Over the next month, all the details of the entry of Hope to the Uhnashret Dynasty were fully hammered out. It was decided that human ranks would hold some weight… all human nobles would outrank commoners, while the Barons were equal to Overlords, and the King would outrank all but Rahkaak. This wasn't just to deal with the problem of Kototep. Rahkaak was thinking of the future and the hopes that the necrons in the one remaining coreworld could be awoken. If that was achieved, there were several Overlords that she did not want ordering around the King, and for more nefarious reasons than mere stupidity. As for the production of the planet, at least half of it would go to the glory of the Uhnashret Dynasty. That would include continuing military efforts. While they would be able to relax slightly when the drukhari were gone, the strength of the dynasty needed to be rebuilt. In terms of merging the two cultures, some things would be done – they would start incorporating necron architecture – but in general, it was seen as pointless given the number of necrons left. If the coreword was successfully awoken, that might change.
A month later, the general announcement was made.
Manric stood with Reinhart on the upraised dais as the coronation was conducted by the Archbishop of Hope. It was a very ancient ceremony, both civil and religious, and Manric allowed himself to drift off, mentally. He couldn't understand a word of the ancient liturgy, anyway.
He came back to himself when he caught a pointed elbow in his side. Hiding a wince, Manric devoted his attention to Reinhart as the Archbiship anointed his temples with incense, before placing the crown upon his head. That crown was also an artefact, and a very potent one. It had a personal protection field that could defeat lasgun fire and even deflect bolter rounds. The years had not degraded it, but things made on Terra had been built to last.
"People of Hope," Reinhart stepped forward, his red cape, trimmed with ermine, swirling behind him. He cut a very kingly figure as he gazed out over the crowd. The ceremony was conducted in front of the Royal manor, to allow the people to see their new King. "Since the founding of this colony, we have stood in this square many times and we will stand in it many more. But today, things are different. Today, we mark a new beginning." Reinhart paused dramatically to gaze out over the people. Manric wasn't good at such things, and could only admire the performance. "What I am going to say might come as a shock to you."
"We have made contact with a new alien race." There was a buzz from the crowd and Reinhart gave it a moment for them to lapse back into silence. "For the entire time Hope has existed, they have slept beneath our feet. And during their sleep, the Drukhari found them. Some have survived, and they wish for revenge." The crowd was absolutely hanging on his words now, good. "They are named the Necrons and today, we swear fealty to them in exchange for their aide. As King of this land, I swear my personal loyalty to Phaeron Rahkaak." She appeared then on the dais, in a warping that seemed magical to the crowd but was actually a fairly simple light bending device. Not too useful in combat, alas. Her lychguard merged seamlessly with Reinhart's human guard, exactly as they had been drilled. Manric was proud of everyone involved, the united front presented was perfect. "Hope is now a Serf world in service to the Uhnashret Dynasty. And in return…" There was a great thing on the edge of the plaza, covered in a great shroud. Most people had likely assumed it was a statue to the new King. That was rather egotistical, but not unknown.
Now the covering fell away, and everyone knew they were wrong as the Knight armor moved. It stood to its full height, proudly displaying its unpainted glory. Deliberately unpainted, to show the slightly purple sheen of the precious adamantium that had gone into the construction. There were gasps and whispers, as the factory workers and metallurgists in the crowd urgently told their neighbors what that meant. It was most obvious in the thin adamantium plates that guarded the joints. Finally, a Knight armor that cannot be crippled with a simple Drukhari sword!
Then the clapping and cheering started. Once started it grew, into a thunderous surf of sound, and it became a chant. Hope! Hope! Hope! The name of the planet, yes, but more importantly the name of what they'd just been given. Reinhart gave them a decent length of time before raising his arms for silence.
"To celebrate this alliance, we are declaring a week-long planetary holiday." That meant a full week off with regular pay for most workers, and special perks and pay for the ones necessary to keep the basic functions of the city running. There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by even wilder cheers. Manric smiled to himself. The restaurants and leisure facilities would be scrambling, but it was a good problem to have. "When your time of rest is done, we will expect the best from you as we prepare to finally put an end to the suffering we have endured!" That ended everything on a high note and they left the dais as the crowd continued to cheer, but those on the outer edges started to disperse, going to start their week long holiday. It wouldn't be too long before the entire square cleared out.
"That went extremely well. Your subjects are most obedient," Rahkaak said. They had decided she should not address the crowd herself… her alien voice and manner might frighten them, and there was no need. The Necrons would not be interacting with the commoners much, if at all.
"It wasn't spontaneous. I had agents in the crowd, ready to clap and cheer at the right moments. Humans are herd animals, just a few people can get the whole thing moving." Did he absolutely have to?! It was far more flattering if Rahkaak didn't know – "And stop looking at me like that, Manric. This is useful information for a ruler to have given how it can be used against you." That surely never happened. "And don't think it doesn't happen. You're completely ignorant of what goes on in the civilian population." Reinhart's tone was withering and Manric decided he'd had enough.
"Thank you, my liege, I appreciate the instruction," he replied, as tonelessly as possible. And that was extremely toneless, he was good at that. "I will immediately forget it as it is not part of my duties." Reinhart almost missed a step as he registered what had actually been said.
"That was… that was impressively honest. Thank you?" They both heard a soft, buzzing sound and Manric was alarmed for a moment before realizing that Rahkaak was laughing at them. But then that stopped, and she addressed them quite seriously.
"I will be departing for some time, to see if one of my coreworlds can be salvaged. Please continue in my absence," Rahkaak told then and they both bowed. This time she departed openly on her barge, to return to her underground domain. Manric wondered what would happen if she could save her subjects. Would it affect things with her human serfs?
Well, that wasn't really something to worry about. Manric put it out of mind, and resolved to enjoy the next week with his family. Although truthfully, spending that much time with them was more a duty than a pleasure. Manric winced internally at the thought, but also felt the bitter tang of truth to it.
He loved his children and honored his wife, but preferred them in much smaller doses.
Rahkaak gazed at the planet below her thoughtfully.
It was a particularly barren world, cold and dusty. From above, it looked very grey, with only thin dark lines to indicate the raging dust storms that encircled it. Water existed, a great brackish inland sea, but it was also grey. It should not be like this. Overlord Atakusakh had chosen, for his own reasons, not to scour the world of organic life. Sixty million years was a long time, but life was persistent. The world should not be so completely barren.
Yet even worse than the planet was the sun. It should have been a healthy red dwarf, warming this small planet with meager but wholesome light. Instead it was a pallid ember and that was not right. Such a star should burn through celestial matter at an incredibly slow rate. That immediately put the Star Gods to mind, but a thorough scan of the star had detected nothing. If a C'Tan had been here during their sleep, it had come and gone, but Rahkaak thought it very unlikely.
What of the warp? The humans had come here on the back of a vicious warp storm. Rahkaak hated to think of sorcery but her other coreworld and star were gone, so it had to be considered. Had the warp affected time here, and aged the system to infinity? If that were the case, though, surely the guards on the Tomb world would not be functioning at all? Nothing was responding from orbit.
"We must go to the surface. Come," she ordered her loyal Lychguard before summoning a barge. They all boarded it and the vehicle silently and efficiently carried them to the launching bay. They would take a smaller vessel to the surface of the world. A force of Immortals were already waiting for them in the craft, ready for the launch.
Feeling as secure as it was possible to be landing on an unknown world, Rahkaak locked her joints in the necron version of taking a seat and waited patiently for them to land. The craft made a textbook perfect landing, setting down beside the entrance to the tomb. As Rahkaak exited the craft, she felt a strange chill that seemed to stab at her joints and thicken her lubricant, making it a touch harder to move. Only the tiniest bit and a quick check of her body indicated no real problems, but she noted the effect. What could be causing that? It was not a physical chill. Pausing, Rahkaak looked around.
Someone had definitely been here. Alien architecture stood half broken, and Rahkaak found it curiously… revolting. Examining it carefully, she found it looked distorted, as if it was not made in accordance with the laws of reality. Further off there were rather sad attempts at human architecture, little broken huts. They made Rahkaak imagine a quiet, desperate struggle to live on this barren world, that had quickly lapsed into the silence of death.
But none of that mattered compared to trying to open the entrance to the Tomb. Rahkaak resolutely ignored the desolation, her Lychguard and Immortals comforting her as she entered the tunnel that led to the entrance.
When she reached it, it hummed softly with power, all of the defenses fully active. Rahkaak intoned the ancient evocations, gesturing the runes of opening that her rank gave her the power to use. To her disappointment but not surprise, there was no response. Well, there are more to try.
For an entire day, Rahkaak attempted to make the coreworld AI respond to any command. All she received was dead silence. It was frustrating for with the fields active the AI had to be active, but it simply would not respond. Finally giving up with glyphs of disgust and frustration, she reached out to the ship.
Send down the cutting teams. It would take almost a thousand years, to break into the tomb by simple force, but they would do it. Hopefully there was nothing ghastly inside like an entire complex of Flayers. Rahkaak shuddered at the thought but knew it was a real possibility, if the Necrons inside had awoken early and ended up trapped. Another very real possibility was that they would break in to find all the equipment had undergone some kind of quiet, catastrophic failure and no one would ever awaken. Yet whatever they would find, they couldn't just leave the tomb like this. Even if the possibility was slim that the Necrons within were well, they had to find out.
Now, we can only wait. The only other thing left to do was, perhaps, bring one of the human psychers to the planet and see how they reacted. Hope had very few of those touched by the power of the warp, but they did have a few and their reaction might be interesting. Not likely to be useful, but interesting. Well, that could wait.
Opening the tomb world was now a long-term goal. Rahkaak had more pressing concerns in the short term.