Lindi stood in the gardens at Reinhart's family estates, looking at the autumnal trees. They were glowing with brilliant colors, red and orange and yellow. The leaves were starting to drift down as the air became colder, leading into the depths of winter. To combat that chill, she was wearing a warm woolen shawl.

"Lindi, love, you must be getting cold. Did you want to come inside?" Adler seemed to speak in her ear. She started before looking around and saw him lounging in a doorway, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"Oh, you! Don't do that," she said but with a smile. Adler knew how to throw his voice and abused it, just like he did with all of his gifts. He laughed, tossing back his hair and Lindi admired him for a moment. He was wearing dark slacks and a forest green, slouchy sweater with a brooch in the shape of a golden star. It rested just below the right side of his chin and he would sometimes rest his cheek on it, letting the sharp parts leave little indents on his skin. He walked over, his hands in his pockets. "The garden is beautiful this time of year, isn't it?" Lindi actually preferred this to the warmer summer. She loved when the winter was just beginning, the bite of the cold air on her skin.

"Mmmm," Adler hummed softly before sliding his arms around her waist. Lindi settled against him with a soft sigh.

They were dating, and had been dating for almost a year now. Lindi thought about it with a feeling of soft affection… she hadn't been entirely sure about it, at first. Adler was beautiful but also very strange, with an impish personality that was so foreign to Lindi. But after a while, she'd come to realize she liked it and Adler had apparently decided the same about her.

For Lindi, dating was a completely new experience. She knew about it of course, she'd watched plenty of shows meant for women and read books, but no one bothered with a mutant. Actually going out to restaurants and plays… sometimes, it made her want to cry, because of how happy she was. Not because of the outings themselves, but because someone thought she was worth it.

Lindi was so happy with her life in Hope in general and she reflected on it as she enjoyed Adler's warmth, the cold autumn air. She was still living with Reinhart… perhaps she should have her own place, but Reinhart preferred that she stay and he had very good reasons. She would need private security to live on her own, and that was very expensive. It would also be inferior to Reinhart's manor, which had the tightest of security for a former monarch with many enemies. Lindi was just as glad to stay, because she loved the manor and the people who visited it. Lindi was deeply fascinated by Reinhart's projects and trying to learn.

Her own career was also progressing well. Lindi was mostly doing modelling and she was highly in demand. Most young models had to struggle to break out, be noticed, but Lindi's exotic appearance did that for her. It was still baffling to her, but the Hopians loved her mutation in particular, likening it to angels. Reinhart had promoted her in a very clever way… he'd anticipated that there might be rumors she wasn't real, some kind of AI generated image, so he'd asked Adler to take her to a very important, red-carpet event as a 'date'. That had been their very first date, before they had really been dating at all. But that had gotten her image in the newspapers and displays, confirming to everyone that she was a real, authentic person. And everyone had desperately wanted to know about her after that teasing appearance.

Lindi had tried acting and found she wasn't very good at it. That was a shame, but she still had some minor roles, typically as an angel or a damsel in distress. Lindi had an aspiration now, though. She wanted to learn from Reinhart and possibly break into producing and directing. Could she do that? Lindi wasn't sure, but she was sure of one thing… she would have the time to find out. Her modelling career was so lucrative now that she could easily afford the rejuvenation drugs. There was a long life ahead of her, where she could do anything she wanted.

Lindi felt it as Adler stiffened. It was a subtle thing and if she hadn't been so close to him, she wouldn't have noticed. Turning slightly to look into his face, Lindi saw Adler scanning the trees around them alertly.

"Adler?" Lindi asked, uncertain. Was something wrong? She couldn't see anything. There was a pause before Adler spoke softly.

"I feel like someone is watching us…" Lindi shivered slightly as the wind suddenly become colder, stronger and more insistent, nipping through her shawl. "We need to go inside." This time Adler wasn't teasing and Lindi went with him, returning to the warmth of the manor. As she did, she glanced back at the woods uncertainly.

It was probably nothing, just an animal, but Lindi couldn't help but wonder if there was something there.


Life is so hard, sometimes.

Arielle Sisimund tapped a pen against her 'lips', hearing only the tink of metal against metal. She took that for granted now but not long ago, it had been deeply pleasing.

Arielle was a pwi-necron and a Cryptek. Not a great mind by any means, but a loyal and dedicated one, she was a solid mid-level Cryptek. Her mastery of necron technology was adequate but the true place she shone was the spot where the technology of Hope and the necrons intersected. Arielle had assisted in the design of the Short Knives and was considered an expert with such technologies.

Because of that, she had been chosen to go to Hive Antioch and apprentice beneath Iplanen, in particular. He had taught her the ways of the Imperium of Man, and been extremely helpful in teaching her their limitations. And also the ethos behind their ways.

So when Arielle toured the rendering plant dedicated to making the Corpse Starch, she understood the logic behind what she was seeing. Automation was almost verboten, because of the prohibition on AI. Mechanisms could be used, machines requiring operators, but they had to be blessed before each shift. That was why a small, wizened man with a brazier of incense and oil sticks was tolerated, to conduct the all-important rituals.

The actual rendering of the Corpse Starch was utterly revolting. The corpses that went into the making of it were often in exceedingly poor condition, sad wretches who had met their ends by violence or sickness. Although many corpses were rejected for the latter… the Hive did not sneer at any food, but disease terrified them. Sickness could spread like wildfire in these ghastly places and while it should be destroyed by the processing, it was not unknown for the Corpse Starch itself to spread illness.

In keeping with that, the processing of the corpses was done with reasonable care. Bodies with flagrant marks of disease were rejected, and anything starting to go rancid was rejected. Only the muscle meat was harvested, to avoid the spread of dreaded prion diseases. That muscle meat was then rendered down and combined with cheap fillers and salt, before being tinned. The end result was a salty slime that was disgusting, but nourishing. Arielle had been told that it actually could be made into a fairly decent soup.

Arielle examined the processing lines with an eye towards improvements. This facility had a high rate of worker casualties, from a wide variety of causes. The first was simple industrial accidents. Not much could be done to prevent that, from what Arielle could see the facility was safe enough. Just a few spots, she would ask them to put in a bit more safety bars, because they tended to be slippery. But overall, that was fine.

The second reason was long term illness and that was where Arielle saw excellent opportunities for improvement. The solvents used to make the Corpse Starch were hard on the human body and were used extremely carelessly. Arielle could see spills, being mopped up and sighed internally. That was not how to handle such chemicals. Well, soon this facility would be graced with a small group of Canoptek scarabs, instructed to very specifically devour such spills and keep the entire place clean, as well as reproduce themselves when necessary.

One thing she was doing was spreading the Scarabs throughout the Hive, as they expanded the grasp of the STC. Canoptek Scarabs had default programming that was exceedingly dangerous, so if they wanted them to handle such tasks they needed to be kept in constant contact with a greater AI. Mimicking Hope, they would also start creating smaller AI nodes to maintain control. The Mechanicus was deeply disturbed by this descent into Abominable Intelligence, but also somewhat soothed by the assurance that the necrons knew exactly what they were doing. Humanity had already proven they didn't.

The Overseer was by her side, terrified yet fawning in a very annoying manner. Most likely he did not know she had ever been human… Arielle had chosen a necron design shell with a single ocular and a 'beard' inscribed with glyphs. The one hint that she had been human was the robe she wore. It was heavy, dark brown fabric with a hood, that she kept pulled up. Over that robe she wore adornments, a stole of bronze plaques and also a removable pin, secured to the top of her hood. It was the insignia for the Uhnashret Dynasty.

"Let us speak privately," Arielle said to the Overseer. The authorities above him were already aware of the changes they planned to make and were resigned to it, now it was time for those on the ground to be brought into the plans. The Overseer was a rather fat, older man with a large bushy beard and he nodded. Arielle was mildly amused by the smell of his office… Necrons had fine olfactory capabilities, including the ability to analyze the composition of the air, and the heavy scent of the caffeine stimulant they used instead of coffee permeated everything.

"Our production is going well, great Lord," he said when they were alone. To Arielle's eyes, he had no idea why she was here and it terrified him. She waved that away.

"Indeed, there is no fault with your production Overseer. I am not here for a matter of discipline, so you may reset easy on that count," she said and he sagged a bit in relief. "However, your planet in general and this facility in particular is going to start being rehabilitated to Terran standard. Do you know what that means?"

"…No…" he admitted, looking rather confused. Arielle was sure he had no idea what she was talking about. Well, she would explain.

"The Code of Terra is an ancient code of conduct that dates back to the very beginning of the Dark Age of Technology. It is considered to be the very basic conduct acceptable for humanity," she said before pulling out a small sheaf of papers, three of them to be precise. "You may read it at your leisure, if you care to. We understand that bringing this planet into adherence with this code will be a long-term project but ultimately, it will be done." He took the papers gingerly, as though they might bite him. "You currently stand in violation of just two of these codes. Three, technically, but the third will not be addressed at this time." That was the issue of servitors. THAT was the longest of long-term projects, given how reliant the Imperium was on them.

"The first is adequate rest time given to workers. I note that you often schedule workers for sixteen-hour shifts. The Code of Terra forbids inadequate rest time, outside of very temporary emergency conditions. The maximum shift should be twelve hours, no more." The Overseer seemed deeply confused and now a bit resentful. Arielle decided to address that directly. "Do you have an objection?" That frightened him but after a moment, he gathered himself, likely because of the future implications.

"That will cause production to drop," he said and Arielle nodded.

"We are aware that these changes we are forcing on you will cause a short-term drop in production. However, we anticipate that once you have adjusted and hired or retrained a few workers, production will return to normal levels." The Overseer bit his lip and Arielle continued. "Do not fear that you will be held responsible for the short-term drops. Your superiors are already informed and are expecting it." He was less than reassured, but then he knew his superiors quite well. They were exactly the sort to squeeze all the blood from a turnip they could. "To continue, we will also be deploying Canoptek Scarabs as a permanent part of your production. They will handle most of your chemical spills. We will also be introducing new vat technology…" Arielle ran through all the improvements to the way the chemicals would be handled and stored. There would be additional safety equipment, including small, comfortable rebreathers and finely made gloves for the humans in direct contact with the chemicals. "The purpose is to increase the lifespan of your workers. Were you aware that most of them suffer disabling sickness by the age of thirty-two?" That was shockingly low. And the vast majority of it was cancers, which pointed directly to the industrial chemicals they were being exposed to. The Overseer looked a bit bewildered.

"Is that a problem? They're only lower hivers," he said and Arielle wanted to slap him. She took a moment to control her disgust and revulsion. She might have explained that human life had value, but Arielle knew she would be wasting her time. Instead, she went to more practical matters.

"The Sautekh Empire has plans for expansion into the area controlled by Charnovokh. New human colonies will be seeded there, and they require initial population. Also, we are beginning recruitment for a new version of PDF forces and this planet, along with Luminous, is being trusted to supply the recruits. You cannot assume there will be an endless supply of under and lower hivers, with all the demands being placed upon your planet." The Overseer seemed genuinely baffled by that. To him, under hivers were cheap and disposable. "Be that as it may, we are aiming to increase the useful life expectancy of your workers to roughly forty-five." Would any of them ever live long enough to achieve the mythical thing called 'retirement'? Arielle doubted it, but it might be nice.

"Now, finally, this will be the most disruptive change," Arielle said before pulling out a small holographic projector and showing him the current schematics for the facility. Then, the changes, imprinted in red. Fortunately the Corpse Starch manufactory was not well laid out in the first place so there was space available, they could tighten everything up considerably. "Your facility will be shut down for roughly two months to accommodate the renovations." The Overseer paled but Arielle reassured him. "Everyone will continue to earn full wages and rations during this period. We are going to be installing rest pods," she said before changing the display to show the Hopian made pods. "These are meant to be used when a worker is flagging but not completely exhausted. They give a pre-determined ten-minute nap." Arielle knew exactly how it worked, but there was no point in going into details. "Right now I am told you only give the workers a lunch break. We are mandating a second break, between the seventh and ninth hour. It needs to be long enough to allow the worker to reach the pod, have a ten-minute refreshing session, then return to their station. You will find this increases productivity substantially," Arielle said, examining the Overseer. She could tell he thought these ideas were insane. Despite that, he nodded.

"Yes ma'am, we will carry this out," he said, seeming much happier than he had before this had begun. Well, he was likely looking forward to his two-month vacation with full pay. Such an event was rare indeed for any Hive Dweller. "When is the renovation scheduled?" Ah, yes.

Arielle gave him the tentative schedule, along with a copy of all the new schematics and the requirements, so he would not need to simply remember. During those two months, he could rework the schedules to accommodate the changes.

Her mission accomplished, Arielle showed herself out. A worker was coming in just as she was about to exit and he looked bleary and tired. She politely stepped back and to the side, and he stepped in before doing a double take and registering what he had seen. Arielle just waited patiently and he paled, his tiredness vanishing as he hurried away. She was sure that would just be a temporary shot of adrenaline but alas, problems with sleeping could be deeply entrenched and difficult to fix. She was intimately familiar with that problem…

Shaking away that thought, Arielle went to hail a cab. The cab that answered her was dingy and smelled heavily of nic smoke, but Arielle found the ambience pleasant as she settled into the cushions. She loved strong smells, provided they were not perfumes. She utterly despised perfumes, particularly musky ones.

Arielle had communicated her destination when she made the request for a cab, so she said nothing and after one look at her the driver also said nothing, just putting the cab into movement. Arielle pressed her hands together, taking the moment to contemplate some of her current projects. Next week, she would be joining the work at remodeling the first manufacturing facility on their list. It would be helpful to plan her line of attack.

By the time they reached the Upper Spires, Arielle had created a neat, mental list of her tasks. Filing that away, she exited the cab, confident the amount would be automatically deducted from her expense account. The cab speeded away, confirming the transaction was successful and Arielle entered the space reserved for the Mechanicus and now, the necrons and pwi-necrons assisting them.

"Ah, Arielle!" That was Marcus. He was such a young man and Arielle regarded him with tolerant affection. Although her definition of young was slightly faulty… Arielle was well aware that he was in his thirties, married with two children. Still, she was over sixty years old by now and he seemed young indeed. He was Hopian with dark skin and wearing a special headpiece he'd designed himself, with a lens that covered one eye. Arielle knew that it offered him many different capabilities, from magnification to material analysis. "We have a message from Mandragora, tagged as from the Stormlord. It's gone out to all Crypteks and an answer is required, you should get on that." Oh!

"I will do so immediately," Arielle replied, deeply curious as to what the message could be. Quickly finding a quiet corner, she accessed the networks and found the message, downloading it and playing it.

It was a blurb on the Thokt Dynasty and the fact that the Stormlord had agreed to cede to them fifty Crypteks, in return for the items that had led to the acquisition of the wormhole generator and also, the plans to make future ones. Arielle watched silently as she saw images of the Hyrakii depths, the glorious energy blazing there and the cold, cold planets of brutal steel. It was a place where nothing organic could truly live, the energies poisoned everything and for many, it would be a hell. To Arielle, it looked like Heaven and she sent her positive response. The Stormlord wanted to know who among the human-born Crypteks wished to make this change. Arielle desired it with all her heart, and added a personalized message indicating that.

Arielle knew she would love the Hyrakii depths, just as she had loved her time on Mandragora. She had accepted her transfer to Hive Antioch out of duty, not because she enjoyed it. Hopefully the Stormlord would see fit to send her to the Thokt Dynasty.


My name is Arielle and this is my story.

Once upon a time, I was a completely normal young woman. Barely seventeen years old, I was pregnant with my first child by my brand-new husband. We were foolish children, desperate to marry before he went to fight and die in war. Just one year later and we would have both been safe, for a time at least… him gone to join the army and me in the barracks with our babe. We would have been safe.

It did not work out that way. The drukhari sometimes came early and this was one of those times. We were evacuated by train but our particular train did not make it. My husband was killed in the derailment and explosion. I was miraculously spared… but not much of a miracle, as it turned out.

I was swept up with the captives of the drukhari, to my horror. Those with iron will and enough time killed themselves before the drukhari could take us and the monsters disregarded the corpses. There were always more of us, after all. I remember my wrists being lashed together, so tight I feared the circulation would stop. I was one of the slaves dragged to their ships.

I would never board it. I was chosen to provide amusement, to the drukhari protecting the shuttles. They did unspeakable things to me… they ripped the babe from my body and taunted me with the torn flesh. They tortured me, over and over, and one of them raped me. Even in the middle of my delirium of agony, I registered that that was strange… the other drukhari were watching and jeering, as though he was copulating with a dog. But then, that was what they thought of us.

I survived what they did to me and it was a strange good fortune, because I was left behind. Too broken and battered to fetch any kind of price in Commorragh, I was garbage, a bit of detritus tossed aside. The army retrieved me and saved my life, although I would always be hideously scarred, both inside and out.

My family deeply disappointed me in this time. My husband's family was worthless, but I had expected nothing from them… they did not like me at all. My own family though, I thought they loved me… I had not expected to learn that their love was very much conditional on what I could do for them. With my body ravaged, my fertility destroyed and nightmares racking me nightly, they had no patience for me. My sisters were more important to them now.

What saved me, curiously enough, was the army. The Sergent in charge of the team who had saved me took my name and information and had me enrolled in various programs. Free therapy, free reconstructive surgeries, everything I needed to recover. And then scholarships, things set up for survivors such as myself. I was able to go to school and devote myself to that.

The experience deeply changed me. Before, I had had very little interest in technical matters. After, I devoted myself to it with a laser focus, intent on doing what little I could to harm the drukhari. As a woman I was barred from combat but I became an expert Pride Tank technician, helping with the war effort. My achievements were noticed and when necron technology was introduced, I was given the opportunity to learn. I am no genius and it was extremely difficult, but learn I did. I became particularly proficient in fixing necron technology on the battlefield, using simulations and then, being sent to war beneath nemesor Zahndrekh. I pride myself that I stood on the battlefield and did not flinch, just silently working to help repair monoliths and Warriors, so they could continue to fight.

For me, giving up my body and taking up a body of steel was the finest moment of my life. No more frail flesh, no suffering from old pains. The nightmares still bother me sometimes but they are waking dreams now, usually caused by something around me. The suffering of Hive Antioch could at times trigger them, as I saw something ugly and awful. And that was why I immediately consented to go to the Thokt Dynasty, if they wished me.

I want to be as far away from any reminders of the past as I can.