It is often said that in the grim darkness of the far future there can be only war. The battle for Vomia Prime's hive spire was no different, it was a long and bloody affair.
Embroiled in all consuming revolt and civil unrest, the singular Human hive city perched upon the remote Imperial enclave stood as a monolith sprouting up from the planet's war torn surface. Lit by the thousands of uncontrollable fires raging along it's flanks the central towering spire, the capitol hive city of the planet, was illuminated in an ominous blood orange glow. The ferrocrete and limestone façade of each hab-block twisted and writhed as inhuman shadows flickered along the gothic architecture. Toxic fumes from sabotaged manufactorums and fuel depots destroyed by the retreating enemy continuously spilled into the air with pitch black smoke, leaving a rancid oily acrylic taste to each breath and a red tinge to the evening sky. Even at this altitude, up at the top of the highest point on the planet in Vomia's singe capital hive city the haze and noise of battle was overpowering. A feat, considering the hive spire reached nearly into the Void of space.
Continuous thunderous booms of artillery shells could be heard for miles around as high explosive rounds fired from antiquated cannons smashed into fortified apartment complexes, civic structures, and assembly plants alike, dotting the exterior of the hive structure in rippling explosions. The detonations of the heavy munitions synchronized well with the staccato of much lighter bolter fire in the criss-crossing narrow winding streets. The tempo of the rumbling explosive barrages also paired up with the ionizing crack of las rifle fusillades from line formation of soldiers in colourful garbs. Blistering red hot laser fire scythed down rows of men as another volley fire of las locks came from a square formation of soldiers, punching through cloth and bone with ease. The dying men's screams only further adding to the constant never ending din suffocating the air. The PDF gardes marched forwards through the onslaught, engaging with the enemy mercenary forces and renegade turncoats alike with determined zeal. Together the choruses of their weapons and detonations blended together into a symphony of war; their songs of valorous bayonet charges and brutal close combat adding to the cacophony of the grand battle currently engulfing the rest of the planet.
Loyal servants to the Golden Throne, those that also served the Vomia Royal house who stayed pious to the Imperial Creed, had fought back against the invading pillagers. By bayonet and las lock they'd clashed with the mercenaries under the control of the vile traitorous nobles. Untold millions perished in the ensuing chaos of the violent coup d'état; their lives consigned to a brutal death by the usurper's unjust bid for power. Families and innocent civilians were forced to flee their homes as the fighting spread from hab-block to hab-block, from tight knit ferrocrete alleyways to parks and courtyards. Every able bodied man, woman, and even child was in some way fighting tooth and nail for survival inside the crumbling Hive. They joined together in mobs, erecting palisades and gathered their tools as makeshift weapons by which to repel any interloping foreign mercenary. The destruction of their homes only further fueling the fever by which the people rallied behind. They clamored for vengeance and justice to be brought upon the usurper's forces. Preachers led their congregations in sermons, chanting hymns to the blessed Emperor, praying for both strength and victory as they rose up against tyrannical actions of the diabolical traitors.
But even so... The enemy was strong. Well armed and paid handsomely for their services. The sellsword companies under the command of the Usurper fought back viciously, turning the tide against the Loyalists despite their zeal. Battle after battle the mercenaries utilized modern Imperial Las Rifles and automatic Bolter guns, weapons rarely seen on a planet such as this which had to relied on millennia outdated armaments and technology. Despite having the numerical advantage the Loyalists were soon pushed out of their recent territorial gains.
It was soon deemed that without prompt aid from outside the system it seemed as if the war would soon be lost...
Astropathic calls for aid were sent out by the remaining Loyalists forces, many of which were unfortunately left unheeded or ignored. The rest of the Imperium didn't even know, nor care about the existence of the little backwater bastion of Humanity to begin with, Vomia wasn't really on any Imperium star charts, and thus if it weren't for the occasional star ship passing through many could forget it ever existed. But still, they tried their best to petition for relief.
It wasn't until the Astropaths nearly collapsed from exertion after several days of nonstop efforts did word finally reach back to them from the local commander of their slice of the Ultima Segmentum.
...However to the shock and dismay of many, their civil conflict was deemed too small for the infinite forces of the Astra Militarum, or Emperor's own angels, the Adeptus Astartes, to squash the usurpers on their behalf. To them this seemed like nothing more than the squabbling of some mere Provincials, not a matter for the Imperium at large to deal with. There were far too many fronts to bolster, and there was none that could be spared for a peacekeeping force to be tasked with bringing stability to a small tiny spec of the Imperium. In essence, they were deemed tactically insignificant by the High Lords of Terra and left alone.
Instead, the local PDF were the only ones left to sort the mess out... A task the relatively small and under-equipped force of locally conscripted soldiers were now struggling to handle.
Many fell into despair at the news of being abandoned so, cursing the High Lords for not sparing them any reinforcements at all. Meanwhile, the traitor's forces took the initiative and seized most of the Hive spire for themselves. Even more suffering followed by the Fat Tyrant's seize of power. It was almost all over for the Loyalists...
They needed someone who could rise up against the tide and return order and stability to the Imperial planet. A beacon in this hopeless darkness. A savior. A hero.
Indeed, one such person would not give in so easily to the seemingly unstoppable foe and unwinnable odds. She raged and fought harder than ever before as the light of hope began to grow dim. Her decisive actions swung the tide in many battles, her overwhelming strength and piety proving more than a match for a hundred men or more! Decisive victory after victory the hero led her people to where they were now, and through her herculean efforts the final victory was upon them!
As it turns out Vomia didn't need to look elsewhere to find it's "Angels" of salvation. They had one amongst them all along.
A lone figure emerged from amongst the smoky shadows, approaching a gathering of mercenaries setting up defenses in the gardens by the foot of the Royal quarters. These men were all garbed in the black and red uniform of the Usurper and his cronies. They stood before the final entrance to the Upper Spire, caught midway through barricading the doorway and erecting defenses made from materials scrounged nearby. Their task halted, they each beheld the one responsible for their final defeat. "It's the Princess!" One such henchman shouted, dropping the crate he'd been carrying, scurrying to retrieve his autogun from it's sling. Everyone else seemed to break from their stunned stupor and in turn raised their rifles at the small figure, their confused expressions indicating that they'd expected this to be a much grander fight than this; if the bogyman hunting them down was this pint sized fighter then it'd be an easy fight indeed! Their opponent was nothing more than a little girl after all!
Oh, how they were soon mistaken.
With a mighty kick against the ground the Princess rocketed forwards at breakneck speed, knocking up a thick cloud of dust that trailed behind in her wake. The speed at which the lone girl had rushed towards their line left the marauding men no chance to land a hit with their weapons, try as they might. Several did test their luck at nabbing a snapshot on the small deadly figure but their shots went wild, hitting their allies instead in the crossfire. Silver coated power armor crashed into the gathered men with the force of a wrecking ball, sending bodies flying in every which direction. The grown men screamed in shock and pain at the sudden blitz into their ranks, she'd knocked over half a dozen with but a single charge!
With her weapon raised in hand the little warrior set to work demolishing men twice her size with ease, toppling them down by sheer force of her armored fists or by the end of her glistening weapon, one that seemed longer than she was herself yet she'd wielded with no issue. The small frame she possessed had a surprising hidden strength that the little hero utilized with practiced ease. To onlookers, it almost seemed as if the silver figure was dancing amongst the formation of the enemy, sending bodies flying with a twirl and each step matching the beat of the battle around her.
Higher up the steps to the giant doors a team of gunners had finally managed to finish setting up their heavy bolter, the automatic gun's large barrel tracking the swift movements of the silver haired Hero. The gun let loose a stream of deafening thuds as it poured explosive bolter shells down the marble steps, scything through a row of their own comrades in the chance of taking down their tenacious enemy. The shells detonated along the ground, but none managed to hit their intended target. With a mighty bound the silver Hero had leaped over the rain of death, landing on top of the emplaced gun with a crash. The bolter went silent as the men aiming it were swiftly dispatched. Still, a few survived the onslaught, and they too charged up the steps to meet the foe, and their doom.
Moments later, once the dance had come to a final flourish it was only the girl left standing in a sea of slain enemies.
She was soon met with the force that had been trailing behind her up the spire, they'd struggled to keep up with the Princesses' rapid advance, but soon the courtyard was full of Blue and White uniforms. The armoured warrior was now dwarfed by the men under her command, she stood tiny amongst the newly gathered crowd of PDF Gardes. Despite her diminutive size however she was easy to spot beneath the crowd, after all her radiance shined brighter than any other! (besides the Emperor of course).
Olivia Vomia, proper heir to the throne of Vomia Prime, stood gallantly in her suit of gilded silver power armor. A cape of royal purple velvet rippling in the wind behind her. Her locks of long silver hair blowing as well in the breeze, like strands of glowing sunlight.
Inside her blazing amethyst eyes there held deep a fiery spirit far greater than any other slimy hive noble, her conviction and grace marking as the true 'noblity' destined to rule this world that shared her family name, unlike the other sniveling sycophants that'd sided with her Uncle. The aureate leafy crown adorning her head shone with the same brilliant light of the Golden Throne of the Emperor on Holy Terra itself, tacitly sanctioning her as the chosen and granting her power in holy reconquest.
"The Arch Traitor is held up in the upper spire, we're nearly there just one more push and we shall have liberated us all!" As her voice shouted out the girl was met with a chorus of cheers and battle cries of the gathered men in blue and white PDF uniforms.
"Onwards men! To victory!" The small figure shouted at the top of her lungs. Together they charged forth through the final breach, past the barricades and into the enemy stronghold. More enemies met them inside, and so the battle continued it's bloody dance of death.
All of this, the wanton murder, theft, and barbarism was set off by the greed and avarice of a singular man; a beast who hungered for not just sweets but power beyond his to own station. And today they would see him vanquished!
Inside the top of said heavenly scraping spire the battle was finally being drawn to it's decisive conclusion. The reverberating clangs of metal on metal acting almost like the gong of a megalithic church steeple, their spirited toll announcing that the end was nigh.
The interior of the spire was a painting of utter destruction; many countless bodies of the recently fallen were stacked up together in massive bleeding heaps along the walls, morbidly some were even used as sandbags to entrench firing positions as either side of the skirmish sought protective cover. Mountains of slain corpses stained the once grand Governor's palace with deep crimson pools of their rancid blood and gore. The cowardly traitors had forever besmirched a once proud and noble place with their dishonourable offal. The remaining ruins of the great throne room were cast about in no better a shape; priceless art pieces were torn asunder, statues toppled like fallen giants, and the better part of the arching vaulted ceiling had caved in under several artillery bombardments. Beyond the broken marble stone walls the smoke filled skies were rife with the sporadic beams of bright green tracer fire from flak cannons and the zipping screeches of PDF fliers. Thunderous booms from below marked the detonation of heavy munitions from the myriad of smaller conflicts dotting the hive city of Vomia Prime.
Caught in the center of this swirling maelstrom of civil war two lone figures were left standing facing one another. Both of the combatants were similarly armored and poised to finish this bloody battle once and for all; one was an ugly fat golden toadlike monster, easily dwarfing an obese grox in the size of it's meaty girth. While the other was the regal form of a silver haired warrior princess who challenged the gluttonous beast for the seat of the throne.
"Today you shall know true fear Princess Olivia! For I shall route your puny resistance and finally take full control over what's rightfully mine!" Krumb rumbled, swinging his meaty club into a brave yet hapless PDF trooper that'd made the regrettable mistake of bayonet charging towards the armored lard cake nearly twice his size. The smaller man's body was flung clear through a nearby window. Krumb set his relative in a blisteringly ugly grin. "For I, the horrible Ogre King shall defeat you and take the crown and planet for myself! Muahaha!" The villain cackled in a melodramatic voice.
"Not if I have anything to say about it you vile fiend!"
The lone girl stepped forwards against the gigantic beast. Valiant and brave, the epitome of the virtues of a heroic figure. The young woman wasn't at all intimidated by the posturing of her vile uncle. Olivia did not back down by his mere threats, for she felt no fear. Her long silver hair blowing in an unseen breeze as she scowled up at the violent beast. "Your madness and hunger for power stops here!"
Olivia aimed her blazing sword of justice, (which for some reason resembled a long golden cudgel more than a holy relic sword), up at her treacherous family member, she would not give up the crown and her people so easily! "Krumb, your days of living have come to an end! Your evil schemes have harmed the planet and her people, and for that you shall die! In the name of the Emperor, and my family, En garde!"
"So be it!" Krumb bleated, charging forth like an enraged bull Grox. A massive battle ensued as the giant's club met Olivia's own. Sparks went flying from the contact, the power behind the strikes were so enormous that they shook the whole Upper Spire! The fate of a whole star system and perhaps even beyond hung in the balance of this momentous duel!
Before either side could land a decisive strike a thunderous booming voice shouted from the heavens, breaking through the sound of battle louder than any cannon.
"Archibald Augustus Godwin Vomia!" A stern yet caring feminine voice reprimanded, "Cease this nonsense this instant!"
The battle came to a screeching halt upon the booming command, like a pic screen set on pause. All the characters of the epic duel were caught in the midst of action, standing frozen where they were. The author of these events however wasn't subject to the interjection, the creative source for all these events felt he had to protest for the sake of the story he was narrating. "B-but mother! It was just getting to the best part!"
"I've told you before! No playing with the cutlery! They are not your toys!" The boy's mother commanded, "Put them back right now or I'll have you taken back to your room!"
"Aww..."
The battlefield immediately faded away like fog in morning sunlight as the illusion was broken and reality took the place of imagination. The ruined throne room turned back once more into the silk white tablecloth and the combatants resumed their functions as mere tableware.
"...Yes mother..." Archie sighed as he followed his mother's instructions. The silver spoon that had been his sister Olivia was placed back where it had came from along with the gold gilded tea pot she'd been fighting to the death. The small boy who'd used said stand-ins for his imaginary (and highly embellished) recreation of the battle his sister had fought only days prior began to sulk.
"That's much better, thank you Archie," the boy's mother eased up on her motherly frown, the usual serine smile soon returned to the woman's lips. "You have such an active imagination my child, but you must always remember to maintain your manners while at the table. It's uncouth to play with your utensils, nor while seated for dinner. You must remember this."
"Yes mother..." Archie repeated in monotone, his enthusiasm for the lesson was clearly not there.
The young Prince was obviously bored out of his wits waiting for his sister, they'd been seated in the dining hall for what seemed like hours now. As Catherine watched her son grow tired of sitting idly by she could sympathize with his plight. She also detested upsetting the boy, but with their father gone it was up to her to set the example as the responsible adult in the family... Her husband had always known what to do in these sorts of situations; he knew how to reprimand someone for their actions while at the same time encouraging better behavior and growth. When he'd scolded Archie in the past he'd worn such a calm and stoic look, yet Catherine could tell he was also proud of their children's immense creativity. He'd only let it slip by carrying but the faintest of smiles on his lips, one only she could ever notice as he'd watch over their children playing... She missed him dearly.
Presently it was only the two of them seated at the long dining table set up in the great dining hall, no other nobles were present to see the small family of royals acting in such a way. If they weren't alone Catherine would've had to been a great deal sterner with the child, for ill-manners could be the death-knell for the unprepared royalty. It wouldn't do if other noble houses suspected she'd somehow lost control over her family as the Matriarch and assume by her children's actions that they were weak and vulnerable, much like her deceased traitorous brother and his side of the family had done so not a week earlier. Even the smallest of controversies could lead into full blown insurrections if not handled properly. And thus, as much as it hurt her to put a dampener on her dearest son's happiness it was a sacrifice for their continued survival.
Catherine recalled a story passed down to her through the Vomia lineage, of a similar Planetary Governor from a distant system near Tallarn that'd been ousted by a religious revolutionary militia army, just because he'd refused to drink from a ceremonial holy lead lined cup upon his inauguration. Unlike his forefathers before him he'd refused the ceremony, claiming that the lead was poisonous and refused to drink from the holy chalice. Catherine shuddered at how the rioters had then poured molten lead down that Governor's throat and turned his skull into the new holy chalice... The woman shook her head, she'd not allow such a slip up to condemn her children. A people spurned are truly a frightful force of nature that can topple a planet if given a catalyst.
"...Mother, when is Sister finally going to show herself?" The small boy sitting across the impossibly large dining table asked. Archibald Vomia had a rather despondent look on his face as he fiddled with the buttons on his sleeve. "I... I haven't seen her since, well, since Uncle-"
"Hush now Archie! We shall never speak of him at this table ever again!" Catherine quickly admonished from the other side of the table cloth. The woman's purple eyes darted about nervously, as if to see the reactions of the waiting servants by the far wall. None of them stirred, though that may have been due to the influence of the giant chrome headed servitor standing beside them all. Butler had that effect on most, especially when one of his enhanced mechanical arms could crush said person without much effort. Still, it'd been a struggle and a half rooting out Krumb's remaining followers; those that had actively and tacitly allowed his little coup d'état to take place. Over the last several days many small pockets of decent or conspiracy were crushed by the PDF and those still loyal to the Vomia line. As a result of the grand purge nearly three quarters of the spire's servants had been "dismissed", often escorted to cells to await trial or (and it was unnerving to think of how many) had been gunned down in firefights upon their attempted arrest. Judging by the number of weapons caches uncovered and by the number of those fanatic enough to risk combat with the PDF when being detained it was no small wonder the planet wasn't already in full scale revolt... It was a blessing by the Emperor that the traitors had been so unorganized.
Catherine shuddered to imagine what a full scale conflict would look like on this planet...
Their forces were small, far too small in fact; the number of remaining PDF gardes were barely enough to maintain order amongst the lower rungs of the hive city and the outskirts leading into the countryside beyond. They'd had to enlist the aid of several guilds and underhive "security" firms to patrol the sections the PDF didn't have the manpower to patrol. And even then, there was no guarantee these mercenary forces could remain loyal under the current circumstances with the state the planetary treasury was in. As much as she detested her distant relative, Krumb had been the industrial kingpin to Vomia Prime, and with him and his branch family gone the vacuum of power he'd left behind in the market would be felt for decades to come... And in the meantime the Governor's purse was getting thinner by the minute, soon they'd need to start levying taxes just to keep the oil in the lamps... So it was imperative they avoided any such needless bloodshed, not while they were in such dire straights.
Also, the thought of placing her remaining family at risk by triggering a civil war sent chills down the noble's spine. She'd not have Olivia nor Archie placed in such mortal danger again if she could help it. And so, while she temporarily held the reigns of the planet Catherine had felt like she was tip toeing across a mine field. Navigating the hazards of undetected splinter cells of rebels or ambitious factions waiting to seize power from a weakened ruling family.
Once she was sure none among the maids or wait staff were about to avenge their fallen leader at the mention of him by Archie Catherine returned her focus to the boy, speaking in a much softer tone. "But yes, your sister seems to be doing quite fine, she's been looked after by some of our best physicians on the planet. She should be here with us shortly."
The answer didn't seem to satisfy the young child, who merely groaned in response. "But you said that last time Mother..." Archie sighed, "...I miss her dearly." The boy pouted, poking a finger at the silver spoon.
Catherine held back her sigh, instead reaching across the table to pat her son's hand. "Patience dear, your sister is... Dealing with a condition at the moment. I'm sure she'll come out to us soon enough."
"You're right Mother, I just hope Sister is feeling better..." Archie frowned in concern.
Catherine had noticed how the little Prince had progressively became more and more enamored (i.e. obsessed) over his older sibling. After her display of heroics by defeating their treacherous uncle in single combat and saving their lives. (He wasn't the only one it seemed, as she'd heard rumours of a certain member of the Ecclesiarchy spreading praises after her troublesome child, but so far she couldn't confirm the validity of a new Imperial Cult being built around her daughter.)
"You've really gained an interest in your Elder sister, haven't you Archie?" Catherine smiled regardless of her personal doubts, she was just glad her two children were finally getting along.
The boy looked up at his mother with a renewed interest and excitement. "Oh most definitely! Olivia's amazing! She's like those heroes I read about that fight against the foes of the Imperium!" The boy gushed. "When sister started fighting back then she was like 'Pow!' 'Bam!' 'Crash!' And all those rotten nobles were laid out on the floor! Then, how's she'd smashed Kr-" A quick glare by Catherine cut the word short in the boy's mouth, "...She'd smashed that ugly brute through the window! It was so awesome!"
"...Indeed, it certainly was a blessing to know that Olivia can handle herself in a duel. Though I still have no idea on where she'd learned to fight like that, we owe our lives and our people's lives to her bravery."
Truth be told Catherine felt much the same as her son on the matter of her daughter's recent heroism, though perhaps not in the similar hero worship the boy had begun attributing to his sister. She instead worried endlessly about her eldest child, but more so for her health; at first it had been the heartbreak of seeing the back of Olivia's skull smashed in by one of Krumb's cronies, then after her miraculous recovery it was the girl's sudden change in personality.
Olivia's previous demeanor had been best described by some of the servants as "like an ornery Grox shoved into a dress and told she was the child of the Emperor"... Which was to say she'd always been rather unladylike and overbearing. Olivia would often berate the servants, scolding them for not fulfilling her every impossible wish, and chastising them for never arriving promptly enough with her favourite deserts. She would act high and mighty, lording over all those she deemed lesser than her by birthright (which was quite frankly almost everybody alive on the planet, with very few exceptions). Often she'd purposefully go out of her way to sneer and slander those who she targeted for her amusement. Worst of all she took pleasure in deliberately stirring trouble between different noble Houses, seemingly just for the sport of it! Olivia would cackle as dynasties that'd served loyally for generations were torn apart by her subtle trickery. Olivia's abuse of power and massive selfish ego had been well known throughout the upper spire, a black stain only dwarfed by Krumb's own heinous deeds...
As much as she was loath to agree with them, Catherine was not blind to her daughter's ill actions. Olivia had made it hard to believe she was indeed a truly good person, which every mother believes exists deep down in their children... But there was just so many times she could excuse her darling daughter's abhorrent behavior, especially when she herself had to apologize directly to several lesser nobles when their son's cape was set aflame... With the boy still in it.
Perhaps... Perhaps she'd changed after taking the blow to her head. Catherine wondered to herself hopefully, Olivia's demeanor had changed from that of selfish to selfless in the heat of the battle. Even charging forth to save her little brother, and had led Krumb away from the unconscious nobles who had betrayed her so they wouldn't be crushed by Krumb's stomping. Neither of these things were something the old Olivia would have done before, and neither was she trained in fencing nor martial arts... So how did she defeat so many that day?
Catherine kept pondering these questions that'd plagued her ever since the attempted coup. The answers she wanted were sadly kept locked away inside her daughter's dreaming mind, unavailable while she slept off the deep exhaustion she'd suffered from battle. After the third day of comatose slumber Catherine had began to worry...
That was until one of the maids tasked with monitoring Olivia's condition reported that her child had recently awoken and was in perfect physical health, only then did Catherine breath a sigh of relief. The maid had even taken it upon herself to see if Olivia was free of any malady or taint of corruption, the reasons for such a serious course of inspections weren't revealed by the maid, but she'd assured the concerned mother and temporary regent that her daughter was healthy as can be... With only a slight caveat...
Archie began toying with the silver tea spoon once more, a longing look upon his youthful face. "I can't wait to see sister again, she's the most amazing and brave person on the planet!"
=][=
"No! I don't want to!" I whined, hiding in terror behind a large decorative stone pillar.
"You have to!" Lydia shouted, attempting to pull me out from my marble hidey-hole. Despite my much smaller frame I was surprisingly sturdy, my fingers were like vices as they dug into the Greek styled pillar on it's display pedestal. It was a fight and a half before the maid finally dragged me out of my cover kicking and screaming... I blame the slipperiness of the tile flooring and my crumby high heeled shoes. Zero traction in these bad boys.
"You were invited to dinner by the Queen-Regent and Prince themselves! An invitation, mind you, you've ignored for the third time in a row!" My bossy maid said, "So to spare them any further insult we're going! Whether you want to or not!"
Lydia had dragged me down the vacant hallway, through several floors of this endlessly tall spire, and all the way up to a rather gigantic wooden door, inlaid with gold and more skulls than a Punisher convention.
Seriously, what was up with the Imperium and their bloody skulls? From the number of servo skulls flittering about the place to the skulls used as little roomba floor cleaners. There wasn't a room that didn't have some form human remains repurposed into some part of the furniture. It was all so overly edgy it made me slightly nauseous. In just the last minute alone I counted at least slightly over a dozen severed dead heads... I was also pretty sure if you just added in some blood fountains and changed some of the gold to brass this place would be right up Khorne's alley... Note to self: hire a new interior decorator before we're all charged with heresy.
Aside from the bones littering the place the vast hallway we'd been traveling down was fully decorated with many elegantly carved stone sculptors and art pieces, none of which were thankfully alive to bare witness to our chicanery. This wasn't somewhere dark and depraved like the Dark Eldar city of Commorragh after all, where the leather couches were made of still living people... Or well, now that I think on it, technically we Humans in the Imperium made people we didn't like into desktop computers or vending machines. I even recalled reading something about rebellious students being entombed into the walls of the Schola Progenium after a minor rebellion, so we weren't far too dissimilar to those spike knife ear fuckers... I sincerely hope none of these walls here literally have living ears. The dead skulls were already too much.
Man, this whole place was just about perfect for a bunch of cultists and depraved xenos... It gave me the willies.
"They've been patiently waiting for three days to see you again, all while you hid under the covers! The least you can do is show up for a meal with them!" The maid chided, literally dragging me back to reality.
It was also the most I could do as well. I'd been hiding in my room for the past several days on purpose; after the realization had struck me that I'd been stuck in the worst Isekai imaginable I was mortally terrified of ever stepping foot outside my comforting pillow fort. Beyond the protection of my bedroom walls was a hive city, and perhaps a planet, full of treacherous nobles and crazy religious zealots ready to take me out at the slightest provocation... At least inside that room I felt somewhat safe, okay? My neurosis flared up the moment I was exposed to the harsh reality I was stranded in.
"I dun wanna!" I pouted again, sounding a lot more petulant than I had anticipated... I blame the squeakiness of my new voice box.
"Especially not after you made me wear this... This... This abomination!" I gestured wildly to the horrendously frilly garment I'd been shoved into. "It's downright humiliating!"
I attempted to pluck at the pink ribbon holding my corset together. My short arms couldn't quite reach the spot it was tied on back, and I was stuck like a dog chasing it's own tail.
"It's called a 'Dress' M'lady," Lydia deadpanned, she was well and truly fed up with all my whinging by now. "Get used to wearing such unfamiliar garments, because you'll be wearing them a lot from now on."
"Yeah yeah, I know what a dress is Lydia, I'm not stupid," I rolled my eyes back at her, judging by the look my crazy maid was giving me she didn't believe that for one second. "I'm asking why you specifically forced me to wear this pink and yellow one! It's ugly as fuck!" I made no effort to hide my disgust. "I thought everyone was supposed to wear dark and depressing colours in the 41st millennium, not pink and fluffy! I look like someone chewed up and spat out a Rosy Maple Moth on a dress! Even I can tell this is too garish!"
Lydia smirked, actually smirked! The gall of this bitch! "Because you look adorable in it. That's why." Lydia stood back to admire the puffy pink and yellow monstrosity I'd become.
"Before M'lady would never be caught dead wearing frills or such cute outfits, so I always wondered what she'd look like in them. So consider this merely some small selfishness on the part of your 'most loyal' maid." Lydia struggled to halt her small bout of giggles at my morose expression. "Aaand I'll admit, it's also bit of harmless revenge for being such a massive karking twat. Two birds, one stone."
My blood boiled, so I flipped this conniving maid off. "Fuck you!" My Barbie's first gala appearance did absolutely no favours to the menacing image of my seething rage. It's so goddamn hard to be taken seriously when you're now half your original height, I swear.
"You were too much of a coward to try." The maid fired back in a huff, a slight blush resting on her freckled cheeks. "You nearly made me question my whole life and sexuality with that little stunt you pulled that night, pulling me down to the covers and nearly taking my... Nearly taking my purity away from me! All because you pleaded and whispered those sweet nothings in my ear, like how 'you needed me' and how your heart was throbbing so hard it was about ready to burst! Your words sounded like a confession by a love-struck youth, burning with hormonal passion!" Lydia made a fake motion of swooning over such a dramatic confession. "Oh, Emperor! I blame you if I can't ever marry!"
I swallowed a lump in my throat, feeling the weight of my guilt. I'd come close to doing something unforgivable, hadn't I? Even if it'd been a misunderstanding. "...In retrospect, I'll admit I really should have chosen my words a bit more carefully..."
Lydia peered down at me, a raised eyebrow lifted as she drove home her point. "Yes, as you should. When the seemingly highest ranking Imperial authority in the system implies they wish to share their bed I couldn't have said 'no' now could I? I'm but a lowly maid after all, a servant, a serf! Your word is law now, other people's lives will hinge upon your every word, so as a little piece of advice it'd be wise to be more cautious of your new authority from now on, 'Oliver'."
The deathly expression of the crimson haired maid made while using my actual name me take a shaky step backwards. "Th-that was all by accident! I swear!"
"Hmm..."
"A-and I'm sorry for misleading you, I didn't mean to abuse my position, I just didn't know what was going on!" By this point I was blushing like mad, though more so because I was cringing in embarrassment in remembering the sordid event and not at all in how I remembered how large certain parts of Lydia's body were. Entirely irrelevant.
"Fine... I shall forgive my new 'O so incompetent' mistress for her very first blunder. I'm even so magnanimous that I shan't breathe a word of the exact nature of her newfound wayward soul." Lydia spoke, putting on fake airs as I began to sweat bullets under the threat of being ratted out for the abnormal fraud I really was. It was a death sentence in the Imperium if others knew of my true nature.
Lydia went on, grinning mischievously, like a cat finding it's latest prey to toy with. "But for me to do so you'll have to take responsibility for my humiliation, by allowing me to choose your wardrobe from now on." The red headed maid giggled behind a white gloved hand as she looked me over once again. "And I've got to say, I'm so glad I chose this as your first dress. Seeing you all flustered like this is rather quite enjoyable, takes out some of my work stress."
My eye twitched at that. I was nobody's plaything! Briefly forgetting the dynamics of how much blackmail this snarky maid had on me I fired back as my temper flared. "Just because your mind went straight to the gutter that one time, after being pushed down so easily, doesn't mean I should be the one taking 'responsibility' for it like this! It's absurd!" I placed my hands on the hips of my gaudy dress, squaring up to the woman nearly twice my height who put me in it.
"I've apologized repeatedly for my mistakes, but this is just cruel! You had me subjected to hours of wibbly wobbly Exorcism by that Brother Martin fellow and forced me into standing naked for the worst medical checkup in history! I was being scanned by a creepy pile of cogs and wires! I'll sue you if he uploads those nudes to the Noosphere!" I threatened, the squeaky chirping I made only seemed to broaden the Cheshire smile of this servant.
"And besides, you nearly slit my throat the next day after you cornered me on the bed, so I think we're even!" I countered.
Lydia smirked some more, clearly enjoying the banter, as if we were merely a pair of school girls having a trivial spat. "True, though that was because you were acting suspiciously weird, you weirdo!" Lydia huffed. "What else was I supposed to do if you'd been replaced by some malicious imposter, or worse, became some worshipper of a false faith? Turns out instead it's merely an annoying crazy parasite living rent free inside the Planetary Governor's daughter's body while M'lady's original soul is Emperor knows where."
"Look, I didn't choose to be here either, and if I knew how to put things back the way they were I'd do so in a heartbeat!" I said frowning, "But as far as I can tell 'Olivia' is maybe still in here somewhere... Or part of me, I dunno, it's weird. I keep getting flashes of her memories, bits 'n' pieces now and again, and from the vision I had courtesy of this darn leafy crown it makes me think our souls are somehow bonded together. So until I figure that all out you've just got to suck it up and deal with the present 'me' until further notice!"
"Oh, what a shame. You get to live in the lap of luxury while I have to pretend to carter to your every whim, what a tragedy this is for you." Lydia snarked.
"And you just don't realize how royally fucked this job really is!" I shouted, "If the proverbial sword of Damocles falls on top of my head I'll be sure my blood squirts in your eyeballs!"
"Yes yes, I'll be sure to wipe up any mess your corpse makes when some Inquisitor comes by." Lydia said in a rather bored tone of voice. "But in the meantime may I just remind you that my main job, the one given to me by the former Governor, which is now your father at the moment, was to make sure that 'Olivia' didn't go too far out of line... And that was before this all nonsense started." Lydia sighed, "To me it almost seems like you've been intentionally skipping across said proverbial line, like it was an Emperor forsaken game."
I merely shrugged. "Well... I mean when you get down to it, all of this is kinda a game of sorts. Or at least it's all based off of one. Can't blame me for wanting to have some fun?"
Lydia pinched her nose, of all the things I'd spoken to her that was by far the one topic that'd rubbed her the wrong way. Me being a weird ass spirit possessing another Human being was one thing (Daemon hosts were unfortunately a hazard here in the 41st millennium after all) but being told her whole reality was all a massive lie was a pill far too large for her to swallow. "...Again M'lady, I find that part of your story rather all too hard to believe. Telling me 'Your whole universe is a fantasy, based off a children's figurine game' screams pure utter nonsense to me. It's really quite mad, and bordering on heresy if I might add."
I bristled at the use of the 'H' word. A shiver ran down my spine as I instantly peered around for anyone within earshot. To be fair, if there was anyone nearby Lydia wouldn't dare be speaking to me in such a casual tone, nor dish out so many insults one after the other. But you could never be too careful.
After Lydia'd found out I wasn't a high born noble scion she'd nearly immediately dropped all pretenses of professional conduct, at least when it was the two of us. I'm sure if some stuffy old butler found us yammering on like this he'd throw a fit before throwing Lydia out an airlock for the scandalous act of a mere maid talking back to a noble. I actually didn't mind Lydia's brusque attitude, I found she was much easier for me to deal with this way, and apparently her "middle rung" hive speak was highly similar to a modern English accent, or well Low Gothic as it is called. Kinda reminded me of some people I knew back at the office, those that'd transferred in from our UK holdings in London.
"I told you the truth didn't I? Not once did I lie about any of it!" I whisper shouted, pointing a finger up at the disingenuous maid. "You said you could tell when people told lies around you! Everything I've said, about being from 'Terra' during the 2nd millennium. Of being a completely different person. Of how I have no idea how I got here? I told you things that'd get me turned into a servitor for less, and this is how you treat my secrets?! Using them to call me mad? How rude!"
"Hmmm, true, you didn't tell me anything you didn't believe to be false... But then again I suppose it's something only an idiot would make up, and idiots aren't much of a threat."
Ouch! I was so threatening! I seethed, puffing my cheeks out while Lydia continued mocking me. I could feel a few tears struggling to make it out the side of my eyes.
Lydia only giggled at my expense... I'd let her have this, if a little bullying by this red headed harlot was what it'd take to earn her good graces I'd allow it. She'd put up with my petulance for several days after we'd had our little heart to heart discussion. It only seemed fair.
After explaining myself and laying bare my soul, showing her all the cards I had in my tiny little hands, Lydia's hostility meter had dropped dramatically from 'slice 'n dice' to 'I don't get paid enough for this shit'... Speaking of, I am paying her a salary... right? For the amount she was tolerating I'd give her a gold star and a raise if I could.
That tangent aside it'd been a struggle and a half to convince her I wasn't a corrupted warp daemon and instead merely some misbegotten sort of benign human soul who'd fucked up royally and possessed her master by accident. It wasn't easy, but after being poked and prodded by several 'holy' relics and not bursting into flames it seemed to satisfy Lydia's paranoia... Which in the 41st millennium was actually a rather good trait to have.
I shuddered to imagine what would have happened if she'd felt I was something other than merely a lost Human soul... Lydia's mood could swing on a dime, from playful teasing to downright cold blooded murder...
I also wasn't entirely a moron, as much as this stupid body forced me to act like it; I at least knew I was being an annoying little brat most of the time, but from what I'd heard from Lydia, as well as the faint residual memories I gained from this body's previous inhabitant, I was a practical saint compared to the Original Olivia. The body's old owner had apparently been much muuuch worse when it'd come to pissing everyone off, a female version of Dennis the Menace, uncaring on how much damage she'd do and who she'd hurt in her lust for entertainment. So perhaps Lydia saw me as an upgrade of sorts?
There were far too many mysteries regarding this single servant, and at this point some of them I'd gladly leave buried; especially since Lydia could be rather tight lipped when it came to asking her about her rather large collection of knives. Or why she seemed perfectly unfazed by the 'Holy Light' my crown somehow emitted on occasions. Brother Martin had been positively bowing at my feet when I blasted the both of them, and yet this maid only seemed mildly enthused after being give a golden shower... Wait- Shit! Not what I meant!
Mental note: NEVER REFER TO THE MAGICAL CROWN FORCE FIELD THINGY LIKE THAT AGAIN!
Anyways. While I knew I shouldn't push my boundaries with this knife happy maid for some reason I couldn't help myself... Every word I said seemed to end up with my foot stuck in my mouth; I'd say things I didn't mean, or act far too immature for my age. Or well, the age I was previously before I died. Perhaps I was just having hormonal imbalances with this sudden sex change or I was starting to act the age of this Olivia character I'd been forced into. Lydia still insisted on referring to me as 'M'lady', despite knowing that I was a male before my soul skipping. She admitted it was mostly out of years of habit by this point anyways and refused to change her manner of addressing me. Regardless, even after divulging everything to her and admitting that I wasn't in fact the same Princess she'd previously served I was surprised Lydia kept tending to me as my personal servant. I would have thought she'd decide to sell me out to the Inquisition, or worse, once I admitted the truth. But nobody came in the middle of the night to black bag me, so I guess she hadn't told anyone yet. Why this was the case I couldn't fathom. Lydia was dogmatic enough in her beliefs in the Imperial Creed in almost every other regard, so having a soul skipping abhuman confess to her should have been my death sentence... And yet I still lived... So long as I towed the Imperial line of propaganda around everyone and at least pretend to be an Imperial governor I guess Lydia seemed content to let me live.
...At least until a Black Ship came by to pluck me up and away to be made into Emperor protein shakes. I shivered at the idea of being carted away in chains aboard one of those hellish ships.
Sensing that I'd retreated back into my usual depressive funk Lydia took the opportunity make some last minute adjustments to my outfit. She busied herself rearranging my dress to where it'd been set before I'd gone and messed it up. Her soft hands making short work of any creases in my dress and combing my hair back in order. Honestly, it made me feel like I was a child being fussed over... Which was exactly how it looked like from the outside. It was a good thing the spire was practically empty save a skeleton crew of servants, if someone had passed us by I'd have died of embarrassment.
"After all the effort I put into making you look presentable and you go and mess it up like this."
"...Don't blame me for how shitty this outfit is, it snags on everything and gets in the way when I run."
"Then why run away in the first place? Why cause such a scene M'lady? It's just a simple dinner with Olivia's birth mother and sibling. You go in, show that you're not totally brain damaged, eat some of the best dishes on the planet, and then I cart you back to your room. It can't be all that unpleasant."
I shot a look up at the maid. "Too late for that, it's already highly nerve wracking! I thought nearly having my throat slit by you was frightening, but beyond those doors I'm expecting a whole new level of dread..."
"Oh don't be ridiculous. I know I shouldn't bad mouth the royal family, but those two are as docile as flax-sheep."
"...Well, what if it is?" I turned to face away from the maid, not wanting to show the heat on my face. "I don't know any of them. To go through pretending to be their family just seems wrong to me... I... I technically killed their daughter I think when I took over this body. Or, at least merged with her, I dunno." A memory resurfaced, of when I'd first woken up on this world, of Catherine bawling her eyes out believing her child had just been murdered in front of her. It twisted something inside me. "To just act like everything is fine, and pretend... I don't think I can do it."
Lydia didn't say anything for a long second, she just continued sorting out the ribbons on the dress and fixing my hair until she was finished. She hummed a gentle hymn or something while she did so, the tune was nice and calmed down my nerves somewhat. Once she was finished cleaning me up she turned me around and looked me dead in the eyes. "That's just another reason why I don't believe you're an evil Warp spirit M'lady. You seem to oddly care for other Humans, more so than the old Olivia ever did at least."
"...So now you believe I'm not some kind of demon?"
"Oh, I never said that." Lydia smirked, "You're just not an evil one." The young woman straightened out the little amethyst broach upon my collar, the white silk ribbon securing it in place was smooth, but sometimes my fidgeting would shift it around. "Whatever you really are you're still something odd, and I still don't trust you enough to not frak something up, so I need to keep my eye on you."
I deadpanned at my maid, unamused. "...I appreciate your vote of confidence in my moral character Lydia. Truly."
"I am sworn to carry your burdens M'lady." Lydia bowed before knocking on the giant skull ridden door. I had a dinner date with destiny to attend to.