Reviews:
Guest: I could see it being called Emperor's Day. Omnissiah's day might be better because the God-Emperor is viewed as the Omnissiah made flesh.
Airsickairman: Don't worry, I will get back to the story. It is just that holidays I plan to do something special for are all right next to each other. But once we get past February, there will be no specials until October. Glad that you like the story, I know it is frustrating that the main story has been pushed back.
Death Korp Commissinar: Glad that you are cool with me using Fucking Soup, other than that I am pleased that you are enjoying the story so far. And I would sooner turn traitor than stop writing this story.
Speech Syntaxes:
+Speech+ Lingua-Technis
"Speech" Low Gothic/English
"Speech" Amplified Low Gothic
*Speech* Sounds/Background Noises
Chapter's Pre-Readers: JVMMM
Notes: Finally back mates! Inspiration to write has been lackluster, hence why it took so long. I am going to skip over the fights that remain cannon because I do not want to write it out, but if you want to experience what the fights look like than watch the episode on youtube. Also, I may or may not have delayed the release of this chapter to land on the day of the one-year anniversary. The discord invite code if you are interested is hu5HdXn. With the announcement of the four factions in the Engine of War book (ad mech, imperial knights, chaos knights, and daemons) some new Adeptus Mechanicus have been dropped. And by the Omnissiah are fucking cool! The of skitarii on fire breathing metal horses (too lazy to check the actual name) makes me envision a wild west themed army with every skitarii with a tiny cowboy hat with the tech-priest being the sheriffs. Then there were the sicarians with wings, and one looked to be carrying a flamethrower. They were cool, and I can see great conversion done with those models.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Middle of the Game
At two in the morning, Jacques Schnee ended his call with General Ironwood, and he was not mad. The head of the SDC was currently raving. 'What kind of guts does it take for some…goddamn low life scientist to demand from Ironwood 50% of my…MY exported dust! 50%! That is half of my profit thrown away! This treacherous cur think that they can boss me around?! I shall end this debacle myself!' Jacques picked up his scroll and skimmed through his contacts, once he reached the target of his wrath, he firmly pressed the call button. "Doctor Polendina…do you mind telling me what the FUCK YOU ARE DOING! YOU CAN'T TAKE HALF OF MY…MY DUST FOR ONE OF YOUR PUNY AND WORTHLESS PROJECTS!"
The doctor was unfazed by the verbal assault, in fact he was reading a report that sat at his desk. With a heavy sigh, Polendina razed his glance towards his scroll. "General Ironwood has given me half of all your produced dust? I should have expected him to mess that up without giving him any numbers. In reality it should be around 75-80% of your dust, but since you called me at such a convenient time, I shall make it 80%. Now now old man, there is no need to get livid. For I shall subsidize all the dust I have…acquisitioned. Please turn your twitching eyes away from me and onto your monitor for your security system. You shall find that I have set it to your son's bedroom already."
For a moment Jacques was stunned. He was told that his secret security system was impenetrable, but this doctor has found out about it and had already hacked into it. The Schnee stammered, "You…what…how?"
"With the graces of technology my friend," answered Polendina as he stood up from his chair. He walked into the deeps of his lab while shouting behind his back, "Now if you look closely, you shall find a peculiar red dot resting upon the bridge of Whitley's nose. This is the result of one of my multiple snipers." The doctor's voice got covered when he started rummaging through his pile of reports. Eventually Polendina found what he was looking for and approached his scroll again. "I could care less if you think that my statements are false or true, because going against me would me that you shall find the answer and a dead heir. You could claim that your son means nothing to you but losing one of your family members to terrorist would harm your reputation as a man that makes the White Fang scurry away in fear. I shall pay you by keeping your son alive, while you keep silent about all of this. So, until next time because I have some serious work to get back to. Oh, and please do tell Ironwood about the newly arranged amount of dust."
The room went silent as the call was terminated, leaving the head of the Schnee Dust Company alone with his thoughts. Jacques's chest rose and fell to the tempo of his rage, his breathing was depth and audible. 'That Oum damn scientist! He thinks that he is getting off scot free with this attempt on my business!' "This is the only win you will have Polendina!" cried out the Schnee as he slammed his fist onto his desk in defiance.
The sun was rising on Beacon academy, it shining rays refracting against the polished floors and illuminating the board game. Ozpin have slanted his scroll so that Pugnus - who was on the other end of the call - could see the chess board. "Queenside castle," echoed the synthesized voice of the Magos Dominus as the Headmaster moved the pieces accordingly. Ozpin's hand glided above the board to his back ranks, his queen side rook repositioned to D8 in response. Pugnus was not even fazed by the Headmaster's increasing defensive. "My rook takes your knight on D7. Ozpin, what are your plans to defend Vale during the Vytal Festival?"
Ozpin paused in thought before answering, "The security of the Vytal Festival has been moved unto General Ironwood. I assume you heard about that in the news. My rook on D8 takes your rook on D7. Pugnus, what are your plans for security during the Vytal Festival?"
"The security of the Vytal Festival has been moved unto General Ironwood, I was passed for the promotion," commented the Magos Dominus as he gazed upon the board. His cogitators calculated all possible scenarios in a manner of seconds. "Rook to D1." Ozpin's enacted his premade plan by moving his most dangerous piece, the queen, one space forward to E6. Pugnus was about to declare his move, when an alarm on the Headmaster's scroll blared its alarm.
"Oh, it appears that the first match for the Vytal tournament is about to start. Would you care to watch it with me?" offered Ozpin to make amends to ending their game short.
Pugnus paused for less than half of a second, his augmented mind running through every possible option. "I am afraid not, Headmaster. There are…rituals that require my specific attention. Until next time Ozpin." The tech-priest ended the call with a swift flick of his mechadendrite, every machine spirit stationed in orbit was crying out for vengeance and blood. The task to pacify them for now will the most strenuous out of all missions on this primitive world, but the Magos Dominus only had to keep them at bay for so long. And the timer was ticking down, or at least the predicted time of the attack. A giant festival that the majority of the nation's citizens were watching would be the perfect target for a terrorist organization.
Birdman was strolling through the bustling streets of Vale, his pockets filled with wallets and Lien recently acquired by him. But something was scratching in the back of his mind, his instincts were telling him that someone is watching him. Faunus get this sort of six sense, similar to how a bird would notice that a fox is creeping up on it. The petty thief was alert, his hand unconsciously moved closer to his flail. The Faunus turned into the first alleyway he could find, unholstering his weapons as he reached the end of it. The familiar feel of his flail and shield calmed his nerves as he waited for his stalker to reveal themselves from the crowded streets. *Me-yow me-yow*. Birdman has been around animals for a long time in his life, and to his trained ears this was not a cat. Instead it was someone imitating the sound of a cat, and it was convincing at best. *Me-yow me-yow.* Again, the call was sounded, the familiarity of the signal was wracking his mind. 'I know that sound. Who knew call? Who create signal with? Mead-man in jail, not him not him. Who other than mead-man?' Birdman glared to the roof tops, his secret siren was revealed in a flame-retardant suit. The raven faunus spoke in his watcher's voice. "Good evening, gentlemen. If you sewer rats can even be dubbed as such. It is obvious that we will be employed closely for the time being. By my honor I will tolerate your existence and uncivilized nature, after this contract is concluded we shall hopefully never see one another again."
"You could never comprehend how bizarre it is to hear your own voice replicated through another human being," stated Sir Bar as he slid down the pole. "After betraying the witch, it turns out that there were others that committed similar actions and lived to tell the tale. I have elevated through the ranks of this counter gang and now have direct connection to the boss. It was not an arduous feat, for the syndicate is filled with a majority of White Fang deserters that survived with little experience. I can commend you to the boss, and at least she will not threaten you with your life like the enchanter. Who knows if you would be welcomed, but you might even be able to free your alcoholic colleague." Brenn stuck out his covered hand to the Faunus in a gesture of brotherhood, the raven took a moment to comprehend the offer before their hands meet in a firm but not rough handshake. Flakes of his skin peeled off and floated to the ground as a smile formed on Sir Bar's face.
General Ironwood ended his call with the head of the Schnee Dust Company. A call would not describe it properly, it would be more of a one-sided rant. James contemplated returning to Atlas just to find out what the hell Polendina is doing which would require that amount of dust, but his job as head of security of the Vytal Festival bound him in Vale. If he was a religious man, he might pray for Oum for guidance or let the ends justify the means. If. The General flipped his scroll to the camera feed in the drunkard's room only to find him asleep on the cold metal floor with his back to the camera. To wake him up for questioning would be pointless, a tired prisoner is not a cooperating prisoner. But moving him to a different cell should put him out of his comfort zone, which could potentially help in questioning. Ironwood flipped to the next camera, it was team RWBY - if he remembered correctly - talking to someone. Presumably one of their friends.
"Oh yeah, looks like Merc and I are going to move on to the doubles round. What about you guys?" questioned the green haired friend.
Ruby held a prideful face. "Well, as the leader of this team, I thought long and hard about this decision."
"We put it to a vote," corrected the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company.
The team leader stuttered and stumbled before catching herself, "Yes. Ah so, but I decided that we should put it to a vote!"
"We voted for Weiss and Ruby," stated the team member who wore a bow as she gestured to the two mentioned teammates. General Ironwood flipped to the next camera without care, just another crowd of unknown civilians acting through their normal day lives. James questioned himself why he was doing this, when he already assigned a group of his subordinates to monitor each camera. But it did serve as a nice break between the monotony of the paperwork and emails he must fill out.
Ozpin sat silently in his office as he watched team JNPR charge against team BRNZ from Shade Academy. His full and undivided attention was focused upon the match, each person upon the field under the scrutiny of his trained and experienced eye. The headmaster's gaze was broken off when he received a text from a special individual. It was Ozpin's eye in the dark, Qrow Branwen, and he was not happy about his task of translating the Adeptus Mechanicus's language. Removing everything unnecessary within the text message, it devolved down to it being a job for a scientist because the static speech is more than just binary or morse code. The language appears random at face value but there is a pattern hidden underneath, for there are always rules for any language. Until an idea formed in Ozpin's mind. 'What if what they are actually speaking is the sound of them transferring files of information to each other?' The headmaster entertained the idea for a brief moment before he reached a conclusion, 'No, that is illogical. Based on Pugnus's character, he is not a man who does anything unnecessary. Let's see if General Ironwood's lingustistcan solve this.' Ozpin ordered Qrow back to his previous mission as he proposed his idea to the Atlesian.
Dominus Ferrum stood alone in the headquarters bunker at FOB Wraith, the constant dripping of water from a leaking pipe upon the dirt floor being the only sound. The other Dominus was with Precision and Eights on a grim hunt, and the datasmith was performing the ritual maintenance on the kastelans robots. *plop* The isolated tech-priest twitched in time with the drop of water colliding with the ground. Her rage subsided, as another droplet started to form. 'The Magos Dominus always has a plan, and he has not failed me yet. From the insurgents on Estaban III to the assisting House Raven against a green skin waaagh, he has not abandoned me. But now Pugnus expects me to just wait for the enemy to strike first? I am not even assigned to the extermination patrols! This is outrageous! It's unfair!' *plop* The sound of the droplet brought the Dominus out of her rant.
Doctor Polendina watched over the construction project as it was slowly being pieced together by the construction workers. The design was a modified version of the Imperium of Man used when he abided by the unjust laws of Terra. Main feature was that all hints of gothic architecture was removed for more of a sleek and modern Atlesian theme. The door squeaked open on its rusted joins, a man with greyed hair and a slightly sullied lab coat slowly entered the room. "Doctor Polendina, everything is going according to your plan. My colleagues and I have been curious about what we are building, we are starting to wonder what the machine actually is."
The hidden tech-priest turned around to face the scientist, he had never bothered to learn his name because he was not even a footnote in his plans. Verraeter countered as he stepped closer to the inquisitive scientist, his larger height allowing the tech-priest to loom over him. "Did you pay attention when you read the brief?"
The old man took a step back, it was clear to the tech-priest that his intimidation worked. "Yes, Doctor. I did pay attention, but it is ju-"
"Then you should what we are building," interrupted Polendina as he sent an almost mechanical glare towards the curious scientist. The old man began to slowly leave the room to be stopped by Polendina's voice "Please do tell your comrades that further questions about the project that have already been answered will not be tolerated, there are others that will gladly take your current positions."
"Magos Dominus. I recognize your authority over all encounter on the planet, but do you expect me and my fellow nobles just to wait for the enemy to attack humanity before taking action?" questioned the Baron as he stood in front of the tech-priest with a map of Remnant between them. The electronic eyes of Pugnus were glued to the terrain as if all the answer to his ailments could be found there. Every potential outcome was slowly processed inside his augmented mind, scanning for the superior result. The knight pilot spoke again, "Magos Dominus, I require an answer."
The tech-priest's eyes were taken away from the game board and onto the mildly pissed noble. "Baron Siezant, you must realize that it would do more harm for us if all of our knights are deployed to the surface. It would result in a tactical victory, but not a strategic victory. Besides orbital bombardment, you are our trump card. Currently. It is like when you play poker and you show the other player your superior hand while they can still fold. Sure, you would have earned the pot, but you could have earned more. And every Throne you could have earned is another one hundred civilians saved."
The knight pilot gave Pugnus a confused glance before hardening his expression. "I am curious why a tech-priest would care about a few civilians who are not loyal to Terra or Mars."
It was clear to the Magos Dominus that this was a test, for the noble would want to save as many civilians as reasonably as possible. "The views of the civilians are the key to having a smoother annexation of this primitive world. In this game, I will win no matter what. That is certain. But I do not want to waste the lives of the servants of the Omnissiah when they could be saved."
Afterword: I am assuming that Ironwood does not know all members of team RWBY, except for Ruby and Weiss because he conversed with both of them. He does not know about Blake or Yang because his job does not include spying on children.
Hey reader, how is it going! Toaster here! I would like to announce that this is the one-year anniversary of this story! It may be cheesy to say but all of your support in following, favoriting, pms, and/or reviewing has made me the happiest I have been while writing this story. Thank you all for reading this whether it be while I am writing this or when I am finished. Since this is the day of this story's creation, I am going to talk about my current plan for the story (it might change in the future). Basically, after this season is done, I am going to complete 2-3 more seasons. I am planning to wait for the Salem fight until Rooster Teeth does it first, unless if y'all want me to try that. Also have basic plans for another Ad Mech story after this story is done.