from a fictional universe that the people here had thought up. There were inconsistencies, of course, the Caretakers didn't exist, Beacon Worlds, Warp-Lanes, the Mobile Suits. He couldn't imagine a campaign without a few Mobile Suits to back him up, the firepower was always welcome.

All of it was missing, and the universe itself was much worse than what it otherwise would have been, why? Because the Inquisition was many times worse, which was already stretching the limits of imagination, and the Imperium was at war almost non-stop for its entire existence with the Primarchs gone and nobody to lead them, there was nothing keeping the Imperium together at all.

Bureaucratic inertia, the worst enemy of the Imperium. He had "gotten" a few of the works via their communications network, or internet they called it. The theories as to why the Warp was the way it was made sense, but who gave a shit, he was a Captain in the Imperial Guard, he was the hammer of the Emperor. Everything else was a sidenote, if the higher ups wanted to go around screaming their heads off, who cared, he was just going to do his duty and that was that.

"Well… there's this universe called Warhammer 40k and like when you guys first showed up at the docks, someone pointed out how similar you guys were to the 40k stuff, like the tech-priests and stuff, and then you guys were using lasguns and stuff. And it was like, awesome you know? 40k man! Like Imperial Guard fighting against the enemy of mankind, all holding the line and shit! No matter the cost you know? It's so fucking cool man!" Price stared at the orange fucker. Did he think that it was cool? What did this little orange fuck know about war?

"Kid. You're looking at 600 years of experience killing the enemies of the Emperor between the two of us. Be careful what you say next." Said Soap, speaking for Price. Good lad that one, always stepping in before Price put a hole in the fucker in question. Always put a damper on a party when everyone could smell the shit and the brain matter.

"Oh… Ummm. Sorry." Said the Orange daemon.

"Yea, little bit of a sore point there lad, we've had to make hard decisions and it wasn't anything we would want to do again."

"Then why do you do it? Can't you just walk away?"

"Lad, you say you've seen where we come from. Tell me again what happens to deserters?"

"They get shot. Oh. Right." He looked a little down at that, good.

"Yes, right. We do what we do because we do, not because we can. Life ain't all sunshines and rainbow kid, don't go getting us confused with some do gooders. We aren't doing this out of the goodness of our hearts lad." He said, sitting back in the chair, spiel over.

"Ok. So. Um. What happens now?" Asked the Khornate impersonator.

"We've got 3 more hours allocated, we're going to spend them here, then head back to base."

"Where is your base?"

Price raised an eyebrow at the Khornate fucker, eyes boring into the eyepieces of her mask.

"Oh right. Confidential. Sure."

Price took another gulp of the glass. He wasn't sure what this was meant to be, but the fact that it had colour probably meant it was shite. Still, it was alcohol, he might as well drink it.

"Ummm. The other guy with you, is he going to be ok? He's gone through 6 bottles." Asked the green one, with the red hair. Too much green. Were they going for a jog in the forest later or something?

"What? Oh no, it'll be fine. This stuff is too soft to get us drunk. Can't even taste the alcohol. Makes me wish we had some ClearFyre or Amasec, that shit gives you a kick." Said Soap, gulping down his glass as well.

"That's 40% alcohol, it's the strongest we have." Said the Commissar.

"Only 40% no wonder it feels so weak. ClearFyre is 400%, Warp powers to condense it down, a bottle'll last you a deployment." Soap's voice was rather nostalgic and Price had to agree. That shit was the real alcohol. Not this piddly shit.

"Oh wow. That's intense." Said the Orange fucker.

"Not so much really, it's just bottom of the line, every Guardsman has a bottle in his backpack. That expensive shit that the Space Marines drink, that shit'll kill you." Said Soap, a grimace on his face. Just because they were normal humans meant they couldn't drink the alcohol of the gods, apparently the Fenrisian brews could knock a Primarch on his arse.

Or her arse. A skinny arse it was, but it was still an arse. The new Primarch was a spindly little thing but she was evening out, getting bigger as her powers increased or whatever the fuck it was. He didn't know, he didn't care. He had his orders, and he was going to carry them out… with a little leeway of course.

"So this Princess of yours. Ummmm. What is she? Why are you even here?" Asked the big white one.

"Emperor of Mankind's daughter." Said Price. Keeping it simple. Oh wait, they knew what a child of the Emperor was didn't they?

"Wait wait wait wait. Are you fucking kidding me? A Primarch? The 21st Primarch? Holy shit. We have a fucking Primarch on this planet. Oh shit. Holy shit. We are so fucked. But. Like. Awesome. It's fucking awesome. Awwww shit. Aw man. This is so awesome. Wait. Oh shit. Ooooooh shit." The Orange fucker was hyperventilating.

"Calm down Newter, what is it?" Asked the Commissar, that smoooth voice. Price could listen to that all day.

"The Princess is a Primarch. And the Primarchs are the ones who led the Great Crusade. She's going to conquer this planet isn't she?" Asked the Smart Orange Fucker.

Price raised an eyebrow, it looked like the Orange Fucker was quicker than he had given the Daemon credit for.

"Oh man. Fuck. So the reason you guys are preparing all of this is for her isn't it? Oh man. Like. You know?" Price's opinion of him took another nosedive as the daemon lost himself in his own train of thought.

"What he is trying to say is that the Princess is new and she isn't ready yet is she? That's why you're preparing all of this, so she can rise up and do her thing?" The green one with the red hair looked very disturbed.

"Doesn't that mean that we're going to be made into slave soldiers? They kill mutants in the Imperium you know? Oh man. This is fucked." Ah, the Orange fucker was back.

"Not necessarily, each Primarch is allowed to govern their world in the manner that they want it to be managed. So if the Princess takes over, doesn't that mean she can protect us?"

"But what if she is like the other Primarchs and executed mutants?"

"Well she was born here wasn't she? Won't that mean she's like… you know… compassionate?"

"Compassion in Brockton bay? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh right. Yeah. Ummm. Ok."

"Calm down. The Princess is built off of compassion, she won't be doing anything killing if she can help it, she's not that kind of person." Said Soap.

"A liability." Added Price.

"It doesn't mean that she is a liability, just that she's going to need to learn when and where she needs to put a lid on that compassion."

"Like I said, a liability. She's going to get good men killed if she keeps it up."

"It's why she put the Colonel in charge isn't it? Make the decisions that she can't?"

"And if she wants direct control? She's a Primarch, they aren't known for their sitting around." Muttered Price.

"You sound like you have experience. I thought the Primarchs were all gone?" Asked the Commissar.

"Don't know how it is in your stories, but our Primarchs and their Clones are still around. A few like Russ went missing, but the younger ones have stayed around. Price here fought with Angrone for a campaign." Explained Soap. The confusion on their faces was rather amusing, made up for their shite liquor at any rate.

"The lad's right. Served with Angrone, bastard didn't have the decency to slow down, had to fight in shifts to keep up with him. Fucking ridiculous it was." Price complained, his back still remembered having to sleep in moving Chimeras as the Primarch smashed on ahead. They had taken the planet in a month, but the entirety of the advance force, Space Marines included were wrecks by the end of it. The fucking Primarch looked like he had just finished a stroll.

Fucking ridiculous.

"Wait wait. Hold up. Clone Primarchs? Angrone? What?" Asked the Orange fucker.

"Your books didn't tell you? At around the end of the 31st Millennium, the Pillar of Penitence dropped out of the Warp and had the Clone Primarchs inside of it. All of them were still babies and the older Primarchs raised them up. A few of them took new names for themselves. Angrone is Angron's clone." Explained Soap.

"Wait wait. Cloning Primarchs? How? I thought they couldn't be cloned? What about the Traitor Primarchs?"

"Most of them are dead, killed by the Caretakers on Isstvan 4. The rest of them are still hiding in the Eye of Terror like the pansies they are. As for their Clones, they've proven themselves. No corruption here."

"Holy shit. That is insane. Totally changes everything."

"Yes, Sororitas Famulous Maxine has been looking through your archives. If the Caretakers had not arrived as they did following their mission, everything would have changed and probably not for the better. They've been instrumental in keeping the Imperium strong. If the stuff I've read about how our universe should have turned out is true, I'm glad the Caretakers arrived when they did, even if they are fucking weird." Soap never could keep his drinks, a few bottles of shite alcohol was still a few bottles of alcohol.

"You've mentioned these Caretakers a few times now, who are they?" Asked the Commissar, leaning forward. Price got an eyeful, looked like she was as flat as a lasgun, the little aquila was probably present though. Not that it mattered, her personality was key here.

Leaning back, Price waited for Soap's explanation, why? Because the lad liked to get on his soapbox. Price had a little mental chuckle at that.

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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#42

"So the Caretakers. They're… special. They're…"

"Wait wait. Can I record this? Is it ok if we post this online? I'll cover your faces and run them through a synthesizer to hide your voices! Oh, and I won't say anything about the world conquering either! Please!" The Orange fucker was certainly loud.

"Why not. It's not like it will matter much in the long run. It's basic history really." Said Price. Not giving Soap an out.

"Ok. Just wait here, I'll go and grab a camera." The Orange fucker shouted, running up the stairs.

"Just this ok? Anything else goes up and either we, or the Catachans are going to be paying you a visit. We'll even let you pick." Price continued, staring at the Commissar's faceplate. Her nod was enough to satisfy him. Leaning back he waited for the Orange daemon to come back down with his pict-recorder.

"Ok! I'm here! Let's get this baby set up!" The daemon said. Daemonnette? He didn't have an extra boob which ruled that out.

"Ooooook we're live! Wait. This is going live. Is that ok? Like people can see this in real time." He asked, looking at them with excitement.

"Sure, why not. Just let everyone who might want to gatecrash know that we've got a few Basilisks on standby." Price said, a little grin on his face.

"Wait… we've been targeted the whole time? Why didn't you say something!" Asked the Green and red one, even sounded a little upset.

"It was not relevant until this point." Price replied, putting his arm around the back of the chair.

"That was all live right?" He asked the Orange fucker.

"Ummm… yeah. All of it."

"Good, I don't like repeating myself. Any gatecrashers are going to be killed. Don't make me kill you, cooked human never goes well with liquor." Price said.

"Ok. So now that that is out of the way. Let's get started." He finished. Giving way for Soap to start speaking.

Only to be interrupted by that Orange fucker again as he asked, "could you introduce yourselves first? It would make it easier for those watching to know what is going on."

"Captain Price, previously of the 978th Phantine Skyborne, now the Princess' 1st Guard." Price grunted.

"Captain Mactavish, same as previous."

"How long have you been in service?"

"403 years, 7 months, 4 days."

"198 years."

"How did you get so old? Don't humans have a lifespan?"

"Of course we do. Juvant treatments lad, regrows the tele-whatmathing, reverses the aging process, let's old warhorses like us get back into the fight." Soap explained.

"What did you do while you were in the Imperial Guard?"

"It's the Astra Militarum lad. I killed things. Sometimes people, sometimes Space Marines, sometimes daemons, sometimes Tyranids. Doesn't matter, when you've served as long as I have, you get to kill lots of things. When I wasn't killing, I was training to kill more efficiently." Price said. He was a Guardsman, what did the Orange fucker think he did?

"Lad, when you join the Guard, there ain't much that you're going to be doing. You kill, you kill some more, then you die. That's the way things work out, especially for guys like us. All we know is killing, it's the same answer you're going to get from any of the Guardsmen that are part of the Princess' Guard. We're all veterans lad, even the greenest has been in more battles than years you've lived." Soap said, wordy as ever.

"So what is this Princess of yours planning to do while she's here?"

"Simple really. Kill the Endbringers. Bring order to the world. Rejoin the Emperor." Price muttered.

"What."

"Her orders lad. Kill the Endbringers as a test, unite the world, then rejoin her skeleton dad." Prince winced a little as Soap punched him on the arm, heresy wasn't as heavily scrutinized as in the this universe's written stuff but it was still disrespectful.

"Language Price, wouldn't want one of those Sisters finding something to chop off do we?"

"Right right. Ok lad. Anything else?"

"Ok theeeeen. I think that's enough of an introduction for our viewers. So let's get into the nitty gritty of it. You guys are from the 40k Universe as we call it, but also not, it's different and in a pretty big way apparently. Can you explain why?"

"Ok, the main point of divergence I can see in the universe that you know of, and our own, is that the Caretakers are present in our continuity while they are absent in your own."

"And these Caretakers are significant?" Asked the green one with the red hair. She was very clearly getting into it, elbows on the table, deeper tone of voice, wide grin on her face, mischievous glint of the eye. She was confident, maybe there was a Trump card to be had.

"Yes, the Caretakers are 2 Space Marine Legions that were sent on a mission by the Emperor of Mankind. Only something went wrong and they were stuck inside the Warp for 300 years. During that time they discovered many different technologies that have since proven their worth in the greater Imperium upon their return. At the same time, they discovered many worlds on their journey which they claimed as their own and have ruled them ever since." Soap demonstrated his Public School education as he regurgitated what must have been a very thick book.

Price closed his eyes and let it all wash over him, heightening his other senses in case there was something coming.

As for the story, he had heard Soap tell it a hundred times before to curious new troopers. It would be a nice way to help himself relax, if he concentrated, it was as if he could smell the promethium they used for the campfires.

"... ruled them ever since."

The Heroes had accepted an emergency summons by Armsmaster and were now clustered around a desk which had a screen on it. A screen that showed them what looked to be 2 men, each covered in scars that spoke to what must have been a lifetime of combat, which if they weren't lying… was a very long life to have lived. Their faces were covered, but their arms, necks, throats… each was like a canvas to demonstrate war, bullets, burns, cuts, and more.

"Sooooo if he's telling the truth… every single one of the Princess' troops is going to be some kind of killing machine?" Asked Assault.

"You don't know that. He could be lying." Said Battery, bopping him on the arm.

"Regardless of their actual amount of experience, each of them is already quite capable. Only the top 10% of each planet's militias are allowed in, which puts them at the level of our special forces." Said Dragon over the speaker. She had seen the livestream link go up on PHO and alerted Armsmaster in the first place.

"Why don't we just go down there and catch them? There's just 2 of them." Asked Velocity.

"They said that there were Basilisks on standby. Eyeballing each shell from the models available, each cannon appears to be approximately 250mm in caliber, nearly twice that of the standard artillery shell in popular use. And given the rather famous callousness that the Imperial Guard demonstrate to lives, friendly or otherwise, it is likely they are willing to die rather than be captured." Dragon replied.

"They also have laser weapons, I am not sure that it would be a good idea to try and catch them when they are waiting for someone to do that."

"Well, fuck. So what? We just watch?"

"Yes Assault, we just watch. It's information that we can use."

"Well, I'm going to leave that to you guys with your photographic memory. I'm out, give me the lowdown when it's over alright?" Assault said, walking out of the room.

Battery looked undecided before she joined him, it wasn't like she would understand what was going on. She left all the random geeking out to her husband.

"Why don't we just go and like fucking kill them you know? Just like fucking roll up and throw these bombs and explode them all over the fucking place. Basilisk my ass, I can make a bigger bomb with my toes." Bakuda whined, staring at the little screen that was in front of her. The Skyborne's arrogance in the way he just sat there and taunted her through the screen demanded an accounting of.

"No."

"You're Lung! Just charge in there and fuck them up!" Bakuda said piteously, her face twisted into what was likely her attempt at garnering sympathy. Which behind a gas mask did not work so well. Expressions in general, did not work out so well when one was looking from behind a gas mask. Something to consider for the future perhaps.

"I am Lung the Dragon. I am also Lung the Leader. I am not stupid Bakuda, one does not walk into a trap as well baited at this. We wait. Should the White thugs seek to strike, we shall cripple them in turn." The Dragon of Kyushu said, the cozy boy armchair that he was sinking into hiding part of his enormous body.

"But they control the docks! We can't get our shit in!" Cried out Bakuda, whirling around to face him.

"A temporary inconvenience. Does striking here rectify the situation in any way? You are allowing your anger to blind you. It is foolish. Focus your anger, and do it soon. I do not tolerate impertinence Bakuda." He said, voice flat. Even still, Bakuda flinched, she heard the threat implicit in the voice.

"Yes, boss."

"Good. Now watch. There may yet be something to learn from this." He finished, sitting back, bubble tea held in his enormous hand, sipping away contently. None of that sago shit, rainbow jelly for the rainbow man.

"Kaiser. They are daring us to strike at them. Why do not we accept?" Asked Hookwolf, standing at attention watching the large screen in Kaiser's sanctum. The other capes of the Empire 88 were here, each of them dressed, ready to sortie out if necessary.

"As my son oh so helpfully has told me, a Basilisk is the standard artillery piece of this 'Imperial Guard', each shell is approximately half the size of a man. Do you wish to test your resistances Hookwolf? What of the men you wish to send?" Drawled out Kaiser, his voice throbbing with underlying tension. The Princess' Guard as they called themselves had taken the docks and their probes against them had shown that they were very well entrenched. It would take a full assault to dislodge them and the casualties would be horrendous, leaving them vulnerable to attacks by the ABB. At least the Merchants had been destroyed. A small sliver of silver in an otherwise dreary day.

"Then we are to watch? Watch as they parade themselves before us? I will lead the attack! We will show them what it means to strike at the Empire! We will crush them!" Hookwolf growled out, his power activating in the heat of the moment, his arms and legs being consumed by the blades.

"And what would you do but prove that we are nothing but opportunistic cowards? Should we attack now, it will be all over the world Hookwolf, there will be no way to deny it, and should you be defeated… the stain will be permanent. No, you will not venture out tonight. There is too much at risk." Kaiser said, leaning back onto the throne in the center of the room.

All of them were frustrated which was very clear, the way each of them expressed it was different, but it was universal in the manner in which they craved to be let out and rage about. The manner in which they had been suppressed for months by the Princess' Guard eating away at them. He should not be so weak as to allow it to happen, but it was happening regardless, simmering away underneath their skin.

There would be a reckoning, but it would not be today, not for 2 of their own that were likely not even important, minor characters at best.

It was a bad trade and the Empire did not make bad trades.

Piggot had been part of a PRT response team, she knew what soldiers looked like. The men on the monitor before her were very much soldiers, very much weapons honed to a fine edge. She could see that in the way they held themselves, spat at the world in defiance. It had only confirmed what she had been considering as of late. That each and every one of this so called "Princess' Guard" were an outfit of proper soldiers, not refuse picked up on the street and armed like the other gangs.

Regardless of whether or not they were summoned from another universe, the fact that they held their weapons with such familiarity, spoke of killing as if it were just a chore… well, it meant that trying to dislodge them would be nothing but a pain for her and the PRT.

If it kept going the way it was however, there was going to be increasing pressure from up above to deal with them, something she was not sure she could do. What was she going to do? Ask them to let her men walk into range to foam them down? Foolish. But those in Washington were anything but intelligent she was finding out.

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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"... have ruled them ever since."

"They emerged again from the Warp in the days of the Horus Heresy which you have recorded down in rather stunning detail I might add. The difference being that at Isstvan 4, when the ambush was sprung by the Traitors against the Loyalist Legions, the Caretakers emerged shortly afterward and dropped to the surface. They demonstrated abilities which allowed them to cripple and destroy the Daemons of the Traitor Legions, cutting most of their advantages away, and ruining a large part of their assault force. At the same time, those later identified as Caretaker Captains dropped and personally killed the Traitor Primarchs, Lorgar, Perturabo, and Konrad Curze, dispelling their souls permanently.

"Following this, they disappeared again after crippling or destroying the Traitor fleets over Isstvan 4. Reappearing again over Prospero as it was about to be attacked by the Space Wolves, the Caretakers then told the Primarch Leman Russ of the truth regarding Horus and resulted in Magnus following Russ to Terra instead of trying to destroy one another. Their fleet appeared and reappeared over many different worlds that were under Traitor assault and destroyed the Traitors, crippling much of their fleet before reappearing over Terra just as the Primarch Horus was destroyed and the Emperor crippled.

"The Chaos fleet was breaking apart without Horus to lead them, and the Caretakers emerged just at the right time to catch them. They enfolded the fleet, crippled the ability of the fleet to drop into the Warp and then destroyed almost every ship in the Traitor fleet with the assistance of the Terra defence fleets, or rather what was left of the Terra defence fleets. It was rather quick compared to other conflicts or so I am told, the Caretakers brought with them 2 Glorianna-class Battleships, several Battle Barges, a few dozen cruisers and frigates as well as complimentary craft. The Traitors didn't have a chance."

"Wait wait. You're saying that these Caretakers basically dropped in everywhere that was a key point in the Horus Heresy and basically averted it? Like, what the hell? Could they have known about it in advance?" Asked the Orange fucker.

"There is speculation as to that effect but there has been nothing proven as of yet. The Caretakers have provided a great deal to the Imperium of Man and it would be foolish to seek corruption where there is none." Said Soap diplomatically, no point angering the Caretakers, there were too damned many of them and they were everywhere.

"Right, but could they have been sent by Chaos? Like, that much coincidence is worrying you know?" Asked the Orange Daemon.

"No, it is not possible. I will explain why in a moment. So, the Caretakers following the destruction of the Traitor fleets sent emissaries to the Primarchs that were gathered to discuss what was to be done following the crippling of the Emperor and an Empire without a leader. It was here that the first of the strangeness that came with the Caretakers was discovered. In fact, the Caretakers themselves are extremely strange on all levels, which will become evident as I explain.

"So the Caretakers arrived and began to talk to the Primarchs and it was revealed, that the leader of the Caretaker Delegation and half of the members were female."

"Wait. Hold up! That's not possible. You can't have female Space Marines! Each one is created from a Primarch, and all the Primarchs were male! You can't have female Space Marines! That's what the Sororitas is for! What the fuck man, that's just breaking all the fucking lore!" The Orange fucker shouted.

"I know not of how a Space Marine is supposed to function according to this universe, but in ours, there are female Space Marines. It is due to the corruption of their bodies after their prolonged stay in the Warp. 300 years is enough time to experience many mutations and fully half of the Caretakers were made female as the time passed." Soap said.

"Wait, so half of them are female, so that means that there were 125 thousand female Space Marines?"

"No, there were 250 thousand female Space Marines. The Caretakers were two legions joined into one by their experiences in the Warp."

"Holy shit, 500 thousand Space Marines right after the Horus Heresy, the Primarchs were probably thrilled by that weren't they?" The Orange Daemon said, cutting out the green and red one.

"Yes, which is where the next part of the story begins. The Primarch Roboute Guilliman wished for the Legions to the sundered to prevent another Horus Heresy, no Primarch would ever again control such a powerful force on their own. The others agreed if reluctantly but the Caretakers took a… different approach to the problem. You see, there was the technology that the Caretakers discovered which played a very large role in the way that the Caretakers handled the Second Founding." Soap took a breath here.

"Do you have something which I can draw on? You will need an illustration for this." He asked, the green and red one leaping to her feet to assist. Running to the bar and then turning back, she produced a sheet of paper… and a metal rod? What was Soap meant to do with that? These fucking people, did they not have quills?

"Here you go." She chirped, placing the items in front of Soap.

Price despite himself was interested, how did the little stick work?

"Ummm… put the pointy end on the paper and press down." Said the white one.

"Thank you, we do not have these in the Imperium, such a waste of material would never be accepted by the Mechanicus." Soap replied.

"Oh."

"Regardless, here it is." Soap presented his drawing, what looked like a large hourglass with a hole in the center, a Beacon.

"This is what is called a Beacon. It is a device that flattens out the Warp and allows for predictable and safe Warp travel in a certain radius around it, while also allowing for the ability to link to other Beacons within a certain distance, which allows for the flattening effect to be transferred outward, like a road. We call them Warp-Lanes and they have been instrumental in the deployment of the Astra Militarum across the Imperium, and to allow for the regularization of trade, allowing us to support many more Hive Worlds, which in turn allows us to support many more Regiments."

"So Warp travel is safe? Like no more ships getting lost in the Warp?"

"Well partly. They can still be lost if they do not travel along the Warp Lanes, and the Beacons themselves are not covering the entire Imperium, they simply do not have the manpower for that."

"Manpower?"

"Yes, you see, the Beacons are the reason as to why the Caretakers cannot simply divide themselves into Chapters like the rest of the Legions. During the 300 years in the Warp, the Caretakers themselves discovered these Beacons and how to produce them, but to activate one, you needed to bind yourself to the Beacons. Which meant that each Caretaker's soul is locked to their Beacons, when they die, they do not get to join the rest of humanity with the Emperor, but are instead doomed to be bound to the Beacons themselves for all eternity. Their sacrifice is what allows the Imperium to be as prosperous as it is today, only through the constant sacrifice of the Caretakers is it possible."

"Oh shit. Wow. That's fucked."

"Yes, the Caretakers have the ultimate duty in life and in death, for them, death is not an end to their duty, it is merely a new chapter in it. It does however, grant them abilities which allows for them to do things that other Space Marines simply cannot. Each is a small Beacon in themselves, able to flatten out the Warp, which is why Daemons cannot exist near them. Some have weaponized this and that was the cause for the destruction of the Traitor Primarchs.

"As a result, the Caretakers agreed to divide themselves, but only by Beacon, spreading throughout the Imperium to provide safe and quick passage through the Warp and ensuring the Imperium would always be connected. There are roughly 1000 active Caretakers per Beacon World, I will explain why in due time.

"The Caretakers themselves divided in two, however, The Caretakers and the Sojourners. The Caretakers had spent 300 years without contact of the outside world and thirsted for knowledge, and so the Sojourners comprise half the Caretakers and spread themselves to every single planet in the Imperium, several of them per world. There they gather knowledge, intelligence and disseminate it to those that require the information. The Sojourners themselves are open to any and all Space Marines, so many of the Legions dispatched large numbers of their own Legions to the Sojourners in order to allow them to maintain their numbers, while also technically following Roboute's demand for a sundering.

"As for the Caretakers themselves, it has been theorized that the Beacons feed on their emotions. And so as the Caretakers grow older, they become more and more desensitized to the world around them until it reaches the point where they become little more than Servitors. It is at this point that they are forced to return to a Beacon World where their emotions are returned to them by direct stimulus of the soul, torture in other words. As a result, there are many times the number of incapacitated Caretakers on each world compared to that of active Caretakers. As for the Sojourners, they rotate themselves as Caretakers when they need Stimulus, and rejoin the Sojourners when they are fresh enough to be able to experience the galaxy in full.

"Each Caretaker or Sojourner lives a life filled with constant suffering and eventual damnation, but they do their duty with a diligence that brings pride to all who see them. The manner in which they have assisted the Imperium is great beyond measure, and with the works you have detailing an alternate version of our own universe, we can finally tell what it would have been like had the Caretakers not survived their journey in the Warp. The Imperium would have been poorer as a result and I am not sure we would have survived as long as we have."

"That sounds like shit. Why would anyone ever become a Caretaker?" Asked the Orange fucker.

"Duty, it is a duty to the Imperium, one soul in exchange for millions more." Soap said, with as much dignity as possible. Which was not very much since he had drunk another 2 bottles during that explanation.

"You said they are weird, that sounds like lots of suffering, but what's so weird about it?" Asked the green and red one.

"Well, it is known that for some reason, the Caretakers become more capable as they grow older. Those over the 500 year mark often discard their Power Armour entirely as it is too slow for them and offers less protection than their own skin. However, the Emperor is a fair God and so curses the Caretakers at the same time. As they grow older and more powerful, they also become more eccentric and insane. It is not uncommon to see some Sojourners leading a battle wearing no clothing but instead wielding two power axes singing a song in a language that nobody knows, not even the cultists they are too busy chopping up. It is extremely worrying and strange and also disturbing to those that watch it. Other times there are Sojourners known for doing stunts that would be deemed suicidal anywhere else, some have jumped out of ships in low orbit to make impact on the ground without a grav-chute or even a parachute. Sometimes they break bones, but most of the time they emerge with little to no damage.

"They are fully insane and it is recommended to all Imperial Guardsmen to keep their distance in case they are drawn along in their insanity. They are all extremely capable, some even use 1 Heavy Bolter in each hand like regular Bolt Pistols, they are just very peculiar and it is better to keep your distance if you want to live." Soap finished.

"What about exterminatus' and stuff? Like the Inquisition going around and killing everyone who knows of Chaos and that kind of stuff?"

"Eh, things have changed from what you've probably read. The last time there was an exterminatus was when we lost Tigeriun to the Orks, the bastards were building something like 58 Gargants on the planet. As for the Inquisition doing "their thing", they can't do that anymore."

"What? Why?"

"Because, the Caretakers and the Sojourners, their flattening of the Warp? That kills Daemons. Add enough of them into an area and they can do this communal ceremony where they purge an entire world without needing to destroy it. Fucking ridiculous but it works. No more exterminatus' no more just purging populations for knowing about Chaos. They even have classes where they teach you how to recognize signs of Chaos and what to do. The Inquisition can't do anything since they are so big and powerful which really fucks with them let me tell you. Then there's the Sojourners which accept quests from normal people on their little message boards, so the investigation work that the Inquisition is meant to do, is usually done by the Sojourners anyway.

"The Inquisition has been made into an organization that mainly hunts Xeno now and higher up corruption which really gets to them believe me. They want to take down the Caretakers, but they can't, they're too important to the Imperium. Can you imagine what would have happened if the Imperium was left without the Caretakers? The Inquisition probably would ruin everything and make everyone live in fear. Thankfully the Caretakers prevented that. Peace and all that you know? The Imperium is much more tolerant now which is great. I worship the Flying Spaghetti monster myself."

"Wait wait. Hold the fuck up. You worship the flying Spaghetti Monster? Why are you still alive?"

"I don't understand? We have freedom of worship in the Imperium. While the Emperor is a God, there are also other Gods in the galaxy, so we know that he's not the only one out there."

"But don't you need to worship the Emperor? Like pray to him and stuff?"

"We do that through our Judicial System and our Bureaucratic system, no need to do it more. Can you imagine just praying all day? Would totally fuck someone up."

"But how?"

"Every time someone files a piece of paperwork, follows the law, judges a criminal, all of it is a prayer to the Emperor. Praying is just unfocused faith, totally worthless. Every time I reload my carbine, file a requisition form for more ammunition, wear my uniform properly, I worship the Emperor by following the requirements and law set in place by the High Lords of Terra. The Imperium is much more tolerant now, than ever before."

"But how does that even work?" The Orange fucker was looking more and more confused.

"Well, time's up, let's pick this up some other time hmm?" Price stood up, hauling Soap up at the same time. Let the Daemon wallow in it's curiosity, that and they needed to get back before the window of opportunity closed. The Psyker was a tempremental fuck.

"When?" Came the call from behind.

"How about next week hmmm?"

"Got it!"

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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#53

"Dude dude. Act cool. Katrin's coming over." Said Neil, his voice betraying a minor amount of nervousness and fear.

"Fuck fuck. Ok. Cool, acting cool." Said Bob, Emperor of Mankind. "Fuck me is she scary." He said, "Also really hot." He continued.

He didn't get to where he was by being cautious.

"What are the four of you doing?" Asked Katrin. Lilith was being held against her waist while Adam was holding her hand. They were going for a stroll in the newly completed Hitchhiker quarters created specifically for them by MAGI.

Bob was a permanent resident here, when he wasn't trawling the Multi-Verse with Malcador looking for babes and new experiences that is. The Caretakers of Bastion 001 who weren't on duty came by every now and again when they had free time to relax, it was a very nice and varied little place. Only it was also enormous in the eyes of the various uplifted organics who called this place home.

A flat disc the size of a galaxy, it was filled with the biomes of every single different environment that the Caretakers had ever discovered, while also containing enough teleporters that one was never more than 6 hours from anywhere else.

Every single client race had a habitat for them to live in if they so wished, large enough for a few million of their number. It was where the ambassadors for each race resided in order to maintain contact with each other and more importantly, with MAGI. The Krogan, the X-Humans, C-Humans, Yaomo, Eldar, various aliens from the Star Wars Universe, some higher ranking Caretakers, all of them were welcome.

Then there were those like Bob, Malcador, the Librarian, Adam, Lilith and Sofija who resided in the center due to their unique status as having been invited individually by the Caretakers. It was to concentrate them in a single area for maximum enjoyment of their interactions.

In this case, Bob was about to begin the trolling part of the plan that he and MAGI had worked out. It had been a blow to his ego when he had realised that he was nothing but a fictional character in another universe, one that didn't even have a proper name.

Galling really, he would have to pay them a visit and show them that he was very much real and was very annoyed at their portrayal of him.

This Taylor Hebert was going to be very interesting, she had an inner core of goodness that just radiated from her. Very interesting, the last time he had met someone like that, they had been killed trying to help an Ork with a toothache.

"Just helping out Taylor. Nothing bad. Promise." Neil said, hands palm out to show his innocence.

They were all very interested in being innocent, Katrin was very attached to children, and Taylor qualified. If she found out they were playing with her, even if it was harmless, their days would be very short and very painful for the foreseeable future.

She raised her eyebrows at them. "Really….?" She drawled, the disbelief evident in her voice.

"And it takes the four of you to do that?" She asked, her eyebrows rising even higher, almost to her hairline. She was doing something weird with her cells to do that they were sure.

"Umm well, we're just helping Bob out, he doesn't know how to talk to 15 year old girls" Said Malcador, quick on the ball, just as his position as advisor to the Emperor of Mankind entailed.

Normally they wouldn't be so worried, what with the two of them being extraordinarily powerful psykers that could probably crap out warpstorms if they really wanted to. The danger came more from the two little figures attached to Katrin, each one had enough strength to implode entire worlds if they really wanted to which was terrifying in and of itself. None of them wanted to test out just how far they were willing to listen to Katrin who was pretty much their mother at this point.

Bravery in the face of danger was one thing, insanity to not know when you should step down was another. In this case, it was better to accede, especially if she got Hannah to come over. Both of them were scary in their own ways, one with her fascination with knives that made the Dark Eldar look like shitty pre-schoolers, and the other with her ability to crush another's mind and assume total dominance over it.

Better to just follow along and agree to not fuck with Taylor Hebert, it would be best for their sanity.

"Good. She's a poor girl and doesn't need someone else screwing with her. If you do and I find out about it… well, you know what's going to happen right?" Asked Katrin, her eyebrows raised in that particularly threatening manner that she was so good at.

"Yes." The four of them chorused.

Say what you want about the HeMUs and the Minds, but they certainly had a way of making someone feel small. Even if he was the Emperor of Mankind, he was only the ruler of a single galaxy, the Minds had millions under their control if you counted the ones they made copies of to toy with the inhabitants of.

Oh well, it was time to begin trolling operation #1. They wouldn't be doing anything bad to the girl, just setting up her personality and nudging her powers in such a way that when Throne Emperor found her, and she was fully moulded and someone that was very much going to be different from what he would be expecting.

Bob had found out about the Primarch clones and had laughed about that for hours. 36 Primarchs? What couldn't be done with that many of them? Well, more like 26, the other 9 had gone traitor, but that was still a ridiculous number of super humans running around. That and the Caretakers, of which there were millions of, millions of Space Marines, because of course there were.

It was like Throne Emperor's universe was a dumping ground for every practical joke that the Minds could think up and when he woke up, he was going to be having a very bad day. It would be glorious.

Bob liked practical jokes, even if they were being carried out on himself, he could take a joke, so long as the person who was telling it was willing to die afterwards of course. Given that Throne Emperor would be weaker than he was, well he was going to be having a very good day all things considered.

His own Primarchs wanted to head down to the planet where the Taylor girl was, meet their sister and more importantly, punch some giant monsters. He was tempted to allow them, it would be rather funny if not for the fact that Throne Magnus was already in contact with the girl.

Oh well, he would figure something out. His Magnus was certainly getting antsy, meeting a new sibling as not something one did every day after all.

Back on Earth Bet

I'm going a little crazy here. There's another voice in my head. Because of course, it would, this was just how the universe worked, wasn't it? My head is just a waystation for any and all disembodied voices to come, talk their heads off and then leave again.

I looked up at the sky… or concrete as yet another voice entered my head. Another one. Yes. Totally what I wanted.

There had been Magnus, he had been very nice, explaining how my powers worked, how to make sure I was not over-extending, how to cope, all the things that I would need "going forward as the most powerful and only psyker on your planet", [his words not mine] for now at least.

Give another few months and I would also be the most physically capable human on the planet, able if I wanted to, fight an Endbringer one on one and emerge out the other side on top. What was important that I build my power base so that I can take this planet by peace when able, and force only when necessary. Again, his words. They sound a little too posh for someone like me.

If I didn't listen, I risked the problem that I might go and demolish everything, screw it all up. Our powers mess with our heads apparently, make us think we are more important than we are. Have to keep perspective or everything goes wrong. That and I am still Taylor no matter how much power I have now. Which means that I am very much not going to go and kill people. Maxine and Sergeant Black and the others keep telling me that I need to do it, but I don't want to.

But if I don't? Doesn't that mean that they are killing on my behalf anyway?

One could not conquer the galaxy without broken worlds or something like that. It sounded horrific and I am not sure I wanted any part in that. But Hurosius had shown me the graphs, the pie charts, mankind was doomed in 20 years at the most, the Endbringers would destroy mankind, and where they were unable to, force mankind to destroy itself. The current systems of governance were impractical, ineffectual, or at worst, actively damaging the future. I… I don't want to be here. Why do I have all this responsibility?

Why me?

Taylor Hebert possessed the power, I had the armies, she had the guidance, all I needed to do was just flex my power muscles apparently. It would mean that she would lead the armies, crushing all who opposed me underneath the treads of her army, something that would result in death, thousands if not millions of them. It sounded so good when I said it, but now… now reality was here and it wanted it's stuff back.

She/I was unwilling, to say the least, why couldn't this happen to someone else? I was a 15 year old girl. This was not how I should be spending my life, but that was stupid I can't complain, the world was not one where those with power had the luxury to choose their fates.

There had already been deaths, the Docks had been captured, the Merchants almost wiped out with Skidmark and Squealer dead. It had not been by my order, but it had been by my men, working on how they thought would best accomplish my goals. I had done it, I had killed them, unwittingly, but that did not matter. Their deaths were on my head and things were already going wrong with my body.

She simply did not care. I did not care. I did not care that they had been killed by my involvement and that was more terrifying than anything else so far. I was changing and whether or not I would still be Taylor in the end, was something I was not sure about. If it started with my inability to care about the deaths of a few Merchants, where did it end?

She/I was a Primarch, the pinnacle of human development, didn't that mean I would still be able to care?

It was then that the voice came into my head and spoke in a tone of voice that was so deep that it may as well have been through a funnel.

"Taylor. I am The Emperor of Mankind. I am your Progenitor. You may call me the Emperor of Mankind."

I stared at the wall opposite of me for a while. My room, a little one, with a bed, a desk, chair and drawer. I had refused the bigger one that was even bigger than my house that Maxine had said was meant to be mine originally, I didn't need that. What would I do with all that space? If anything I would probably get lost while inside.

Regardless the voice was in my head and I was unsure as to what I was supposed to do at this point. Reply like what I had done with Magnus? But this was the one that gave Taylor, me, my powers, wouldn't that be disrespectful? Wracked by indecision, I was unsure as to what it was I was supposed to be doing in the first place. No matter how much my body had changed, I was still the unsure child of yesteryear.

"Ummm… hello?" I said, tentatively in my mind and out loud.

"Speak with more confidence girl. I will not have my child so quivery. It says bad things about my seed."

I blushed slightly, I had gone to Winslow, I knew what he was talking about and it wasn't exactly the nicest of topics to bring up first thing. Especially since this was meant to be my father.

"Ummm… How should I speak then?"

"Lose the Ummm. It makes you weak. Always speak with confidence even if you don't know what you are saying. You are a Primarch, act like it."

"Ummm… ok. I mean, Ok."

"Good. I have all the time in the galaxy, what with me being a floating shard of a soul disconnected through no fault of my own. Damn sexy Eldar. No matter. I have time to teach you. I shall make you into a Primarch if I have to teach you myself. Which I will. There is nothing I can't do, I am the Motherfucking Emperor. I probably had sex with your Great-Great-Great-Great-Something Grandmother whatever it was. You have 1% of my genes, be thankful."

I felt a headache coming. My spiritual father was… interesting and it was going to get old fast, I just knew it.

Last edited: Nov 20, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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#54

Taylor was standing inside a vast room that was made entirely of a ferrocrete base with a ceramite outer layer as requested by the Emperor through her of the Kriegers. They had made it without much fuss, somehow able to pull material from thin air to do so, it was something that was certainly very strange but who knew how these things worked back in their original world. It certainly sounded strange enough with the whole insane people with superpowers thing.

As for Taylor, the Emperor had brought her here to test out her power set. Each of her brothers had their own specific area in which they were the most powerful, some with their physical abilities, others with their specific abilities for psykic power, others still with their intellect and ability to inspire others. Of all her brothers, only Magnus displayed the same breadth of psykic skills as their father had.

All of it was due to their psykic powers manifesting themselves in a particular manner to create something that was in a word, different. It was both a matter of nature and nurture, where each Primarch had a specific nature that was going to shine through no matter how much they changed, while the specific circumstances of their birth meant that each Primarch was also a product of their environment.

As for Taylor herself, she was yet unmolded, untested. Her specific abilities, her attributes were not yet catalogued. She herself did not know her speciality and it was why she was here in the first place. Her specific powers would be tested, her physical abilities, her psykic potential (which was already high judging by her ability to converse with the Emperor unaided), her mentality, and how much being a Primarch had changed her both physically and mentally.

It was a long list of things to do and Taylor let out a sigh, things were going to looong and the Emperor was not exactly willing to let her have breaks. The fact that she was a Primarch meant she was going to be able to go without sleep for days, which in turn meant that she was going to be in here power testing for days.

She had summoned a few more squads to max out her point limit, absently going by the requested section. A few more Catachans, a few Phantine Skyborne squads, a few more Death Korps of Krieg squads, a few Chimeras or whatever it was they were called, a Basilisk, and something else she had forgotten, it sounded pretty scary, though. She had just pressed a few buttons and put the summoning point in the middle of the biggest hangar that they had, she wasn't exactly sure why they needed all this, but the Colonel she had summoned said it was necessary.

Taylor was the Primarch, not the girl in charge of the military and she had given the ok, summoned whatever it was she wanted from a list then left for the training room. After a quick hug for her dad and a few words with Maxine about postponing their next lesson.

Maxine had been reluctant at first, but once Taylor mentioned that the Emperor was keen on testing her powers, the Sororitas had done an about turn so fast Taylor wasn't sure she hadn't drilled a hole in the floor. Apparently, the Emperor was a really big thing in their home universe.

Of course. I am the Motherfucking Emperor

And was also very talkative.

Still, she was here now.

What am I supposed to do now? She asked in her mind. Hopefully, he wouldn't say something like "summon a loaf of bread" and expect her to work it out on her own. She wasn't Myrddin, she was just Taylor Hebert, totally not a magical girl until a few months ago apparently.

She sighed again. Being put on the spot was something that was certainly worrying when it came down to it. She didn't like to be out on her own where someone could laugh at her and she didn't even have a partner to hide behind.

Stop moping. You are the first Female Primarch, stop being such a baby. Now! Let's get started. You need to try and make flames. Go. Get going. Go go go.

Taylor resisted the urge to facepalm. Here she was hoping that he wouldn't be asking the impossible from her, and here he was, asking the impossible. Was it too much to ask that people not do that? It wasn't even a very big request either, very reasonable she thought.

Ok. Flames. How was she going to to be doing this? Think about heat? Fire? Boom? Pow?

Taylor frowned. It was sort of difficult to get something done when you didn't know what it was that made up the beginning in the first place.

Well, we can say that instinctive use of your powers is off the table. Disappointing but not all of my children can be like me.

Taylor crossed her arms. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't some kind of space wizard.

Maybe if I do this… hmmmm. Yes. It might work. Why not. Here. Eat this.

A taste of… purple filled Taylor's mouth. She resisted the urge to spit it out, as strange as it was. It had texture that belied the fact that it was insubstantial, that it somehow could be chewed despite being something that had no bite. Rolling it around in her mouth, it had a feeling to it that went beyond simple food, it reverberated in her bones, tingling the flesh, gently working its way down to her extremities.

Swallowing it, Taylor understood. It was like having an entirely new world opened to her, begging for her to pull open the doors and to take her place as the rightful head of it.

It was empowering, amazing, scary. Taylor pulled back. The overwhelming urge to use her ability was terrifying, it had taken control of her and she had wanted to just go all out without a care in the world.

Breathing in deep she asked, what was that?

A guess. You who have been born in an inert Warp are unable to use your powers without some kind of stimulation. I have provided the stimulations and what was once dormant is now awake. You do have instinctive use of your abilities, merely in such a form that required activation. Now. Try fire again.

Taylor raised her hand and she knew just how to create fire from nothing. Hand out, eyes focused, and a tiny spark of "need", and it flourished. The conflagration that she had summoned blasted out of her hand, slamming into the wall which valiantly tried to resist before it melted away before her. The entire wall, not some tiny insignificant part of it. All of it melted.

"Whoops."

Try that again. Smaller. Controlled.

Taylor once again lifted her hand and tried to control the flame better this time. Only it created a lance of heat so intense that it burnt with a clear light, no sign that it even existed except for the flickers of blue and orange around the exterior. Instead of melting away the wall, it instead melted a clear hole straight through in a fraction of a second.

Smaller? You do understand what small is do you not? It is the size of your power compared to mine. Smaller. Less so.

I can't, it just won't listen to me.

How interesting. You are unable to control it on a basic level. Disappointing. But you are an infant. This is normal. All my children disappointed me once. Once.

Except Sanguinius because he's daddy's little boy.

Try creating a tunnel through the Warp for you to walk through.

Taylor concentrated and centered herself again. This time on creating a portal in which to traverse from one side of the room to the next. It would require her tunnelling through the Warp which was much easier in this universe apparently, it wasn't all messed up like the Emperor's universes' Warp was.

With a slight push and a little "need", the portal opened, this one being just the right size that she envisioned. Strange.

Why is this so much easier to control than the flame? She wondered.

Something to consider. Now then. Let us try scrying. Let's look on your Maxine, she is a Sororitas, no doubt she is praying somewhere.

Taylor nodded, Maxine was always a good person, she did whatever was needed and puttered around the base. The idea of praying was strange for someone who was agnostic as herself, but she had never seen what Maxine did in her spare time, maybe she really did like praying? When your entire universe wanted you dead, it made sense to pray.

This time she put both hands up, palms facing towards the ceiling, settling at waist level. Eyes closed, Taylor envisioned a door, a "need" and a slight pulling.

Opening her eyes, Taylor looked at the pool of silvery light above her palms. A little focus on Maxine and it cleared away to reveal a bird's eye view of Maxine… and Sergeant Black… and no. Nope. She did not need to see this. Nope.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Humans doing human things. Oh, how I miss that feeling. But I cannot for I am made of bone and am locked to a golden throne. Yes. That is the reason.

The Emperor's laughter reverberated in her skull. Oh, the images, the mental scarring. She was too young for this. Why? Why God why?

Ok, that was funny. Space Nuns don't take vows of chastity. Good to know. Ok, let's try healing. Call in one of those flashlight soldiers of yours.

Taylor nodded. It looked like today was going to be a very long one the way things were going. There were no doubt many different powers out there and she was clearly going to have to go through all of them. Joy.

Taylor yawned, the testing had gone on for 3 days and now that it was over, she was faced with results that were rather confusing.

Apparently, her ability regarding the destructive areas of her powers was something that was extremely dangerous. Not in the destructive potential of the powers, but her inability to finely control them. Each time she called upon those powers, they came with the maximum amount of destructive power possible, completely destroying whatever was in front of her.

She would need to use them only when there were no friendlies in the area, to do otherwise would be risking a lot of friendly deaths.

As for the abilities that "benefited" others, those were the ones that she had the most control over. Able to control the power in which they expressed themselves, able to control the most minute of interactions, of controlling the amount of strength in which they occurred. In healing, she was able to ensure that each and every cell, muscle fibre, vein, and bone was connected with perfect precision, even able to recall a time when they were perfect and re-enacting it.

To heal mental trauma, to repair damage, anything that was for the betterment of those around her, these were the powers that she had the highest level of affinity with. Everything else was rather average, her Warp-Walk abilities were average at best, her ability to send things into the Warp, her ability to fly, all of it average and required a great deal more effort than things like healing did.

As for her other abilities, her body was still developing, having not been able to fully absorb the power that her psykic abilities were pumping into it as of yet, but it was getting there. Currently, she was about as powerful as a 1000 year old Sojourner, whatever that was meant to mean. She would need to ask Maxine apparently. Her body in terms of resistance was also quite significant, able to resist physical trauma, muscle degradation, and things like lactic acid buildup. A body that was fully capable of withstanding whatever it was she needed it to and coming out the other side fully intact.

In short, everything about her was still technically in development still, but a general idea of where she would end up was had by the Emperor. While her physical abilities would only be on the level of Magnus (only), her psykic potential was up there with the Emperor himself. It was just too bad that her abilities were focused towards areas like healing.

As for her mind, her emotional blockers were self-inflicted the Emperor found. She couldn't handle the flood of emotions that her powers entailed, the empathy coming standard, and so it had shut down a majority of her emotions so that she could function normally. Learning to handle it all would be yet another lesson she would need to go through every day.

As for her intellect, she was now at the general Primarch level. Remembering everything she saw, learning everything taught, her body and her mind the perfect receptacle for knowledge and experience. Given enough time, she should be able to become the most intelligent and physically capable human on the planet.

Given time, of course, time that the Endbringers were not willing to give. They needed to go but not yet, she didn't have the ability as of yet or so the Emperor had told her.

But soon. It would be soon.

Last edited: Nov 19, 2016

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

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Deleted previous. Did not have the proper colours and formatting.

"Wait wait. You did fucking what?" Malcador shouted, his Emperor had just fucking… Done… oh... the amount of adjectives in the galaxy couldn't describe what he had done. They stared down at the little pool which had allowed the four of them to see what the Emperor was doing with the Taylor girl.

"I changed her powers, like, made them like the total opposites of what they should have been." The Emperor of Mankind, Bob said. As if it were the most innocent thing in the world.

"Hold up. What. You just fucking changed her powers? Without asking her? Why? Why would you fuck with her like that?" Malcador asked, his hand pressed to his forehead. "Did you forget about the warning just now?"

"I could take her… probably. Anyway, it would be pretty fucking hilarious man. Think about. She was all about the explosions and shit before right? Totally switched her focus, now she's all about the nature, and happiness, Kum By Fucking Ya! So when she goes back to Throne Emperor, he's gonna get a daughter that's a total fucking hippy!" The amount of glee in Bob's voice had Malcador facepalming himself.

"And what about when she needs to kill those Endbringers?" Malcador asked, bringing up a point that he felt that Bob needed to consider a little more closely.

"Eh, she's still got the power, will totally be fine man. And… uh… if it isn't, I'll like add a little boost you know." Bob said, scratching the back of his head.

"How did you change her focus, to begin with? It's ingrained in our souls."

"Well not really, like, I made her right? Like put a bit of my soul into hers, gave her the powers and shit, so she's like… not born with them right? And she's still absorbing them so it's easy to fix it up while she's like not all there yet. Like changing wet ferrocrete you know? Hard when it's dry and easy when it's wet. Oh, fuck. Ew. I did not just fucking imagine my daughter as wet and dry. Fuck. Fuck you Malcador."

"Yes, yes. Fuck me. So you did all of this so Throne Emperor would get a hippy for a daughter? Why?"

"Dude, don't you remember the hippies? Like every time there was peace and shit, they'd be out and all "let's go hug trees and do drugs and shit" fuck hippies man."

"You're just angry that they didn't let you build your golden mansion in that one rainforest."

"Fuck off. I'm not that petty."

"Riiiight. That's why you went and made their arses explode with shit every time they were on live television."

"Wasn't me dude. Maybe they should've eaten their fibre the fuckers."

"So… this new focus… what is this going to do to her exactly?"

"Well…"

Fucking plants. What the fuck is this supposed to be? What the actual fuck?

No seriously, what the fuck? Ever since Father-Emperor did that weird fucking thing and unlocked my powers, I've been… like… I don't even fucking know. I didn't even know anything was happening until Colonel Knight told me. It was only half an hour ago!

"Ummm Princess, I know that you are excited about having your powers unlocked, but why don't you tone it down a little bit? It's making it harder for us to walk behind you." She says. I don't know what was going on, I thought she was just joking about my new dress, but noooo. I have a fucking trail of grass and moss and flowers and shit growing out of the ground behind me. Like what the actual fuck?

Also a dress. I have those now. Which is nice.

I can't control it at all, it just grows, every footprint has more stuff growing out of it than the bits in between, but that's still a lot of fucking green stuff. Dad even made a dad joke. I shall never forgive him. "I've heard of green fingers but never green feet." Bah.

Then it changes apparently because of course if fucking does. All depends on my mood or something fucking ridiculous. If I'm feeling annoyed, there's these little fucking rock rectangles that come out they even have their own plant hats, if I'm angry then I get like literal fire. If I feel good about something then I get golden stars, like rub hand on smooth wall and then I start fucking shining.

Ugh.

I have to walk around in the fucking room next to mine. No furniture, no nothing. Because the fire sets all my shit on fire, it doesn't burn anything but it looks scary as shit. Fuck. This is just. What the fuck? Why me? Did I ask to have some kind of fucking emotional indicator coming out of the ground behind me? Did I ever imply that this was how I wanted my powers to work?

What was wrong with just like fireballs and shit, it's like some kind of sick joke by the universe I'm sure, because of course, it is. Or maybe it was Father-Emperor, but why would he do it? What would even be the point of it?

Uuuuugh.

"Taylor? Do you mind if I come in?" Ah great. It's dad. Just the person I wanted to see me being a freak, THANK YOU UNIVERSE.

"Hey, dad. Ummm. It's sort of on fire in here."

"It's ok kiddo. I heard it doesn't hurt or anything." He even sounds so sorry for me. What the hell? Pity Taylor day?

"Umm."

"Don't worry kiddo, I'm here for you." He walks in. Just fucking. I just.

He hugs me. I start crying. I don't know why I'm crying but here I am. Crying. Because this is how my life should be, out of my fucking control. Fuck the universe, fuck it in the ass.

"Hey, kiddo. It's going to be ok, I'll be here for you alright?" He's trying to be supportive or whatever they call it. It's kind of funny but I'll take it. He's not doing that good at it, but dammit, I'll take it. The hug's the important bit. Just. Just. I'll just enjoy it. Just yeah. I'll just stay here for a bit.

"Well, at least you're not angry anymore." He says. I try not to sigh, emotional quotient of a brick, that was dad. Can't let me just stay here for a bit longer? Too much to ask?

Still not angry? What was going. Oh. Really? Really universe? Is this how things are going to be? Fuck you.

There's little clouds behind me. And there's rain. Because of course, that's how me being sad would look like. At least the water's not spilling everywhere, localised rain, because why not. It's watering the plants at least.

Which brings up another point, if I stay still in one place, the effect will just spread out, I don't know how far it goes, but I really don't want to test it.

Testing. Hmmm. I can test my powers maybe?

"Ummm, Dad. Quick question." I say, a little apprehensive here. It's not every day a daughter asks her dad the big questions.

"Sure Taylor what is it."

"If I could like… cure your baldness, would you accept?"

I can't see what he looks like, but I'm pretty sure that the way he's stiffened up that I've hit a sore point. It's not like it's his fault, it's genetic… I think.

"What brings this up Taylor?"

"Well… you see. I have these powers which are like... able to heal and stuff you know? So… like… I could regrow your hair?" I kind of blurt it out, but who cares. I can cure male pattern baldness, worship me!

"Um. Sure Taylor. If you think you can do it."

"Ok. Just. Give me a second here." I close my eyes, and try to see what his hair should look like. Just give me a moment. Just a little more. And a little seed, a little germination. It's like trying to grow a garden really, just a little more difficult and intense. Just a little more. And there we go. Perfect.

Now then. A little bit of "need" and oh wow. That was not meant to happen. Umm. What should I do now. That is. Ok. Wow. Ummmm. Woops?

"Taylor? What did you just do?" His voice is a little muffled… which makes sort of sense?

I pull out of the hug to get a better look at him and try my hardest to stop giggling.

I fixed his baldness, but its like… to his feet. It's like dad is pretending to be a girl or something, wearing a wig. I just. I couldn't control it and started rolling on the floor.

It didn't feel as bad as I thought, sort of felt pretty comfortable actually. The plants made a nice floor cushion, one use for this weirdass power at least. Not the best one, but the best I've got.

So what now.

I get up think about cutting that hair for him and wait. No. Bad Taylor. I remember what happened when I tried using the flaming sword thing that Dad-Emperor had told me to try. No little sword, always with the super big ones. Bad idea. Would have killed dad. Real dad, very fragile mortal dad.

Ok bad idea. Taylor, never do that again.

Gotta think a little Taylor, can't just use your powers everywhere. Not gonna work, what if you kill someone you meant to save? Bad idea. Ok.

So damned tired. All this… power shit. Just. I just want to lie down for a bit.

"Hey dad, anything you wanted or did you just come to give me a hug? I really needed it, don't get me wrong." I say, totally not fucking awkward at all Taylor.

"Yea kiddo, been meaning to ask you how this whole thing is going along you know? How you're holding up." He sounds a little awkward, runs in the family I guess. He's using his hands to part the hair, looks like someone peeking out of some curtains.

"Yea dad, the same as the last 20 times you asked me."

"It's a little different this time around kiddo, you've got proper powers now. They change the way your mind works apparently kiddo and… and its a little worrying." He really does sound worried.

I give him a hug.

"It's ok dad, the trick is to know that your mind is being changed and working around it. I just need to remember that I'm Taylor every now and again you know? You being here helps. Just… just keep being dad." I say, and it's true I guess. Sort of became true as I was saying it, having dad around just helps me remember who I'm supposed to be. Can't just turn into Taylor the Primarch, that wouldn't be Taylor Hebert and I want to be both.

"That's good to hear kiddo. Really me worried there for a second. I want to be there for you kiddo, when I heard what happened with the locker… I…"

I squeeze him harder, not too hard, I could break him in half and kill him by accident. I don't want that to happen, no. That would be very bad. He's my dad. And like… body parts and blood and stuff everywhere. Eww.

"It's okay dad. It was my fault for hiding it from you. I didn't want to worry you, you know? After mom was gone and all." I try not to cry again.

"Kiddo, it's my fault too. Dammit, we're two peas in a pod aren't we."

I let out a wet chuckle with that.

"It's not so bad dad, I have you around this time."

"For as long as this body holds out on me Taylor. I'll be there for you."

I smile a little bit, even with everything going to hell, at least I had my dad back.

"Oh right. What about the docks dad? What's going on over there?" I ask, need to show I care about dad's stuff too.

"It's been going a little… strange kiddo. The whole Krieger thing's scared a few of the guys, but once they showed they were just going to card us when we went in, nothing's really changed. They look a little scary but when they beat off a few E88 and ABB gangs that tried to attack us for being on the docks… well, the guys started appreciating them a bit more."

"Well that's good, I was worried about them being a little too much you know."

"They are really intense aren't they?"

"Just a little." I say, holding my fingers up to do the calliper motion.

We both chuckle at that.

A Story: Apathy, Commanders, Hitchhikers (PA Multicross)

Another Story: Dawn of Worm (40k/Worm/ACH Crossover)

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George12

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Nov 20, 2016

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#62

"So. Director Piggot. What are your contingency plans so far?" Asked Director Costa-Brown. The two of them were talking via webcam, terrible quality but it had to be done, some tinker-tech, some more landlines and a few more little toys were needed to make sure that their communications were secure.

The "Engiseers" as they were called were extremely dangerous when it came to their ability to tap into the internet and through that information, databases that they by all rights should not have access to was a concern not just for the PRT but the world in general. There were Thinkers and the like that could have done so for years now, but the problem came from the fact that these Engiseers could write semi-sentient-autonomous code to hunt information for them. Hiding away in data drives, waiting to be plugged into offline hard sites, taking what they wanted before being returned to the network but a clueless menial or director. Every single USB was now a possible carrier, every single piece of technology an infiltration point.

It was a terrible thing, a terrifying thing. That their lines of communications could be breached, that their data storage methods were compromised, everything being suspect. It was not an over-reaction either, the fact that in their civil war, they had written code that brainwashed and completely changed the personality of others like them indicating how much of a threat that they were.

There were a confirmed 4 of them, all seen during Armsmaster's reconnaissance of the Docks and of their drones that had been maintaining a constant presence in the city. None had been shot down, likely as part of efforts by the Princess' Guard to minimize their threat levels until they were going to conquer the city. It was not standard doctrine Piggot had been led to understand, the Imperium as they were called, did not negotiate.

The assumption that they were indeed from the 40k universe had pervaded those in control of policy as well as those who were in charge of the country itself. The worry was certainly there, a hostile force that was planning on invading the country and securing it for their own control.

So many things that needed to be worried over, that needed to be acted upon. The more hardline military chiefs were already calling for immediate tactical nuclear strikes to eliminate the threat before it became too large to control. Some in the PRT and the Protectorate were calling for the Hero equivalent of the same and there had even been a few Directors offering to loan out their troops and heroes to assist.

It would make her feel warm and fuzzy inside if not for the fact that she knew it was due to their fears of her being just the first stepping scene in the way of future conquests. A kill-order had been discussed but in light of the revelations of one Captain MacTavish under the command of the Princess, it had been held back temporarily. If this new universe was as tolerant as they were saying it was, was there now hope that they could negotiate? It was a small hope, but it was still one that more than a few directors had latched onto.

Regardless the National Guard had been mobilised, ten thousand men, their armour, their support ready to move at a moment's notice. There had not been any overt actions as of yet, startling the new arrivals and having them strike out blindly could cause irreparable damage, they were from a universe after all where city block levelling weapons were standard issue. Concern for the civilians and concern regarding the fidelity of what they were about to be exposed to was holding back the deployment of conventional forces. The Army, the Navy, and the Air Force were on permanent standby, nuclear weapons ready. It was too uncertain for them to be sending forces into the city, if it was interpreted as an act of war, then things would not end well for any of them. After they had appeared, the Guard had stayed where they were, not making overt moves after the first strike at the docks. Enough for those that called for caution to have a leg to stand upon.

Laser weapons that could strike instantly with the force of a .50 cal bullet? Artillery that used explosives that could destroy multiple tanks? Having a Primarch around that could possibly summon the entire army from or into the Warp? Far too many things that were uncertain for the military to deploy its forces. Far too many variables, far too much risk. Further, the intentions of the Princess' Guard had not been fully explained, beyond a quote by a single man. Until the intentions of the Guard was explained, they would be forced to wait, the potential pitfalls outweighed the benefits of an immediate deployment.

They were not stupid, nor were they blind. The Endbringers were weapons that were poised directly at the hearts of the world. They had seen the reports, that the world was very likely going to be facing complete annihilation in 20 years, that the human race was going to be destroyed, reduced to living like they were in a post-apocalyptic world… if they were lucky.

The interview had revealed to them that things were not as simple as they had once thought. The idea that this "Princess" was here to conquer the world had taken a turn when MacTavish had revealed she had orders to kill the Endbringers. That she was to bring order to the world, whatever that meant. In turn, that meant she was likely on the level of the other Primarchs if the stories of them were correct and if killing Endbringers was a coming of age test, well, even the hardliners were willing to sit and wait.

If she came through, then it was a complete change in the playing field, she would be the saviour of the world at this rate. Assuming she could keep her promises. That combined with the idea of the Imperium being much more tolerant than it was in the written storyline changed opinions further. The Imperium was vast, it had power and resources beyond imagining. Attempting to fight against it would be the height of foolishness.

But if they were able to negotiate with the Princess to bring the world, or at least America and Canada under her wing and keep their positions… well, the politicians were salivating at the thought of it, as well the military and civilian leadership. So much potential not just for the world… but their own positions.

The idea that she was not here to conquer but to absorb had changed many an opinion. Whereas before they had been left, wondering, unsure, frightened of this new player on the field. Rightly so even, the enemy was one that according to the universe they had inhabited would prefer to see a world shattered rather than accept resistance, and the most intractable of their armies had been present, the Death Korps of Krieg that had shelled a city of billions for 2 decades until all life had been lost. They were in the city, they were looking to be as intolerant as the stories judging by the massacre of the Merchants at the Docks.

But now? Now there was something else. The livestream had shot around the world as if borne by wings of hope. The views were in the billions, billions of people (or a few million that watched and rewatched the stream), had seen it and they had exploded with hope. The fact that there had been a 40k theme of some kind had PHO going into a frenzy, a small bit of stimulation to brighten their day. With the amount of reading and exploration of the 40k universe, was it any wonder that an interview by soldiers from that very same universe would spark so much interest?

Especially one titled "Interview with Imperial Guard, Live from Brockton Bay, Faultline's Club". It was a move that had seen people diving for their headphones, all the better to catch each and every word in full detail. The resulting revelations had changed everything, particularly the first few minutes.

Piggot felt it herself, it was hope. They offered hope.

It was so simple, "Kill the Endbringers, Bring order to the world, Rejoin the Emperor." The simply line had changed everything and the internet had exploded from that point forward. Entire message boards dedicated to the idea of anything being able to kill the Endbringers. Scion had proven his ability to drive them off, but to not kill one, yet here was a being who was supposed to be so powerful that crushing worlds was in their power, being ordered to kill the Endbringers.

It brought hope.

Hope tinged with apprehension to be sure, the idea that there was a being so powerful as to kill the Endbringers essentially conquering the world. A being that represented a governmental system that was very willing to kill billions of its own in pursuit of what felt like very foolish decisions and policies. Something that no doubt the entire world was guilty of committing the very crimes that would see them branded as heretic for searching up the idea of "Chaos" on the internet.

Yet as the explanation continued, that things had diverged fundamentally at the initial start period of the Imperium, that things were not the same, that everything had changed, that small blossom of hope began to swell.

When they spoke of religious tolerance, of freedom of expression, it had become a shrub. When the words "flying spaghetti monster" had left his mouth, it bloomed into a full tree.

Even if he was overselling it, this was an Imperium that the people of the world could see themselves belonging to. The apprehension was still there, however, how did one explain away an entire galaxy's worth of policies and decisions? The fact that the both of them had over 600 years of experience killing in the name of the Imperium told the tale that it was not a peaceful Empire but one that was still engaging in war, one that was still fighting against enemies that may even be just as terrifying as those inside the written works.

The fact that they were coming back next week to explain further had settled many fears and Piggot had checked the message boards. The PHO in particular, had over 1000 pages on the livestream, what must have been tens of thousands of people coming in to ask questions, to have their fears soothed away, to be told that it was going to be ok.

What happened next week was going to be interesting if they kept their word. That was for sure at the very least. Striking now would do nothing but turn the public against them, unwise. The politicians were waiting, ready to jump horse as needed to be on the side of public opinion, jockeying was still a concern even as the world spiralled to a slow death. It kept their options limited as of now, keeping everyone happy was just as big a concern as dealing with the threat on their shores.

As for Piggot, she was being torn in half between 2 factions. One that wanted to allow this "Princess" to stay as she was until it was time to strike at the Endbringers, to see if she was truly as capable as they said she was. The other wanted to strike at her quickly, not to destroy her but to at the very least cripple her armies so that she could not fulfil the second part of the order that her father gave her.

Piggot on her part was just worried about what this meant for the gangs. They were going to take that order as a declaration of war, which it rightfully was. The first place she would bring order to was naturally her home-base of Brockton bay, a place that was home to 3, no 2 gangs. Piggot predicted a full-scale gang war to break out within the next few weeks. What happened during it would inform her decision as to what to do with this Princess.

If there was a way to take out the 2 gangs and allow the Princess to solidify her control over the city, then maybe it was the best choice. It all depended on what it was that the Princess planned to do once she had control over the city, the idea that she could fail never entering Piggot's mind. The gangs were just that, gangs. Against a proper army that had spent centuries honing their craft against monsters many times more terrifying than man? They were going to be wiped out.

The manner in which they were wiped out was the question. Would Piggot need to mobilise her forces and push them back because of the damage that was being done? Or would she be able to sit back and watch? The fact that the Phantine Skyborne were in the picture told her that it was very possibly them that had killed Shadow Stalker. Which again was an issue that needed to be considered.

If they had indeed killed Shadow Stalker, the question of why had to be asked. What had she done that deserved cold blooded murder? The fact that she had done something was firm in Piggot's mind, the Ward was very much mentally damaged and likely tried to attack them or something similar, maybe even killed one of their number.

Regardless, if they took the city in such a way that minimised or even prevented civilian casualties altogether, she would have to consider the idea that they were very much telling the truth in their desire to bring Order to the planet.

If they did not and acted like a bull in a china shop? She would be giving her weight and leaning in on the kill order.

Director Costa-Brown was on the line to check on what she would be doing after the gang war. It would happen, the aftermath was what was in question.

Piggot didn't know herself, her pieces were on the board, but how to arrange them?

"I don't…" She began only to be cut off.

"Director? A call for you… from a Nunciate Advance Maxine of the Princess' Guard."

Well now… wasn't this interesting?