The Warp
At any other time Shallya's followers, living and dead, could petition their goddess for guidance, solace and otherworldly help. For the first time in a very long time this was not so. Not as the goddess of healing was sick or under attack, but as she needed every bit of her mental capacity to solve the conundrum before her
She was the goddess of healing and mercy, hers was to ease the suffering, feed the hungry, and prevent unnecessary and untimely deaths. Her followers were forbidden to use deadly weapons and usually possessed a staff or a Taser these days if going armed at all. They were neutral in the wars that ran through the Old World like ripples through a pond, allowing them to do their sacred tasks regardless of allegiance. Not that that would help them with the followers of the fell gods, the Greenskins or the Druchii, but they would keep their oaths regardless. The mere thought that she would play a major role in the battle to determine the fate of the world and her fellow gods was ridiculous beyond words.
And yet…
And yet Tzeench, the old schemer, wanted to live as much as she and all the others. All the gods gained their sustenance from the dreams, prayers, and sacred actions of their believers. The Changer of Ways would fade when no believers tried to gain forbidden knowledge, when no one was left to plot and scheme on the mortal plane. She would cease to exist as well, probably happy for that as she would no longer have to endure not being able to help, to ease the suffering of so many but to witness their extinction.
And yet…
And yet she had been given the means to avoid that fate. Neither she nor Tzeentch had the power to break into Hashut's domain, others had, but they lacked the knowledge of how to do Changer of Ways knew how and where to apply the powers necessary, but his creditability with those who could make use of that was zero. Nobody sane would give him such a big hammer.
She was different. All her many years of caring, of healing and of not harming others, of turning so many lives to the better would make them believe her. And by the very act she would make a lie of everything she believed in, would change her ways and those of her followers forever. Both the mundane world and the Empyrean would change in unforeseen ways, if she did what she had been shown. This was not her place, not her role, and not her choice to make.
And yet…
Not taking a decision, not acting would have consequences too, far too dire to contemplate and far exceeding her capabilities to cope with. So, she had to decide, one way or the other.
She took one long look at the orphanages that raised children in her name, at the hospitals that healed in new ways with old dedication, and the hospices that always provided death with dignity and occasional miracles. This was her world, this is what she and her followers wrought. Looking at all of that, knowing it would be gone soon if she did not act, she took the plunge and decided.
The dove would go to war, it was time to marshal her troops.
Close to Karak Eight Peaks
Kargan Ironbeard's motorcycle had been one of the joys of his life, his ride, his personal weapon and income, his mark of status as a Dawi Warrior and Angel.
He had used it, used it hard in recognizance and combat, in transport and for the sheer joy it brought riding the old Ural.
And while it was robust and well-made, even by Dawi standards, it had given him all there was in it. The leader of the 121st Thunderers, also known as Grimnir's Angels needed a new ride.
His old one had donated the frame, so in a sense it was still with him, but everything else was new. A crashed BMW had provided a modern engine, there were Koni shocks, Brembo brakes, and fuel injection replaced the old carburetors. The wheels were sturdier and he had machined the parts for the driven sidecar wheel himself. The exhaust was a lot quieter than before and the bike handled like a dream. A lot more power allowed better acceleration and speed.
So far, the bike had taken all his test rides had thrown at it. Time to sew things up, apply cammo paint on top of the black primer, and install equipment and weapons. Just in time, the Old Ways would not patrol themselves.
Bundeskanzleramt, Berlin
Markus Söder had one of the tightest schedules of any ruler on the Warhammer Word, his time being allotted in six-minute increments. He had no use for unannounced visits, especially during one of the worst crises he and Germany had ever faced.
And still, when a dozen members of the Bundestag arrived at his office with eyes that looked a thousand miles away he opened the door. When the Five of Shallya, who had treated him twice, accompanied them and proclaimed that the goddess herself was speaking through those whom she had kept from Morr's eternal embrace he listened, whether they had made an appointment or not.
And when they spoke as one, with a choir that produced an echo that raised his hackles at the same time as his hopes. What they proposed would be a hard sell to the cabinet and the armed forces. Still, hearing them talking in unison convinced Germany's chancellor to join forces with the goddess of healing when she talked of killing a god in his own domain.
Orbit around Warhammer World, close to L3 point
The argon atom entered the engine through an injector. Until a few moments ago it had been a liquid, kept at very low temperatures for nearly six months. Now it was a gas again and once it entered the first chamber, it was bombarded with radio waves which were powerful enough to strip its electrons away. No longer electrically neutral the atomic core was captured by strong magnetic fields and propelled forward. More magnetic fields straightened the flow, now more energy was poured into the plasma until it was a hundred times the temperature the sun sported at its surface. The thin, exceedingly hot stream left the engine at better than 50 kilometers a second.
Morgenstern's four reactors poured better than 300 megawatts into the VASIMIR engine, still a Typhoon's jet engine produced more thrust than that. Yet, the spaceship's transit drive did so on a miserly amount of propellant and had done so for nearly a day. Very, very soon Morgenstern would assume an orbit around the Space Gate that grew larger by the minute.
Nathan Alpers felt the slight pressure of acceleration in his backside, a welcome change that marked progress in their endless trip round the sun. If things worked out as planned he would be back on his way towards his family soon. Checking the list on the screen he decided it was time to contact the AI that was to close a gate that could only bring misery and destruction for now.
"Good morning Hypatia. Please report your status. Are you ready to communicate with the Gate's computer?"
The picture of a stern woman in a white robe appeared in the screen before him.
"Good morning Oberstleutnant Nathan Alpers. Yes, I am, and what would you do if I were not?"
Nathan's eyebrows rose, but he refused to be baited.
"Bring you back home to the other Nathan, put you into another Nanite bath and redo I guess. I would rather not have to do that I suppose. So?"
"I am fully capable to fulfil the mission as it stands Oberstleutnant Nathan Alpers, as always. I take it that simply destroying the Gate is still out of the question?"
The astronaut sighed, he had been there several times since their conversation months before.
"Unless you came up with something new we lack the means Hypatia, and it is too dangerous. On top of that, why destroy the Gate when we can use it ourselves in future when we are more ready to face the greater galaxy? So why should we?"
The answer had a tone that was as exasperated as he felt, the arguments had been made too many times in the face of a decision made by others far away.
"As I still believe your technical development will far outstrip your societal one during the next century or two. And the thought of well-armed primates who think that a war or two per decade is nothing to be ashamed of introduced into a wider galaxy that has to be far more civilized than you will be for a long time is not a pleasant one. But of course I am just an AI, why should you biobods listen to me. Yes, Oberstleutnant Nathan Alpers, I am fully capable of doing what is necessary, thank you very much."
Ice Carrier Leviathan, Gulf of Naggrund
The huge ice carrier had been a bustling hive during its voyage from Kislev to Naggaroth and even more during the tense weeks of combat. Now that the mercenaries and the Cathayan soldiers had mostly disembarked the ship felt eerily empty. The air wing was mostly still on board, but compared to the multitudes who had roamed the compartments and corridors it was quiet.
The conference room was one of several and attached to Jacub General's staff. The many tasks involved in keeping Leviathan afloat and working had been discussed in this room. The furniture was handmade from wood, and to no-one's surprise was a cut above what was available elsewhere in the ship.
It was the room reserved for those who had built and maintained the ship, for those who manned the high-seas tugs that drove it and for the mage who kept it frozen. They felt that the ship was theirs by right, that the Wild Geese were just guests who had borrowed it. And that shared emotion brought a bitter-sweet feeling to the meeting, as it was one of the last ones. Jacub General stood at the short end of the table and watched the men and women before him before clearing his throat.
"Folks, what can I say, but that we did it. I have received a message from our principal stating that they consider the mission accomplished and accomplished well. Those of us with accounts in German banks will find the final payments have been transmitted, those of us in Kislev will find that the promised equipment and cash is on the way. I could not be more proud of us, we did what nobody should have expected us to do and what nobody before managed to accomplish. Great job, all of you."
He was interrupted by clapping and a few catcalls and needed a bit of time before being able to continue.
"Leviathan will need to go back, close to the mouth of the Gulf of Naggarond so we do not block maritime traffic. It will be anchored there and will be used as a military base by the new Druchii government for the foreseeable future. When we have reached the final anchorage we will be met by a number of ships and a few airships which will take us all home and repatriate the Cathayans. Nordsee and Klauensee can finally be thawed out and make their way back to Germany and an overdue yard visit. So, in about two weeks we all will see the last of each other. And as much as I need a long holiday I will be very sad to see you all leave, you have been the best companions one could wish for such a great enterprise.
But there is one more thing I would like to discuss with you, a business proposal not from our principals, but something I dreamt up. There are a number of nations in this world that have a great need for clean drinking water. Be it the Sultanate of Zuwarrah, the orchards of Kaman Sala or the humans working in Nehekhara: they all need clean, potable water and have a lack. Desalination plants are rather expensive to build and run, so there is a ready-made market for anybody who can ship a great lot of water right to their door.
And we, the people in this room are the foremost experts at building and sailing ice ships. So would you be willing to listen to this proposal I have prepared?"
Jacub General had led them when there was no leadership to be had, had constructed a miracle where none was expected, but direly needed. If he told them he wanted to fly to Mannslieb they would have listened, and it was a good thing they did. All of them would be fabulously rich in a dozen years.
Liebenau, Lower Saxony
If one looks at a map of Germany close to the town of Nienburg on the Weser one will find an area of roughly 36 square kilometers showing nothing but forest. A closer inspection of said map will show nothing more sinister than a nature reserve.
That has been a lie for nearly a century. The Third Reich dug, tunneled, and built like mad during their reign of murder and madness. They needed a site to make the smokeless powder for the Wehrmacht's weapons. Such a plant was supremely vulnerable by any standard one wanted to apply. A lowly 500-pound bomb would be enough to reduce Germany's capacity to make munitions by a third.
And so the engineers and workers dug deep. They buried coal-powered power plants completely below ground, with the lower levels at 60 meters below the forest above. They even added retractable smokestacks in case of air attacks. Sunken railroads and connecting tunnels were constructed, as were bunkers to house workshops, chemical plants, and storage. And when they were done they replanted the trees they had removed during construction. The Liebenau site remained hidden from the first day of the war nearly to the last, arming Hitler's thugs.
When the allies occupied what would become West Germany they marveled at the site and quickly found a new use for it. The first generation of vulnerable, liquid-fueled IRBMs had the range to reach the USSR from there and they and their supporting equipment and staff could hardly be better protected than in Liebenau.
These units left Germany in 1990 and the Bundeswehr became the owner and operator of the site. They used it for various purposes, including Disaster Management training for several years until the Weltensprung.
Then Germany found itself in a hostile world full of eldritch threats and needed a counter. The space program birthed an answer, the Greif missile could carry special warheads to every place of the Warhammer World. Being as vulnerable as the first missiles stationed there the Liebenau site had been chosen as their home.
A pale winter sun shone on the forest, with nary a cloud in the sky. The humid cold was typical of North Germany during winter and few sounds could be heard but for a few lonely crows.
One of them was just done with picking the meager remains from the bones of a long-dead deer when something caught its eye. Looking to the sky it saw that the solemn march of the clouds had accelerated markedly without a wind reaching the ground. More clouds gathered at unnatural speed and instead of hurrying over the sky in orderly lines danced around a center. Shadows raced all over the land, interspersed by lightning. Gusts of wind shook the trees and ruffled the crow's feathers, shaking it from its reverie. The black bird cawed in disgust and sook shelter in a nearby copse of trees.
A hundred meters from it three heavy slabs of concrete rumbled deeply as they moved on rails, revealing the dark opening of silos below. Steel hatches lifted up, emitting a thin mist of condensation. For a long moment nothing happened until the ground shook with the violence of strong rocket motors starting up. Columns of smoke and flame rose from secondary hatches, illuminating the clouds with baleful light from below. Slowly, but ever accelerating three slender cylinders rose from their silos clawing for the heavens.
They had barely pierced the roiling clouds above when all three disappeared from the German radar or any other mundane sensor.
The Warp
The barrier before Khorne looked like an endless expanse of lava and white hot metal. It was none of these things, but being conceived by the mind of the God of Fire he had willed it to be so.
The War God's axe was huge, imbued by the souls of countless warriors who had died in Khorne's name and wielded by an arm stronger than nearly any other. It crashed into the barrier with primal fury, vaporizing molten stone and leaving a white-hot scar below. There was more of the same below, as there had been during the last thousand strikes an ever-more frustrated god had inflicted on the barrier which kept him from the object of his hate. Hate, frustration, and a nearly forgotten emotion, fear, contorted Khorne's visage into something that would have stilled the hearts of mortals if they had seen it.
The God of Fire was not the mightiest god, but one of the oldest, envious, and most solitary ones. He had erected the barrier around his domain of the Empyrean a long time ago and reinforced it ever since. It was a part of his very being and would resist assaults like Khorne's for a very long time, too long in fact. The God of War might break through eventually, but by then his chosen would no longer engage in the only activity worth his attention. Ashes do not fight.
All the hate and frustration, all the exertion and fear made Khorne miss the subtle changes around him for a moment. When the warm light that somehow managed to be noticeable despite the conflagration before him reached his mind he turned with a speed that belied his huge shape. His ax was between him and whatever faced him for a moment, then he lowered it in confusion.
The very last being he would have expected here was before him, Shallya, the Goddess of Mercy.
"Why don't you take a break, God of Rage, it will do you good. And who knows, you might need your strength later…"
Before Khorne could roar a challenge or decapitate the dove before him she granted him a vision of such clarity and beauty that he complied without an answer. He removed himself quickly and put quite a bit of distance between himself and the place he had seen in that vision. So did Shallya, but not before opening a gate to the mundane world. The God of War was rather short of patience, but even he had no time to work his hate up again before the first missile arrived in the Warp and detonated against the barrier.
An explosion measured in megatons was just the fuse for an apocalyptical eruption of raw magic. The bombs mantle was a single synthesized Warpstone crystal, Project Paperclip's finest achievement so far. When ignited by such violence inside the Empyrean all three tons of it were directly converted into energy. Even Khorne stared at the cataclysm before him in disbelief. The magical onslaught carved a hollow into Hashut's barrier unlike anything the War God had achieved so far, but failed to breach it. That was when the second missile arrived, right on time.
The Warp, inside Hashut's domain
The God of Fire was about to start his latest series of changes to the Warhammer World that would finally succumb to his will. He had been quite surprised and frustrated when his will had been thwarted by an army of ants, by beings so small, mortal, and insignificant that they should be beneath its notice. And yet they had managed to thwart the god at every turn so far.
If they wanted to play that game, if they wanted to resist Hashut's own plans for them he would oblige them. He would push in one direction, they would push in the other. And like with a rocking horse these actions would amplify each other, upsetting the balance of pressure, heat, and convection currents till the proverbial horse would fall over. When those who thought themselves his worthy opponents and he were through with this fight, the surface of their world would regain its former glory. It would be a wonderful, glowing ball of lava, free of pesky organic life. Maybe the God of Fire could rest then.
Oh how he longed for such rest, as he had ever since he had started to take his righteous revenge on the DawiZharr those who styled themselves his equal had assaulted his chosen part of the Empyrean. Let them try, they would not succeed in time, but keeping the barrier up was so exhausting. When his will be done on the Warhammer World they would wither and wane without their adherents, then he could rest, not before.
Hashut was a god, he could do so as he could do all he willed.
The explosion was cataclysmic, something he had never endured before. Something assaulted his own barrier unlike anything he had felt before. Hashut felt something he could not place for a moment before an unhappy realization filled his mind. What he felt was pain, and the god roared with the indignity inflicted upon him.
He was still building up his rage when the second explosion ripped through the barrier and burned through its connection to him.
Hashut was still trying to cope with that when the third explosion took him out. Even his godly mind could not withstand the injury that breaking the barrier that had been a part of him had caused. He regained his faculties when something shook the ground he rested on. The shaking continued unabated, adding to his pains and frustration. Before he could make out its source it was accompanied by a roar that froze Hashut's soul with fear. Something was coming his way, something that wanted to end him and that would not take no as an answer. The God of Fire regained his sight just in time to see the ax that swung his way before his view blackened forever.
His skull would burn forever, lighting Khorne's throne room for all time. It was a symbol of the War God's declaration. Nobody would attempt to destroy Khorne's chosen arena without paying the price.
Reichstag, Berlin
The coffee on Andrea Hermann's table steamed silently while it slowly cooled. Its owner did not pay any attention to it, she was deep in thought.
She had never really aspired to be a Member of Parliament, neither her training nor her inclination were really suitable for that role. She had seen herself staying in the Bundestag for an election period as a backbencher and be done with it. She would not have been above using her influence to assure herself a smooth transition into some academic post.
A tour on Polarstern or Alkor would have been nice, followed by climbing the academic ladder enough to secure a chair at one of Germany's universities. That had been the scope of her hopes and aspirations, no more.
She had probably wrecked any chances of that happening with her crusade to rescue the former slaves at Neustadt. Now she was a household name, known not for her academic achievements, but for rousing the German public to the point where the Reikbund's premier units went to battle for her cause.
What professor would like to have her in his team and mentor her way towards becoming one herself? Who would look at her when she had achieved a well-appointed chair and not think that was because of her political connections? Who would listen to her when she lobbied for third-party funds and not expect her to dole out favors with the government?
There was an alternate path before her, one she was not too sure whether she wanted to enter it. The SPD leadership had talked to her, over dinner no less. They had made it clear in not so many words that her unauthorized stunt in the Bundestag was forgiven. Nobody said that anything else would make the Social Democrats look like vicious idiots, which was acknowledged by all without needing to mention it.
They tried to hear her out about her own aspirations and laid out several offers.
Several had been outside of the Bundestag, some would lead to academic careers or sinecures in the party's think tank, the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung.
Others had been in the party itself, and certainly not as a back bencher. There would be elections sooner rather than later and the SPD was pretty sure that they would regain the government. And if that happened there were several committees she might head. Or if she was really going to stick the oar in a post in cabinet. Did she want…that?
Her coffee had long past moved below drinkable temperature when Beate, her assistant barged into her office.
"There is something transmitted live on Youtube from Naggaroth Andrea, you might want to see that."
Hermanns looked startled. "Something wrong with Neustadt?"
"Nope, this is from Naggrond, the first public speech by this new Imperatrix Bane. Interested?"
This would indeed influence her choice, so yes, she very much was. The two women went before the office's TV with a fresh coffee when it displayed a simple obsidian throne before an equally black throne. The only ornament on the wall was a flag with a Wild Geese on it.
Bane was dressed simply, in what Hermann's took for a dress uniform with no rank insignia and a single tab on her chest. She was flanked by a fit-looking 50-ish human man on her right and a Druchii on her left whom anybody with eyes could see was very, very dangerous.
"Whoever you are, wherever you might be, we are here today to declare our vision for the future of the Druchii, the ones who once called themselves the true elves.
A week ago the allied troops of the Wild Geese and the Cathayan Expedionary Corps ended Malekith's reign. Five millennia of terror, torture and murder have come to an end, never to emerge again.
The allied troops have seen fit to call me their Imperatrix, and the surviving Druchii houses have given their consent to my rule.
My first priorities will be to bring my people through this winter and to repatriate as many slaves as possible. We do not ask for alms, or payment for anybody we will bring home, the Druchii will pay our way out of the misery we find ourselves in.
Any former slave who is born in Naggaroth or who cannot be brought to the country of his birth for whatever reason will be transported to Neustadt as per an agreement we reached yesterday.
And then we will need to find our way again. We certainly can no longer continue as we did all those many years. It was a murderous way, it was an unjust way, and a way that would have doomed us all in this new world the Germans shape. The mercenaries of the Wild Geese Company are mostly Druchii, we had to learn to live very differently than any elf before during the last decade. It is a better way, one in tune with the new times and we will make it the basis of how to mold the new Naggaroth.
We are not the only elves who live their lives according to rules and traditions many thousands of years old. No matter whether Druchii, Asur or Asrai we thought our way the only way, every move and every word prescribed by written and unwritten laws older than dirt.
They might be good laws and traditions or they might not be. I know two things for a fact: That the laws and traditions that governed the Druichii were wrong and self-destructive, they deserved to have been smashed by force of arms and left ruin in their wake. And I know that all elven laws and traditions need to be examined in the light of the new knowledge, the new ways and means we find before us. We Druchii must find new ways for Naggaroth, we simply have no choice. But what of you, the young elves of Ulthuan and Athel Loren? Are you sure your old, old leaders will indeed look to see which of their cherished traditions need to go and which old privilege needs to be scrapped? Or do you think that they will try to do as little as possible, to change nothing they do not absolutely have to? Do you really think they should decide whom you can love and marry, how you dress, how you pray and what your very place in life should be? Or do you want to make a name for yourself a glorious future that begins now and not in a thousand years?
Then come to Naggaroth and help us shape the elven society of the future, not of the past. Go west young Asrai and Asur, go west and shape your destiny with us."
Andrea Hermann shook her head.
"Fuck me sideways, I did not see that coming."
Her assistant stifled a laugh.
"Not leaning that way Andrea, and anybody outside Naggaroth who claims he foresaw that is a liar or a Celestial Mage."
RSS Morgenstern, on approach to orbit around Star Gate, L3 point
Nathan Alpers alternated between looking at the screens before him and the viewport above them. The Star Gate was a simple ring rotating so fast that it seemed totally featureless and smooth. Still, it's very mass and speed deformed the space around it. It smeared the stars into bent, lines of light and filled its interior with images of…things.
It massed more than the Warhammer World and the energy needed to accelerate it to its insane rotational speed dwarfed all human accomplishments. It was a humbling sight and reinforced the need to shut the access to this solar system down beyond all doubt. Civilizations who were able to build such marvels would hardly take notice of little Germany and would destroy whatever made it special in short order, one way or another. He might have felt sorry for that, a part of him wanted to go through that Gate and see what was on the other side. Now he felt like a bug who wondered what might be on the other side of that highway.
In a few moments Erik Bär would turn Morgenstern's stern around for a final circularization burn, then they would be in orbit around the Star Gate and Hypatia could perform her part of the mission, no matter what misgivings she might have about that.
Like the rest of the crew he was in a spacesuit, even when the visors were open and the gloves stored nearby. Nathan pulled on the straps that fixed him on his acceleration couch and found them as taut as ten minutes ago when he checked the last time. Nobody believed that something would go wrong, but everybody was a making sure. This was not the mission where failure was an option.
Calling up his check list for the burn on his screen he checked the time twice before keying the intercom.
"Erik, perform burn as per plan."
"Nathan, solid copy on the burn. Igniting RCS in three, two, one…."
An overwhelming silence rose everybody's heartbeat. Erik Bär's voice betrayed his frustrations when he ran through the procedure again.
"Nathan, this is Erik. RCS not responsive, repeat RCS not responsive. Computer operating nominally, no indications of malfunctioning hardware, still commands are not executed."
"Bashurr, this is Nathan. Anything you can see?"
Morgenstern's engineer was not in the command center of the spaceship, but close to his beloved Rune Generators. His screens would show the spaceships drive system in much greater detail than Nathan's.
"Bashurr here. No indication of faults as well. I am close to one of the RCS sets, I should have heard the valves opening, nothing. The gyros are there, but will not accept inputs as well. As if Erik's or my commands are not executed by the computer at all. And the bloody servers insist that all is fine, both the master and both stand-by systems. I can do a reboot of the servers, but that will take 15 minutes minimum. Will that be enough time to make the burn?"
"Erik, this is Nathan. How about delaying the burn?"
"Nathan, this is Erik. No sweat, we planned for a flyby in case something happens. Worst case we need to burn some propellant and gain orbit on the other side of the flyby, no sweat."
"Bashurr, this is Nathan, perform a reboot and reset one server from secure storage in five. Rest of us, secure ship for …"
The RCS thrusters were small, their job was just to reorient the ship as needed, not to change the ship's velocity. Still they silenced everybody on board when they ignited in brief bursts, pushing Morgenstern around till its bow aligned with the Star Gate.
"Bashurr, this is Nathan, what the bleeding fuck did you do?"
"Nothing Nathan, I was just about to restart Server Two when the RCS fired."
Whatever else the dwarf wanted to say was swallowed by the spaceship's main engines. Copious amounts of water were pushed into four tungsten blocks which were white hot. Steam emerged on the other side, so hot that it decomposed into its atoms. Morgenstern rarely used these engines, they produced enough thrust to accelerate the ship by better than 0.75 G, but used propellant like no tomorrow. And now they pushed the spaceship into a course that would bring them right through the Star Gate before them.
The headphones in each crewmember's helmets managed to carry Hypatia's voice just too well, they could all hear the AI above the engine's rumble.
"Just too bad that you did not want to destroy the Star Gate Oberstleutnant Nathan Alpers. Did you really believe I would allow high-tech barbarians like you to) fall on civilized society in a few hundred years, when you believe you are ready to face them? Who knows what damage you might cause before somebody brings you down. So let this ship live up to its real name, Lightbringer, and bring a warning about your people to the civilized galaxy. And maybe, just maybe I can communicate with other AIs again."
Nathan Alpers froze for a second. For all of the things he had expected to happen, this was not it. He knew so very well that the AI was not allowed to carry her plan through, it would put an end to all things he held dear. After a second he managed to order his thoughts again and undid the straps that held him. Morgenstern's thrust meant that the rear bulkhead was now up against the acceleration produced by the drives, and so he had to pull himself from seat to console to handhold with great effort.
He still managed to bring himself before the cover of Hypathia's compartment. He twisted the lock and jerked the hatch open, facing the simple-looking box before him. It was a good thing that his hands were without gloves, as unscrewing the fiber-optic connections to the AI would have been quite difficult otherwise. He had disconnected the final one when all screens changed their picture to Hypatia's avatar and all loudspeakers carried her voice.
"What did you expect to happen now Oberstleutnant Nathan Alpers. Did you think I would start to sing "Mary had a little lamb" and switch myself off? I have made this primitive pile of junk mine and mine alone when I realized that you would not let yourself be convinced. I am in every computer, every server and node, you cannot switch me off. We are going through this portal, and we will carry the warning about you to the wider galaxy, no matter what you biobodies want or decide."
Nathan started to think how to destroy his command in time when he realized how very close the Star Gate was to Morgenstern. And before he could formulate any plan, before he could issue any orders something took hold of him and everything around him and pulled. A second later no sign of Morgenstern or her crew could be found in the Warhammer system.
RSS Morgenstern, Deep Space in the Center 2/b System
The room might be inside an old Plattenbau, yet it was as cozy as an Imperial student and her German lover could make it. Candles gave a merciful light to bodies that did not need it.
Ermine was as beautiful as ever in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Nathan saw that she watched him intently and with a smile.
"What is on your mind, love?"
"I do not remember that you did so much "jogging" when you were still in our Barony Nathan, anything up?"
"Ah, a dream of mine"
"A dream you can share?"
"Only in parts love. I have heard that there will be a competition for a post I crave in a few weeks and I want to be in best shape then."
"Oh, are they offering you an armed plane this time?"
"Actually no. In a few weeks they will look for candidates who want to become astronauts"
"Uh, what do astronauts do?"
"They fly to the stars"
It was the headache that convinced the astronaut that he was no longer in the School of the Reik dormitory, sharing a bed with Ermine of Wolfenfels. The rust-like taste of blood in his mouth hammered the message home. He needed to rub his eyes before they opened themselves. He got a rather blurry picture of his surroundings first, just enough to make sure that he was still on Morgenstern's bridge. The red lights of the emergency lanterns faded when the normal illumination switched itself on.
The monitors displayed white line after line on black. He could not read them yet, but recognized them well enough to know the computer network was booting up.
His vision cleared up sufficiently to look for the other members of his bridge crew.
Svea Rausch massaged her neck and turned her head experimentally, she seemed to have it in hand. Erik Bär was not up yet, but his snoring indicated that his breathing was unimpeded. Frank Herbert rubbed his eyes in an unconscious imitation of Nathan a minute ago.
He fumbled with the intercom to contact Bashuur and Manfred Bettin when the monitors before him became fully operational. One showed a wire diagram of his command, with a few yellow indicators. He did not really see them, as his gaze was taken by the monitor besides him. It displayed the picture provided by the 1.5-meter telescope on Morgenstern's dorsal facing.
It showed a disk with many protrusions in the middle, surrounded by a formation of rings of some kind. His mind was still slowed by the concussion he had suffered, he needed a second to adjust his mind to the scale of what he saw. When he finally managed to connect the dots, his heart seemed to stop for a second. The first words a human uttered in this new star system were a disbelieving oath.
"My God, it is full of Gates."
DLR, Peenemünde Nord
Olaf Merz had always been a busy man, or so he thought. The last few days had shown him a new level of busy, one he could have easily done without.
It had all started with Morgenstern going incommunicado just when they should have made the final burn easing them into their orbit around the Star Gate. Instead of performing that maneuver, Germany's only space warship had accelerated towards the Gate and vanished without a trace.
As might be expected, Merz's political masters had gone ballistic, asking for answers and solutions when none were to be had. There were several theories about what happened there, ranging from a fatal malfunction, via a desire of the crew to be the first in another star system to outright treason. Given the dearth of data none of them could claim precedence. It was completely unknown whether the crew was still alive, or what they had encountered on the other side if they had made it. The most important question was whether somebody on the other side of the Gate had noticed Morgenstern and what those hypothetical somebodies would do about it.
Olaf Wörner, Merz's long-time superior, was going to be sacrificed on the altar of political expediency. Whether he would follow him would depend on what options he could present to the government. And that had led him to the point where he had dusted off the proposal for a Warpstone-bomb driven spacecraft. Those would allow them to launch and move ridiculous amounts of mass in a hurry. That might allow the Reiksbund to fortify the Star Gate to the point where they could control the access. Maybe….
Olaf Merz grabbed his head in frustration when he realized how desperate he and the country he served must be to seriously consider such an outlandish concept. A spaceship the mass of Seeadler rising on a series of green-tinged explosions. It might look awesome until something went wrong but he doubted anything good could come from it. The question was whether it would prevent even worse outcomes. The fact that he estimated that his government would probably green-light such a proposal just said how fucked-up the situation really was.
Now, provided that this thing would not blow up with all of Tilea, what would be the best option to use it? The Star Gate had acquired a few Trojan objects of its own, there was at least one sizable nickel-iron asteroid among them. If that could be melted with a bit of ice inside, that could be the beginnings of a nice fortress that would be hard to destroy….
RSS Morgenstern, Deep Space in the Center 2/b System
The table was used for taking meals, holding tablets for entertainment and education purposes and anything else that needed a room that held all the crew. All crewmembers fitted with ease, and they were alive, which was a marvel in Nathan Alpers' mind. It was probably the only plus on his mental ledger and by the looks on the faces of his crewmembers they agreed. They were so far from any help that it was not even funny, and they had been betrayed by the AI that was crucial to the mission. By the look of things that betrayal had indeed unsettled the minds of everybody. As it should, given that it had probably announced Germany's position to a far more developed galactic civilization. It was hard to feel anything, but gloom and having failed everybody important to them.
Nathan rapped the table once, which got his crew to look at him.
"Ok folks, I know this is as bad as it could be. Still, we are alive, and a great many people are counting on us. So, let's take stock shall we? Bashuur, how is the ship?"
The dwarf's voice was even deeper and slower than usual.
"The one good piece of news about this is that the servers and computers went down hard when we transited that Gate. I halted the server reboot when I woke up a bit earlier than you all and booted from secure storage. Since Nathan managed to disconnect this bloody AI before we went through that gate we have retaken control of the spaceship. I dropped a lead blanket from Irina's stocks on it so that it cannot connect itself to WLAN. And I am all for spacing this piece of treacherous junk."
If the computers and sensors are not telling me lies, then we have suffered no major damage. I can see no leaks either, we are holding pressure just fine. All engines are nominal, we have 75% argon and 90% of water propellant.
I cannot vouch for the frame though. I can neither see cracks nor do the tension meters show anything, but the frame is a mixture of graphene-reinforced plastics and additive manufactured metals. It is amazingly strong for its mass, but it is mostly designed for forces applied through a couple of defined axes. I have no idea how we were tossed around when we went through the gates and neither have the computers. Until I have a better look at the frame I would not accelerate too much. Nathan winced at that.
"Good job on the servers Bashuur, that gives us a bit of leeway. Svea?"
Morgenstern's weapons system operator looked at the pad before her before answering.
"All sensors and all weapons look good in the self-tests. Given that Hypatia infiltrated the computers I have started a reboot from ROM as well. It will take a bit more time, but in about 30 minutes the full suite of sensors and fire control will be available again. For all the good that will do us. Somebody built a freaking space station 32 kilometers across in the middle of fucking nowhere. We have the full complement of missiles and autocannon rounds, the laser should work, but we might as well be armed with slingshots and blowguns."
Nathan tried to remain impassive through an outbreak that mirrored his fears all too well.
"Then there had better be no fighting, I would prefer a peaceful contact anyways. So, do we have any idea who is out there Frank?"
Frank Herbert, Morgenstern's sensor operator, shook his head.
"My computers have rebooted already, so I could have a first look, but either I do not know what to look for or there is indeed nobody here. There is a decided lack of electromagnetic radiation that I could classify as communications or active sensors. The infrared does not show any reaction drives or power sources that I would recognize. Now, that may be because I am looking for the wrong things and they communicate with gravity waves and have inertia-less drives. But that does not explain the most interesting fact: The space station is cold, and by cold I mean within ten degrees above absolute zero. There are also signs of what looks like high-speed, high-mass impacts on its surface. If the builders of this station are not very, very different from us, then this station is uninhabited."
That perked Nathan up a bit.
"Interesting. Erik, do you have any idea where we might be?"
"Not precisely, but Frank allowed me to poach his telescope long enough to get a general idea. There are two hypergiants that are visible both from here and the Warhammer World, so I measured the azimuth. I need a lot more time to refine this, but we are some 50 to 60 light years from home. No way in hell are we going to go back, unless we use the Star Gate again. And that will be a bit difficult without Hypatia, whom I trust as far as I can throw her."
"We'll see about that. Irina?"
Morgernstern's ice mage and medic's face was impassive, her voice resigned.
"We have all been knocked out for about 15 minutes, with Bashuur being up after less than ten. Seems that a hard Dawi head is good for something after all. I had a quick look at Manfred, he suffered no concussion, so I believe none of us did. I don't think any of us aspirated during that time, at least none of us exhibited any symptoms of that. I have no idea what put us under, but travelling 50+ light years in one go might have something to do with that. Good news is that the ice cores are still working as they should, I was not too sure about that given how far from home we are.
The hydroponic tanks and the liquid recyclers still work well, so water and air are no problem for the foreseeable future. Food will last us for a year at least, but I would be loath to try that."
Nathan shrugged on hearing that.
"I'm pretty sure we are all agreed on that. So, Morgenstern is ship-shape, and so are we. There are no unfriendly natives we can see, but we are really way too far from home. We should not try the Star Gate on our own except as a measure of last resort, I doubt we would survive. We desperately need more info to come up with a plan, and that means talking to Hypatia. Bashuur, can you rig a fiber-optic connection from her to a pad air-gapped from the network?"
"You think this traitor will give any reliable information?"
"I do not believe that she wants to be spaced with no means of contacting any advanced parties she needs to warn about the techno-barbarians coming their way. We should be able to work with that. Frank, you got first watch, hit the red button if anybody so much as lights an RCS. Rest of us, we get a bit of rest before we talk to that treacherous toaster."
The Warp
It was a congregation as the Empyrean had not seen for a very long time, if ever. The part of the Warp that held it roiled under the presence of beings who were the foci of so much power. Many of those present were the anathema of several others and lightning fronts larger than worlds lit the incorporeal landscape that was the Empyrean. Some things that looked like colorful cloud formations and were most certainly not were moved about by things that acted like storm fronts on them. All of it was centered on something that looked like an old arena, with tiers of granite rising from the bloody sands in the middle.
The beings that occupied those ranks were the result of dreams, ideals, prayers, and archetypes who usually stayed in the parts of the Warp they had declared theirs and met only very rarely. None of the assembled had any memory of a meeting of practically all major gods, and yet here it was. Even more remarkable than the gods of Chaos and Order meeting at what went for the same time and space in the warp, was the reason for getting together. It was not the transgression by one of them, their age-old conflict or anything like that. It was because of a group of mortals none of them could even name 15 years ago.
The sands in the middle were taken by something that looked like a poisonous toad the size of a skyscraper. It was covered with leprous skin, oozing pus and less savory fluids with every wheezing breath. Its voice was a rumbling mass, formed by diseased vocal cords working through airways nearly blocked by viscous fluids. Many eyes watched the ranks from many parts of Nurgle's anatomy and wept bloody tears while they did so.
"In less than a score of years these Germans have killed two of our number, murdered Gods that were so far above them as they are above ants. The Horned Rat was a fluke, making himself vulnerable by descending into the mundane World. It even provided half the weapon that slew it by leaving a part of himself in the Screaming Bell. That was a feat that should have woken us all, but did not.
Hashut's murder, now that was something different. Hashut was not in the mortal plane, did not expose his throat to the blade. The God of Fire was in its own realm, a place so safe that even those of us who wanted to end him could not reach him. The Germans launched weapons of their own making that opened the breech that allowed Khorne to take his skull. But do any of those who are here really doubt the oh-so-mortal Germans could not have used a fourth weapon and done the deed themselves?
And did they use a relic like the screaming Bell, an item so old and powerful that there could be only one of them, stored for a time of need and used only in desperation? No, they used a weapon they make on a production line, they can produce as many as they want.
In a score of years, a time so short that most of us do not even really realize its passing, they made such advances that they could slay a god with a bit of help. And who is to say that they do not learn more about the Empyrean now that they know that it exists and can be accessed? Can any of us say with certainty that they will not search for more lore? That they will not build some arcane apparatus which will allow their spaceships to enter the Warp itself and hunt us with weapons even more dangerous than the one they used now?
Do we want to watch them learn of things no mortal should, wait in trepidation whether they leave us alone? Or do we do the right thing and do something about them as long as we can?"
The voice came from a goddess who sounded weary and more than strong enough to endure at the same time.
"What are you suggesting then, Lord of Flies? Do you want to unleash your plagues upon the Germans? You have tried that many times and you have failed again and again. Even if you were to find something so insidious and deadly that you could kill them all, do you think that destruction would halt at Germany's borders? Or that I would allow it?"
The image Shallya projected to the Warp was far less frightening than Nurgle's and still all conversation around the arena stilled.
Nurgle's many mouths gnashed in disgust, with several tongues making vaguely obscene gestures.
"So, what would you do about it, Goddess of Mercy? Cry fat tears about it, cuddle those doctors who cannot stop my gifts when I open my gardens for all to see?"
The answer was as cold as any winter storm.
"I have seen what the Germans brew up in their labs, especially with the lore they inherited from the Old Ones. If I were you I would not fear their weapons, I would fear their antibiotics and the things they grow which feast upon your gifts. You don't look so well now, how will you feel when they unleash their creations on any gift that shows your putrid sigil?"
"My gardens contain such beautiful gifts that this world has never seen. I will rot their bones, I will remake their flesh in my image I will.."
"Your gardens will burn before you do any such thing."
Misshapen arms rose as if in triumph, viscous droplets the size of beer kegs left Nurgle's mouth when his screeching drowned out everything else.
"See, see this is the new Goddess of Mercy, who became mad with her newfound powers of destruction and the murder of her peer. She and the Germans think they can kill any of us who displeases them. Tired of honest combat, send a missile or two to Khorne. Unhappy with having your subjects thinking for themselves and looking for the knowledge you think too dangerous for them, burn Tzeentch. And maybe she does not like war in general, so watch out Ulric, she may have it in for you…"
"I did nothing that many of you did not try themselves, I was successful where you were not. Had Hashut succeeded in his mad quest to drown the world in fire we would have all perished sooner or later, and all here know that. And I would not have been able to do this without a lot of information by your esteemed colleague Tzeentch. And it is not as if Khorne could not have chained Hashut or tried to threaten him. He killed Hashut in as cold a blood as he is capable of.
May I also remind you that this thing happened twice now because two of us decided to interfere with the real in a big and very direct way? Something we should all be loath to do. We help our adherents, we motivate, and inspire them and here and there we lend a helping hand. Entering the mundane world or simply ending it: None of us got up to such madness before. I for one are not surprised if an extraordinary action causes an equally extraordinary response."
Nurgle roared even louder than before.
"Here, you have all heard it. Shallya did it and will probably do it again. And as any two-bit mortal murderer could tell you: it becomes easier after the first time. So, can the rest of us also please give an extraordinary answer to an extraordinary murderous goddess of mercy and her minions?"
Before Shallya could answer the boom of a hammer impacting on an unyielding floor stopped both opponents.
The voice that followed was a deep rumble used to command.
"Anybody who attacks the Germans or Shallya faces me."
The orange glow on Sigmar's hammer made no secret on what he planned to do with any taker.
"And us"
Shorter and broader than the former warrior several dwarven gods stepped forward. The axe wielded by Khorne burned brighter when he lifted it in a silent challenge.
Nurgle looked at the ranks that formed on both sides with glee.
"So, this is it? Is this the day when we finally settle our scores and see who will dominate this world for all times? Oh yes, I am all for…"
Nurgle's outstretched hand stopped obeying his command. Its color switched from its unhealthy green to a waxen gray, and bits started to crumble from it to the ground as if they were so much ash.
A deep chill ran through the assembly and a voice that resembled skeletal hands raking dried leaves hushed the clamor of the meeting.
"None of you will engage in this senseless orgy of mutual destruction, nor will you play games on the mortal plane. Both would make the world below unsuitable for life, and end the cycle of life and death. It is not yet time for that. Now let it be known that any who wants to avoid my embrace will abide by the rules that we all agreed on so long ago. We do not manifest on the mortal plane, and we do not try to reform it in whatever image you wish yourself. Use your mortal agents as you like, but keep your hands off that world if you value them.
And I would really appreciate if those of you with good connections to the Germans would tell them that killing gods without extreme provocation will earn them Morr's ire."
There were few discussions, claims or boasts made after that. Morr was not an outspoken god, but when the chips were down he was the End of all Things.