8
"You must be absolutely friggin' out of your mind." Duck yelled at him for the tenth time. Doctor Mallard turned his head, purposefully looked right through her and returned his attention to his new hobby- levitating. He hovered a few inches off the ground in a meditative position, his face a picture of absolute serenity. He wore a plain white robe, and his specially designed chamber was completely white and totally empty of any objects whatsoever. He spent most of the day here now, in solitude, or conversing with the healing gods and godesses; Asclepius, god of medicine, his daughters Panacea and Hygeia, godesses of health and hygeine, Saint Kevorkian, patron saint of negative restorers, Spatula, guardian angel of orthopaedic surgeons, and especially Lord Doan the Underqualified, un-god of post-apocalyptic emergency measures. He seemed quite happy in his new religious rapture. Quack called it sixth-circuit consciousness. Quack had been in this state ever since he had been removed from his involuntary bond with the Titan Asdatesco Reductio. Since he wasn't physically fit to re-enter a meaningful relationship with the god-machine, Quack had taken over the role of Princeps. Coincedentally, Quack already had all the correct plugs in the back of his head to be a Titan Princeps, as well as a Dreadnought operator, a Land Raider captain and a holistic toaster technician. His first act was to customise the Titan by giving it a new coat of white paint and painting the words 'Med Squad' on the front in red, removing all the heavy weaponry and designing it a huge storage compartment for medical equipment.
"Yes, but have you thought up any ideas on how to do it?" asked Mallard innocently. Duck gave up.
"It's probably a big plug. So we need a strong hand to pull it out. It's a good job we've got this Titan." said Quack.
"I don't think it'll be as simple as that. If the Emperor ran on electricity, he'd die every time there was a power cut. We need to understand the energy supply if we're going to be able to permanently remove power from it." suggested Drake, "Jack, you know all about plug-pulling, what does the Emperor's life-support machine run on?
"The souls of underachievers." said Jack, leaning against the wall. "Everyone knows that. If a psyker isn't doing so well at school, they throw him in the machine. It's barbaric."
"Then we'll have to stop it!" enthused Mallard.
"We would need to break the psychic link. The best way to do that would be to cause a huge psychic explosion." said Drake, "I suggest we talk to a powerful psyker."
"Is there anything else we need?" asked Duck, writing it all down on a clipboard and feeling like a character in a surreal computer game.
"A distraction." said Drake, "A big one, so we can get in unseen. We aren't powerful enough to go against the entire might of the Emperor's Custodians, and I don't think they'll observe our protected status as medics."
"Maybe an Ork invasion would do it? I have friends in high places with the Orks."
"We'll consider that later. Dealing with too many issues at once can cloud the mind. First we need to find a psyker." said Jack, "Urien Rakarth is the greatest psyker of my race, but he isn't powerful enough. This isn't a matter of a simple warp explosion."
"What do you mean?"
"The psyker might need to battle the mind of the Emperor himself. I doubt that he will surrender so easily to our ending his life."
"He would need to be a God!" gasped Drake.
"Then we'd better get going." said Mallard.
"Where to? Don't tell me you know where to find a God!"
"Of course I do. At the Holy Shrine of Asclepius on planet Huntingdon 7!"
"You must be absolutely friggin' out of your mind." Duck yelled at him for the tenth time. Doctor Mallard turned his head, purposefully looked right through her and returned his attention to his new hobby- levitating. He hovered a few inches off the ground in a meditative position, his face a picture of absolute serenity. He wore a plain white robe, and his specially designed chamber was completely white and totally empty of any objects whatsoever. He spent most of the day here now, in solitude, or conversing with the healing gods and godesses; Asclepius, god of medicine, his daughters Panacea and Hygeia, godesses of health and hygeine, Saint Kevorkian, patron saint of negative restorers, Spatula, guardian angel of orthopaedic surgeons, and especially Lord Doan the Underqualified, un-god of post-apocalyptic emergency measures. He seemed quite happy in his new religious rapture. Quack called it sixth-circuit consciousness. Quack had been in this state ever since he had been removed from his involuntary bond with the Titan Asdatesco Reductio. Since he wasn't physically fit to re-enter a meaningful relationship with the god-machine, Quack had taken over the role of Princeps. Coincedentally, Quack already had all the correct plugs in the back of his head to be a Titan Princeps, as well as a Dreadnought operator, a Land Raider captain and a holistic toaster technician. His first act was to customise the Titan by giving it a new coat of white paint and painting the words 'Med Squad' on the front in red, removing all the heavy weaponry and designing it a huge storage compartment for medical equipment.
"Yes, but have you thought up any ideas on how to do it?" asked Mallard innocently. Duck gave up.
"It's probably a big plug. So we need a strong hand to pull it out. It's a good job we've got this Titan." said Quack.
"I don't think it'll be as simple as that. If the Emperor ran on electricity, he'd die every time there was a power cut. We need to understand the energy supply if we're going to be able to permanently remove power from it." suggested Drake, "Jack, you know all about plug-pulling, what does the Emperor's life-support machine run on?
"The souls of underachievers." said Jack, leaning against the wall. "Everyone knows that. If a psyker isn't doing so well at school, they throw him in the machine. It's barbaric."
"Then we'll have to stop it!" enthused Mallard.
"We would need to break the psychic link. The best way to do that would be to cause a huge psychic explosion." said Drake, "I suggest we talk to a powerful psyker."
"Is there anything else we need?" asked Duck, writing it all down on a clipboard and feeling like a character in a surreal computer game.
"A distraction." said Drake, "A big one, so we can get in unseen. We aren't powerful enough to go against the entire might of the Emperor's Custodians, and I don't think they'll observe our protected status as medics."
"Maybe an Ork invasion would do it? I have friends in high places with the Orks."
"We'll consider that later. Dealing with too many issues at once can cloud the mind. First we need to find a psyker." said Jack, "Urien Rakarth is the greatest psyker of my race, but he isn't powerful enough. This isn't a matter of a simple warp explosion."
"What do you mean?"
"The psyker might need to battle the mind of the Emperor himself. I doubt that he will surrender so easily to our ending his life."
"He would need to be a God!" gasped Drake.
"Then we'd better get going." said Mallard.
"Where to? Don't tell me you know where to find a God!"
"Of course I do. At the Holy Shrine of Asclepius on planet Huntingdon 7!"