Ahmakeph would never have admitted it to anyone else in the Sautekh dynasty, particularly that idiot Zahndrekh, but spending time on the surface of Hope was… fun.
The first thing that made it amusing was the attitude of the humans. Ahmakeph wasn't sure what to expect from them. In the Imperium of Man they would have been wetting themselves with fear, by and large, and the few that weren't would be hostile. Here, they simply kept a wide distance from him and often bowed in respect, or did an odd gesture he'd never seen before, similar to a bow but a touch different.
The second thing that was interesting was the Festival. Manric had undersold it. The theme of it seemed to be lights more than flowers, and they had timed their visit for after sundown, so brilliant patterns of light were constantly dazzling his optics. Human entertainment came and went with stunning swiftness, street performers all competing to catch and hold the attention of the passerby's. Ahmakeph had never had much patience with such things so he found it all quite stimulating.
At one point in the festival they had paused to watch a group of humans using their bodies and fabric with lights to create an undulating snake. Ahmakeph felt a strange familiarity to it, and wondered if he had seen such a thing in the long forgotten Flesh Times. As it passed by and his attention wandered, though, he noticed a very small human close by. It was staring up at him, dark eyes wide in a darker face. What had he seen that one Psychomancer do, that one time…? Ah, yes. Ahmakeph bent over slightly, and spoke very seriously.
"Boo." The human's eyes went so wide, they were white around the edges and then it made a high pitched sound before running away. Then Ahmakeph heard a choked sound and glanced at Manric as he straightened. Was the human laughing?
"That was cruel," Manric said as he caught his breath and Ahmakeph bristled a bit. That was HARDLY – "Highly amusing, but cruel." Oh, well, hmph.
"Do you presume to judge me?" Ahmakeph had to ask, even if he was fairly sure the human wasn't serious. Manric shook his head with that lift of the corner of a lip that seemed to serve him for a smile. That was strange for humans, Ahmakeph knew, except perhaps for the Mechanicus priests. And they had the benefit of usually wearing a mask.
"It would be hypocritical in the extreme if I did. I did that to my own daughter once. Her mother was very upset with me, but I still think it was worth it." They started winding through the crowds again and Ahmakeph was curious. Why had his female child been afraid of him? "I had a lot of blood on me. Apparently, she thought I was a monster come to eat her." HAH! "Please don't judge me, I swear I'm not a horrible father."
"I wouldn't know." He couldn't even remember his own father, which indicated he'd died before Biotransference. Kind of a shame, actual family connections did still exist among the necrons and were sometimes quite strong. The crowds seemed to be a thinning a bit and they were entering a wilderness area? But it was well tended and paper lanterns in the shapes of hanging blossoms were hung on iron hooks, planted in the ground. "Where are we going?" This seemed to be away from the main festival.
"We're going to the clearing where the dancers will perform the Dance of the Flowers. It's the culmination of the festival, the main event, and really shouldn't be missed. If we arrive a bit early we should be able to claim one of the rocks. They're the absolute best place to view the display." Ah, that made sense. Ahmakeph would never in a million years show up early to a necron play, but he knew that for those who actually enjoyed it, arriving early did get a better seat. Some lunatics even arrived an entire year early, depending on the play. "The dance itself is very ancient, dating back to Terra and preserved by the great mind that guides us, our STC." Wait. What had he just said?
"STC?" Ahmakeph asked with studied casualness, hiding his sudden, intense interest. He knew what an STC was, but surely the human wasn't really referring to what he thought he was? Then, though, Manric confirmed it.
"Standard Template Construction. Ours is STC00678, to be precise… we were the six hundred and seventy eighth colony ship to leave Terra." Manric paused, then made a dismissive gesture. "Sorry. You probably don't care about such things… but this is a day to celebrate them. You might have noticed lights picking out that number." He hadn't actually, but Ahmakeph couldn't really read high Gothic at all, just speak it. Reading it was a truly useless skill, it only had applications when dealing with the Mechanicus.
"I have only heard of STC, never seen one. They are an AI?" Ahmakeph asked and Manric was more than willing to explain.
"Indeed, it is, and more powerful than a crownworld AI." Did he mean it was superior?! Arrogant – "Simokh was actually quite concerned about that. He said we came far too close to the line of cut off for AI processing before aberrant behavior becomes an issue. Still, he decided we fell on the right side of the line, if just barely." Oh. So he didn't mean it was a good thing. Well, alright then. "And STC has been our loyal helper and planner for five thousand years. I am very glad we didn't have to limit it, although combining the crownworld AI and STC was ruled out as being too dangerous." They had seriously been considering that? But Ahmakeph knew his suspicions were confirmed, now. And Manric said it all so blithely, without a care in the world!
As they stood on the rock and waited for the performance to start, Ahmakeph cogitated on what he had just learned. He had participated in many campaigns and in one notable one, Imotekh the Stormlord had used three pages of hard copy printout from the fabled "STC" to lure a Mechanicus fleet to absolute ruin. Three hundred ships had met their fate trying to retrieve three pieces of paper. And Manric was babbling about an entire STC, completely functional, as though it was nothing! …Actually, that raised another question…
"Would you say that STC's are rare?" Ahmakeph asked and Manric laughed at the thought.
"Oh no. As I said, we were six hundred and seventy eight." Oh, that was right, he had mentioned that. "I'm sure there were thousands more built after we left Terra, one for every ship. And they can last a very long time. Ours is currently at half its expected lifespan, before it requires extensive refits." That didn't make sense. The timeline was off.
Then music started and Ahmakeph's attention went to the stage. The dance started slowly, with a simple, gentle tune and one dancer coming out of the shadows. A female human wearing a silvery purple gown, it was fashioned to look like a flower. The lights illuminated her as she started to dance, slow but elegant.
"That is the adamantium rose, Terra," Manric murmured. Ahmakeph nodded, caught up in the performance as the music started to swell. As the speed and complexity of the music increased, so did the dance and parts of the gown started to light up. Cool tones of blue that harmonized with her gown, they were soon joined with jewelry of light. Ahmakeph had no idea how the humans had managed it, but the dancer became a living sculpture of movement and light.
Then, as the music became a full orchestra, the other dancers came onto the stage. Moving smoothly as a dream, six other women joined the first, each in their own flower gown. In all different colors, they danced around the woman who symbolized Terra and then spread across the stage, twirling in perfect synchrony. Ahmakeph easily understood the symbolism… these were the colonies, spreading humanity across the galaxy. So bright and hopeful yet so naïve, it is dazzling. This was a dance of a species that had not yet tasted hardship, that still looked to the stars earnestly hoping to find friends. A sudden, amusing thought came to him. Trazyn the Infinite would love this. He would probably try to catch the entire thing in a tesseract so he could replay the dance for all eternity. Just as well he isn't here. He'd quickly get banned from yet ANOTHER court.
The dance came to an end when the music came to a full crescendo and the women all froze in a dramatic pose. Then the lights dimmed and the clapping began, as all the women made that odd not-quite-a-bow gesture.
"What is that gesture? It has the same meaning as a bow?" Ahmakeph asked, genuinely curious.
"Ah, that is a curtsy. It's exactly the same as a bow, but meant for a woman wearing a dress." Manric rubbed a thumb along his jaw for a moment. "This might be a bit hard to explain but it's considered… uncouth, to show your undergarments. If a woman tries to bow, she is in danger of exactly that, so the curtsy avoids such a public calamity." What an odd little custom.
"I see… that was a beautiful dance." And he actually meant it, shocking really. "I have learned a great deal." Although what he'd actually learned was about the STC. What would he do with that knowledge? Ahmakeph already had a very good idea.
He owed the Uhnashret Dynasty a debt for saving him. It was fitting that he repay them with a warning of how much danger they were in.
Rahkaak had a bit of a headache, and it was named Ahmakeph of the Sautekh Dynasty.
She honestly wasn't sure what to do with him. Theoretically, the best option was to send him home. Her Dynasty was in the North-East portion of the galaxy, so far into the halo stars that they were almost in danger of dropping off the edge and into the great void. But that meant that as such things went, Mandragora was relatively close. (only relatively, it was still a long trip) The problem with that was that she did not want to spare a ship or crew, much less a noble to head the delegation to Imotekh the Stormlord. Who would she send? She knew for a fact that Imotekh did not like Kototep, they had met before. Imotekh considered Kototep an insufferable idiot, while Kototep considered him a jumped-up commoner. Rahkaak shuddered at the thought.
Would she send Itolyx then? That was a possible plan, and partly accounted for her decision to elevate him to Lord so quickly. However, even less than Kototep, Itolyx was not ready for court intrigues. True, Imotekh himself would probably appreciate the blunt Immortal-now-Lord, but his court was surely a snake pit. And sending Kototep and Itolyx together was absolutely out of the question. While they theoretically would have the skills together to manage, Rahkaak had no illusions about their ability to work together.
So would she go herself? Phaeron Rahkaak considered that option very carefully. The problem with it was that instead of sending a small, speedy cruiser and counting on speed and stealth to keep her envoys safe, her own presence would require a fleet. They had only one fleet, and it needed to keep Hope safe. Rahkaak had not forgotten that the drukhari had far more ships than the two they'd seized, and more warriors than the raiders and skeleton crew on the base. She could not allow a threat to her crownworld while she was gone.
Of course, there was always the option of forcing Ahmakeph to be patient while they repaired and built an entire new fleet. Rahkaak knew he might object to the very significant delay – she estimated at least ten years – but she did favor this option, at least a bit. Making friendly contact with Sautekh was very important. From what Rahkaak could determine, the other Dynasties between her and Sautekh had fallen on their own misfortunes. So they would need a trading partner, at the very least, and Sautekh was ideal. So it behooved her to go herself.
Then Ahmakeph requested a formal audience, with her entire court. Rahkaak hoped he wasn't intending to try to pull rank, to get himself home sooner, but granted the request. They needed to be extremely polite to a member of the far more powerful Sautekh dynasty, so she would not refuse him anything within reason.
It is a bit odd that he specifically requested Manric be present. Rahkaak wasn't sure what was behind that, although she'd noticed Manric was very good at making friends. He'd even cautiously approached Kototep, just a few days ago, and complimented the poetry inlaid on his body. That had made Kototep preen, because he'd written that poetry himself, back in the Times of Flesh. Rahkaak had considered asking the human King to attend as well, but decided against it. Reinhart was quite busy managing his rather unruly subjects.
"Thank you for this audience, Phaeron," Ahmakeph greeted her and Rahkaak dipped her head in acknowledgement. With her were Kototep, Itolyx and Manric while Simokh stood behind her, as her chief Cryptek. "We all know that I owe your dynasty a great debt." That was true, although Rahkaak had not intended to ask for any repayment. "I have decided to repay you with the bitter gift of knowledge. You have awoken to a galaxy that is afire with war, and the greatest threat to your Dynasty is now that one's kin." He pointed with his chin at Manric.
"What? What do you mean?" Kototep queried and Rahkaak was actually glad of it, so she didn't have to voice her own annoyance. But Ahmakeph was not loathe to explain.
"I will start with the lesser threats, then lead to the greater." Very well. "Between you and Sautekh lies the Tau empire. They are of little account, and you can likely even trade with them, but they are also expansionist and may someday try to claim you." Hmm, alright. "The orcs hold a few world in the fringe, but they are uncoordinated. If they attempt you, it will be to raid and loot. A minimal threat." Orcs, of course those vermin would still be infesting the galaxy. "The next greatest threat to you is Chaos. Since the fall of Cadia, the taint of the Empyrium befouls the entire galaxy. And the human psychers can act as a conduit to it. I know your humans have very few of them, and they are weak, but they could lead you to ruin. And Chaos does love to subvert human planets with bizarre cults, or so I am told. Be wary of such things." That made Rahkaak's head hurt. She hated dealing with sorcery. Then Manric suddenly spoke.
"Please, may we move this meeting to the training room? It should be big enough for all of us." What did he – "We really need all of this marked on a map of the galaxy, as best Ahmakeph can manage, and recorded by AI and STC." Ahmakeph waved that concern away.
"I have already made a map, after this I will give it to the AI, as my repayment to you." Ah, good. "The next greatest threat to you are the Tyranids." What? "They are alien parasites, that came from outside the galaxy. You are very lucky they did not find you, or this world would be nothing but a dead husk. And I assure you, it was a very near miss: Hive Fleet Behemoth went directly through this sector, and claimed many worlds." Ahmakeph paused for a moment, adding gravity to his next words. "They devour all biomass and are considered an enemy to all races, including our own." Devour all biomass… Rahkaak was almost speechless. What had they awoken to?
"However, the greatest threat to your Dynasty in particular is the Imperium of Man." Ahmakeph looked at Manric who just looked back, his face completely still. "The Imperium is the star spanning empire of the human race. It is a failing empire, with failing technology, but still strong as it fades. They have lost more than they can remember, including all of their STC." Ahmakeph laughed then, a cold bitter sound. "You speak of it as if it is nothing… it is everything human, EVERYTHING. Three hundred ships met their fate trying to claim just three pages printed from your fabled STC. If they find out you have one, they will send hundreds of ships, billions of humans, all to claim it. A fleet like nothing you can imagine will descend on this world and after looting it, crack it like a nut."
"How can this be?" Manric's voice was soft. Not denying what Ahmakeph was saying, just questioning the reality he had been given. "What you are describing is nothing like the Terra we left. There was no empire, only a great network of cooperation. We have only been here five thousand years. How could things have changed so much?"
"You are out of time. I do not know by how much, but you said the life expectancy of an STC is ten thousand years. So you are past that. How much past it? I cannot say, I do not know or care about the human calendar. But you are well past that." Then there was a soft chime, catching everyone's attention.
"Yes, STC?" Rahkaak said and she noticed Ahmakeph's surprise as the female voice spoke. Ah, so this was his first time hearing the STC.
The warp storm that brought us here was of incalculable power, overwhelming the ship instruments. When we arrived, analysis indicated a very high likelihood of temporal distortion. It was very difficult to quantify, but there seemed to be a slight variance to celestial objects. But as it was impossible to determine with any certainty, this was not added to the official records of the colony. So the STC had always guessed but for an AI, merely guessing was not enough. Simokh stirred.
"The loss of our one coreworld, and the strange state of the other, would support the theory of intense temporal distortions in this area of space. Also, our Chronomancers have reported intense difficulties even practicing their craft. I did not bring this up because we were still attempting to isolate the problem, but massive distortions in the time stream could account for it."
"Do you think our lost coreworld has been displaced in time?" Rahkaak asked, distracted momentarily. Simokh flashed a glyph of uncertainty.
"It is a theory, but only that. I fear only a great Chronomancer, to the level of Orikan himself, could truly tell us what has happened." Rahkaak sighed internally. She would have to bring a bribe for Orikan, when she went to the Sautekh Dynasty. Although she glumly suspected that even the great Orikan would only be able to give her information, not correct any of the problems. Some things were too much, even for him.
"It does not matter, what is, is." Ahmakeph said, taking control of the meeting once again. "The Imperium of Man is violently xenophobic. If they take this world, they will not spare any of you, including your humans. They will be considered tainted, just for speaking to you, and exterminated without mercy." Manric made the gesture of the cross and Rahkaak interpreted that as disbelief and horror. "We necrons at least let lesser races acknowledge their inferiority, and swear loyalty to the Dynasty. Humans do not. They may be responsible for the most genocides of any race in the galaxy…" Ahmakeph paused for a moment, then laughed. "No, the orcs probably are. But they are trying."
"This is so antithetical to everything we are, everything we have always been," Manric murmured. "Even after the drukhari, we knew all xenos were not like that, and should be judged on their own merits. How could they have changed so much?"
"You should ask that xenologist of yours. But that is all I have to say about the threats you face. But, I will offer you a suggestion." What would that be? "You need to sue to Sautekh Dynasty for entry as a vassal Dynasty. You are too weak to survive in this hell. Of course, the question is, are you too weak for Sautekh to even bother with?" Ahmakeph laughed and Rahkaak almost hated him. Hated him for being right, hated him for pointing out their weakness. "Imotekh does like to claim territory so perhaps not, but I can't be sure. You should try to think of something you can offer him."
"I see. We will take your advice into account," Rahkaak said. "Thank you for the information. We will consider your debt to the Dynasty discharged." That was a formal ending to the audience and Ahmakeph bowed, departing and leaving them alone. For a moment, they were all silent, just looking at each other.
"What will we do, Phaeron?" Kototep did not sound querulous or angry. No, he sounded uncertain and almost afraid. Rahkaak could not blame him.
"I do not know, cousin. I will have to think on it. Itolyx, Manric, please analyze the strategic situation and come to me with recommendations." They both bowed and departed. Kototep fussed a bit more, before also making his departure and Rahkaak was left alone with her thoughts.
It felt like the future was a dark pane of glass, bleak and impossible to see through. But as the Phaeron, it was her duty to find the course.