Hi, this will be the last update for an "ISOT in Grimdark" as was obvious with the last chapter being named Epilog 1! The main story is over and Wolf and I worked hard to create an epilog with fitting ends to most persons and story arcs we depicted. While some parts are different in tone because of our personal perferences, the last few sentences we fully agreed on that we wanted to end the story with a fitting warhammer-like end! I hope you have fun with the last chapter! Maybe there will be some sidestories, but currently this is not sure.
Imperial Tower, Naggarond, Naggaroth 2634
The clamps were shaped like lions' heads, the rounded shape betraying their Cathayan provenance and connected by a silver chain. The teeth were blunted from long use and the springs should have been replaced quite a while ago.
Imperatrix Bane knew about all of that, still she would not change one of the mementos that reminded her of Hua, the love of her life who was no longer with her. The concubine who was the current victim of the clamps was at least as beautiful and inventive as the Cathayan had been, as willing to please and genuinely aroused from Bane's ministrations. Still, she was not the little minx who had pulled her from the depths of depression and had touched her heart like nobody else had done before or after. In the bad old days she would have granted Hua a Ritual of Blood. Not only was this no longer possible, but Bane was sure it would have broken everything that made Hua Hua.
Her current companion could only do so much to gain her attention either way, an armbinder which made her elbows touch in her back and a gag saw to that. Areta was still mentally elsewhere when she tightened the screws on those clamps and nearly missed the concubine's faint sounds.
Instead she was mentally juggling if and where she could find another Geese company for the latest request she had received. Most of her available troops were either trying to pacify the ashes of the Greater Mughal, or guarding the approaches to the Great Maw. So far they were earning their keep and helped to gain influence for Naggaroth. The Wild Geese were under pressure providing the manpower for all of these deployments.
She turned the screws another turn while she pondered that a bird had sung to her that the decision to close the Maw with a KEW had finally been taken. Studying an interface into the Warp had been interesting enough, but the demon at its other end made things difficult and dangerous. So those mercenaries would have to be employed elsewhere soon and a long-term contract in another star system was certainly lucrative.
However the last time Interplanetary Expeditions had explored a similar sets of ruins things had gotten seriously out of hand, so much so that even Areta was not sure if she wanted to expose her people to such risks.
Interstellar Expeditions had serious pull with the Reiksbund though, so much so that she suspected them to be connected to Wolfgang's patrons. Maybe she should demand access to really modern power armor and drones for the Geese? That would considerably enhance the value of the Mercenaries for future contracts? Turning the screws a final time Areta decided that for a 300% surcharge and access to better systems she would cut a company loose for the Ultima Thule dig. Having that decision made she turned to more exciting matters, her concubine was certainly paying attention by now…
Hall of Mirrors, Versailles, Earth, same time
Markus VanderSchanz looked at the vial in hand and tried to make up his mind. Its contents had been cleansed, sanctified, and diluted to a degree only possible when combining high technology and middling magic. It was as safe to take as Marienburg mages and French scientists could make it. All of that was well and good, still the vial glowed enough to color the palm of his hand green. The main ingredient in the vial was Warpstone, and no amount of sanctification and high-tech-filtration could make it safe by any sane standard.
If things went moderately well the contents would give him a week of migraines, would leave him bereft of magic for a month, and shave a couple of months off of his life expectancy. If things went badly he would die in the clutches of burning pain and cramps. However, if the demon Murphy had it in for him, he would not merely die, his soul would burn. In exchange for the real risks and the certain pain he could hold the connection to the Warhammer World for 42 minutes instead of 27.
It would also make him rich beyond all dreams of avarice.
The mirror he was to connect with was still the same used all these years ago by the first Marienburger wizards, even if its wooden parts had been lovingly restored. The space before it was a solid mass of sensors and laser emitters. He was not as ignorant about technology as his late grandfather Marius had been back in the day, but even that worthy would have seen that the lasers were considerably outnumbered by the detectors. There was a lot more information coming in than going out.
The laser receptors stationed here were the best of their kind, able to gather every bit and byte that would be sent from the Warhammer World at a speed that he could name but not imagine. And every byte that made it across was potentially a gold mine. His grandfather had told him that it had been the other way around the first times. Earth had sent data about technology and entertainment, the Germans news about a strange, strange world. Ever since they had access to the data of the Old Ones the data exchanges between the Warhammer World and Earth were looked forward to and dreaded in equal amounts. The data would fuel new research and technology, would give rise to new industries and therapies.
At the same time the new data often caused old processes to become outdated, coveted raw materials became worthless and cherished theories joined the heliocentric world model.
Great riches and wonderful insights waited for those who were flexible in mind and possessed the means to interpret the data fast and implement it in the real world. There was an added problem: Neither the Germans nor the Old Ones provided good insights into the potential futures: The Old Ones had been literally inhuman and the Germans had access to pretty advanced Nanites and high-powered AIs, not to forget powerful magic.
The richer nations on Earth were just moving ahead to a second generation of Nanites which barely possessed the capability for self-replication. On top of that there was next to no Magitech on Earth, it played an important role on the Warhammer World. All in the nations on Earth profited enormously from the data exchange, but there were definitively winners and losers.
Markus VanderSchantz felt quite a lot of eyes on him, a great lot of people, representing both nations and Zaibatsu, were here to make sure that all data would be shared equally. Time for a decision on that capsule. Ah well, chicks dig scars and glory lasts forever…
Grand Guild of the Magical Arts, Marienburg, Earth 2641 IC
„It has stopped! It has really stopped!"
„No chance of it just being a pause?"
„Not really. Since three years in a row now the time intervalls between our communications with the other Universe have stayed the same. In the decades prior there was a steady lengthening of the time going by until we could contact Warhammer again. Likewise has the timespan we can hold the connection been steady. In former times there was a feelable shortening unless we countered it with warpstone use.
I theorise that has to do with Earth and Warhammer sharing parts of each other. That is an unbreakable connection and I estimate both universes have reached the maximum distance they can have to the other world in Superspace and Space-Time.
Another hint into this direction is that we can use more Magic on Earth than before, even if it is a shadow of what is possible on my ancestors homeworld. Earth has moved, for a lack of better term, closer to the Warp and also reached the farest distance to the other universe."
„It is most definitely helping that Magic, while on a lower level, is stabilising and useful now. Your Grandfather´s prediction was right."
„Yes, he was! And it enabled us to save Marienburg and turn it´s fortunes into a new direction. Grandpa was not a vain man, but I am sure he would have found the „Marius VanderSchanz Market" a touching gesture, if he had lived to the completion of that city quarter."
Marienburg had been looking into the Abyss following the Weltensrpung Centuries behind in technological development, most of it´s land area occupied by Earth nations, the Eoder (an acronym for the rests of Elbe and Oder river reamining on Earth) not of the impoertance the Reik had for the city, Marienburg was nothing but a ball to play with for the major Earth nations.
This only changed once it became clear the magic was returning to the Blue Planet, if in measured doses and latest with the secret attack by the three demon princes just 4 years after the Weltensprung. Marienburg harboured the world´s most knowledgable experts for magic and it showed. The citystate became and stayed to this day THE main point for magical education on Earth. While some other famous universities also implemented magical programs and studies, it was based on the research and experience of Marienburg and it´s wizards and to a lesser extend information gained via the data exchange with Warhammer.
The shrewd leadership of the city used this leverage over the rest of the world to reset it´s position in importance. In the year 2133 AD Marienburg ruled over roughly 40% of it´s former territory again, had a moderately important harbour and was a leader in the research and application of integrating magic into Earth´s life and industry.
Like for Germany in the Warhammer Starsystem, usable magic effects led to an industrial revolution 5.0 on Earth, if on a feelable lower level than on Mana- and Warpenergy rich Warhammer world with it´s close connection to the Warp. But that did not hinder progress too much, since Magitech could deliver nice results with few magic input if you knew what you did.
Earth was also expanding into Space, if for now only in the Solar system, this was also pushed forward with a little magic.
RSS Matsuyama, Iwate Shin, Iwate Starzone, Nipponese Empire 2700 IC
Ushugun Taisa or Itto Ushusa (Spaceforce Colonel) Akiko Yamamoto had cut her connection with the Battleship she commanded and stood up from the command throne, it was time for a holiday. Matsuyama was docked at Iwate Shin´s high orbit Space complex, beside the caretaker crew all others, the Captain included would soon be off ship for a weeklong holiday.
One of the monitors on the bridge showed a flyby of the ship by one of the Space station´s drones, which could also be seen there or on the ground, if logged into the channel.
It was one the few occasions the nameplates of the ship were lighted, because in space operation this was even more rarely done. Traditionally warships of the Reiksbund had two nameplates. One the Reiksbund registry, the other what the member state would name the ship all by themselves.
Matsuyama´s upper plate began with RSS, Reiksbund Sternenschiff (Reiksbund Starship), Matsuyama. below it in smaller letters the service number 0112 and KNS for Kaiserreich Nippon Schlachtschiff (Nipponese Empire Battleship)
The second nameplate red. NTUS, Nippon Teikoku Ushu Senkan (Nipponese Empire Space warship) Matsuyama.
Iwate Shin was the jewel of the Nipponese colonies in Space. One of the few worlds extremely Earth- and Warhammerlike even before the Old Ones did their „terraforming games", it had been settled during the first dedicated push into Space by the Nipponese and grew from there.
It was part of the so-called „Erste Ring" (First Ring), colony worlds of several Warhammer nations which were deemed so important, that it was decided to start the taxing, and complicated process of building new Warpgates to directly connect these worlds to the Warhammer -System.
The colonies of he Erste Ring were Immerwald (Germany), Iwate Shin (Nippon) and Neureikland (Empire). That all these colonies were settled mostly by humans was not be accident.
While especially the Asur and Dawi among the Non-Humans were very present in Space, they were hampered by factionalism in their nations. A sizeable number of planets, moons and spacestations had been settled by those unsatisfied with the status quo on Warhammer, so these colonies were rather loath to be ruled by Lothern or the High King.
From the book „Conquest of Space", 4th edition, Springer Verlag 2712 IC
When the Kreuzung system with it´s Stargate nexus was secured for our world in 2546 IC and research began to start, soon three findings emerged.
First, we were in a sector of Space cut off from the rests of the Stargate net the Old Ones build. The most distant Gate in the spinwards direction of the Galaxy, in the Krug Starzone, can only be used to travel back towards our part of Space and „sideways" to the Itza Starzone gate, in this case. The same is true for the antispinwards gate at Shanxi Starzone, the Deep Space one in Sundstaden Starzone and the Gloval Starzone gate corewards.
While gatejumping can distort the view how much distance can be travelled by just a single jump, generally the more jumps you need to take, the more distant your destination is. Prime example, Shanxi, which is the most distant antispinwards Starzone by both lightyears and number of jumps. Still, there are notable exceptions, for example Nueva Magritta Starzone is three jumps away from Warhammer Starzone, but could be reached with sublight ships in comparably short time if we would have no gates available. Immerwald Starzone is only a single jump away today, but is 4 times as distant as Nueva Magritta in lightyears.
Second, whatever happened to the Old Ones, it was quick and devastating. We found a number of Stargates in various stages of completion and construction. They were busy expanding in this part of Space, when the Old Ones were overcome.
We learned that our part of space was deliberately cut off from the rest of the Gate network as a safety measure, but it seems it did not help the Old Ones much. What befell them either could still reach here or it was already here when the local Stargate network was isolated.
What is clear so far is that at least a thousand lightyears into every direction we are alone. There might be a couple pre-industrial alien species living on planets the Gate network does not reach, but that is speculation.
Still, even in the places we can reach there is so much to research and find, the people of Warhammer and settled space all have a very long time ahead to do so.
Xiaolang, Shanxi, Shanxi Starzone, Empire of Cathay 2721 IC
Xiaolang Spaceport
Shao Jiang (Major General) Kenneth Williams took a sip from his tea mug and internally smiled with joy. The New Assam blend from Ind was of the right strength and intense taste, warming him like few other things could.
It had been time for a "proper cuppa" of afternoon tea, no matter that he was working for the Empire of Cathay, some things were sacred. Not that it was a problem, most personell in the tower were likewise doing a pause, it was a quiet afternoon. Well, most afternoons in Xiaolang or Shanxi and surrounding space were easy going.
Shanxi had the distinction of not only being the most distant colony from the Warhammer world, both by gate jumps and lightyears, but sitting in the "wrong" direction of expansion as well. Next and still quite a bit of distance away neighbour was Iserlohn Starzone. Iserlohn was a joint German-Imperial colony, but mainly a military one, to secure the backyard of the Space claimed by the major Warhammer powers.
The Iserlohn colony was a fortress with some civilian settlements in the temperate zone, practically the border post to the region of "here be Dragons".
Shanxi existed mainly as a bid for prestige by the Cathayans. Cathay had been a latecomer to space colonisation among the major powers of the Warhammer World. Due to this the government in Weijing wanting to show their prowess, chose the place for their fifth colony with specific intent beyond Iserlohn Starzone.
For several decades Iserlohn had been the most distant settlement in the rimwards/anti-spinwards region. With only a few gates and truly worthwhile star systems this region of space was sparsely settled. In fact, it was the backwater section of known space and most of the colonies here were the size of small cities with low growth, the vast majority private enterprises.
In this case it helped the Cathayian Emperor and his government with their vision. With few areas of space claimed by anyone, it had been easy to plant the Yellow Dragon flag on a nice planet and by going well beyond Iserlohn Weijing tried to express that they were a space nation you had to reckon with.
But politics aside the very fact of Shanxi´s position made sure that it became a small, laidback frontier world with many open jobs and an anything goes, tip of civilisation reputation.
It had been these free and rather well-paying jobs which had brought Kenneth Williams to the Imperial Cathayian Shanxi Defence Force, as the militia had been gloriously named.
Kenneth´s self-claimed "Many-Great" Grandparents had been a young married couple in the British Army on the Rhine, which had been taken by the Weltensprung to Warhammer with the rest of Germany.
While some of the Rhine Army personal finally settled in Germany, many, like the Williams family went to Albion to help them. Albion was the closest thing to a somewhat Britannic nation on Warhammer, even if a fairly backward one.
While this help by the British immigrants made an impact and lifted Albion up, there were some things which stood in the way of Albion becoming a truly major power, for example low population compared to the other major powers. Still, Albion made itself a name and even founded a colony off-world, Camelot in Lanark Starzone.
Kenneth´s Grandparents were the ones to settle on Camelot, where he was born. Camelot was definitely a place of of displaced Earthlings and Warhammer Albion in Space, very British, very, very Scottish, but by definition it was not a populous colony, it could not be.
Williams had been born long after the Weltensprung, he knew Earth Great Britain only through stories, books, pics, and movies. Even some stuff from the reduced contact with Earth. But logically he knew just some "snapshots" of his ancestors' home, still to his eyes New Lanark, the capital city of Camelot, showed a lot of the life and culture of Britain, Scotland, Albion, and the way of life of the Stranded they forged for themselves.
New Aberdeen, for instance, the second largest city on Camelot was very Scottish down to the way the houses looked, even more than New Lanark was.
But as much as Kenneth liked his home world, Camelot was rather provincial in many ways. Both New Lanark and New Aberdeen had about 20,000 citizens each, Camelot as a whole about 100,000. Even with an acceptable growth rate and some immigration, Camelot would stay among the least populated colonies for a long time to come.
So when he finished school and his four year stint with the Royal Albion Army, he wanted to see the "world". For a few years he travelled the gateways. First naturally the Warhammer Starzone, the center of settled Space. From Warhammer, the capital world, to the icy plains of Obscuria, the tenth and most distant planet there, onwards to neighbouring star system Alpha Eins.
Then visiting over a dozen colonies. During his travels he saw the adverts from Cathay, needing people for Shanxi.
Kenneth was looking forward to building up a nest egg for later on, when he had family and so he volunteered. His experience in the Army saw him going for the local militia. Now twelve years after this, he was the commander-in-chief of all Cathayan forces in Shanxi Starzone. While it was an accomplishment, Williams was not so blinded by his rise through the ranks that he saw the relation of his post in the big picture quite clearly.
Only because Weijing sought prestige, his command had some units from the regular Cathayan Army. Most of his forces were militia and the sole reason he had access to four Feng Huang Corvettes from the Spacefleet was Shanxi´s position in space.
He was not dissatisfied, he actually liked Shanxi and his work, even if sometimes it was boring as hell in this part of Space. And who knew, Shanxi might have been a better choice by Cathay than many thought. Just a few months ago, the scouts and prospectors found a Space Station not of Old One Origin in the Kuiper Belt analogue of the system.
Temple of Shallya, Altdorf
There is a crypt below the temple that holds the remains of some of the Cult's most revered members. They lie on stone biers in the open, as their bodies do not degrade, such is the promise of the goddess they served. They provide a last service for their order and goddess by serving as inspiration for new members. They show the peace at the end of a life given to long, faithful service. Their robes vary, from the simple robes of Sisters to the more contentious garb of Mothers, as resting in this place is not earned by rank. The peace the crypt provides to the living is much asked for by the members of the Order working above them these days.
It is not as if new plagues ravage the land or famine results in requests for the order to provide help and solace. With the new therapies and Nanites came healing and prevention of the many conditions that used to plague mankind. Even the common cold is rare these days, to the point where immune systems have to be carefully adjusted not to run rampant due to a lack of targets. There are next to no orphans, with pregnancies being planned events, few diseases and violence to take the parents away before their time. Even mental illnesses are on the wane now that increased knowledge about neurotransmitters and various other messengers helps keep people centred on who they are.
All of that was most welcome to the goddess and those who served her. At the same time it meant that the Order had to search for new tasks.
So what was the Order of Shallya to do in a world where "being sick" was quickly becoming a thing of the past. That was the topic of much debate. Some members were all for extending Shallya's grace to countries where they had traditionally been absent, and to races other than human. Kuresh still knew hunger and several rampant diseases plagued the Naga. They had finally gained their freedom after fighting a long asymmetrical war against the Cathayan and Nipponese occupiers. And while they had not won a single, large-scale engagement they had driven up the costs up to the point where both realms had withdrawn in disgust. Now that they had their country back the Snakemen had a hard time keeping it a going concern, with various warlords battling for dominance. Whether they or other indigenous people would accept Shallya's help was still to be seen.
There were lots of people in the Old World who struggled with the side-effects or the defects of the various enhancements and modifications they had inflicted on themselves. Be it an enhanced metabolism that allowed eating many cheeseburgers and a six-pack stomach at the same time or a direct connection to the noosphere, these mods could lead to long-term problems of body and mind. There was an acrimonious debate whether Shallya was in favor of looking after people who had spent far too long in virtual worlds. Many needed help to find their way back into a comparatively mundane existence.
New tasks, new methods, a new path: it meant that Shallya's people were looking inwards more than ever before. Quite a few went to the crypt when they needed a reminder of the Order's past and the peace that awaited them.
One of the many niches was different from the others, it held not one body, but two of them.
Ralf Winkler, the medic who had stumbled into Shallya's service had asked to be laid to rest together with his wife. As she had served as an aide to the Five for so many years that had been granted. Both lie on the same bier, hand in hand.
It is always difficult to read the facial expression of the dead, but the medic seems to show the smile of a job well done and finished.
Northern slope of Mount Kuan Ti, Naggaroth, 2732 IC
The bullet had been fired three seconds ago. Gravity pulled it downwards, gusty winds shoved it to the left, and its spin-stabilization made it drift to the right. As it had been fired by a positively ancient weapon using smokeless powder it had started its flight at a measly 950 meters per second. Air resistance had slowed it considerably ever since it had passed the rifle's muzzle. It still retained enough energy to cleanly pierce the chamois buck's skin behind its shoulder with ease. A steel ball at its tip was pressed deeply into a channel down the middle of the bullet, opening its sides along preformed lines. The bullet resembled an opening flower with razor-sharp petals that tore all tissue in its path and left destruction in its wake. It hit the buck's heart a bit high and to the left, destroying the organ and killing the animal instantly. The buck dropped without jumping or any other movement, it just fell in the place it had last grazed.
The buck was watched through a scope on the other side of a ravine, more than a mile from the carcass. Wolfgang Böhler smiled, it had been the perfect shot at a target he had stalked for quite a while. The lock of the Mauser he had taken the shot with had been at the Battle of Papenburg, the other parts faithful replicas of those they had replaced. Having taken the shot without a range finder and an AI-powered fire control system was quite the achievement, there were few on the Warhammer World who could do the same.
Wolfgang Böhler rested the rifle on the tarp before him and allowed himself a moment of being content and at rest. It felt good, the sun warmed his stiff limbs and he could take a small break before getting up and going for the buck. That was not running away at any rate.
The only thing that was off was that it started getting dark already, sunset should be many hours away. Wolfgang Böhler, former sniper, Landwehr soldier, mercenary General and agent of Section 31 could not bother himself to open the clock function of his headware. Resting in the sun felt good, even when it was getting very, very dark already.
Malekith, the Witch King, had forced Wolfgang Böhler to undergo a Ritual of Blood long ago. The Ritual had nearly broken his mind and given him terrible memories that came up every day. It had prolonged his life by 200 years, and these had just passed without the ritual being renewed. Böhler's aides were alarmed about the stopped heart by the sniper's internal systems. When they reached the body it was obviously too late for CPR or anything else, but for a farewell.
Ungdrin Ankor, Underway close to Karaz-a-Karak
Makrod Ironbeard went around the curve in something that resembled a power slide in a six-wheeled vehicle. He was mashed against the left side of his seat by considerable G-Forces, even his lustrous beard could hardly hide his grin. There was a thunk that went through his armored car when the suspension on the right side took up weight again. Makrod could not have taken the bend any faster without upending his vehicle. There was a long straight before him, he could use the engine for all that it was worth. Mashing the pedal past two indents made things rather intense.
The rules of the race said the engine had to be a piston engine with very few layouts allowed. No Dawi in his right mind would go for anything but a V-8, which allowed for lots of displacement, when it had to have a pushrod valvetrain that restricted RPM. The accessories were less regulated though, and meshing the pedal down all the way activated them. A water-methanol mixture was sprayed into manifold that conducted the highly compressed air that was forced into the cylinders. It cooled the roaring inferno inside them to the point where even more pressure could be applied. A second tank held nitrox oxide, cooling even more and adding more oxygen into the mix, allowing even more fuel to be burned efficiently. Several parts on Makrod's engine glowed an evem, bright orange and long flames came from the two exhaust pipes. The tunnel walls reflected the engine's roar and would have overwhelmed even the Dawi's hearing had he not worn headphones that provided both information and protection.
His rear mirror showed that he was not alone on this stretch of the Underways, a competitor tried to overtake him. He hardly had time to identify the racer, just saw that it was much smaller than his armored car. Ha, none of these would best him so close to the finish line. He took the next curve sliding his vehicle at an angle that made the car block most of the tunnel, so that nobody could overtake him.
Unless one was crazy enough to use the tunnel's walls to drive. The gentle slope that the honored ancients had chiseled from the rock allowed the buggy to climb the wall and its immense speed held it there as if glued. The small car actually managed to pass Makrod before the curve ended and it had to get down from its vertical position. It seemed mostly to be a framework with four huge wheels and a multi-tube rocket launcher on top. Its driver was hunched deeply in his seat, visible through the limited armor plate and frame. It was much, much lighter than Ironbeard's six-wheeled monster, but it was only allowed a dinky six-cylinder air-cooled engine of less than three liters displacement. What had they done to that thing to allow for such speeds?
Makrod pressed the pedal down all the way again while turning a wheel that he would normally leave alone for good reasons. He had just closed the waste gate of his turbochargers, increasing the pressure above the one in his tires. The power generated by his V-8 threatened to overwhelm even the four driven wheels in the back, leaving black stripes on the floor at 150 kph. And still, that dinky little buggy before him accelerated as well. Parts of the engine where visible in the back and they literally glowed in the dark. Ironbeard touched the 20-mm autocannon's controls for a second, reminding himself they were for the animatronic Trolls only.
He managed to pull side by side with the buggy screaming down the final straight to the finish. It was neck to neck and by the end Ironbeard won by the length of his bumper and little else. He was totally exhausted when he exited his armored car. The other driver looked shot as well when he pulled the googles and the leather cap from his furry head.
Dawi and Skaven look at each other over a chasm of thousands of years of bitter strife. Makrod Ironbeard knew them well enough, what Dawi couldn't. And the winners of the race would be streamed to many devices, so whatever he did would be seen by many Dawi, including his clan. At the same time he could not deny that the Skaven before him had heart, seriously so. He still held back a bit with the fistbump, that furry hand did not look like it could take a full Dawi one.
Praag, Kislev, same time
The man sitting on the bench was of indeterminate but probably middle age, had a full shock of full mousy-brown hair, had a slight paunch, and wore clean, but unremarkable clothes. He tore small pieces of bread from a stale loaf and threw them to the birds that would pick them up. An uninteresting man doing uninteresting things, immediately forgotten by the busy passers-by who enjoyed the sunshine.
The man formerly known as Ottokar Proktor could not care less for the birds and knew fully well that bread was not what one was to feed them. It was part of his camouflage, nothing but.
Somebody had to have an eye on the new government of Kiev, and given that a few words to the wise in person might be needed as well it was him. He was pretty sure that the Army of Light and Kislev's Cyber-Soviet would come to blows sooner or later. While both organizations were not that close to his heart, this had the potential to weaken the noose around the Chaos Gate. And that would certainly not do. Ottokar's people were still trying to figure the best way to keep the fortifications in the Army of Light's hands while allowing for Kislevian sovereignty.
Given that the targets of his lone vigil were nowhere to be seen his mind started to wander to the place it had gone for so many, many times. The Rabbi would had brought him back had told him to visit the next days so they could have a talk about his future. And when he had gone that guy told him to come again next morning, he was about to have supper with his friends. Just that the next morning that Rabbi had been arrested and was about to be crucified, not the best time for a chat. He had seen him again from afar, hanging between two others, but the Rabbi could hardly speak then. So ever since that evening the man who had been known as Ottokar Proktor for a while wandered the world and wondered how this would work out in the end.
He could hardly influence it, but he could use the years he had been given to cultivate contacts, to amass information and to push the short-lived and -sighted around him to be a bit saner.
Dorotheenstädtischer Friedhof/Berlin Cemetery, 2732 IC
Sophie Wagenstein-Vos
Beloved Mother, Grandmother and Wife
Chronicler of her times
The tombstone was starting to fade, the gold leeched out of the grooves that made up the lettering. The stone was simple, but it was in good company. A lot of famous journalists and writers who had lived and died in Berlin lay close to her. She would do so for a long time, the city had recognized her as one of its greats and would keep the grave "for all time".
There was a patch of well-maintained grass before the grave, and a single red rose. Joakim Vos saw neither the flower he had just placed there, he saw the good times he had with his wife. She had received the Nanites the same day as he had, and she had taken to them well. A healthy life lived to 154 years might be nothing special these days, but Sophie had been borne without the medical care that was considered minimum standard these days.
It was not that the former Reiksbund Marine had received better care, but his was a sword that kept him alive by extracting energies from the enemies they killed. Thankfully the sword was silent for now, but Joakim knew it would call him soon enough. He silently bid farewell while his fists clenched till the knuckles were white. And then he straightened himself and made his way from the cemetery. He had never shirked his duties, he would not do so now.
He found Gotrek exactly where he had left him, in the air car's shotgun seat. The once stout Dawi had fallen asleep again, a faint trace of drool dropping from the corner of his mouth. It was not just the relaxation of sleep that caused the once-mighty muscles to droop, it was so much more.
The former Slayer had been connected to Tzeentch ever since the Battle of the Cave, where he had slain the Shaman destined to bring about another Chaos Gate and died. Tzeentch had done his level best to kill Gotrek, then protected him as best as he could and finally lured him to Earth. None of that had killed the connection between the two and Gotrek appeared back on the Warhammer World when Lord Kroak had tried to kill him to get to the Changer of Ways.
Tzeentch had protected the Dawi again and worked on influencing the former Slayer. He tried that with a Dawi considered stubborn and strong-willed even for his race, supported by the remains of a god that rested in Gotrek's axe. So for two centuries a battle had been waged inside the Dawi's body and mind. That battle had inflicted the damage that all battles do to the fields where they take place, leaving desolation in its wake.
Still Tzeentch kept a body alive that should have allowed the mind in it to join its ancestors so long ago. Even the indomitable mind was slowly giving way to the Changer of Ways' corrosive efforts. Felix Jaeger, who had accompanied Gotrek for so long had gone ahead and asked Joakim to look after his companion before passing away.
Stormbringer, the being that posed as a sword on Joakim's back, could keep the Chaos God at bay, but only for so long and only for the two of them. Joakim had to fight something like a running battle against people who wanted to take care of the former Slayer one way or another for years now. Things were not getting any easier and a court was about to rule that he was not qualified for the job. The institution that wanted to take custody had no connections to Tzeentch that Joakim could prove, but he was very wary of their motives.
The courts were not a battlefield Joakim was proficient on and so it was time to change the venue. Checking the charge on his Lilium again he had more than enough range to make it to Middenheim. There would probably still be enough left to make it to a charging station after that, but Vos could care less.
Zehntenscheune Landstuhl, 2732 IC
Unlike other "Arrivals", meaning the Earthers having lived the Weltensprung personally, like Sophie Wagenstein-Vos, for Günther Koch, his wife and three of his children the early medical nanites they had received were just the topping for good health and a longer life.
Necromantic powers could do much more here than the early nanites were able to and so Günther was celebrating his 250th birthday in a smaller round. There had been an official celebration the day before, but now it was just his inner circle. Even if this smaller grouping was comparatively large given the timespan lived, so Günther had rented the Zehntenscheune, the former tithe barn of his city for the celebration.
His wife, six children, 17 Grandchildren, several Great-Grandchildren and other family members alone said much about how many people even the "smaller" celebration counted. Then there were close friends like the Ruhdorfer and Stellwagen families, from work and his time in the military, well, he still served as one of the highest-ranking officers.
Not a few of these friends, colleagues and acquaintances were or had become quite widely known people over time. No less than three Elector Counts, nine Generals, a dozen High Scholars and Magisters, 6 ranking officials, two former chancellors among them and seven Undead were just the top cream of these VIPs.
Günther, who had never been a person for seeking out the limelight, was extremely glad that this birthday party could be as small and intimate as it was under the circumstances.
"Alles Liebe zum Geburtstag, Papa!" (All Love for your birthday, Dad!), then his eldest daughter kissed and hugged him hard.
It was still something to wrap your head around, how old and in what condition a person could now become by various means. Two days earlier Günther had hugged and kissed his Eldest congratulating her to her 199th birthday!
But this also reminded him of the people who were not here for his and his daughter's birthdays and never would be again. While it was one of humankinds' greatest dreams to become long lived or near immortal, even when this was achieved a while ago, it was a task.
Being able to live to a healthy two hundred years and normally more these days even without necromantic powers, many humans found out that they had to find reasons to live, to go on.
Some who could not cope or believed, rightly or wrongly, that they had reached and achieved in life what they wanted, began to start doing dangerous, even suicidal, hobbies. Others literally killed themselves or signed on for highly dangerous expeditions and military operations.
It was not something that was constant the researchers, among them Günther himself, found out. Such thoughts and actions came in intervals. One of the first points such problematic introspection could popup was around your 150th birthday and came back usually in half- and full century "steps".
Not all of those people Günther had wished to see and celebrate with on his 250th birthday had made it. A couple of those simply had not wished to continue on when their early phase medical nanites gave out, seeing it as a sign it was time to go. Others had not found reasons to live and went into the Great Beyond by various means.
So while Günther was a happy man with a multitude of reasons to go on, he did not forget his friends and loved ones who were not here. Shortly before midnight, he smashed a bottle of fine wine against the sandstone wall of the Zehntenscheune, libations for the Dead. Remembering them, but going on with his life.
RSS Roald Amundsen, Deep Space, 2.7 light years from Kreuzung system
The fusion torch at the far end of the spacecraft had stopped burning years ago, the lingering radiation it had spewed all over the Amundsen was still easily detectable and actually dangerous. The collision of all manners of particles with her plasma shield and frontal armor caused more radiation still. What open spaces were inside were filled with helium at considerably below freezing.
It was a good thing that there was no living thing on board the explorer. The crew lay on simple, stainless steel biers, unmoving, breathing, drinking and eating nothing. They were clad in silvery suits that reduced the radiation around them markedly. Their bodies were still exposed to the radiation of the decay of the materials that made up their own bodies, with nothing to compensate the damage. They were still none the worse for the wear. Their bodies were skeletons, reinforced with high-tech materials, enhanced with actuators and electronics.
The crew was neither alive nor dead, instead being creatures of the limbo in between states. Most of them hailed from Khemri, all of them were of the Undead. All of them driven by an unending thirst for knowledge and seeing new sights they had volunteered for this and passed many gruelling tests.
Roald Amundsen was crewed by 127 Undead and three AIs.
They were on their way to a star system called Kanaan, a place where telescopes and probes had indicated a right-sized planet in the habitable zone. They would use their knowledge and the many tons of Nanites on board to build a new Star Gate.
One of the biers was a bit separate from the others, as befitted the ship's captain.
Asfohk the Devoted was no longer gazing at the far stars, he was flying to them.
Deep inside the Chaos Desert/The Warp
The Husk was a creature of three realms and yet belonged to none. Once it had been mighty, both in the real and beyond the veil. Then it had been far too close to a cataclysm that burned away so much of its body, its self, and its soul that so little remained. And still, it would neither fit in the physical world nor the parts of the realm of the Warp where the dead go. It had lost so much, longed for the parts burned away, but was no longer even able to name what it was looking for. So the husk wandered in a direction that provided a little sustenance to fit its meagre needs, always looking for something it would not recognize when it would see it.
The husk had left the icy tundra on which it had fought for so long and entered the desert around the Northern Chaos Gate. It found next to no denizens there and as it had nothing to lose, as it had so little substance it was ignored or not even noticed by the few still residing there. It saw the battles the Chaos Warriors fought over empty terrain, it saw nomads leave the desert never to return. And while it wandered it saw fewer and fewer beings. It lacked both the knowledge and the ability to parse it, the husk would not know about the fortifications that hemmed the Chaos Desert in. It did not see the ones which were denied entry. Nor did it witness that those who wanted to devastate the realms outside came to fiery ends at the wrong end of artillery fire missions and machine gun salvos. The husk could not know about the end of the endless famines and plagues that had pushed so many away from their homelands into the Chaos Desert before.
Finding nothing to satisfy its meagre urgings the husk had trekked deeper and deeper into the desert, to the point where it left the physical world behind. It had witnessed such outlandish wonders the husk was ill equipped to appreciate. Many sights were so different that it would have been unable to parse them even when it had his full mental faculties available. As it was now it just saw, but did not understand, did not question, but only searched for something it did not know.
It could certainly not say how long it had been wandering and time had little meaning where the husk was.
It reached an area that was very, very different from the deserts of multi-coloured sands and mobile rocks. There was vegetation, or there had been. Strangely deformed plants had grown in crooked shapes, viscous fluids had bled on a floor covered in mold and dried. The plants were all shades of gray, brown and black, the husk could not find a single green one that was still alive. Whatever this place had been, now it was suffering a draught of whatever had nourished it. Stalks that had stood tall despite cancerous growths had withered and cracked, poisonous leaves would dissolve into dust when one just touched them. Vile fruits had fallen to a barren ground that would not provide sustenance to their diseased seeds, dried mold covered them like a funeral shroud.
The husk made for the depths of this dead garden, finally hearing something breaking through the rotting vegetation, leaving even greater desolation in its wake. Finally it saw the source of those sounds, a giant creature that pushed through the dead vegetation. It moved on all fours, even when the front limbs seemed too short for this mode of movement. Vast slabs of loose skin hung from the creature's sides, touching the ground at times. Sores either wept semiliquid pus or had scabbed over long ago. Eye sockets gaped empty at many places and bones pierced the dried hide in several places.
The Husk could not parse any of it, but for seeing a giant, sick dumb creature. Even when he had been Barak ar Varbadaudassoda, famed Chaos Warlord, he would not have seen that Nurgle was barely sustained by the illnesses and epidemics that befell animals and plants. Being nurtured by creatures barely aware of their existence for so long had taken a great toll on the Grandfather, both in body and mind. So a great, mindless beast was wandering aimlessly through the withered Garden of Nurgle, unable to recognize its own creation.
Strike Cruiser/Drone carrier RSS Andrea Hermanns, orbit around Warhammer World 2733 IC
Oberst Henrik Alpers went through the news in the most classic of places, the WC. That did not mean he took a lot of paper with him, he unfolded one in his mind and it was displayed just before his eyes. The articles were short and to the point, but contained lots of links to all sorts of media that would show more context. They were oh so useful and so dangerous at the same time. One of the first things kids learned these days was limiting themselves in following these links, one could get lost in the Noosphere rather easily.
The main story of today and the one that would directly influence him and his command was predictably the renaming of the alliance he served. The Reiksbund now contained members from 17 planets, 252 smaller orbital bodies and O'Neil stations and 42 organizations residing in the Noosphere. Its citizens numbered in the billions from six races and two flavors of AIs. Naming the alliance after a river that just ran through two member states and one race was no longer seen as justified. It had been an issue in the senate and the accredited forums, several tribunes had made or destroyed their standing on it. So from 3 Kaldezeit 2723 the Reiksbund would be renamed the Bund, the Federation, an alliance that would take over more functions held by the member states at that time.
So tomorrow Henrik would send a couple of maintenance drones outside the hull and change the RSS to BRS Andrea Hermanns and have as much of a party as duty permitted. The painting and resetting the ID Code were important, there were only very few Chancellor-Class ships, failing to update might get noticed by the public. But for today he….
The virtual newspaper before his eyes vanished and was replaced by a red blinking icon while the sound of a klaxon was directly transmitted into his nerves. He finished his business as quickly as possible and ran to his duty station while his overalls reconfigured themselves into a space suit. He tried to digest the situation report while running, wondering what could have triggered a "Set Condition One" so urgently. It was the nature of space combat that surprises were very rare, and Condition One specifically did not include mechanical mishaps.
A figure was projected into his optical nerves, translucent so that he would not keep Alpers from perceiving his physical surroundings. Nathan was the AI's chosen avatar and his late grandfather's download had been the basis of the Great Mind's personality. Henrik had never seen his grandfather in flying gear that old fashioned, but maybe he had used them in his Storch-flying days. The avatar used speech as a medium to display the situation, much better given that he ran down a corridor.
"We detect an energy spike of Q- and X-Band Warp pseudo-particles, plus a grav wave, both 1100 klicks ahead of us in orbit. A warp breech into the real is imminent within the next two minutes. XO Ethellorne has already taken the drones X-2 to X-15 from standby and is charging the spinal mount. Drone X-2 is manoeuvring closer to the potential breech and will activate its sensors. Hermanns' sensors will remain passive-only till further orders. Anti-Munitions-Systems are active and the Magical Weapons Officer is on her way to the sanctum."
By the time the AI had ended Henrik was strapping himself into his command chair. There was a sensation like an ice pick caressing his neck before the fiber-optic made contact with the socket in his neck. There were lines more perceived by their afterimage than really seen as they were gone so fast and then the bridge before him disappeared. Instead he floated in the blackness of space, surrounded by the cold, unblinking stars and enough firepower to sear worlds. Wherever he looked he just knew what he was looking at, be it space station, deadly drone or sensor platform. And before his ship something poured more and more eldritch energies into a tiny bit of space, pulling at the very fabric of space-time.
By now he did not need the augmented sensors to perceive the anomaly, there was a glowing ball composed of matter that should not exist in the real and two violet jets that emerged from the poles. Alpers perceived a staggering amount of firepower being made available to his ship and wondered if this was enough. Rifts from the warp into the real were not that rare events and the beings that emerged from them reacted well enough to the appropriate weapons. Yet, this was the first recorded breech in space and some of the sensor readings were way off.
And then the ball and the jets were gone in a flash of light that could probably be seen on the world below. Their place was taken by something huge and wondrous. Looking like a giant snowflake an object hung there in space, gleaming white and silver. Hermann's sensors and AI could neither make heads nor tails out of it, as nothing about it matched their databases.
A request for accepting transmission appeared in Henrik's peripheral view. Before he could make a decision whether to accept that connection was made and a picture of an old man with a huge white beard formed itself.
The voice was a deep baritone with a slight echo in the background.
"Greetings Oberst Henrik Alpers. I am Senior Researcher Plog and we urgently need to talk."
Mountain range 120 kilometers from Middenheim, Empire
Joakim's aircar was a top-of-the-line model, with lots of power and a top-notch fly-by wire control system. The craft's computer was a small step from an AI and Joakim a good pilot in his own right. Still both had to work their way through the gusts of a unexpected thunderstorm that chased them for the last half hour. It was just the last of the many coincidences that tried to stop that trip. Joakim still had enough favors to call in to push most of them away. The last man-made ones disappeared when he entered Ulrik's realm. There was an autonomous zone claimed by the war god's followers as theirs.
And that zone's administration had just told the Empire's air patrol that they were not welcome in Ulrik's realm unless they showed a real warrant for the suspected smuggling. Said patrol had been rather persistent, but had been unable to present any official authorization. They had finally ceased the pursuit when they were lit up by targeting systems. Interestingly enough the Empire would later not find any record of the pursuit mission of a suspected weapons smuggler.
Joakim managed to land his Lilium in a small clearing half way up a mountainside. He had to half-support, half-carry Gotrek up the path that led to the entrance of a cave. Both were very happy when they finally reached its protection. They were greeted by monsters.
Both were human-sized, but the bigger of them had more gray hair than a human should and the hands resembled claws. The woman looked rather normal, an attractive red-head in the prime of her years, until she opened her mouth in a welcoming smile.
The teeth she revealed were definitely not human, they were the ones of an apex predator that fed on them. Long practice allowed Ulrika to speak without a lisp. Her smile was as warm and alarming as ever.
"Joakim, Gotrek, welcome to our humble abode. Is it time already?"
The former Slayer wheezed while he tried to stand straighter.
"Thanks for taking us in, especially in my state. And yes, it is time to end this indeed. Are you sure this place is warded well enough, we are talking about the Changer of Ways?"
Ulrich Stoiber's voice was a deep rumble bordering on a growl.
"This is Ulrik's place, no one is allowed to enter who is not invited, neither in the real nor in the Empyrean. Tzeentch will have to wait, or his minions can try to force their way through this entrance.
His demons will not be able to materialize close to this mountain, and if they try to trek here through the forest they'll show up on some magic detector and others can deal with them.
The only ones who have a chance are mortals who are not that far under Tzeentch's control that they show up on the scanners and the tests. And they would have to contend with the Children of Ulrik."
Gotrek's eyebrows rose a bit
"The Children?"
"Have a look at me Gotrek, you can see that I have moved further along the path to a were-creature since we last met. And that is with full initiation into the Cult of Ulrik and Nanites. If the War God gets into you with no help from the Cult, then the change is deeper and affects the mind much more. Many of these are no longer fit to live in oh-so-civilized society and they are one of the main reasons for the autonomous zone.
They live in the forests and slopes of these mountains as best as they can as long as they can. If somebody who reeks of Tzeentch enters these mountains on foot he is in for a fight."
"Me needing protecting by weres, who would have imagined that?"
"Nobody my friend, but we are out of trolls or demons that need your special touch."
Gotrek started to laugh before breaking into a cough that took its time to stop.
"Thanks, but I do not think my protection is worth much these days."
Ulrich Stoiber did not comment, but steadied the former Slayer when he was done coughing.
"Let us bring you to a place where you can rest."
It took both Joakim and Ulrika to guide Gotrek down the tunnel that led deeper into the mountain. They passed friezes and tapestries showing battles long forgotten, their feet touched a ground smoothed by hobnailed sandals, claws, and paratrooper boots. And then they were in a grand chamber. It had been a giant dome once, formed by titanic pressures when the mountain was still partially liquid. Now it was an unadorned, smooth bubble of granite. The floor was inlaid with symbols and writing, some of which seemed to move right through the granite.
Joakim felt a slight resistance when he passed the outer ring of warding, he had to take up Gotrek's full weight when they passed the second one.
"What the fuck…"
The growl from Ulrich was even deeper than before and showed more than a little sorrow.
"Your sword told you that Gotrek was connected to Tzeentch, the Ar-Ulrik of Middenheim saw it in the flames and at least two Tzeentch cultists said so when they tried to infiltrate this mountain. The god kept Gotrek alive as best as he could, even with that axe and all trying to prevent that. In here the Changer of Ways has no entrance, so our old friend is finally allowed to die. Gotrek dying in peace, who would have thought it, and he will make his greatest kill doing so. Help me bring him to that slab please, there we can lay him to rest."
Joakim was strong for a human, Ulrich past human limitations for quite some time now. They still had their work cut out carrying the former Slayer to a huge granite slab that was in the middle of the circle. Gotrek was breathing deeply and quickly by this time, trying to supply oxygen to his once great body even when his heart was failing. Ulrich managed to cross his arms over his chest and placed the axe in the Slayer's hands. The cavern was deathly silent, but for Gotrek's laborious breathing.
Joakim pressed a hand on the Slayer's shoulder when he saw Ulrich straighten up and press a fur-covered hand against his ear.
"Ulrika just called, there are beings that move quickly through the forest, and they are coming here. Say goodbye to Gotrek and then go to the niche 200 meters up the corridor, I left some kit for you. Take what you like, than join us at the entrance. I think we will have visitors sooner rather than later. Would be a shame not to greet them properly."
"Will do, be with you in a moment."
Stoiber moved off in a fast, disturbingly silent loping run. Joakim Vos turned back to the Slayer and saw the gradual slackening of Dawi features. He knew that this was the best end Gotrek could hope for in his current state, he knew it was the end of a restless struggle and endless pain. And still it hurt, deeply to the bone.
Joakim would have liked to stay with the former Slayer till the end, few beings want to die alone. But if he did not defend this place Gotrek would not just simply die, he would probably be reborn in the Changer of Way's image. And that was not about to happen. Gripping the shoulder one more time he made his way up the very tunnel he had come down. He found the niche easily enough and what he found there was enough to pull him from his fugue.
Where the heck had Ulrich pulled an Mk 4 Power Armor from? They had been state-of-the-art for terrestrial operations a few years after he had returned from the Kreuzung system. Very bulky by modern standards and with energy storage for a meager 24 hours it was many times better than the armored vest he currently wore. And the laser-railgun combo would pierce nearly anything not moving on tracks or a countergrav field.
Donning the armor alone was not that easy, but there were few beings who had more practice than Joakim Vos. He took a minute to check the systems and then ran up the slope at a pace he could never have achieved without the armor.
He emerged in time to see fire rain from the sky.
Columns of light emerged through the rapidly shifting cloud cover and incinerated swathes of forest in several places over a dozen kilometers away. Joakim could feel the heat on his face and be in awe of the destruction that consumed acres of wood each time it struck.
He saw Ulrika watch something on a pad and nod approvingly.
"Any clue on what's happening over there?"
Ulrika's grin had next to no humor in it, but a great deal of satisfaction.
"Looks like the great birdy became really, really nervous. There was a huge warp rift at Forlorn Peak a few minutes ago and every magic detector in the Old World went bonkers. Lots of Lords of Change and other critters try to enter. Seems the Orbital Guard was on the ball, there is a weapons platform and an effing strike cruiser hammering in on them. I don't think any of Tzeentch's lovelies will make it. How is Gotrek?"
"When I left him he entered Cheyne-Stokes breathing, the pauses were increasing already. He is stubborn, but half an hour at most."
Ulrich Stoiber turned his face towards the dark forest before them.
"I do not think the Orbital Guard will get all the small critters, that is our job. We will give Gotrek the time he needs."
Joakim Vos closed the visor, the old armor would not transmit the night vision directly to his optical nerve.
"Then let's kill a god, shall we?"
Ende for now