Overlord Khanokh hadn't mentioned it, and didn't intend to, but the treasure of the Dynasty had been left intact.
He knew exactly why. Trazyn knew better than to loot the very foundation of the Dynasty, the precious metals and trade goods that were needed to maintain the Dynasty itself. Instead he'd taken the precious relics, the staves of dead Crypteks and Overlords, the beautifully made cloaks and ancient orbs. Perhaps he'd even gotten some relics of the necrontyr, if this Dynasty had bothered to keep them. Khanokh felt irritated at him, but only a bit. At least they still had the rest.
That left the contents of the treasury, the ingots of silver, gold and platinum. The larger, more pedestrian but still extremely valuable ingots of adamantium and other metals. The tiny little casket containing the Dynasties entire supply of transpositanium. THAT must have been tempting for Trazyn to take, but he'd controlled himself. It was very valuable, wars could be fought over that precious metal, but it had no particular historical relevance so Trazyn had passed it by. Also, a beautiful assortment of gems were on display although Khanokh noticed a few of those were missing. Likely either extremely large and perfect, or highly unusual in some way, they had been taken to join Trazyn's collection.
If this had been his Dynasty – Khanokh was from a smaller Dynasty in service to Sautekh – he would have been outraged. But it wasn't, so he just shrugged and went on with the mission. They quietly gathered the treasures and moved them to their ships, not breathing a word to the humans of the wealth beneath their feet. It wasn't theirs but they might want a slice of it, if they knew, so it was better to just avoid problems. Were they stealing it themselves? Yes, in a sense, but with some justification as they were going to be accepting the survivors even if they were completely useless.
Khanokh had a feeling they were going to be useless. Perhaps the Psychomancers and souls would help, but the kind of weapon that had been used on them was noted for causing gross engrammatic damage. Khanokh wondered who had done it. Likely some old enemy that woke a bit early and decided to even a score.
They concentrated their efforts on the Great Tomb, the resting place of the Phaeron. After three days, they penetrated the seals and found the Phaeron and his guard were still alive and began the awakening procedures. The first to awaken were a few Lychguard who proved to be insane. They were restrained so the very powerful Psychomancer they had brought with them could give them a thorough examination. Khanokh waited on the Phaeron, his Staff of Light in hand. An insane Phaeron could be extremely dangerous.
Fortunately, that did not come to pass. The Phaeron of the Xahkeph Dynasty came out of his sleep as coherent, if extremely addled.
"Ah, my son, the time of awakening has come?" He asked in a voice that was badly refracted. The lights of his body were all blinking as he was gently helped from his sarcophagus by the crypteks. Khanokh blinked his oculars as he realized he was being addressed.
"I am not your son, Great Phaeron. I am afraid misfortune has fallen upon you," Khanokh said carefully. This would be very hard for the Phaeron to deal with, waking to a broken Crownworld. Fortunately, or not, he wasn't really listening.
"Come Tadutaten, let us awaken the rest of the Tomb together. Is Sautekh awake yet? Perhaps we can finally subjugate them to our banner." Well that just got a bit awkward. Khanokh actually found it rather funny though. Perhaps at the absolute xenith of their power, the Xahkeph had dreamed of making Sautekh a vassal but at this point in time that was utterly laughable. The Psychomancer left aside the Lychguard to come examine the Phaeron.
"I am sorry Phaeron, I am not your son. I am here from the Sautekh Dynasty and I bear bad news… it appears an enemy woke before you, and launched a terrible and cunning attack." Khanokh wasn't sure how they had done it. Tombs should be well shielded from such things… normally, the only electro-magnetic disruptions that could kill them were from the suns they orbited. The story of the humans, of a single ship coming into orbit and bombarding the planet, hinted at some highly unusual device. Perhaps a one off creation, they might never know what it was but if Xahkeph had some kind of sworn enemy, using it up to kill a Crownworld was a worthwhile thing indeed. "We are still searching for survivors but overall, your subjects have tasted final death." Khanokh wasn't sure of the population of this Crownworld but given that Xahkeph had been a contender for the halls of power, it would surely number in the tens of billions. Perhaps even a trillion. Honestly, for Khanokh himself, this outcome was not a bad one… if they had discovered the Tomb completely intact, they would have needed to be very careful in the awakening and bring in many Sautekh vessels and possibly Imperial ones as well, to sufficiently intimidate the Xahkeph Dynasty into abandoning the Crownworld. They wouldn't want to, they would want to scour it of organic life and reclaim it, but the Imperium of Man just wasn't going to let that happen. Despite the great loss of life, Khanokh was glad that was a non-issue.
"Bad news… cunning attack…?" The Phaeron sounded confused and querulous. "Why are you saying such things? It is time to reclaim our glory." Hmm, this might not be deep engrammatic damage. The Psychomancer confirmed his thoughts via interstitial messaging.
I believe he is fully recoverable but will require some in depth treatment. Can you humor him for now? We should get him to Mandragora for more work. Right.
"Then come, join us on our ship. We will go to awaken the Coreworlds, for the glory of Xahkeph," Khanokh said and they might actually do that, ultimately. They would need the locations of those Coreworlds first, the Crownworld had been known to them but most of the others were not. The AI was almost completely destroyed but the Phaeron himself could provide the locations, if he could be brought back to sanity.
"Yes… yes, my son, we should do that." More of the Lychguard were rousing now and at least two of them were only confused and quickly recovered, moving to attend to their Phaeron. The others… a few didn't awaken at all, but the rest might be recoverable. "We must go to Coreworld Xenphra first, to find your mother, my beloved co-ruler." Oh, that was right, Xahkeph had the odd custom of sharing power between the Phaeron and his wife. She was also called Phaeron, if Khanokh remembered correctly. For a moment, he felt a deep sadness for them. Was Tadutaten still alive, in one of the crypts they had yet to open, or had he tasted true death? Hopefully they would recover him but until then, Khanokh would play the part.
"Yes Phaeron. Please, follow me." Khanokh led him out and the Lychguard were more hesitant than their Phaeron, knowing something was wrong. As they glanced around though, Khanokh could see the two Lychguard were fully functional and comprehending their situation, so they just went along with it. As Khanokh took the battered, broken Phaeron to his ship, he reflected on the situation. They would be lucky to get even a hundred survivors out of this Crownworld.
Hopefully, whatever planet that hosted Coreworld Xenphra had not suffered such a fate.
Qarenna woke from an endless dream into an infinite hell.
"We're playing hide and seek mommy?" Little Imothaka, named after her husband's mother, looked up at her with a bright smile. Qarenna was terrified but hiding it well as she gently held her daughter's hand.
"Yes sweety, we're going to hide. Can you show me how well you can hide with me?" Qarenna said, a bit of a quaver in her voice. Imothaka did not notice, thankfully, bobbing her head. Her little child braids ratted a little, the beads bouncing against each other.
"I know a good spot mommy!" Qarenna did not let Imothaka take the lead though. She was only a child and her ideas of hiding places were rudimentary. Qarenna found a good place to hide, a small trapdoor under the servants' quarters. Khamus had shown it to her a long time ago and mentioned it was often used as a small root cellar. There were already a few servants hiding in it and they looked at her with wide eyes but said nothing as she joined them. There was room, if just barely.
"You are a noble… do you know what is happening?" One of them whispered and Qarenna shook her head.
"Only that Imotekh has gone into rebellion against the Silent King." And while she didn't understand why, Qarenna knew that meant something had to be horrendously wrong with the offers of the C'Tan. Imotekh himself was on the very edge of death, his body virtually a machine. To reject this offer of immortality could only mean it was grossly tainted in some way. From the frightened looks of the servants, they all understood that as well.
"Mommy?" Imothaka was realizing something was terribly wrong as she saw other adults in their hiding place. She looked up at her mother with wide eyes and Qarenna gave her a forced smile, gently stroking her braided hair.
"We need to be quiet. Can you be quiet for me, sweetie?" Imothaka gave her a frightened nod before huddling close to her. Qarenna held her close, that small body against hers, and prayed Imotekh would save them. From what, she did not know, but she had complete faith in his judgement so she knew it was something terrible.
That was where they were found, by the mechanical forces of the Silent King. Last in was first out, and Qarenna was dragged out by a cold mechanical hand as her daughter screamed.
"MOMMY!" Qarenna stared into the face of the machine and saw nothing there. Just gleaming metal and glowing green 'eyes'. Was this the immortality that they were expected to take? Qarenna didn't want it. She struggled to break free but she might as well have been fighting against a giant, as it simply dragged her away with unnatural strength. "MOMMY!" Another of them had Imothaka and she tried to reach out to her daughter.
"IMOTHAKA!" The servants were also dragged out, terrified and they were forced to join the others being herded to the Furnace. Qarenna lost her daughter, seeing her frightened eyes as she was carried away. She tried to break free of the monsters, again and again until one hit her in the head. Pain exploded through her and Qarenna could no longer see, as blood colored her vision. She went limp for a moment and heard another of the machines speak.
"Do not damage them too much. The gods must feast." No. No no no!
"What are you doing with my baby…" Qarenna whispered but she knew. This was why Imotekh had gone into rebellion and he had failed, someone help them, he had failed… Qarenna was only a young woman, she was helpless as they dragged her through the Furnace.
The only blessing of that moment was that then, for a very long time, the pain went away.
Qarenna wanted the pain to stay away, she wanted to forget, but that was no longer an option anymore. Other memories tortured her, endless wars and strange planets, firing her weapons again and again. Also endless hallways, walking, walking, walking forever in patterns that never changed. It might have driven her mad but someone else was there, helping her get through this agony of recollection. And a voice whispering in her ear.
Mommy is here. I know it's hard, but I love you, please come home. Mommy… her own mother? Her mother had been so busy, a high noble and matriarch of the family, but Qarenna had still loved her and tried to make her proud. The voice was strange and different but she turned to it like a light in the darkness.
"Mother…?" Qarenna truly roused from that horror to see her mother's face. It was a machine, just like the ones that had dragged her through the Furnace, but she was wearing her headdress. It was the same as the one she had favored when she was alive, decorated with diamonds and emeralds and beautiful plaques. Qarenna remembered her mother bending her head so little Imothaka could giggle and grab at those plaques. That one thing grounded her, keeping her from panic at the sight of the cold metal things they had become. "They took Imothaka. They took her…" To feed the gods. Qarenna was sure of it, everything made sense and the grief overwhelmed her. Without thinking, she screamed and then her mother was hugging her, their metal bodies together as she cried out her pain.
"I know. I know and I'm so sorry, we all tried, I'm sorry…" Udjemka comforted her and as she wept, another voice spoke from behind her.
"Imothaka… I remember now. You named her after Khamus' mother…" Qarenna realized that had to be Imotekh and raised her head to look at him. It was so strange, seeing him as a machine, but again there was a small resemblance.
"Khamus, where is he…" Qarenna knew when Imotekh looked down. "No… not him too…" Why had she been returned to this? It made her want to die.
It took time for her to come to terms with all she had lost, but she managed it, after a fashion. Finding out about what had happened to Khamus, from his grieving father, was heartbreaking. But when the painful grief passed, Qarenna found it in herself to try to put together the pieces of her life. Despite everything she had lost, her mother and her father-in-law were still here. She would help her mother in her work, governing these 'humans'.
Despite everything, there were still things to live for.
Anhomqena was born into life with some very crucial advantages.
No one would have thought so at the time. She was an orphan, of unknown parentage, placed on the steps of the orphanage as a mere infant. An unwanted child, likely born to an unwed mother of little standing. Such situations were rare but not unknown… the necrontyr were deeply connected with both family and caste, raising the children in great webs of support. But among the lower castes the indolent and addicted were not tolerated, dead weight was cast aside so all could survive. Such wretches became uncaste, criminals, whores and other varieties of scum. They were exactly the kind to leave a child on the orphanage steps. It was also possible Anhomqena could have come from nobility… some foolish daughter, secretly giving birth unwed and setting aside the child so she could still marry as untouched. However, the first was far more likely.
The conditions of such orphanages and the treatment of the children in them varied widely by Dynasty. The only way to tell if a Dynasty took good care of such children was the existence of a special, child care caste, devoted just to them. That was a sign that the conditions were good, as those devoted to nothing else gave them good care.
Sautekh had such a caste and that was the first good fortune Anhomqena had in life. The second was that the orphanage fed into the military caste, but in a very particular way. Males were raised to be strong and sturdy, then given to the military caste for training. Females were raised to be camp whores. A kind of adjunct to the females who were military born, if they pleased the males they would be allowed to truly join the military caste females. That was an excellent deal for them, as they would then have access to food and work, even when they were well past childbearing age.
The second and third advantages Anhomqena had were her transcendent, radiant beauty and her keen intelligence. The matron running the orphanage took particular note of her and taught her to read, as well as quietly told her how she might get ahead in life. Anhomqena had taken all her advice to heart and when she had been taken to join the war camps, far away on an alien world, she had aimed directly for the top. The Stormlord himself.
Imotekh was incredibly old by that time, yet still strong and shockingly virile. It was well known he was still capable of siring sons and no female had complained of his attentions. Anhomqena brought herself untouched to him, something that surprised him greatly. She became his favored concubine and waited patiently. When the many year campaign was finishing and another enemy was crushed, she whispered her desire in his ear after they made love. His chuckle had been knowing and appreciative.
You are as intelligent as you are beautiful. Very well, I will grant your desire and have you elevated in caste. Anhomqena exulted at the thought. That had been her aim all along, to join the true pleasure caste, serving the nobility. But be aware, I am merely a lecherous old male. There are those in the palace who are true degenerates. That warning sobered her a bit, because she had no doubt it was true and there were risks to being a palace prostitute. Still, it was a great elevation in status and Anhomqena's plans went even further than that. Had the Stormlord guessed her ultimate intentions? She thought that even then, he had.
Imotekh brought her to the palace with him as he presented another victory at the Phaeron's feet and true to his word, he elevated her caste. He personally asked that one of the great matrons of the pleasure caste take her under her wing, and that older female had done so. Anhomqena also ingratiated herself quite thoroughly with the other older females, the ones well past child bearing age yet who held great power in the matters of the caste. The young females, her direct competitors, mostly hated her for being so beautiful and an outsider but their opinions did not matter when the elders were not on their side.
The palace truly was a cesspit of degeneracy and Anhomqena found herself introduced to it all. It did indeed make the Stormlord's tastes that of a simple, military male, nothing more. As she plied her trade, though, Anhomqena looked for the next target of her ambitions. While being a palace prostitute was truly a great achievement, she wanted more. She aimed to become part of the nobility.
It was, on the face of it, an absurd idea. Yet it COULD be done, if you were both stunningly beautiful and very clever. To become ennobled, Anhomqena needed to achieve a marriage to a male who was both old and very powerful. Age was important because if a young male tried to take her hand in marriage, the elders would step in to put a stop to it. While for the few necrontyr males who managed to live to what passed for old age, taking a young and pretty wife was virtually a tradition.
The power of the male was, however, incredibly important. Very few ranks of nobility had the power to ennoble a commoner female and without that, no honorable marriage could be proposed. Anhomqena set her sights on Lord Osatek. One of the Stormlord's children by his first wife, he was directly related to the Phaeron and had the power of ennoblement. He was also known to be a kind and quiet male, not the best in bed perhaps but acceptable. Anhomqena was truly husband hunting, so she wanted someone she could live with. If the male she selected was too odious she COULD try to poison him, eventually, but that was a very dangerous game to play. Anhomqena vastly preferred to just genuinely bring herself to an honest marriage into the nobility.
As her method to get closer to Osatek, Anhomqena proposed that she become his model. He loved the idea and they began working closely together. No one in the court knew, but the bust he made of the Phaeron's wife was only partially her features. He used Anhomqena as a secondary model, to make the bust extremely flattering. It was subtly done and Anhomqena thought that Osatek was showing the promise of being a very fine sculptor indeed. It was a shame that the necrontyr had such short lives, it was unlikely he would have more than ten years left to perfect his craft.
Anhomqena was very close to her goal when the time of biotransference came. She remembered standing with Osatek's arm around her, wordlessly comforting her as they watched the Phaeron's soldiers walking through the furnace.
"Don't worry. You will have a fine career as a Lord, I will see to it," Osatek said encouragingly and Anhomqena nodded, still feeling a deep qualm. Her greatest strength was her beauty, which was about to be wiped away. She still had her intellect, though, and Osatek had promised that he and the Stormlord would see about her ennobling.
She saw it instantly when everything started to go wrong. With her long experience in the battlefield, if as a supporter, Anhomqena saw the war formation and knew what was going to happen next. The gauss flayers opened fire and fire was returned as Osatek stiffened beside her.
"Father, what are you doing?! You are disobeying the Phaeron!" He exclaimed as Anhomqena felt numb, watching the battle starting. There was so much confusion happening as the forces of the Sautekh turned against each other and the C'Tan seemed to laugh. "Why would you do this?"
"Because he knows something," Anhomqena said, turning her head to stare at the C'Tan. One of them even seemed to look back, or perhaps it was her imagination. "What have they done?" Anhomqena knew Imotekh well and knew he would never do such a thing unless he felt that he absolutely had to, that there was no other choice.
"Ah no… I…" Osatek stopped in confusion and dismay. There was nothing he could do to help… his old injuries had healed well, with implants to aide in mobility, but he was unfit for duty. Imotekh's body had meshed seamlessly with his implants but Osatek had not been so lucky, he had a permanent limp. And it was too late anyway – they were standing much too close to the Furnace and with the battle ongoing, everyone in close proximity was being pushed through. Anhomqena did not bother to run. Perhaps she could have gotten away but at this moment, she found that she could not leave Osatek. And he could not run.
They were both grabbed and forced to the furnace. Osatek tried to fight, to defend her, but it was honestly rather sad. Anhomqena did not fight, just staring at the green light of the Furnace as she tried to futiley dig in her heels, making them drag her.
Before she entered the fire and lost everything, her last thought was that she wouldn't be getting ennobled after all.