Oramoton was melancholy as he thought about the path of his life.
For most of his life, he had been arrogant beyond belief. Oramoton could not remember too much of the Flesh Times, but he knew he had been very highly placed. Born with some kind of physical ailment, he had been unsuited to combat, so he had gone to become a Cryptek. And he had excelled at that, soon outstripping his tutors and the arrogance of his birth was joined with the arrogance of his overwhelming skill. Oramoton the Eternal. And when they had acquired their bodies of metal, that name had gone from being a kind of joke to merely the truth of the matter. He was Eternal.
All stripped away from him now. Had it been an enemy? Or merely the uncaring hand of fate, ripping the skein of fate to destroy him? Oramoton didn't know and wondered if it even mattered.
He had been awoken by the barely functional Coreworld AI, to attempt to defend what was left of the Tomb. At that, Oramoton had failed miserably as Trazyn the Infinite laughed at his feeble attempts. He had been left to wander the surface of that world for thousands of years, uncaring of the state of his necrodermis as he wallowed in despair. Not over the dead of the Coreworld, no, but over the fact that he could no longer move his hands in the ways he should. The stars still tried to sing to him, but Oramoton could no longer answer. All he could do was stare at them and remember what he once had been.
Meeting three strangers, from a minor Dynasty, had somehow rekindled his will to live. And to Oramoton's surprise, speaking and interacting was repairing his mind. He was no Psychomancer, no specialist in the ways of the mind, but it seemed his long isolation had done him no good. Exercising his linguistic areas, playing games and looking at their odd fiction, seemed to have the side effect of helping his hands. The gestures were coming back, although quite slowly.
Oramoton wasn't surprised by his exile from Charnovokh. Necrons had an expression quite close to one humans would recognize, 'pride came before the fall' and he had been prideful in the extreme. As soon as he'd laid eyes on the Overlord in charge of that world, he'd known. Overlord Kallathsek had hated him for a very, very long time and for very, very good reasons.
Why was I so cruel? Because he had been cruel. He'd been cruel for fun, for amusement, because he could. Trazyn had taken his staff of office, mocking him as he did, and Oramoton knew he'd earned that too. Oh, Trazyn was no prize, but Oramoton had spited him in the past for no good reason. I was a poisonous viper. And for no reason. No reason.
Humility was not something he'd ever had, but Oramoton was finding it now. It seemed appropriate penance, to spend his time on a tiny ship, assisting with soil tests. And in between planets, gazing at the stars and trying to remember how to move his hands.
Then, he had a great breakthrough.
It happened in a strange world, far too close to a Chaos rift. In retrospect, they should have just passed it by. But Necrons did not necessarily care overmuch about such rifts… they were very, very dangerous for ships that used the Warp but completely meaningless for Necron FTL travel. They could settle worlds that were quite close to Chaos, although it did pose dangers.
The world itself looked less than promising. A dark planet circling a cold ember of a sun, it would not be pleasant to live on but remote instruments indicated likely deposits of minerals and ore.
"Possible penal colony, this one," Sisus said and Valdar and Casimir exchanged a glance. "What? I would know."
"I suppose so… well, are we ready?" Oramoton had some misgivings. The planet looked quite foreboding, barely lit as it was. Glancing at the instruments, he saw there was a breathable atmosphere for organics, although very toxic. The planet itself was surprisingly hot.
As they took their ship down, it became obvious why the planet was hot… it was extremely volcanic. Oramoton watched the large volcanos blowing fire into the sky, contributing to the hot, oppressive atmosphere. The planet might have been uninhabitable but despite the rampant volcanism, it still had water. There was a great deal of vapor in the air and they flew through a torrential rain that was full of acid. Fortunately, their little ship was proof against such things but they registered it on their instruments.
"Might not be suitable for even a penal colony," Sisus observed and Oramoton nodded. They weren't particularly interested in Death Worlds, planets intrinsically hostile to human life.
"Depending on why it's like this, it might be suitable for terraforming," Casimir said, with commendable optimism. Valdar made a small glyph poem that indicated he thought this was a very bold claim.
"I can't read that. What did you say?" Sisus asked and Oramoton wondered why he seemed so unable to master glyphs. He was highly intelligent, from his skill with games and his abilities in the field. Perhaps it was just that he had few linguistic skills in general… Oramoton had noticed he never touched their supply of fiction.
"Nevermind. Sisus, Oramoton, you can do a survey of the basin…" Valdar portioned out the duties.
Oramoton paid close attention to his duties. In some ways, taking samples and using the surveying equipment reminded him of his time as a young Cryptek apprentice. This was the kind of boring, repetitive yet vital work that apprentices and low level Crypteks would be put to. And it had to be done perfectly, apprentices who did not approach their work with the utmost precision did not stay apprentices. Oramoton had always been very good at such things.
Sisus was just as good and they made an excellent team. With commendable efficiency, they surveyed the basin. They were halfway done when they suddenly received an urgent message from Valdar.
Stop all duties and return to the ship immediately! Oramoton stopped what he was doing as Sisus suddenly lit a power knife. This planet is inhabited. Hurry! Inhabited by what? But Oramoton wasn't about to disobey.
"Shit," Sisus growled and Oramoton winced. That was a very bad word in the Necron language, although he knew it was just an all purpose exclamation for him. They got on their glider to quickly and speedily head back to the ship.
When they got there, though, it was already too late.
"Shit!" This time Oramoton did not wince at the exclamation. They situation they were faced with was, indeed, fecal matter.
The tiny scout ship was surrounded by strange machines, dark and twisted. Figures in red and black cloaks were clustered around it, and Oramoton and Sisus hid behind a rock, observing them. Then Sisus activated a power knife, to Oramoton's shock.
Sisus no! You can't! Oramoton was no expert on such things but he could recognize that the strange machines were meant for war. Some of them were exceedingly obvious, with arms that terminated in great chain swords.
They have Valdar and Casimir. Ah no. Oramoton peered back and tried to spot them and finally did. They were both on the ground, being explored by what looked like metallic tentacles. Valdar was struggling but Casimir appeared completely limp, something was terribly wrong. Stay here, you can't fight. The truth of it hurt but without his staff of office or his Chronomancer abilities, Oramoton was essentially helpless.
Sisus went about it intelligently. He snuck close before stabbing the person who was holding Valdar down with those tentacles. That let Valdar jump to his feet and try to fight as well… Casimir did not move and Oramoton feared he was already dead. If not, he was very badly injured.
The battle that followed was very fierce but ultimately doomed. And Oramoton got to see how they had missed the signs of any habitation… the strangers were using warp gates, tears in reality, to come from somewhere else. Deep underground or even farther away? He couldn't be sure. But while Sisus and Valdar had some success at first, they were quickly overwhelmed as gates opened and spat out reinforcements.
The one Sisus had stabbed was still alive, and seemed angry about it. He pinned Sisus to the ground with those tentacles and to Oramoton's horror, one of them dug into the base of Sisus' skull. He arched in what appeared to be agony and struggled hard, grasping tentacles and trying to pry them away. It seemed to be useless, as he could gain no purchase on them.
Oramoton knew when Sisus was, for all intents and purposes, dead. His grip on the tentacles weakened, then his hands fell away as he went limp. His eyes were flashing irregularly and Oramoton could see the signs of fatal engrammatic damage… if he were released at this moment, he would technically still be alive, but the person he had been was gone. Then his eyes went cold and dead, even that feeble flicker of life departing.
All three of them were dragged through another of those gates and Oramoton felt a deep coldness in his flux. Valdar was still alive, and what of himself? He would be trapped on another alien world, but one even worse than the last… Oramoton did not think he could actually survive more than a few decades here. The conditions were corrosive and without Canoptek Scarabs and other maintenance, necrodermis could only do so much. Yet, he thought he would vastly prefer that slow death to whatever these creatures might do to him.
What can I do? Oramoton wasn't feeling despair yet, he was too much in shock as he lifted his head and gazed at the stars. Miraculously, the dark clouds had parted and he could actually see them. And the stars…
The stars were right.
Moving almost in a trance, Oramoton began to gesture. For the first time in so long, his true skill, the ability of the greatest of Chronomancers, was in his hands. Every gesture was perfection, and the power he channeled was as great as anything in his life. I am Oramoton the Eternal. The skeins of fate answer to me. With consummate skill he re-ordered the skeins of fate, reworking time to choose another path.
"Possible penal colony, this one," Sisus said and Valdar and Casimir exchanged a glance. "What? I would know."
"I suppose so… well, are we ready?"
"No." Oramoton said and all three of them looked at him, surprised. "This planet is inhabited. We will be ambushed and Sisus and Casimir will be killed, while Valdar is taken for experimentation. I will be left to die on the surface of the world." This was not merely the future, it was what had happened, but no longer would. He was choosing a new path.
"What the…" Casimir muttered as he made glyphs of shock. Sisus was more hard headed.
"What these inhabitants look like?" Oramoton did his best to describe them and Sisus exchanged a glance with Valdar. "Dark Mechanicus," Sisus growled and Valdar nodded.
"We should have guessed… it has minerals and it's close to the warp rift. Still, there's no sign of habitation, no hint of their forges. I wonder if they are underground?" Valdar said even as he worked at the controls of the ship, plotting a new course. "Also, Oramoton, did you notice you're not stammering?" Yes… he had noticed that.
"I am feeling better." Oramoton thought the improvement was only temporary. The stars had been right and for a moment, his engrams and mnemonics had come together, returning to their original state. He would undoubtedly degrade and in fact, he felt it happening right now. But it was still an incredibly hopeful sign.
Oramoton had no doubt that the damage to his mind could be healed. He only had to be patient.