Dawn

by thejarl7166

2

1. Dawn of Worm

Dawn of Worm

They came in the night, four muscled men, arms as thick as the thighs of lesser men. They did not walk like lesser men, no, they who had been born upon Catachan, had volunteered to the Imperial Guard and fought their way through Tyranids, Chaos, Tau and Orks, their blades reaping a toll upon the foolish, the blind and the weak. Experts in the art of silent death, in delivering suffering by their own hands, personal as their knives.

They who had flesh as hardy as carapace armour, feet as light as grav-chutes and hand as sure as an Adept of the Mechanicus, were on a mission of extreme importance. Their objective lay within the halls of this… Schola of some kind. A place to educate the weak and the simple minded where they would be safe from the realities of the galaxy.

Within the halls, barely large enough for them to walk through upright, the Catachan Jungle Fighters, didn't bother. Instead, they crept along, feet tapping lightly as they moved, knives ready in front of their faces, just in case.

The target was in front of them, the smell was noticeable from 15 meters down the corridor. It was not as bad as the time they had to cover themselves in Tyranid ichor to hide from the beast, but it was still unpleasant. Usually one burnt the corpses of your allies to deny them to the enemy instead of stuffing them inside lockers.

Still, the objective was within, Lascarbines locking down the hallways, one of their number punched a fist through thin metal plating before ripping the door off its hinges. Inside was a catatonic, tall and embarrassingly gangly girl. No Catachan would dare be caught in public with that amount of muscle, but she was the channel by which the Emperor communicated. A daughter of the Emperor as it were, someone to protect and guide as she matured. In time she would be able to breach reality and rejoin the Emperor.

As it was they had been sent through first to retrieve the vessel and next to retreat back to the staging area and to hide their involvement with a distraction. A few demo packs on the lockers, on the ceiling, the floor, and the walls would be enough. Still, the vessel was catatonic and deadweight as it was currently, they would need to devote a single Catachan to protecting her. Not the most ideal of situations but there was very little they could do either way.

2 of them kept a kneeling posture over the girl, the other 3 worked quickly to place down the charges for their distraction. To avoid scrutiny, they thought it would be best to lay charges throughout the entire Schola, all the small alcoves, teaching rooms, the firing range that strangely had no armouries, the mess hall and anything else that was larger than a closet. It was always funny to leave the bathrooms intact when everything else had been demolished.

Once the charges were set the child was picked up and the five of them made their way out of the building, the weight of the girl not slowing them down at all. A heavy bolter was more difficult to carry than the girl was, and if that wasn't a condemnation of her musculature, then nothing was. It was embarrassing and they would be taking steps to rectify it as soon as was possible.

When they were away from the Schola, far enough that things were safe, one of them spoke up as they continued to run. They were covered in camouflage paint, hidden from the world as the sparse lighting of the city streets allowed them to move at full speed but fully hidden. Their voices as if they were disembodied ghosts.

"Crikey, those cunts really did a number on 'er didn't they." Said Gary, or Gazza as his squadmates called him.

"Just a few scratches, a few infections it looks like, nothing to get your nadgers in a twist." Said Bazza.

"A few scratches mate? The sheilas a citizen, she ain't Catachan mate. These scratches are probably going to kill her." Said Tim, the one currently carrying her.

"A little soft ain't that? By the Emperor we better get the sheila back to base, there should be a medicae facility there." Said Fred, the flamer in his hand puffing gently.

"Well, we'll get the sheila out of here, sit her down until she ain't feelin' rotten and find out which fuckin' yobbos started this shit. Then we put down the mongrel with a nice stab through the throat then ey? There's the fuckin' cogboy, we'll get 'im to tap into the infonet and find directions. Shouldn't be too hard and if we're lucky he won't throw a wobbler." Said Black, the leader of the squad.

Right now it appeared that there was just their squad, the Mechanicus Adept that had come along as well as a few support staff, the medicae being one of them. Everything else depended on the Princess, it was through her they were getting reinforcements from what they understood.

"Timers counting down, the charges are going off in a few seconds." Gazza announced, him being the resident demolitions expert.

The five of them stopped and turned back to see. It had been about a minute since they had left and the squad had made about 200 meters away as the magpie flies. They stood there looking expectantly, there would be a few explosions, a shock wave, some dust being knocked into the air, a few collapsed structures and their involvement erased. Excluding the explosion, but it was a standard issue demo charge, it wasn't like they were going to be able to trace that.

What came next was not expected at all.

"Crikey mate, that's a corker." Said Fred, his eyes shining as he looked upon the mushroom cloud that rose into the sky. The entire Schola had been destroyed and there were fragments of it raining on their position, little pieces of wood to complement the wave of dust that used to be walls. The shockwave was enough to buckle their knees slightly, forcing them into a position to resist it. The sound produced, being enough to deafen their ears slightly, the rattling of the glass windows of the civilian vehicles a testament to its strength.

"How many did you set?" Asked Black, shaking his head slightly to get the ringing out.

"15." Said Gazza.

"Did you take into account the fact that they don't use Plasteel and Ceramite here you fuckin' oaf?!" Shouted Bazza, his free hand waving about.

"How was I supposed to know their fuckin' buildings blow over in a stiff breeze?" He retorted.

"Enough! Keep moving, we don't want to be here when the local law enforcement arrive." Black interjected, his head aching. It was meant to be a distraction, destroying the evidence, small. On a properly constructed Schola, it would have at most cracked a few walls, shattered the interior and most of all, destruction on a scale that wouldn't be noticed until significantly later. Now, however? Things were going to be very busy and the Princess would be well advised to keep her head down, this world was not an Imperial Compliant one.

They had the numbers and military supremacy for the moment, best to keep things on the hush-hush for now and avoid attracting attention or provoking them. Mutants were running rampant and they couldn't kill all of them, best to avoid them for the time being. The briefing that had been given noted how some of these beings were basically psykers but without the backlash of being one. Understandably some abused their powers to lord it over the weak, primary targets when the Princess established her power base.

A purging of the highest order was in order, they would bring back order and it would be pretty swell.

The squad began to run again, making their way back to the staging point. This time making a point to stay in the shadows and away from the main transport arteries, if this was anything near a civilized world, there would be response teams en-route to the Schola as they spoke. Best to avoid them for the time being as to avoid the potential questioning of the local Inquisition analogue.

They would be able to kill their way out, that was quite certain. The Princess, however, would very likely want to do it personally and pissing off your superior officer was never a good idea, especially if that officer was the Emperor's daughter. No, it was better to allow her to take the glory and kill credit for herself. Black didn't get his dagger tattoo by being an idiot.

They made their way to the staging point, a two story little civilian residence. The door was barely large enough for the Catachans to squeeze through, something they would have to rectify with haste. Once inside the Catachans laid the Princess down along the table that had been prepared, the Medicae receiving their vox-cast and readied herself to assist.

Once on the table, the Princess was stripped and the Medicae went to work. Her hands moving swiftly as she cleaned the Princess down with a swab, the Servitor by her side handing utensils and materials as she worked. Efficient, the Catachans approved.

From behind the door opened and the one known as Daniel emerged, the biological father to the Princess on this world. His worry for his daughter had done him credit, his composure in the face of 5 Catachans querying him regarding the Princess was impressive. Many a lesser man had fallen apart in the face of a Catachan interrogation, their blades and their stature being an asset and a drawback when trying to initiate friendly conversation.

As of right now, the man was speaking very passable and excited Low Gothic, this world somehow having contact with the Imperium despite their lack of Astronomicon connection. Black wasn't too sure as to why but it didn't really matter, it wasn't like he could stab the Warp.

"What's happened to Taylor?!" The Princess was called Taylor apparently, why she was named after a profession regarding the working of clothing, Black was not sure. Still, he had a responsibility to the man, he had raised her for 15 years, half of which had been without her mother. An impressive feat given the man's status as a gang leader. This Union was certainly a heretical organisation prepared to unite the workers to overthrow the established government, but was it heretical if it was run by the father of the Princess? Questions to ponder certainly.

"She is currently undergoing medical attention from the Medicae, her condition is not quite critical but enough to warrant medical attention." Replied Black after some deliberation. He modified his language as to not frighten the man, what he, a Catachan considered to be acceptable language was very much not what the galaxy considered to be acceptable language, Orks didn't count. It had been beaten into his head often enough and he usually remembered. Usually. Today counted, which was a good thing.

"What?! Why?" He said the man was certainly loud.

"The Princess was found inside a metal locker, her body covered in blood. Upon closer inspection, we found that she did not have any life-threatening injuries and removed her from the locker. From there we planted demolition charges within the schola building to hide our involvement and exfiltrated the area. We brought back the Princess to this location for medical treatment."

Black said, exhausted. As a Catachan he didn't care about authority as it were, prepared to ignore a Commissar if the man was an idiot but this was also the father of the Princess. It was effort to polish up his speech but certainly worth it if the comprehension on the man's face was any indication.

Daniel Hebert was clearly working through the information, analysing it and working through it in his mind. Black was impressed, the man was a thinker, not like the Catachans who were generally doers.

"You planted explosives in a school?" He asked, tension in his voice.

"Of course. How else would we hide our involvement?" Black replied, confused.

Spoiler: AN

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George12

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George12

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Nov 17, 2016

#3

My head hurt. My body hurt. My everything hurt.

It was confusing at first then I remembered the locker. Winslow. Madison. Sophia. Emma.

They had… they had placed me inside the locker… no, they had locked me inside the locker.

I cried and screamed and tried to get them to let me out. But they didn't. They laughed and left me inside.

Why? What did I do to deserve it?

What did I…

"There now dearie, things are better now." Who?

I opened my eyes and there was a woman in front of me. I don't know who she was but she was wearing a white coat, like a doctor. Only she had this piece on her eye, a red eyepiece but it looked like it was attached to her head. Is this some kind of dress up I didn't know about? Why am I in my room? Why am I covered in… bandages? It wasn't a dream? It actually happened?

What happened? Why am I like this? Did they pull me out of the locker? Why are they in my house?

So many questions.

"You must have quite a few questions love, why don't you ask them now?" She said again. Her voice was so… nice. It really made me want to curl up and listen to her talk. Like what a nurse should sound like.

"What happened to me?" I asked. I didn't want to hear the answer but I had to know.

She gave me a hug, a nice warm hug. She had a shelf that I could put my head on too and I just sat there and experienced it. I wanted to just stay there forever. Then she started talking and it was a little annoying, I wanted to stay like this a little longer.

"Well dearie, I don't know what happened but they found you inside a locker, you were covered in blood. They pulled you out and here you are!"

That was… much less informative than I expected it to be. Someone or someones found me in a locker, took me home instead of to a hospital and now I'm here, bandaged so somebody had to have medical skills, probably the woman hugging me. And dad isn't here doing… something so they must have been able to convince him to let a strange into my room.

Wait… Dad!

"What about my dad!" I shout. Please, please, please don't let them have hurt him. What if I'm a hostage, a victim of a nefarious plot to take teenage girls and… wait. No. Taylor that's stupid. Back to reality Taylor.

"He's doing fine, just a bit annoyed but he's fine, in fact, he's probably outside right now waiting for me to let him in. Do you want me to?" She says, her face looking really concerned. It's been so long that someone has been concerned for me. So long.

I didn't even realise that I was crying until she used a cloth to wipe at my face.

"I'm sorry," I say, or rather I sob.

"It's ok dearie, just let it out. Do it here while you still can, those boyos out there don't understand us, normal people."

I don't understand what she's saying but I just take the chance to cry. It's nice to have someone that can hold me, dad hasn't been around enough to notice if I've been crying lately. He's been gone since mom was gone. It wasn't so bad when I had Emma but then she turned and… I haven't had someone to hold me since then.

It takes a while but I finally cry myself out, she doesn't let go the whole time. Huh, I don't know her name, do I?

"What's your name?" I ask, I should have asked sooner, always with the me, me me. Stupid Taylor.

"I'm Maxine dearie, it's nice of you to ask. Now, why don't you just lie there and I'll let in the boyos, they can probably explain everything."

So… lots of shouting. Explanations, shouting, more explanations, and more shouting.

Dad now knows about the bullying, the big guys that aren't wearing shirts… and have abs I can probably cut steak on… mmmm… no. Bad Taylor.

Anyway, those big guys have just been standing there and staring at me for a while now. They looked a little pissed when I was talking about Emma and Sophia but other than that, they've been looking rather… passive.

Then again they are so big that their passive is everyone else's intimidating. I don't even know why they are here in the first place. Dad hasn't explained anything really and I don't think he even knows anything. Which means I need to ask them.

It's getting a little crowded in the room actually, 5 of them standing around my bed, then dad on the bed and Maxine is still standing there in the background looking at me. It's a little weird honestly and I'm feeling just a little bit of pressure here.

"Ummmm. So why are you here?" I ask, feeling a little brave. Since they saved me, they wouldn't want to kill me right?

"It would be best if you directed your questions to this Servo Skull here. Its cerebral cogitators have been enhanced to meet the questions it will need to answer." Said the biggest one. Which was impressive since his head is touching the ceiling of my room.

"We will leave you with the Servo Skull so that you may be at ease while you ask your questions." He said before jerking his head at the other ones in the room and filing out. Dad goes too, I think he's just following the flow. Maxine left as well, she did give my back a rub, though, she really does have a great bedside manner.

What he left behind, though… is a skull. Not just any skull, this one has fake eyes and is floating in the air. I don't… I don't even. What is going on? Why the skull? Why is it floating, why does it have fake eyes? Why a skull? What the heck?

It's got these red eye lenses things, there's a long pipe coming out where the spine is meant to be and there's carvings all over it. It just floats and bobs there, doing little twirls and… staring? It doesn't have eyelids so I can't tell but it looks like it wants to say something. No Taylor, it's a floating skull without any skin or muscle, how can it want to say something?

Dammit.

"So… what's up?" I say. Don't judge me, it's a floating skull, what am I supposed to say to it? They're lucky I'm not freaking out over the fact that it's a fucking skull. Why am I Not freaking out over the fact it's a floating skull? Like that looks like actual bone, not plastic, actual bone, it's got that yellow kind of colour to it and the cream. Ugh, icky.

Anyway, it doesn't do anything, just keeps floating right in front of me. Just bobbing up and down like this skull yoyo. Ugh, what am I supposed to do with it?

It just looks back at me.

I just look back at it.

We stare each other down. I lose.

I try to touch it and it actually comes closer so I don't need to lean out too far. Yay, conscientious floating skull. Better than anyone else in my life in the last year… except for Maxine.

When I do touch it, though, things get weird. Like seriously weird, like what is going on weird. I am definitely not admitting that I squealed like a little girl when it shot up to hover above me. I definitely did not squeak when a hologram appeared in front of me, a man with long hair… what?

Is this some kind of prank? If so I'm not falling for it… whatever it is.

"If you are seeing this then you have received a shard of my soul, that of the Emperor of Mankind, and it has fused with your own. Due to my limitations at this moment in time, I cannot fully assist you as befits my daughter but I can use my powers to send you assistance, in the form of the mighty regiments of the Imperial Guard. I cannot send across my Space Marines as of yet, the portal is not stable enough but the Imperial Guard are perfectly capable. They will protect you daughter of mine, until you become powerful enough to use your powers and join me.

"There appear to be some elements on your world that would serve as tests of your personal ability. When you have defeated them, you have proven yourself strong enough to bridge the step yourself and join me."

What? I have a new father? I have part of his soul grafted onto mine? I can use my powers to travel? What?

Wait… does that mean I triggered in the locker? Does that mean when I triggered I created constructs to explain everything away? Is everything a construct? Am I hallucinating? Is Maxine just me trying to get another mother?

What is going on?

"Good morning Taylor Swift! I am Servo Skull #8998 of the Imperial Palace on Terra! Here to provide you with information and assist you in acclimating to your new responsibilities as Princess of the Imperium!"

What.

"What?"

"I am Servo Skull #8998, ready to serve with information and advice as imparted by Captain-General Constantine of the Legios Custodes!"

Who is Taylor Swift? Who are the Legios Custodes? What is going on?

"I'm not Taylor Swift, I'm Taylor Hebert," I say, maybe this is all a big mistake?

"Correction logged. Taylor Hebert, I am Servo Skull #8998, ready to serve!" It sounded so… cheerful. Like really peppy and happy and I can't tell what gender it is. Do skulls have genders? Why do I even care?

I'll just go with the flow. It's already insane enough, I'll just go with it and see what happens. It can't be too insane… can it? The long haired guy wants me to kill the Endbringers or something? He's also an Emperor or something? Do we even still have those?

I don't even know anymore.

"So… where do we start?" I ask. Maybe there's a tutorial or something? You can't just dump me in the deep end and expect things to go well, that never works out properly.

"From the Beginning!" It said. Spinning in place. The metal pipe thing out the back of its head swirling around and the center of gravity is going to shift aaaaand there it goes. The Skull spins out and nearly hits the wall.

"Taylor Hebert! At your command are the Regiments of the Imperial Guard with which for you to do with as you wish! Destroy the World! Save the World! Rule the World! Be the World! Eat the World! All of it is at your command!" It shouted. The hologram was up again and there were lines and lines of soldiers at attention. There were millions of them… what am I supposed to do with millions of men? I don't even know what I'm supposed to do with one!

Well, I know what I'm supposed to do with one. But more than one? Too much. It's too much. What is even going on anymore?

"To begin with! I shall play you a tutorial video!"

And I could hear a voice…

"You, Taylor Swift are the scion of the God Emperor of Mankind. In order to protect you, the Regiments of the Astra Militarum have been dispatched to assist you as you grow into your awesome power. This Servo Skull will provide you the information you require and also be the interface you will use to interact with the resources at your command until you are capable enough to do it on your own. To begin with, we shall start from the very beginning.

"You are able to requisition resources from the Imperium which shall be delivered through the portal connecting the Imperium and your own Universe. These resources include men, weapon, armour, power, ammunition and more. Anything and everything to allow a Regiment of the Astra Militarum to run at maximum efficiency has been placed at your disposal.

"We shall begin with the most basic unit."

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#4

"We shall begin with the most basic unit." The voice said, emphasising the word "basic".

"The Imperial Guard Infantry Squad for 50 points. The most basic unit available to you, it will always be in possession of 9 Guardsmen and their Sergeant. Standard equipment issued are their Lasguns, Flak Armour, Frag Grenades, Uplifting Primer, Close Combat Weapons and Laspistols for the Sergeant only.

This squad and its 10 men are available for you to direct as you see fit. However, your lack of experience is a detriment in this case and a Platoon Command Squad has been made available for you to purchase. Please, tap the indicated icon to switch to the Infantry Platoon Command Squad." A little arrow on the top right began to glow gold. I press it, and the Hologram changed from 10 guys with armour and guns to 5 guys.

"Included is the Infantry Platoon Commander and 4 Infantry Guardsmen. It is recommended that you purchase an Infantry Platoon Squad as soon as possible in order to better manage your Squads. Please do so now."

There was a blinking light in the corner of the hologram. A sort of little button that said "30 Points". I pressed it and it asked "are you sure". Well of course, I'm sure, what else am I supposed to do? So I pressed "sure" and what came up next was a "processing" icon and it even had a little Servo Skull dragging a loading bar. It was kind of cute.

The little skull went away and the 5 guys are just still standing there. Only the voice started talking again.

"What type of Infantry Platoon Command Squad you choose will have important consequences to the actual manner in which your squads will develop. There are many Regiments throughout the Imperium and whoever is in charge of your Regiments, as well as the makeup of the regiments themselves will have a large impact on the culture of your armies. Press the indicated arrow to change between Regiments. Remember, you may have multiple Command Squads for different levels of Command and for different roles. You are not locked into a single type of warfare and may switch in and out as you choose. You will have 1 Catachan Special Infantry Squad, this is not to be confused with the Catachan Infantry Platoon Squad. Likewise, the Medicae and the Engiseer are not to be confused with HQ elements. Please keep this in mind as you select your first Platoon Command Squad."

Huh. So I can pick the guys in charge of the guys I will pick after? It sort of makes sense? Whoever made this tutorial really sucked, though. So first I pick the Platoon Command Squad, then I will pick the Squads under them? Hmmm. Not so bad I guess.

I press the arrow and it takes me to a screen where the different… Regiments? I guess? Are laid out. Big squares on a grid pattern with a different portrait on each one. They all look really scary. There's a little popup box that comes out "tap the Regiment to see an overview." That's really helpful.

So I go through the squares, starting with the guys that look like they're wearing gas masks. Each one has a little text box under the portrait when I bring it up, all in English which is weird.

"Death Korps of Krieg: The premier siege unit specialists in the Astra Militarum. Their dogged determination and desire to accomplish their mission no matter the cost is matched only by their numbers and artillery. The Death Korps of Krieg are excellent defenders, tunnellers and wall breakers." He said, a short video running showing them digging a massive trench network, underground bunkers, massive machines tunneling under huuuuge walls and putting out the gas masked, trench coat guys popping out the other side. Woooah. That was kind of cool… even if I'm a girl.

Next are the guys that look like the ones in my room before. Big… buff… half naked guys. Mmmmmm.

"The Catachan Jungle Fighters: Born upon the Death World of Catachan where every single living organism will attempt to kill or maim all and where humanity is on the bottom of the food chain, the Catachan Jungle Fighter is the Imperium's scouting, hunting and infiltration experts. Due to the extreme gravity upon their world, each Catachan has skin and muscle as resilient as Carapace armour."

And there's one of them wrestling a scorpion the size of a bus. What the fuck? Then there's one of them whose painted all over who's crawling with a knife in his teeth. Then he stabs a man and drags him under the mud… ok. That… ok. I'll be looking at the ones in my house a little differently that's for sure.

And I just went through them all.

The Mordian Iron Guard are all really strict.

The Praetorian Guard look like Poachers.

The Elysian Drop Troopers, Phantine Skyborne and the Harakoni Warhawks look like… really gungho daredevils.

Drookian Fen Guard are way too hung up on the clan thing.

Savlar Chem Dogs are basically Merchants but even scarier.

Valhallan Ice Warriors are all World War 2 Russians which is kind of scary… they do the whole human wave tactics thing.

Vostroyan First Born are all posh and annoying.

The Cadian Shock Troops are really professional and intense.

Hmm what to choose?

I think about it. Like a lot. I'm avoiding the Fen Guard and the Merchant - likes and well… most of them. I should keep my head down, after all, bunch of guys with laser guns and massive kill counts in Brockton? That's straight to the Birdcage. Nope, I'm just going to sit here, pick the most non-intrusive ones and just wait. It did say I was getting powers and they would grow, best to just pick the option that lets me wait in peace.

So I pressed the Death Korps of Krieg. They will just build tunnels and stuff, let me just sit still and maybe not have to deal with everything. Yes. Wait.

Winslow… I have to go back there. And if these are my personal soldiers… doesn't that mean they are going to start shooting people on my behalf?

Oh no. I. Oh no. Bad Taylor. You should have thought it through, they're going to go and start shooting the school. I think about Sophia being shot by one of those Lasguns and take a moment to appreciate the thought before I shake myself out of it. Bad Taylor, you can't just go and blow people up just because you don't like them. Bad.

But it would be soooo satisfying.

No. Bad Taylor.

Huh. Where are they?

The hologram was 'loading', maybe it wasn't time for them to appear or they were going through the portal?

I don't know. I don't even know what my powers are. They're meant to protect me or something, not actually part of my power. Very weird.

Then again I am Taylor Hebert, the girl who is apparently the daughter of the "God Emperor" guy. How much weirder can I get? This might just all be a giant scam but who would be doing that? Uber and Leet don't do individual videos, there aren't any Thinkers or Brutes or anyone like that around doing this kind of thing are there?

It's very strange and kind of worrying but I might as well go with it. It's not like they can be worse than Emma.

A loud "Ping" sounded off, the hologram had a "Completed" sign on it.

"Good, you have purchased a Death Korps of Krieg, Infantry Platoon Command Squad. Please open the map." Another icon on the screen began to blink away. I press it and it brings up a map of… my house. It even has those little level indicators for which floor I want them to come in. There's even this little outline that shows where they will appear when I press the start.

It even shows where everyone in the house is. There's… Bazza… really? That's his name? Private Bazza, Private Gazza, Private Tim, Corporal Fred, and Sergeant Black. All from the 89th Catachan "Butter Crows" Regiment. Then there is Adept Hurosius of the Adeptus Mechanicus and Curia Advance Maxine of the Adeptus Sororitas, Orders Hospitaller, Orders Famulous, Order of the Joyous Harmony, that's a lot of orders. Then there's dad. Huh, he's here as well? I can't see his information, just his name though.

Still, I have to get to putting this Command Squad somewhere. Ummm… how about the room? Then I can ask them what's going on without needing to get up. I don't think Maxine would let me leave the bed in the first place.

I press the room as the target and there's a big blinding light before 5 men all the same height come out. Dark grey clothes, big overcoats, gas masks, one of them has a big speaker or something on his shoulder, one of them has a sword at his waist and the other 3 have just lasguns. They salute, I try to salute with my bandaged arms.

It's ok? They drop the salute then just stand there waiting. Ummm…

"Now that you have placed a Platoon Command Squad, why don't you choose and place some infantry squads for them to be in charge of?" Said the Servo Skull, the hologram lighting up again.

No flashing symbols this time… hmmm. It's expecting me to have remembered how to do it the first time. Luckily I'm good at remembering things!

Lessee… Press this one, press that one, then swipe! Ha! I'm a genius.

Well, let's just go with the basic ones first. Hmmm… Infantry Squad for 50 points. Let's just choose 1 for now, don't exactly have a lot of space here for them. Ok, picked, then let's make them Death Korps of Krieg as well, and then place them in the basement, no room up here. Yes. Good.

"Well done. The tutorial that this Servo Skull can give you is now complete. It is important you read through and remember exactly what you can call in and the costs to do so. The Imperium of Man is a vast place and its Regiments just as much so. Each brings with it advantages and disadvantages, it would do you well to know each.

"When you are judged ready, this Servo Skull will move onto the next part of the tutorial. For now, you can access your available balance by interacting with this Servo Skull and saying the words 'Activate Workshop'. You may check your balance with the indicator on the top left of the hologram. Good luck Princess."

Huh, there's more? I look up and there's a 215/750 box, I've spent 215 points? I have the Catachans at… 85 points. Maxine at 50 points. A Platoon Command Squad at 30 points and an Infantry Squad at 50 points.

Speaking of Platoon Command Squads… the one that was summoned are still here.

Huh.

I was about to say something when the door knocked. Or someone knocked on the door. I must be more tired than I thought if that was something that I thought. Thought.

"Come in!" I shout. Or try. My through is still ragged from yesterday. Fucking Sophia and Emma.

One of the Catachans comes in and… I can see his name over his head. What.

"Sergeant Black!" I say, trying to sound like I know what I'm doing. He's poking his chest in but he's not actually coming in. Maybe there isn't enough space.

"Princess! It's good to see you up and about sheila, mighty worried you had your dad worried there. 'She'll be right' I said, there's no Catachan Devils or Eyerot around the place to kill you slowly I said. Still, the lads have got a hard 'on to have a little chat to the yobbos that put you in the locker, a real 'cracker' of a conversation if you get my drift."

I don't understand any of that. Catachan Devils, Eyerot, yobbo, cracker? What is he even talking about?

"Anyway sheila, saw the squad of Kriegers you got in the basement, just came up to give some helpful advice. You've gotta give 'em permission to speak or they'll just stand there like them servitors all day."

Ooooh. That makes so much sense.

"Anyways Imma head back down, give them yobbos a bit of an earbashing, keep 'em from doing anything stupid."

Wait. I have an idea. It might not be a good one but it's an idea!

"Umm Sergeant Black?" I say, trying not to make it sound like a question.

"What's on your mind girlie?" He says, re-opening the door.

"You guys are the best recon specialists right?" I ask.

He looks a little surprised at the question. Then he grins at me.

"Aya girly, them drongos might be right bastards but they're the best in the business. What's on your mind?"

"Well, do you mind "reconning" the city? Get a lay of the land as they say in military speak?" That military speak from the movies should work right?

He looks a little taken aback before he starts grinning at me. "Aye Princess, we don't mind at all. It'll be a corker! I'll round up the boys and get out of your hair right smart!"

Again, I didn't understand any of that but at least he's happy.

I turn to the 'Kriegers' and rack my head for the right words. Ummmm… "permission to speak freely granted" I say.

I hope that's the right words.

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#5

The 'Kriegers' look at me before nodding. One of them opens their mouth (metaphorically, there's a gas mask and I don't have X-Ray vision… yet), and says "Greetings Princess. We are the 1948th Siege Regiment. What would you have us do?"

What do I want them to do? Keep our heads down is a given. Make the house more defensible? I'm feeling tired, really tired. I'll just have them keep a low profile for now, I'll give them better ordered tomorrow. Yes. That's a good idea.

Smart Taylor.

Yes. Smart. So tired. It must have been hours I've been up.

"Keep your heads down, reinforce this position and ummm. Servo Skull? Can I give points to someone else to use?" I ask the Servo Skull.

"Yes Taylor Hebert, you can delegate the requisitioning of troops to those under your command! They will still be under your command, however, so don't be afraid to order them around too! Just say the name of the individual you wish to delegate points to and the number of points and conditions of the delegation if there are any."

Well, that's nice.

"Thanks Servo Skull." I say to it. I turn to the Kriegers and say "I delegate to Lieutenant 93#8219, 200 points to use in accomplishing his objective. You objective 98#8219 is to fortify this building but in a way that is not noticeable from the outside. Keep a low profile and avoid attracting attention." Heh. There we go. Maybe 200 points is a bit much but better use them up. I guess. I think?

I just want to sleep.

"Dismissed Lieutenant 93#8219."

I lie back down and it's off to dreamland. Mmmmm.

Servo Skull #8998 was a special Servo Skull. It was one that had limited cognitive abilities as given to it by the Techpriests of Mars. It's cerebral cavity still contained part of its brain, the Cerebral Cogitator using it to run the more complex calculations from.

Right now the Servo Skull was monitoring the Princess of Mankind's physical status, the small implant on her arm allowing the #8998 access to her vital signs. Also linked was Sister Maxine's own interface, her being able to monitor and treat the Princess if necessary. It being the reason she was there when the Princess woke up in the first place really.

With the Princess asleep again Servo Skull #8998 was moving around the house, looking about, cataloguing all of it as part of directive #90 [Record Everything Regarding the Princess' Everyday Life for Future Reference]. The Servo Skull was drifting downstairs when it was attracted to the noise, the human designated as Black and human designated as Maxine was conversing with priority individual Daniel Hebert.

"So what you are saying, is that your squad are currently inside the city, armed with knives and rifles and explosives?" Said human designated Daniel Hebert. Volume controls to be adjusted to make up for sudden increase.

"Aye mate, it'll be fine. The lads know how to handle themselves." Said human designated Black.

"If by handling you mean destroying the entire school." Said Daniel Hebert.

"Aye, a tad of a miscalculation that was, corker of a show, though." Said Black.

"I believe the issue that Mr Hebert wishes to bring up is that your Catachans, do not quite have the subtlety needed to reconnaissance a city without destroying half of it. You are after all a front-line infantry unit, not a civil defence unit." Said human designated Maxine.

"Aye sheila, we aren't the top-end for civilian ops but that doesn't mean we're complete tits on a bull at it. Better than the bog standard at any rate. Besides, the Princess gave the order and we obey." Said Black.

"She gave a suggestion, not an order. You may be guilty of using your own interpretation of her orders Sergeant Black." Said Maxine.

"Ah, sheila, don't be knockin now. The boyos would've gone up the walls by the end of the day, best they go out now then patch them up later when there's body parts missing." Said Black.

"Yes. I've dealt with your kind before Catachan. I know of your quirks, merely a suggestion in case the Princess wakes up and finds the city on fire." Said Maxine.

"Fuckin' oath mate, besides the boys were itchin. These "girls" who've been fuckin' with the Princess, well they're gonna learn a lesson. She's got friends now, lots of very fuckin' powerful friends and they would like a fuckin' word. You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us, and they've gone and fucked with the God Emperor's daughter. The boyos are out for blood, and they've never lost prey." Said Black.

"They're going to kill them." Said Daniel.

"Aye mate, the Imperium never forgets. Catachan never forgets. Those girls want to play at being powerful, they're gonna learn what happens to ratbags where we come from." Said Black.

"It is pointless to try and stop them Mr Hebert, they are Catachans, renowned across the Imperium for their ability to hunt prey, humanoid or animal. The girls for their part in attacks upon the Princess will die. There is not much that can be done about it at this point, they have already left." Said Maxine.

The human designated Daniel Hebert gave an expulsion of air before leaning backwards. Arms crossed upon the chest. There is silence and the Servo Skull is not sure if this is time to explore the house further.

Until Daniel Hebert once again spoke.

"So what do happens from here?" Said Daniel Hebert.

"Well, the Princess requisitioned the Death Korps of Krieg, a squad and a Platoon Command Squad of them. Which means the Princess is planning on fortifying up, securing the house and working from there." Said Maxine.

"What do you mean by fortify." Said Daniel Hebert.

"The Death Korps of Krieg are the Imperium's foremost human experts in Siege Warfare. That means they are unparalleled outside of the Adeptus Astartes in regards to fortifying positions as well as breaking through positions that have been fortified. Since they are fortifying this residence then that means they will be digging tunnels, trenches and setting up emplacements and preparing underground quarters in the event of an attack. There's only a single squad and a command squad currently so they won't be able to do much." Said Maxine.

Servo Skull #8998 felt its attention being drawn away as a human identified as a Death Korps of Krieg Guardsman came up the stairs leading into what was known as the basement. In the human's hands was held what as identified as Mars Pattern Heavy Bolter. A second came up carrying the tripod to mount the Bolter as well as the ammunition boxes that supplied it.

The Heavy Bolter was set up in the room with the primitive pict-caster in the center. The primitive camouflage netting was reinforced to better hide the Heavy Bolter if necessary, it being in a "dormant" position, the tripod bending so as to lower its height to better hide it.

"Whats going on" Said Daniel Hebert.

"We are fortifying this position as per orders from the Princess." Said the Death Korps of Krieg Guardsman. Lack of defining characteristics denied the #8998 a chance to define the female more definitively.

"It appears that the Princess has given the Lieutenant delegation powers and given the good Lieutenant points to spend." Said Maxine.

"What does that have to do with anything." Said Daniel.

"What the shiela means mate, is that those Kriegers love them some fortifications. Which means heavy weapons every few meters to catch out the mugs blind enough to give them a what for. I'm betting you my knife that down there in your basement mate, them Kriegers are digging you a ripper of an underground network. When them Kriegers are done, you could bust out a naughty at full volume and nobody's gonna notice mate." Said Black.

"I just… I. I don't know what's going on anymore. What is this God Emperor and why does he think Taylor is his child?" Said Daniel.

"What I'm about to tell you is classified knowledge Mr Hebert. Not a word of this leaves this house. All of us who are here have been vetted by the Emperor himself, your trustworthiness on the other hand, is only reliant on your position as the biological father of the Princess. Do I have your assent that none of this will leave this house." Said Maxine.

"You have my word." Said Daniel.

"Good, to be sure, understand that should you break your word, we will break this world itself to ensure the continued secrecy of the information. The Imperium can and has done so before, and we can and are very willing to do so again. The lives of those on this world are reliant upon your honouring of your vows Mr Hebert, do you understand." Said Maxine.

"Yes, I understand." Said Daniel. His body was displaying the human signs of anxiety and stress, a transmission was sent to Maxine to tend to the human. Priority is given to the health of the Princess and those related to her biologically. An affirmative was received from Hospitaller Maxine.

"Good, we will start as we always do, from the beginning. When the Emperor fell in mortal combat against his son, the Arch-Traitor Horus, his soul was shattered into countless shards. Through painstaking and constant vigil by his son, the Primarch Magnus, the shards were collected and brought back to the main body. It is a process that has gone on for over thousands of years and it will continue on for many more. In doing so, it grants the Emperor lucidity in momentary bursts which allow for Him to commune with us directly, through Magnus. This is common knowledge, what is next however is not.

"The Emperor called upon us, the Adeptus Sororitas, the Astra Militarum and the Adeptus Mechanicus when a new discovery was made. A shard of the Emperor's soul had apparently found a permanent host and grafted itself directly to the person's soul, a process that would change them over time until they were of the same stature as the Emperor if they grew old enough. It had not happened as of yet but the shard had communicated its intention to the rest of the shards, that it had found a "worthy and pure" human and was planning on melding with the human when the time was right.

"We were called, in order to breach the fabric of reality and make our way to the human that had been chosen. The Emperor however. was still weak and could not allow for those such as the Adeptus Astartes to make the journey, their souls apparently requiring much more effort to bring across. It was only us, normal humans could be sent, for now at least.

"Unfortunately, the human, your daughter underwent a situation where there was a high possibility that either she would die or her consciousness become so polluted that the shard would reject her, and she would die regardless. The shard quickly bound itself to her and thus provided a link by which Magnus was able to bridge and send us across. The plan was as such initiated before it was ready in order that your daughter could be saved. We were sent through with minimal numbers, as much as the Emperor could without overextending himself.

"Your daughter. however, will continue to become more powerful and can take up the rest of the burden from the Emperor and over time, more of us will be able to come across to assist. As it is now, the number of us that can actually come across is dismally small and it would be best if we were to keep a low profile." Said Maxine.

"So you're telling me that my daughter has part of the soul of your Emperor grafted onto her own and she is somehow going to get more powerful over time. That you come from another dimension where humanity is united. I don't know which one is more crazy." Said Daniel.

The human designated Maxine made a strange repetitive noise, a sort of expelling of the air. It has been logged as "human sounds" for later reference.

"Yes Mr Hebert, it is rather fantastical, yet it is the truth. We exist to protect your daughter for she is the closest that many of us will ever come to touch an immature god. She will grow and she will become powerful and she will be the salvation of this world. We are merely her caretakers, and we will watch over her to ensure that she grows up safe. There will be none that can hurt her for the might of the Imperium is by her side Mr Hebert. You may rest safely in that knowledge."

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#7

Brockton Bay, the city, in the country of the United States of America, woke up to the sound of an explosion so loud that it propagated throughout the entire city, shattering windows for kilometers around it while debris landed in the bay, across the city entirely. The entire school of Winslow simply vanished in the explosion. There was nothing left that was larger than palm sized, large sections of it reduced to dust.

Emergency services had been called and the PRT sent out their own response forces. The possibility that it was a cape crime was high, the possibility that it may have been a trigger event sending the PRT into an almost frenzied rush as their own capes were mobilized and dispatched.

Someone with that much power would need to be contained. At the same time the possibility that it was a targeted attack didn't hold much weight, who would level that much firepower at a public school when there were infinitely more attractive targets further into the city. Still, they had to treat this seriously and so the police and the PRT were heading into this with everything they had and the National Guard had been alerted in case it was an international attack.

The approach was a slow one, they had to disembark a kilometer from ground zero and make their way on foot. Armsmaster took the lead, his EOD halberd held before him as he led the small team of heroes down the road. It wasn't recognizable as one if they were being honest, the debris covered all of it in a fine dusting of concrete and wood chips. Further still were what appeared to be the remains of desks and chairs, their twisted forms indicating the extreme forces they were subjugated to.

The heroes made their way through the twisted landscape, their eyes open for a potential sympathetic strike as they did so. It wouldn't do to have the city's heroes wiped out by a sympathetic explosion. Miss Militia, Armsmaster, and Aegis made up the initial team. Others were held in reserve in case the initial team needed assistance while in the sky, their fliers protected those below.

So far there had been nothing and as they journeyed further in, there was still nothing. There was the possibility that it was a trigger event or something similar, but they needed to be sure.

"I'm picking up a residue… not matching anything on the databases." Said Armsmaster, voice terse as the tension mounted. He was sweeping his halberd in an arc directly in front of him like an engineer would sweep a minefield. Hand clenched around the shaft, the other being held close to his chest. A few things that might serve as a last ditch life saving method in his chest rig.

"Is it tinker-tech?" Asked Ms Militia. Hand twitching over the constantly shifting bundle of green that was her power. One moment it was a pistol, the next a grenade launcher, constantly cycling just in case.

"The composition isn't anything we've seen before but it is made from mundane materials. There is the possibility that it's a new type of explosive but we should know what that is, Dragon has all the data and we're coming up clean." Replied Armsmaster, frustration evident.

When they did finally make it into Winslow, or rather what was left of it, they found 15 craters that were evidently where the explosives had been placed. The idea that it was a trigger event being much less likely. It looked far too professional to be that.

Ultimately they were forced to return, Armsmaster and Dragon discussing the possible sources of the explosives, an issue considering its unknown nature, while the others cordoned off the area and allowed the police to take charge. There was nothing they could link to a parahuman, explosion notwithstanding.

Still, there was something that had decided to call up on Brockton Bay, and it had done so in a decidedly unfriendly manner. The PRT and the police would be keeping an eye out in case it decided to knock twice.

Underneath Brockton Bay, things were changing rather rapidly. The Princess was still asleep and there were 45 Death Korps of Krieg infantry given the broad mandate of reinforcing an area and keeping a low profile.

It had been slower than they were used to, but it was certainly fast enough to satisfy the Lieutenant. They had begun at the basement and simply dug straight down from there. The Ceramite and Ferrocrete walls with Plasteel reinforcing giving their tunnels and underground chambers a strength that was quite independent of the weaker earth surrounding it. The network itself dug downward, nearly 50 meters deep and twice that wide. As it was currently, their amenities were very lacking, the creature comforts such as beds being one of them.

They would make do with cots and the bare minimum for now, but given more time it would be just as well fortified as any fortress on Krieg or Vraks. It would require an Emperor Class Titan to dig them out if the Kriegers had any say in the matter.

The Engiseer Hurosius of the Adeptus Mechanicus assisted, building plasma generators and defence turrets inside the complex as necessary. Blast doors, elevators and a proper self-destruct system tied to the power system was next. It was taking a bit more than usual given that Hurosius didn't have access to his Servitors at the moment but each Adept of the Cult Mechanicus started out without a servitor, only their blood and sweat. Earning their first Mechadendrite after their graduation from menial, earning their robes and then the rank of Adept.

Hurosius had started from the beginning and earned his own Mind Impulse Unit after 200 years of service. It had dampened his emotions but sometimes, Hurosius thought that vestigial elements resurfaced with disturbing intensity. The pleasure that came from working with his own Mechadendrites to put together a secondary plasma reactor was certainly concerning. He would have to undergo a diagnostics test to ensure that his cogitator was not malfunctioning.

Its primary function was not to strip his emotions, rather it was designed in order that he could control his Mechadendrites with unparalleled precision, more than that of his own limbs even. It was an even simpler matter to link himself to the defence grid of the network, every turret and mine responding easily, almost eagerly to his touch. With a single thought, he could end an intruder with a burst of Bolter of Lasgun fire, their bodies disintegrating with contemptuous ease.

Still, it was certainly invigorating to work on the generator, something he had not done for hundreds of years. His chanting to appease the machine spirit and his rituals of anointing and tightening were almost second nature. He still repeated the old adage of "Lefty Loosey, Righty Tighty" however, there were things that would always apply and forever be useful.

His binaric chants increased in intensity as his arms stretched out to place the final piece, their bionic strength and steadiness allowing for precision placement of the panel and its wiring. His chants peaked in intensity as he appealed to the machine spirit within that the ritual had been successful. His binaric chanting slowly fading away as the initiation ritual began and completed, the device powering itself on.

A smile formed upon his metaphorical lips, they having been replaced by a respirator long ago for increased efficiency. It was complete, the secondary plasma generator would allow for the continued operation of the network in the event that the first set of generators failed. That being said, if the first set of generators failed, there was the very real possibility they were facing a threat that was much bigger than what could be coped with another generator. Sabotage of it, however, as much as it pained Hurosius to contemplate the act of destroying a sacred vessel of the Machine God, would allow them to destroy the enemy along with themselves. A final act of resistance.

The possibility was low enough however, his link to the defence grid also allowing him to instantly know if there was anyone who was not meant to be here. For example one Daniel Hebert who had returned home from his sanctioned shift of his supervisory position and was now descending into the complex.

Hurosius' auspex array, embedded within the network itself was tracking the man now, he was, after all, the biological donor of the Princess and his safety was an issue of concern. Since he was not back, it took a weight off Hurosius' back, things would be much easier without the need to divert some of his attention away to keep track of the man.

A quick defragging of his memory stack and Hurosius was ready to greet the man.

"Ummm, Hurosius was it?" Asked Daniel.

"Yes, Daniel Hebert, biological donor to Taylor Hebert, I am designated Hurosius."

"Ok, Hurosius… Ok, what are you exactly?"

Hurosius took a moment to consider an answer, it was a complicated question, in all honesty, he was an adept of the Cult Mechanicus, something that in itself was a complicated answer to the question. He was an interface which could communicate with the Machine Spirit, a vital cog in the continued existence of the Imperium. He was both a weapon and a valuable tool. He was both man and machine.

Hmmm. A question to be answered certainly. As his cogitator sped up to increase his perception of time, Hurosius spent what amounted to hours inside his own head while Daniel spent mere seconds waiting for him in the objective world.

"I am an Adept of the Cult Mechanicus." He said eventually. The questions he would be asked from this point on would allow him to refine his answer further.

"What do you do here?" Daniel asked. A very ignorant question if one ignored the man's origins, that there would be someone that did not recognize an Adept of the Mechanicus would have been unthinkable if he was still in the Imperium.

"I commune with the Machine Spirits and carry out the rituals to ensure the continued performance of the machines present within this facility. I am the most qualified Engiseer present, indeed I am the only Engiseer present." He said, dissatisfied with the answer but the lack of contextual knowledge present in Daniel Hebert denied him a more complete answer.

"So… what is going on here? How did you get enough concrete to build this. How did you get the manpower. How did you do this without anyone noticing?" Said Daniel Hebert. He was rather agitated, heart rate increasing as was his blood pressure level. It was not at a dangerous level as of yet but it was approaching it.

"We requisitioned the materials." It was common knowledge was it not? To get more generators, ceramite, plasteel and digging materials, one simply requisitioned it. Indeed, Hurosius did not remember a time when he did not have the materials he needed to construct the various machines in the base, the turrets were all requisitioned goods themselves. The Death Korps of Krieg Platoon that was at this moment, digging further down to enlarge the network, could simply requisition the ceramite as it was needed, they would never run out.

Was that not how people constructed cities and structures in this universe? A mighty strange universe he considered.

"You just pull out materials from thin air?" Asked Daniel Hebert, his voice sounded rather congested. His face was turning rather red in colour, not quite the colour of Hurosius' robe but it was close.

"No, we requisition it. To the uneducated, it would look like we pulled it out of thin air but it is in actuality requisition of the items we need." He said, it was rather simple. If one needed something, whether it be more magazines for a Lasgun or another bolt for the Heavy Bolter, one merely needed to requisition it.

"So all of this… is from nothing?" Asked Daniel again.

"No, no. It was all requisition, hardly from nothing." He said, feeling as if his point was not getting across. A demonstration would be needed he felt. "Look, at my hand." And on his hand was a swirl of gold which ended with a bolt shell. "See? It was requisitioned, hardly from nothing."

The look on Daniel Hebert's face told him that his demonstration was not convincing enough.

Spoiler: AN

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#8

I woke up and… I was in a completely different place. It was kind of hard to tell at first since the walls and the cupboards and the everything was the same. Only the window… opened to a concrete wall. My entire room was covered in concrete?

I frown, then I try to ease out the frown. Wrinkles are bad for a girl.

I try and sit up but its hard, my whole body feels like it doesn't want to listen to me.

I want to get up. But I can't.

It's like there's no strength in my arms or legs, my stomach muscles just don't work at all. I'm trying to sit up, I'm trying to roll over and nothing works. I'm stuck here and I'm starting to panic.

Did they attack me after all? What do they gain by attacking me? Why imprison me in my own room? What is going on?

I start hyperventilating, the stress is getting to me, I can't control my body and I'm stuck inside a room that has no escape routes. I can't get up to get to the door so that doesn't count.

What's going on?!

The door opens and I try to get up. But I can't. There's a thumping in my ears, my entire body. I start shaking, I can't control the adrenaline that's pumping through.

"Ah Taylor, please don't try and move. Your body is undergoing metamorphosis right now and I'm told it is extremely painful." Said Maxine. She was wearing her usual dress today, big cleavage. Lots of cleavage. Down Taylor, you can't be jealous when mom was small as well. It's in your genetics.

Damnit.

I try to talk. Only I can't, my jaw aches. Like my whole body. Only, by trying to talk I notice how much my jaw aches. It's even worse than the time Hess punched me across the jaw. Maxine looks at me with sympathy however and turns to walk out of the room. I panic. Is she just going to leave me like this? My heart drops as well, don't leave me like this!

Only she comes back in, my heart goes up and suddenly I'm very happy. Super happy. What's wrong with me? She's wheeling a wheelchair… only it's floating. A hoverchair. What? Hover tech? Are they tinkers? Wait. Now that I think about it, the Imperium is a galactic civilisation, and they come from the Imperium… doesn't that mean that the Imperium has high technology? Ooooh that's nice, a huge empire full of hoverchairs. No more walking… ever. Yes. I approve of this.

"Ok Taylor, would you like a tour of the facility? We need to get you to the Command Center for a briefing on what your small army has been doing while you were asleep." Maxine said, smiling as she did so. I think I like Maxine, she's like the mom that I didn't know I needed. I think mom would have been happy that Maxine was around to help me.

I try to nod to her question. Bad idea. My entire neck is in agony, my back is burning. My everything hurts. Why? Oh Scion, why. It hurts. So badly. Oh God. Note to self, do not stretch head forward.

Ok, breathe in. Breathe out. Ok. Try again.

I move my eyes, they hurt. Only a little less. Only I don't need glasses anymore apparently, I can see just fine. Is this what she meant by metamorphosis? That I'm changing over time to something else? I don't know anymore. Ok. Breathe Taylor. And it hurts. My lungs hurt, my stomach hurts, that little strip of muscle above my stomach hurts. Oh god.

"Taylor? Look at me. Ok? Just look at me."

I look at her, moving my eyes just a little bit.

"Ok. I know it hurts dearie, do you want to go or do you want to wait here? The metamorphosis process hurts, but I've never met anyone who went through it while awake. Do you want us to come to you, or do you want to see what's changed?" She says. I don't want to seem weak but I'm not sure on exactly what I'm supposed to say. Or rather I don't know if I can tell her anything at all.

She looks at me… then she looks at my throat. Then her eyes become soft. Oh, sympathy. How I missed you.

"Well, there's no point trying to get you up and about right now is there? Just lie there sweetie and you can explore when you wake up again." She said. "Would you like for me to sit with you for a while?"

She seems to be able to read my mind… or at least my eyes and takes a seat on the hoverchair. She puts her hand on my own under the blanket, smiling as she does so. She doesn't press too hard though, stopping just when it would start hurting. Everything aches, I'm not too sure when I will actually fall asleep but she's going to be sitting there for a while…

Maxine stood up, her eyes hardening as she did so. The Princess was asleep and she could return to her duties. She was a Hospitaller which was true, she was also of the order Famulous, charged with educating the nobles of the Imperium, of ensuring the purity of their minds and their bodies and to dissuade those that might turn away from the Light of the Emperor. Those that refused to be dissuaded had to be dealt with… with force or with diplomacy as she deemed fit.

For her charges, anything that might disrupt their minds, that might make them vulnerable to the predations of Chaos had to be dealt with, with extreme prejudice and speed. Considering that the Princess was the next Primarch, that inside of her was part of the Emperor's soul fused to her own, that she would grow up and possibly even match the Emperor in power.

Well, whatever threats there were to her peace of mind would be dealt with, especially while she was vulnerable. Those excuses of humanity that had attacked her for a year and a half now… the Catachans would deal with them, if they failed, she would intervene personally. One did not live with the Nobles of the Imperium without picking up a few skills.

That being said, she was overdue to a meeting with Daniel Hebert, he needed a reassurance and he needed an explanation. He held significant sway over the Princess' mind and needed to be dealt with in a manner that would see him advocate for them and not against them. It would not do for the Princess to be educated the wrong way and turn out to be a second Horus.

As she walked down the corridors of the underground base, spread out and grown until it was enough to house an entire Regiment of Imperial Guardsmen… an Armoured Regiment of Guardsmen. It was growing even further, the Death Korps of Krieg troopers excavating and reinforcing as they went, pushing further downward. The entire facility resembling a massive ant's nest, stretching corridors, elevators for emplacements and more. It was an entire underground base to defend against anything that could be thrown against it. The "Endbringers" that Adept Hurosius had uncovered on the local infonet were worrying to be sure, but they were smaller than an Imperial Titan and had the resilience of something… Not as strong as Space Marine armour but not as weak as flak armour.

If worst came to worst they could use a Vortex Warhead but that would destroy much of the city which the Princess would likely forbid them to use. Maxine gave a brief sigh, the Princess would not willing to make the hard decisions as of yet, her upbringing emphasizing peace and unity. She was not ready for the Imperium and the need to make decisions with brutality and decisiveness. She would have to be taught and Maxine was not looking forward to it.

As she walked, she came upon the father of the Princess, Daniel Hebert as he sat in the "family room" as it was known. A recreation of the one upstairs in the house that was now a large trap filled with Krieger heavy weapons teams.

"So Danny, you had questions?" She said, the man sitting on the couch looking distinctly out of place.

"Yes, you seem to be the most… stable one here. I have questions regarding exactly what is going on here with Taylor and where you come from." He said. Understandable really, his daughter had been in bed for a week now, her body noticeably changing as her body remade itself into the perfect human being. It was a painful process and Taylor had woken up multiple times, only she never remembered she had, every time like the first.

She sat down opposite him on one of the spindly wooden chairs that had come from original room. "Please, ask away." She said.

"What's happening to Taylor?" He asked, face twisted into a grimace of uncertainty.

"Her body is currently undergoing a metamorphosis, changing its very genetic structure in order to create the perfect human. She will emerge from the other side with a body that will allow her to use her awesome powers without fear of backlash, a body that is functionally immortal in every sense of the word and a mind that has been changed to meet the demands placed upon it. The process unfortunately, is not a painless one, the Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes undergo an artificial form of the procedure and it can drive them mad. Luckily Taylor appears to be forgetting the pain every time she wakes, I am not sure if it is due to her special soul or if it is simply delayed pain. Regardless, I am unsure as to when it will be complete, something like this has never happened before." Maxine said, gesturing as she spoke.

"Then Taylor is changing?" He asked, hands trembling slightly as he did.

"Only her body Danny, she will still be Taylor when it is over." She said, laying her hands over his, easing the tension within slightly.

"How did you get here? Don't you come from another universe?" Danny asked, voice more stable now that he confirmed his daughter would remain the same.

"We do Danny, we come from what you might call the Imperial Universe. The reason that we are even here at all is due to the Caretakers and their understanding of the soul allowed for them to follow the thread of the Emperor's soul and then to force open a portal which allowed for those encased in the Emperor's power to travel through to the other side. In short, a group of people within the Imperium lent their efforts to allow us to appear here. I myself am a Caretaker educated Sororitas, formative years spent on a Beacon World." Maxine smiled as she spoke, reliving the memories of when life was much simpler on the Beacon worlds. The most casual planets in the galaxy was their motto.

"So let me get this straight, a fragment of the soul of this "Emperor" of yours appeared in front of Taylor, merged with her soul and you were worried about her, so you came here with your advance force to help her?" A rather simple explanation, one lacking nuance, but it would do.

"Yes, that is roughly the right idea."

"Why? Why are you so willing to jump to another universe to be with her? Why are you willing to jump into the unknown just to help some girl that you never met before?" He said, voice barely below shouting level. He was agitated, she understood that, her devotion to the Emperor and to an extent, the Princess would be rather strange to one not raised in the Imperium.

"It is because she is the embodiment of the Emperor, she is the pinnacle of divinity one may reach without being the Emperor. She is the Princess and to make it clear, Mr Hebert." She stared into his eyes, all the more to make her point clear. "We would, all of us, willingly leap into the jaws of death for her. Her life is more important than all of ours and we will see her safe, we will see her grown to her full potential, and we will see her returned to her spiritual father, the God Emperor. She will be the next Primarch, the greatest of them all if I have anything to say about it. Our lives are currency and she will spend them as she sees fit!"

She leaned back in the chair, calming herself. She might have gone a little overboard there.

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Nov 17, 2016

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Threadmarks 007

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George12

OAMU

Nov 17, 2016

#10

Taylor Hebert woke up, or a human being that was named Taylor Hebert but now resembled someone with only a passing similarity to the original woke up. Her body had changed… dramatically so.

No longer was she the skinny, gangly girl of before, now she was… different.

She felt different, walking was more difficult now that her proportions had changed, taller, more muscle, more power with every step. The Taylor Hebert of old had never felt like this, that every fibre of her being was brimming with an intensity and a strength that boggled the mind. She felt as if she could shatter mountains with a single punch, her stomp cracking the continental plate, her body ready to stop bullets, her skin as powerful as steel.

So much change, so much of the knowledge regarding the change being in her mind, something that was admittedly very confusing and worrying. Why was it that she knew what her body was capable of? Why did she understand the many minute ways she had been made anew from the original body of Taylor Hebert?

So many little things, like that she no longer needed to eat, that in her head, she held the power of one of the greatest psykers ever born in this universe or the next, only the God Emperor of Mankind and his son Magnus surpassing her.

How? This made no…

Hello, Taylor. I see you have finally awoken, allow me to welcome you into the family.

A voice came from inside her head. It spoke with a rather… high pitched voice in all honesty, something that felt so very strange given the amount of power that emanated from his voice. Still, part of the knowledge she had been given was the knowledge to reply.

And reply she did, even if her body was the pinnacle of human development and then some… she was also still mentally Taylor Hebert. It would change over time as her body influenced her thoughts, but at this stage, she was still the Taylor of old.

Ummm. Hi?

Yes Hi. The amusement leaked through. I am Magnus, your older brother. No doubt you have questions, I am here to answer them for you.

Ummm… what happened to me?

Tis a long story. Are you comfortable? We will begin once you are ready.

Taylor nodded even though Magnus wouldn't be able to perceive it and lay back down on the bed, no need to waste energy sitting upright.

It all began…

Danny, Black, Maxine, and Hurosius looked up as Taylor walked into the room, led by a Krieger. He/she/it saluted before closing the door behind her.

"Ummm. Hi, dad? Surprise?" She tentatively said, spreading out her arms slightly.

Lunch was forgotten as the 4 of them stared. The being that stood before them bore the features of Taylor Hebert true, but she was also so very different. Standing taller, at 7 feet tall, yet with the muscle and build to match, her body perfectly proportioned. No longer a lanky teen that looked stretched out by some eldritch force, she now had hips… and breasts… perfectly sized ones that looked as if they had been made and custom fit just for her.

She had curves now, curves that she had spent quite a bit of time in the mirror appreciating, running her hands down her sides and admiring that she had hips now. What was more was that her hair, her pride, the one thing she could say she was proud of, had become something that shattered human imagination. It was glossy, it was smooth, it had no split ends (nor would it ever), perfect to style, perfect to keep, perfect in every way. A walking hair advertisement that put even the greatest of models to shame. That was her, Taylor Hebert.

What was more, was that she stood… proud. No longer hunched on herself, trying to hide away from the world. Rather she stood there, not leaning forward, aggressive, ready to take on the world as her spiritual father and brothers would, no. Even at the peak of humanity gender had its differences and Taylor after all, was the peak of womanhood now as well as human kind. Hers was a stance borne by the changes to her body, one that spoke of strength, of stability, that she was ready to face the world and sure in her knowledge of being able to take whatever life decided to throw at her. A calm acceptance of the fact that life had problems, but also that she could deal with them.

Confidence. She had confidence. Something that Daniel Hebert noticed, and berated himself for not noticing her previous lack of it sooner.

"Taylor?" He asked, tentatively reaching out to her.

She grinned at him, something else that he hadn't seen on her face for such a long time.

"Yes dad, it's me. I know I'm a little… different? But it's still me." She said, walking into his hug.

Again… something he hadn't done in so long. It was becoming a pattern, wasn't it.

Still, it was decidedly strange, she was the taller one now, his head mushed into her collarbone as she hugged him with backbreaking strength. He hit her shoulder blades a few times, ineffectually batting at her, trying to force her to let go before he was broken in half.

"Taylor? I think your dad needs some air." Said Maxine, distinctly amused at what was happening.

"Oh, sorry dad. I'm still getting used to all this strength." Taylor said, releasing Danny, an abashed smile on her face.

"No need to worry kiddo, it's ok. I've missed you too." He teared up a little at that, both of them smiling through the glimmering beads at the corner of their eyes.

Cough cough

Black tried to pull them back into the real world.

"Oh. Sorry. Sergeant Black, I didn't see you there." Taylor said, embarrassed again as she wiped the tears away.

"It's ok girl, we all get emotional now and again."

"Yes, as the good sergeant says, it's perfectly fine. Now, would you like me to begin explaining things in more detail now that you are up and cognizant?" Asked Maxine, standing up and brushing her robes clear of any crumbs as she did so.

"No, no. Magnus has already explained everything." Taylor said, beaming as she did so.

Maxine froze. "Magnus? You're already at the level where you can communicate with those back at home?" She asked, a bit of urgency in her voice this time. The languid prose she spoke with before absent.

"Yes, only with Magnus though and he needs to start the conversation for me to hear him." Taylor said, sounding wistful, it wasn't every day that you found out you had a new brother.

"I see… this does change things somewhat. Explain in your own words what you want to do from now on if you would. We live to serve, but we cannot serve if we have no instructions." Said Maxine, bowing formally to Taylor.

"Umm. Umm. Please don't bow, it makes me feel really weird." Taylor rushed out, walking over to Maxine and lifting her up by the shoulders, forgetting her own strength while doing so.

"It is expected Taylor, you are a Primarch now, the highest noble rank that there is in the Imperium, you will have to learn to accept it as your right. Everywhere you go, it will be expected that those present bow or kneel in your presence as greeting." Said Maxine, refusing to accept Taylor's request.

"Ugh. Well, I order you to not bow to me!" Taylor exclaimed, hands off Maxine's shoulders and on her own hips, confident in her victory.

"Then I shall not bow, but what will you do with the countless peoples of the Imperium? There are over a million worlds filled with peoples, will you tell them all to not bow as well?" Maxine asked, a cheeky lilt in her voice.

"Ugh." Taylor slumped her shoulders forward, defeated.

"Now then, with that fun and games out of the way, let's continue with where we left off. What are your plans from here on out Taylor? We will serve as best we can as soon as we hear of your plan." Maxine continued, her voice serious once more, her gaze resting on Taylor's eyes, every single ounce of her being radiating her seriousness in this. She had said her life was currency to be spent as Taylor saw fit, and Maxine had meant every word of it.

Taylor rocked back on her heels, eyes up to the ceramite ceiling, arms crossed in a slightly defensive posture. She hummed softly before a change came over her body, gone was the young teen dropped into a new (but perfect) body, here was the Taylor Hebert of Legend. Primarch, daughter of the God Emperor of Mankind with all that entailed, she who would in future have hymns sung of her name, she who was the closest to divinity that the people of Earth Bet would ever lay eyes on.

No longer Taylor Hebert the young, the insecure. No, this was Taylor Hebert the Primarch.

"I will do as my Brothers and my Spiritual Father did. I will claim this planet, I will unify under my name, under my fist. I will fight off the foul aliens that have called my world their home, I will defend the people who suffer under their foul games, I will crush my enemies, I will savour my friends. I will liberate this world, all who stand before me must be destroyed.

"So I swear on my name as Taylor Hebert." Voice thunderous, resonating in their very bones and souls, the four in the room quivered, even Hurosius, more machine than man.

There was a brief amount of clapping from Maxine before she cruelly cut into Taylor.

"Very good inflections, pitch, and tonal control. However, it was a bit long and needs some work if you wish to be known as a great orator." Maxine said.

Taylor looked down at that, Maxine smiled and said "It was a perfectly good first try dear. But you must understand, you are about to embark on a journey of global conquest, you must hone every part of yourself to perfection. Otherwise, the good people will find fault with it, people tend to not like being conquered you see, even if it is with good deeds and grace [[warding off Taylor's interruption]. If they criticise it will only stir discontent, and a discontent people rebel. Be perfect and they will have nothing to criticise." Maxine said, giving Taylor a hug.

"But if I need to train then…" Taylor's voice trailed off, the mounting horror on her face only matched by the wide smile on Maxine's.

"Yes Taylor, classes."

It was said the groan could be heard throughout the entire underground complex. Physically impossible said Hurosius, but the Kriegers refused to give up the idea that it had happened.

They were very happy to have a walking embodiment of the Emperor walking amongst them. Assigning her miracles was just a natural extension of that.

The Death Korps of Krieg had been bolstered however by the presence of even more of their number, her eminence in her infinite wisdom (lol), had decided that while she was taking classes to learn all that she needed to know as a ruler of humanity, the Kriegers would continue fortifying the position around complex as well as beginning the manufacturing of more complex rooms in the base.

To that end 3 more Engiseers had been summoned, their presence to augment the clearly overworked Hurosius. At the same time, another 10 squads of Death Korps of Krieg infantry had been summoned, not as infantry but as labourers, their skills in fortifications needed here. They would assist the already existing squads as they tunnelled and fortified the area.

In the week that Taylor had been unconscious, they had dug deep, nearly a kilometer deep. They had not spread out wide, their lack of manpower making that a foolish and potentially dangerous situation if someone were to discover the tunnels. No, deep it was.

Now, however, they had the manpower and could now go wide, the Engiseers in their little Manufactorum could begin trying to create specialized weaponry to be used by the guardsmen. There was little hope of that given their attitude towards creating technology instead of merely replicating it, but a guardsman could dream.

The cogs were turning and this world would soon learn of the name 'Taylor Hebert' may she live forever.

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Threadmarks Interlude 01

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George12

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#12

Garry, or Gazza to his mates was a good guy. He carried his weight, kept things on the hush hush when he needed to and when it came down to it, he was a hard hitter in a fight.

Didn't mean he was dumber than a stack of bricks, just slightly sharper than a sack of knives. Sure he wasn't going to be going around talking to machines like the cogboys, but it didn't mean that he had nothing else going for him either.

He could take apart a man, a Catachan Devil, a Chaos Space Marine just to name a few. All of them at some point or another felt the bite of his knife or rather knives. He had a few of the bad boys, a dinky little thing with venom on it that could kill a Space Marine, a mercury filled machete of sorts that gave him that extra little oomph when he wanted to remove a few limbs without all the effort. Then there was his power knife, well he called it a knife, but apparently it was called a sword by the Imperials.

He wasn't exactly sure as to the whys, but it might because he was 2 meters and 10 centimeters tall, a giant of a man compared to the dinky little humans in the rest of the Imperial Guard. Sure he wasn't Space Marine tall, but he was tall enough that one had to look up when trying to talk to him.

Gazza didn't really notice his height until his first deployment. That had been interesting. So many little people compared to the Catachans who had been deployed. It turned out the Catachan just made really great soldiers naturally, being tall was how things went, a nice little perk to have when your homeworld ate most of its population. That and the short people tended to get eaten first.

His height had been a little conspicuous then, it was a little conspicuous now. As he walked down the little area near the coast that the natives called the "boardwalk", he kept his eyes open. He was here on an "in-depth reconnaissance" mission to fully explore the area in preparation for its eventual annexation by the Princess.

Well that had been what he had been told, he wasn't sure as to how much of it was truth or fiction, and he wasn't interested in finding out. Decades of campaigning, some of it against Chaos had seen him and all the others who had fought them, develop some very healthy respect for the idea of compartmentalization. When the enemy could quite literally pull your thoughts from your mind, the less you knew was the better for your mates.

It was only the fact that he was a Catachan that had kept him alive in a few of those situations. Where someone had their thoughts wiped and the Chaos bastards had set up an ambush, only they were human and he had grown up on Catachan. If they considered that to be an effective ambush… well they had another thing coming.

Which it did. His bicep had 6 confirmed Chaos Space Marine kills from that campaign. It certainly got the ladies going he knew that much. A few of the Guardswomen had been very appreciative of his saving their lives and he had been happy to accept their appreciation. Size in body had translated to size down there as well.

His height was allowing him to make his way through the crowd without worrying about whether or not he knew where he was going. People would make way for him, that was how life was in the land of giants. Or rather that's how it should have worked.

"Hey there little lady, watch where you're going hmmm?" He said, his voice rumbling out of his chest. When you were 2 meters and a bit tall, you needed to speak up or nobody would be able to hear you from up on high. Gazza gently caught the little girl by the shoulders and shifted her slightly to the side so that she wouldn't walk dead-on into him. While it wouldn't be much of an issue for him, his muscles were dense enough that he could take a few bullets to the chest without worrying, the little girl might get knocked out.

He had learnt that the hard way when a guardsman had run into him and knocked himself out on his chest.

She looked up at him, those were some nice eyes, a little sharp. They were green, but that wasn't the problem, it was the way she was looking at him, like the way psykers did when trying to see someone. It was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. She had dark blond hair which was rather different. Sanctioned psykers generally didn't have hair, all the better to see the blood or tattoos if they turned to Chaos. Not all psykers turned, but there had been enough for him to be wary around them.

She had freckles which brought out a grin on his face. It had been a while since he had seen someone with freckles. There was Fred all the way back on Catachan, a rangar, red as the afternoon sun, freckles covering his face and most of his shoulders. The lads used to joke about whether or not rangars felt pain more than other hair colours. Too bad he had died the first time they went out, a Dragoon Firefly grove had gotten him before they even knew what was happening.

It was called that since the damned things liked to line up in little neat rows that made their particular woody camouflage pattern blend in with the bark of the trees they perched on. The fire part being the way they fired acid at anything that came nearby that felt like you were being burned alive. Poor Fred had died screaming.

The girl was looking up at him, just staring. Gazza wasn't sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. Apparently, psykers were different in this universe, they didn't have the whole falling to the Ruinous Powers thing going on and weren't insane and wracked by constant pain like other psykers were. That and they were more accepted in this society than psykers back in the home universe were, it was a rather strange feeling but it wasn't the worst. Not having to constantly worry about executing the poor lad that just wanted peaceful sleep was a good thing in his book.

"Ummm. I'm sorry about that. Do you mind if I bought you a drink to make up for it?" She said, her voice told him that she was pretty young. Old enough to kill, but not old enough to be shipped out yet. Hadn't hit her stride yet.

Still, the psyker wanted him to accompany her a bit longer. Gazza wondered a bit about whether or not this was a ploy of some kind. Maybe she really needed someone to kill her? To put her out of her misery?

Nah, the psykers here weren't weird. Now that he thought about it, they got their powers after they had been born. Didn't that make them mutants? Like… brain mutants. Some of them were physical mutants but the rest were brain mutants. Gazza wasn't sure what he was meant to do when he met up with one of the physical mutants, was he supposed to kill them? The Imperial Motto (the unofficial one) said to Kill the Mutant… that and Burn the Heretic and Purge the Unclean.

Hmmm. Something to think about, he might have to ask Sergeant Black about their Rules of Engagement.

Abruptly he snapped back to the present, his hands were still on the girl's shoulders, bit hands compared to her really, each palm covered what must have been half her shoulders as well as a big portion of her upper arms. That and he hadn't replied to her invitation.

Well maybe he should, he was meant to be doing some "investigating" after all, and he always wanted to try being like those Pic-Vids that the Guardsmen liked to watch when they had free time. They didn't have stuff like that back on Catachan, every day had been a fight for survival, they didn't have time to watch things like that and waste time. Not when they could be outside burning back the foliage, maintaining the weapons, or the millions of other little things that kept the village running.

"Sure." he said.

Lisa Wilbourn had been walking down the Boardwalk, trying to clear her head. Coil still had her in his grips, the Undersiders were still in a perpetual state of near anarchy with Bitch being a… bitch, and Regent just poking at everyone until they just left the room… that or punch him in the face.

She needed a little air and so she had left, the little apartment she had, that no doubt Coil knew about was just too confining on a day like today. A day where you could actually see the sun for once, and Lisa had had enough of being locked up, even if it was in her mind.

And so it was that she was walking down the Boardwalk, her head to the ground, trying to keep her eyes from looking up and into the mass of people milling around. It would be a bad idea if she did, while it wouldn't overload her mind and bring on the migraines at something like this, it would still be a strain on her if she did. Always keep some in reserve or so she had learnt.

It was also why she had seen a gap between the legs around her that she stepped into it and had almost collided with a giant of a man. As in he was so tall that she had to crane her neck nearly all the way back to look at his face.

Shirt tight - uncomfortable - not used to wearing a shirt - not used to wearing clothes at all

Woah. She didn't need to know that. Sure she enjoyed the male physique, what kind of girl that wasn't a lesbian didn't? Especially the one in front of her, those arms were thicker than her thighs she was sure, that chest and mmmm… all of it. He was a prime male specimen, and if it wasn't for her pesky power ruining any intimate moments she could have, she would be lapping him up. If he was single. Maybe even if he wasn't, one just didn't let man like this get away.

It was then that she looked up into his eyes and had to hide her shock. The gasp nearly breaking its way through the sudden clenching of her teeth.

Eyes tightening - Stress - Knows I have powers - Knows I can deduce information with my powers - Has seen similar before - Suspicious of me - Wary

Lisa had to make very sure she didn't betray herself, he knew that she was Cape. She wasn't sure how, but he knew for sure that she was a Cape. What was more, she was very sure that since he had met people with powers like hers before… he was going to be paying attention to her from this point forward. What this meant she wasn't sure. She had to get him alone to question him. She needed answers, this was too mysterious and even though her danger senses were ringing with the force of a million alarm bells… she was intrigued and that was dangerous in and of itself. A mystery wrapped in a tall, dark package? Mmmmm.

Lisa wracked her mind about what to say before settling on a classic.

"Ummm. I'm sorry about that. Do you mind if I bought you a drink to make up for it?"

Interested - Unexpected proposal

She hid her grin, the one that was about to break out on her face. Only for it to stop.

Distracted - Thinking about something else - Tangentially related

Lisa fought the urge to frown, a cute girl asks you out and he has the nerve to daydream? The bastard.

"Sure." He said. Shrugging because he was a bastard.

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Threadmarks Interlude 02

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George12

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#13

Lisa sat at the table in the coffee shop, something warm, mmmmm. It was extra sweet, just the way she liked it, everything else in life was a little sour, why not get something that isn't absolutely terrible in there? Add in a little caramel, a little more sugar, a little chocolate, and maybe some coffee… if you insist. Lisa took a moment to appreciate the gloriousness that came with drinking something so deliciously amazing.

The man opposite her meanwhile, the one she had invited while she wasn't thinking straight was simply sitting down and was drinking tea like a heathen. Or rather he had drunk his tea like a heathen. A single gulp and the entire mug went down his throat, a mug of what must have been boiling hot tea.

Felt no pain

Gee power. Thanks for that, a man that doesn't feel pain from boiling water. Just what I wanted to know.

"Speak." Came his voice, deep and very impatient. She didn't need her powers to tell her that.

She risked a look at him, avoiding his eyes, she didn't want to annoy him again. Some had said that she was cocky, that she was too self confident. And that was true, when your powers dissected the world around you and fed it straight to your mind in streams of information, there came a sense of power with that. Of knowing what the world did not, of being different… special. It had certainly fueled her thoughts, her knowledge of her difference being very much central to her identity, it was all she had really.

Sure she had money, but she was locked in by Coil, the Undersiders had been forced upon her and if she could, she would be keeping her head down rather than going out and doing Coil's missions. Sure she liked the thrill of it, but she liked having her head on her body even more. There was going to be a point that something was going to go wrong, and she wasn't going to be making it out in one piece. She was sure of that.

Escape… escape was impossible, not with Coil's power. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it wasn't as simple as probability manipulation. No, it was something different, something that was very much screwing her over.

Coil had kept her away from him as much as possible, to not give away his secrets, and Lisa's only chance of getting away was to find his power and abuse its weakness, assuming it had one.

"What is your name?" She started. Get information, see what he wants, see what he is, see maybe if he could be of any use to her plans.

"Garry, you can call me Gazza." There was that accent again. Australian, but with a little flair to it that she had never heard before. Rural dialect perhaps? There was also the fact that he abbreviated his name with a ZZA at the end of it, clear tells that he was probably Australian.

Confident - At ease - Has done this before

Lisa wasn't sure what was going on, but this was getting very strange very fast. How exactly was it that this man had contact with someone like her before? Weren't powers meant to be unique? Even still, if there were those with similar powers, how exactly did he have enough contact to be comfortable with one? Just what the hell was this man?

"I'm Lisa, nice to meet you Gazza." She replied back, wracking her brain to figure out a way to maybe figure out what he was exactly. This was getting frustrating. Asking directly might work, but if he knew how to counter her then she was going in blind, maybe even getting the wrong tells entirely.

Ugh.

Thinking and counter-thinking was going to kill her brain at some point or another. She might as well ask straight out and avoid trying to second guess herself. It was not a feeling that Lisa was used to. Usually, people second guessed themselves around her, she was not enjoying being on the opposite side of it.

"What are you doing her Gazza? A big man like you walking around in the middle of the day?" She said.

He knows this is an interrogation - Finds it amusing - Willing to humour - Wants information

She could work with that. A little give, a little take. He might not be a possible hostile and maybe even a possible ally. There hadn't been any indication that he was a Cape so far, just a very fit and tall man.

"Getting the lay of the land so to speak." Gazza said, leaning a little forward. A little for him that is, it was a very big looming for Lisa on the other side of the tiny little table.

Lay of the land - Military speak - Soldier - Current - On a mission

A soldier on a mission in Brockton bay. That did not sound good at all. She was going to need to get this to Coil, lay low for a few days or weeks even until this blew over. It would not be a good idea to antagonize the men with the guns and the tanks. Knowing the composition of the shell being fired at her from the barrel of a cannon would be interesting, but not very helpful in the grand scheme of things. That and the idea that they were working on training soldiers to counter powers.

"Oh, for anyone in particular?" Maybe he would drop which branch of the military he was part of. All the more to avoid whatever it was they were planning. She was not enjoying having to pull out every single piece of information, but he was making it so difficult.

Body posture - Highly alert - Used to being in high tension scenarios - Used to being in constant danger - Extremely relaxed - Used to being in high tension scenarios - Has killed - Not bothered by killing - Ready to kill - Ready to kill me

And so it went on and on, a large loop that was pounding its way through her skull. If he twitched or did a little jig with his fingers she would have what she wanted, but he just sat there, relaxing. It was infuriating and she was really aching to try and tear him down, not exactly the most intelligent of decisions, but desires were very rarely intelligent or even rational.

"The Sergeant." He said, smiling a little as he did so.

Enjoying this - knows this is frustrating for the questioner - drawing this out on purpose

Lisa gritted her teeth. Damnit, he must be a thinker or something if he was able to just… play with her so easily.

Maybe she could try using her powers on his clothes a bit more?

Pants crinkled - Dislikes discipline - Anti-Authority

And that didn't help. Sure it gave her his personality, but when he knew she would be going after those triggers, it wasn't going to help her in any way. She needed his motivations before she went crazy with frustration. This man was evil, he must be, it was the only thing that could explain what he was doing to her.

"Where are you from?" It was like pulling teeth from a particularly obstinate donkey.

Unsure of how to answer - Doesn't think I know where he's from - Not from around here

Well… that was insulting. Did he think that she was an idiot? Lisa gnashed her teeth, it was very difficult being on the other side of the conversation, where people thought she was stupid. It was very much like she thought it would be like.

Terrible. So very terrible.

"Hmmmm."

"Australia? You're from Australia?" She asked desperately.

Confused - Not sure what Australia is - Not from Australia

Then where did he get the accent?!

"Alice Springs. I'm from Alice Springs."

Truth - Believes he is from Alice Springs - Not Australian Alice Springs

Lisa felt a headache coming on. Not a thinker headache, a normal, run of the mill, frustration borne headache. She put her head on her hands or rather she put 2 fingers to her temples and massaged them.

Gazza jerked away from her, tension radiating from his body.

Ready for combat - Ready to kill - Can kill from that distance - Can kill before I can realise I am dead - Threatened by gesture - Gesture brings up bad connotations for him - Dangerous

This was… something that she hadn't expected at all. Lisa pulled her hands down slowly down. It was breakthrough, one that she realised came very close to killing her. How was she supposed to know that was going to happen? The headache came back, threatening to jab needles into her brain.

This was very much something she didn't want to deal with. A stranger that could identify her power, one that was apparently very used to killing and was very willing to kill her in public. Lisa liked a little danger, but this was very much out of her comfort zone.

Gazza relaxed slightly, it looked like the little mutant had decided not to attack him. It was a very definite sign that when a psyker wanted to use their powers, they would often either use their focus in one hand and extend the other outward. If they didn't have a focus however, they would instead put fingers to their temples instead. He had been ready to kill her before she tried to engage him.

Every time a psyker used their powers, there came with it the risk of her going insane and becoming possessed, it was a mercy more than anything else. If she had indeed become possessed, she would thank him for killing her before the daemon ate her soul. Sure the mutants and psykers of this universe didn't have the problem of daemons possessing their souls, but there was a first time for everything.

Thankfully the girl had decided that she had stopped. He didn't want to kill her, it was too much fun playing with her. He had dealt with psykers before, even had to guard a few of them, and it turned out that her abilities were very similar to theirs. That being mind reading or something similar, "reading the gestalt" or whatever they called it. He had to make sure his body language was as relaxed and simple as possible, to make sure that he gave nothing away through the way he sat, walked or talked. He had to say as little as he could to make it harder for her to glean anything from him.

It had taken a little while for him to perfect it, but the campaign had gone on for a few decades until his psyker charge had been killed. By him, the woman had reached too far and was being consumed by a daemon before he put a knife into the back of her head. The woman had managed to thank him before she died, which just went to show how far the daemon had managed to change her if a knife to the head hadn't straight up kill her.

Still, she had taught him enough that a fledgling little psyker like the girl in front of him wasn't able to penetrate his defences. She was making an admirable effort, asking him little innocuous things that would allow her to read his gestalt from his answers, or non-answers as it were. So long as the questions kept coming, she would be able to slowly dissect him and find what she wanted.

The question of where he was from was a little difficult, but it appeared that Alice Springs was indeed something in this universe. The one that he was from, was a spring made up of poison so concentrated that it allowed a lake to exist on a perpetual basis. The only permanent thing around in the region of Catachan where he had been born. As such it had received a name because of its rarity. If would be rather nostalgic if the Alice Springs of this universe was the same, Gazza resolved to visit it sometime.

He hadn't been home since he had left when he was conscripted to do his duty.

Still, that would be a little while away, and he was having so much fun poking at the little psyker. Taylor Hebert was finding that being a Primarch, the pinnacle of human existence, was not the greatest thing in the world. Rather it was kind of boring, lots of studying. Lots of studying.

Maxine was teaching her all she needed to know about how to rule a world, how to be diplomatic, how to do things in general. Lots of busywork essentially. What this meant for poor Taylor was that she was sitting in a room while Maxine lectured to her for hours on end. Her mind was sharp enough that she remembered everything that was being said, she didn't even have a notepad or anything like that to fiddle with while she was sitting down. The horrors of being a perfect human being.

Then came Hurosius' teachings, hours on hours of technical explanations, of teaching her what science was beyond quantum mechanics. So much to process, so little time, all of it just piling up inside her brain until she reached a catatonic state, all of the information just being poured into her head.

After that came Black's physical training, teaching her how to move her body the most efficiently and how to perform various take down manoeuvres. How to train her body so it was used to the demands she was going to be putting on it, how to stretch properly, the important things.

And so it was that despite her body having metamorphosed into something beyond humanity, she went to bed every day exhausted in body, mind and spirit.

The same could not be said for her "advisors".

"So we have confirmation on what exactly it is that we are having to deal with on this planet?" Asked Black, his eyes glancing over the data-slates in front of him.

He was a Catachan Jungle Fighter, his body barely a step below that of an Astartes. The pinnacle of humanity when it came to killing things and making sure that they were dead. He had not learnt to read until much later in life, there being little need for it when every day was a fight for survival.

One did not need to read to strip down a lasgun, one did not need to read in order to strip down a death claw. No, reading was optional when it came to surviving on Catachan. But as the highest ranking soldier in his little unit, or rather the fact that he was an officer (sort of) meant he needed to be able to read orders. Which in turn meant he was here now, trying to read the piddling little script that was low gothic on an even more piddly little screen on the data slate.

It was not what one might call an enjoyable experience, in fact, it was distinctly unenjoyable. His eyes that could spot a genestealer from 200 meters away, were straining themselves on the little letters they were called.

"The natives call them "Endbringers". A rather grandiose term but fitting for their capabilities one might say." Maxine tapped at the large data slate built into the table they were seated around. "This one is called the Simurgh, it is able to to wield telekinetic powers, to apparently predict the future, to implant unconscious suggestions on the minds of those that are within hearing range of her scream, and an ability to build strange technological devices." Maxine continued, pointing at the floating winged figure that looked as if it has been hewn from ceramite. It floated in the air above a city, doing some particularly… chaos things. Small little windows opening to show the specifics of what she had been speaking of.

"So we have a giant fucking farseer that fucked Tzeentch." Said Black, throwing his hands in the air.

"Not quite what I had in mind but that terminology works as well." Said Maxine, her voice amused.

"So what's next?"

Maxine did her arcane magic again, turning the data slate to show what looked to be a large… lizard of some kind. "This is called Leviathan, it has control over water and has the ability to survive under the water indefinitely. Unlike the previous, this one has the ability to fight in close combat, its strikes rate at approximately that of an Imperial Knight." Said Maxine, showing the bio-titan demonstrating its powers, smacking about the heroes. They died, rather splattery-like. Not the worst that Black had ever seen but it was certainly unique. Usually, things that size tended to go for the crushing or the slicing, the swatting was rather strange.

Then again, if one tried to swat a Space Marine, they would just get up again. Something told Black that the people of this universe had not met Space Marines before.

"So this one's just an overgrown lizard… with Warp powers."

"You're reaching there Sergeant Black." Said Maxine, taking malicious joy in his failing.

"And the last?"

Maxine did her thing again and am image came before them, of a large monstrous… humanoid figure that looked like the surface of some volcanic death world.

"This is Behemoth, complete control over electromagnetic radiation if our guesses are correct." She said.

"Looks like something the Orks would build."

"Not everything ugly is because of the Orks Sergeant, your bias is showing."

"Can you blame me? Nasty buggers can't even build a straight line." He replied.

"Well, it is not as if they had your architectural brilliance designing it for them." She retorted. Black frowned before giving up, she had more weapons in this kind of fight.

"Ok, so how do we kill it?" Asked Black, brow furrowed at the idea of slicing its neck. He was good, but he wasn't titan chopping good.

"With generous application of artillery and Lasguns." Said the Krieger Lieutenant. His voice as dull and monotonous as ever.

"With our current arsenal, it would be quite impossible. I'm afraid that we will have to seek out other avenues of attack. Hurosius?" Maxine waved her hand at the tech priest that was strangely silent. Probably looking at toasters again.

"Hngh hurr uth." He sputtered, head shooting up.

"Back with us?" Maxine smiled, in that way of hers that said she found this incredibly amusing.

"Hngh yes. Never left." He said. As senior most of the Engiseers present, he was seated at the table. At the same time, he was also a senior Adept of the Mechanicus, a bit of insanity was a given.

"I'll give you a moment to go over your logs." Maxine said, leaning back in her chair.

The others around the table sat and listened to the clacking that was Hurosius checking his internal logs and reading the transcripts of the conversation so far.

"Ah yes. I would recommend a large dose of extreme firepower, of the Vortek and Singularity kind fired from a Death Strike launcher specifically. Our augur scans have shown us that these "Endbringers" do not quite obey the laws of reality." He said after a pause, voice rather excited at the idea of using the "big guns".

"So basically daemons but without the mind fucking."

"Not quite Sergeant. It would be more appropriate to compare it too… a neutron star." Hurosius said, nodding as he did so.

"What?"

"Are you alright Hurosius?" Maxine asked.

"No no, you see, these "Endbringers" have bodies that become increasingly dense as one delves into them. At the rate it moves at, we can predict that it has the mass of a very large neutron star." Hurosius explained. "Our Augers have attempted to breach the outer layers of those that we have found, but it is proving difficult, limited as we are."

"Ok, so let's start from the beginning. What the hell is a neutron star?" Said Black, massaging his temples as he did so. This amount of thinking was far beyond what he was used to.

"It is what happens when a star goes into the stage or becoming a red giant where it will have the possibility of shedding its exterior and compressing further. The densest material in the universe barring black holes." Interjected Maxine, forestalling Hurosius' more indepth and more elaborate explanation. They did not quite have the time to learn how stars were born, not if Black was going to ask if he could stab it.

"So we need some kind of starkiller." Black said, not his area of expertise. Killing people, killing Orks, killing Chaos Space Marines, killing Tyranids, all his thing. Killing stars? Not so much.

"We currently do not have a Vortek Missile in our armoury, nor do we have a Deathstrike launcher to send one out. Our other option is to use a psyker of sufficient strength. Which we do possess in the form of the Princess." Said Hurosius, his optical piece flashing red as it ran an inventory on what was present.

"Well, that's out of the question, she's barely able to coordinate her arms and legs. Can't even imagine her trying to kill stars." Said Black, his head trying to wrap around the idea of the Princess not tripping over herself trying to a stalk. "She's got a ways to go before I'm going to let her leave the base. Like a newborn Space Marine she is." He said.

"Well, something to worry about at a later date then. It is not something urgent that we must consider, not as of yet. What is more important to consider is the local situation. Black?" Maxine asked, Black's Catachans had been sneaking throughout the entire city, tracking everything, searching for everything, gather intelligence in essence. They had returned yesterday after a week in the city, after killing off the complications that had decided to torture the Princess, the Catachans had spread themselves out. A few had returned again, more permanent information gathering methods being established for the long term.

The situation was not on the level of an underhive's politics and ganger situation, but it was not the same as an Agri World either. This was… interesting. A city that was split in 3 by the different factions with a fourth in the shadows.

"If we're looking at the city, the locals call it "Brockton Bay", a moderately sized city for an Agri World, 3 major factions. The first is the local law enforcement, their form of super powered Arbites, and 2 factions that focus on their skin colour as a defining feature. All of them have beings called "capes" in their ranks which are humans that have had mutations to their brains which allow them to use powers. Each power is unique and offers varying levels of utility." Said Black, leaning back after he was done.

"Discriminating based on race? How… primitive." Said Maxine, her face twisted with distaste.

"What of these 'capes' as they are called?" She continued, leaning forward, tapping at the data slate.

"They begin as normal people that undergo a 'trigger event' that gives them their powers. These trigger events are usually something traumatic in nature. They will then keep their powers and they don't appear to tap into the Warp as we initially thought. Each power seems to draw from an unlimited source of energy, the body is the only thing that faces exhaustion but it is unknown if this is consistent." Said Black.

"So we have gangs led by what amounts to psykers without the threat of corruption, but retaining all of the mental deficiencies that come with being a psyker, building their little kingdoms?" Maxine asked, her voice distinctly irritated.

"Yes, pretty much."

"They need to be dealt with. The Princess requires a calm state of mind to learn and continue to grow. We do not have the manpower to engage them at this current moment in time, but if we ask, the Princess will likely draw in more of our comrades in order to assist in the task of defending the Princess. We will have to start with reinforcing this network before we secure the area from aboveground. Once that is done, we will have to begin looking to the factions in the city and how we will deal with them." Maxine said, outlining a basic plan of action on a map of the city. "Any questions?"

"Hey, don't look at me. I got my rank because I'm good at stabbing things, not because of my battle plans." Black said, arms open wide.

"I hear and obey." Said the Krieger Lieutenant, his voice dull. He and his regiment were not known for their innovative ideas or creativity in general except when it came to building fortifications.

"I am an engiseer, I will leave the combat to you organics until the Skitarii arrive." Said Hurosius.

Plan sorted, they stood up and began working on the plan. First, defence, second offence. Rather complicated as far as Imperial Guard plans went considered Black.

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George12

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Nov 17, 2016

#16

Lieutenant 93#8219 of the 1948th Regiment was over his head. Quite literally in this case as he was underground, in the metaphorical sense as well. He had been given command over nearly 20 squads of Krieg Guardsmen.

For a platoon leader that was meant to be leading 5 squads at the maximum, leading 14 was far beyond what he was used to.

At the same time… they were Kriegers, they didn't need a platoon leader for something as mundane as building defences and setting up a defensive position in the underground of the city, without the enemy attacking them or was even aware of them.

For the Kriegers, they had an almost genetic disposition to fortifying a position, whenever they had a spare moment, a Krieger would almost unconsciously begin filling sandbags or even working on further ceramite smoothing.

For Princess Base, this meant that it was constantly expanding downward, sideways, widening corridors, installing turrets, setting up checkpoints, collapsable points, turning it into one of the most heavily defended points on the planet. Give them another few weeks or more Kriegers and it would be enough to make even the Kriegers back in the home galaxy proud.

The Engiseers were not doing nothing either, they were assisting in the installation of plasma cannon turrets, multi-las turrets, heavy bolter turrets, heavy weapons emplacements to be manned by the defenders as needed, an auger array that spread throughout the entire facility, connecting their comm-beads to a unified network. All the steps necessary to create a proper base facility.

Not only that, the Kriegers assisted in the construction of underground armouries, hangar bays, vehicle depots, barracks and more. The Princess would be bringing more of them through and they would appreciate having beds ready for them.

As of right now, however, after the meeting, Lieutenant 8219 of Batch 93 had new orders. With orders from the ranking officer of Maxine that held the post due to her honorary Captain rank as a result of her position as a Famulous Sororitas, Lieutenant 93#8219 was preparing the further fortification of the area with the intention of rapid expansion when the order came down.

They would build their defences with the aim of creating a launchpad to assault the enemy positions. 93#8219 did not really care about the enemies, all of the Imperium's enemies were the same when looking down the sights of a Lasgun. Ork, ganger, rebel, insurrectionist, eldar, some were just bigger than others, some were faster, but the Lasgun fired lasers, lasers moved at the speed of light. It didn't matter how fast you were, the Lasgun would be there waiting for you at the end.

93#8219 was what one might say was very good when it came to shooting things with his Lasgun. Knowing that their enemies were essentially psykers and gangers, well that did not worry him overmuch. They were still human and humans tended to die when their heads exploded as the water inside boiled from a Laser bolt to the head.

Sure some of them might have shields, maybe some walls, but when there was a squad of Kriegers firing down range, well there was only so much you could do to survive.

93#8219 wasn't worried about the enemy or potential enemies. The big bio-titans, were concerning, true. But he was a Krieger, he was ready to die, it was the simple reality of being an Imperial Guardsmen. He was ready to die, he was going to die, he was worried that he would die without accomplishing his mission.

His mission in this case, was to increase the fortifications of the facility. It was an issue since they had made the entire facility as fortified as it possibly could be at the moment. There was a central shaft that went directly down, tapping into the planet's core for energy. There were plasma reactors installed along the main shaft for emergency backup power. There were 11 tunnels that branched out into a radial arrangement that would allow them to better spread out to shorten the distance one needed to travel to strike at the enemy. These tunnels or rather spokes were set every 100 meters along the main shaft.

Exactly what they could do with an extra 140 Kriegers was difficult. Sure they could build, but could they defend? They would need to focus almost entirely on automated systems which were difficult to build considering there were only 4 Engiseers to oversee the entire facility. It was an issue that needed to be solved and the Princess was currently busy, which made it much more difficult.

93#8219 did not think about the fact that he could go and seek an audience with the Princess, he was a Krieger, he was not worthy.

Still, the sudden appearance of 20 squad leaders, all looking to him for direction… well, it certainly made things easier. But it also made things a little more difficult since he was now making decisions for another 20 squads of Kriegers.

This was not what he thought he would be doing. Securing a trenchline, fortifying it, fighting off attacks. Not leading a few companies of Kriegers. This was certainly not what he thought would be happening.

But he was a Krieger, he would do what was necessary.

Armsmaster or rather Colin Wallis was looking at the monitor with concern.

"Dragon?" He called out, the microphones embedded in his workroom would pick up his voice.

"Yes Colin?" She replied, an indistinct blur appeared on the screen hanging above his work desk.

"Are you seeing this?" He asked, pointing at the screen in front of him, the one that showed the seismic activity in the Brockton Bay area.

"Hmmm. Yes. Increased vibrations? Of a different pattern than anything I've seen before, but also very similar."

"Yes, it looks like an excavation process, but it's on a scale that we've never seen before. Whatever it is that is being built, it is enormous. And if I'm right, then they are digging very deep down." Said Colin. He was interested, if this was a new tinker, then he wanted to know exactly how it was that they were digging so far down, using equipment that had not tipping off any of his early Tinker warnings, requiring a manual check to see.

"Could this be a Tinker?" He asked, Dragon would have a more comprehensive list of data than him.

"Unless the Tinker is specialized in automation, then probably not. See these spikes here?" Dragon asked, a little dragon appearing on his screen, jerking its head at a particular bump on his monitor.

"Yes?"

"It's what happens when there are 2 or more smaller vibrations mixing together into a single large one." She said.

"So we're working with a new organisation?"

"Yes, it certainly looks like it. Whoever this is, is very well equipped and very well funded from the looks of it. I would hazard that a new gang has arrived in Brockton Bay." Dragon finished.

"But who would be doing this? There aren't any gangs in North America that would be doing something like this without at least making it known they were in the area to begin with." He asked to the air, leaning back in his custom made chair. A small flask was emptied into his mouth, another 5 hours of wakefulness before he needed another dose. Concentrated Caffeine and suppressants to prevent the side-effects of concentrated caffeine on his body.

"Wait. The activity is intensifying." Dragon said, her voice urgent.

Colin jerked himself up, face back in front of the monitor. Sure enough, the seismograph was jumping up, double that of the last week.

"It looks like whoever was there before was just the precursors, I would begin preparing your defences. They appear to be intensifying for some unknown reason, if they are planning a debut…" Dragon trailed off, the implications of her words running into Colin's brain.

He swore softly.

"Is there any chance that this is not located in Brockton?" She asked, concern pouring out of her voice.

"No, I checked personally. I've triangulated it myself. It's located in the residential areas to the north of the city, low income housing. The people probably don't even know that its happening under them." Colin said, checking in the webcam that he was properly dressed, Piggot was going to need to know about this.

"Well… good luck Colin." Dragon said, her voice oozing sympathy.

"Thanks, Dragon." He said, getting ready to leave.

"Wait Colin. Could this have to do with the death of Shadow Stalker?" Dragon called out.

Colin stopped in his tracks, his head buzzing with the possibilities. It certainly made sense, a sudden appearance of a new gang in Brockton that was digging a tunnel network under the city, the sudden demolition of Winslow, the killing of Shadow Stalker in her civilian identity as Sophia Hess, the killings of her 2 friends, Emma Barnes and Madison Clements. All 3 were killed with a knife cut across their throats.

"I thought that they were keeping themselves quiet, but Shadow Stalker was killed in the last week, and Winslow High was destroyed in the last week. We couldn't identify the explosives used in the Winslow incident. There is a high chance that it is a tinker of some kind. If there is a Tinker led gang making itself known in Brockton, why would they kill Shadow Stalker? They're breaking the unwritten rules." Colin said, returning to his chair, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Could it have been that tinker that triggered, destroyed her university with a tinker-tech bomb?" Dragon asked.

"Too soon, the time between her triggering and the time needed to gather enough people to dig whatever it is they are doing, is too short. Especially if she is a bomb tinker, not an automation focused tinker. She may have been recruited but it would not be her in charge." Said Colin, trying to tease out the information in his head. It was there, he was sure of it, just stubbornly staying just out of reach.

"It doesn't make sense. Why would they break the unwritten rules and kill Shadow Stalker, why would they destroy Winslow, why would they build something of that scale underneath Brockton? None of this is something that should be connected."

Colin was back on his feet now, he did his best thinking while he was on the move.

"The Winslow incident has all the hallmarks of someone trying to make their mark, likely a tinker of some kind that specialises in explosives. However, this is Brockton Bay and the only bomb tinker that we know of is from New York. Why would she come down here and destroy a school?"

Colin pulled out a piece of chalk from his suit, drawing on the blackboard behind him.

"The killing of Shadow Stalker was something that was clearly premeditated, they planned to kill her and her 2 friends and did it when all 3 were in bed at the same time. So it was not a single person who did it, but a group, one that someone tracked Shadow Stalker somehow and discovered her civilian identity before identifying her closest friends, and then killing them. This is far too deliberate and patient to be the same group that destroyed Winslow. This was done in cold blood. A message but for who?"

Colin drew another circle, it was a Venn diagram of sorts.

"Then the third group, one that is building a facility underneath Brockton that clearly employs more people than either group previously mentioned, is trying to keep themselves hidden from the world, and is planning their own debut in the near future if our guess is correct." Said Colin, drawing the third circle of his Venn diagram. None of the circles intersected.

"The only thing that ties them together is that they occurred within the last week. The motives behind each incident is completely different in every case. What exactly can we draw from this? It makes no sense Dragon."

Dragon was quiet, her own attempt at decoding the incidents likely taking her time.

"I don't know Colin, but I think you should prepare just in case the same group did all 3 incidents." She said, her voice definitive.

Colin nodded.

"Thanks, Dragon."

Have edited 8 tunnels to 11. Good pickup from the readers.

Last edited: Nov 22, 2016

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#17

Catherine D. Knight, Colonel of the Imperial Guard, 492nd Cadian Regiment stood before the Primarch at attention. Every fibre of her being in awe at the personification of the greatness of the Emperor, a personification that had personally called upon Catherine to do her duty and assist her in the conquest of this world.

The Primarch did not have her own Space Marines, it was understandable, the Imperial Guard were more than willing to do their part however. Catherine had been waiting for this opportunity since she had been called up and placed in stasis while the Primarch was growing into enough power that she could summon Catherine.

As it was, Catherine had been summoned her with her full Command Squad. There was her Master of Ordnance, her Naval Officer, her Vox Caster, her Tempestuous Scion bodyguard, and of course herself.

The only part about all of this that was not as great as she envisioned, was that she had been placed in charge of 385 Death Korps of Krieg infantry. Not including the 6 heavy weapons soldiers that had… disappeared somewhere, no doubt hugging their Heavy Bolters to sleep, the 4 Engiseers, the 5 Catachans, the Adeptus Sororitas, and the Primarch's biological father.

She had hoped that there would be other Cadians, but she could see why the Primarch had summoned the Kriegers first. They were invaluable when it came to fortifying a position, something that the infant Primarch desperately needed as she transitioned from mortal to divine. It appeared that she was ready to begin her conquest of the world, however, why else would she have summoned Catherine in the first place?

Catherine fully intended to obey and saluted before spinning and walking out of the room. She had in her enthusiasm missed her Primarchs words in their full, something that may have changed her course of action from direct combat to waiting and building up their forces. As it was Catherine was now working out the plans for the purge of the city known as Brockton Bay of the degenerate filth that inhabited it, heretics the lot of them. The civilians likely could be saved, but the gang members? They were too far gone, they needed to be purged for the good of the world.

Any who might resist the rule of the Primarch must be dealt with in the strictest of terms. There could be no possibility of dissent.

"The new Colonel… does she seem… right to you?" Sergeant Black asked Maxine as they two of them enjoyed what was likely their last peaceful cup of coffee on this planet.

On the subject of coffee, it was glorious. While they all had recaf at some point of the other, it could not compare to actual coffee, the taste, the smell, the feel on the tongue. It was just… mmmm. Superior.

Yes, it was superior.

If they could somehow smuggle a pack of the stuff back to the Imperium, they would probably be given a planet of their own for discovering such a vital new ingredient.

As it was, they were simply drinking the stuff and making every sip count. It was glorious.

"Yes. She seems very… ummm. Zealous?" Maxine said, a question at the end of her comment.

"Don't look at me, you're the Battle Sister." Black said, raising his hands away from him as he did so. It was best to avoid getting too close with a Sister that was both from the Orders Famulous and the Orders Hospitaller. A person that was both close to the Inquisition and their "methods" as well as one that knew the human body in extremely intimate detail. Something that would make even a Catachan tremble in fear, having your extremities lopped off for offending a Sister of Battle was not an uncommon occurrence after all.

"Yes. Funny. You can stop trying to escape now, I'm not as bad as my Sisters are." Maxine said, raising an eyebrow at him. It was a very pretty eyebrow Black thought, even as his other more sane self smacked him in the back of the head. Do you want your balls missing mate, she's a Sister of Battle, crazy bitches all of them.

"Riiight. I'm going to stay right here thank you very much. I like my bodyparts connected to my body. I'm rather attached to them you see." He replied, not edging away but not coming closer either.

"Ha. Ha. Yes, hilarious. I have not heard that one 50 times before. Tell me, is it standard training for all you Guardsmen to learn the same jokes?" She asked, exasperation on her face.

"Only the good ones." Black replied, grinning in spite of himself. One does not stick your dick in crazy. Oh right.

"Anyway back to the good Colonel, she is very… enthusiastic. One might say too enthusiastic. I believe it would be a good idea to see exactly what it is she is planning to do. It would not be a good idea to have her drag the Princess into anything because she went off prematurely." The last bit was said with a drawl and a particular look of the eye that had Black shrinking in on himself. He wasn't planning on sticking his dick in crazy, but the implied insult still hit hard.

"Emperor damn it! What in the 7 hells do you think you're doing?!" Shouted Sergeant Black.

"I am formulating a plan in which we can engage the enemy and secure this city for the Primarch." Said Colonel Knight, her voice filled with indignation. Catachans were notoriously anti-authority, but this was a bit much! If she had a commissar here, he would sort out the Catachan right quick.

"The Princess is trying to lay low! Going out right now is just going to expose her to danger. She's not even able to fight a human right now, and you want her to lead your glorious little charge into hell? The girl hasn't even killed anything before!" Black shouted, poking his finger in her face. Which was much more intimidating than it sounded, considering that Black was about a head and a half taller than her and nearly twice as broad.

"We are the Imperial Guard, there is nothing that we cannot defeat if we put our minds to it." Sniffed Colonel Knight, refusing to budge.

"We are the Imperial Guard, but this isn't the Imperium. We don't have regiments to call on for reinforcements if things go south. What we have here, is what we got. Those Kriegers? They are all we have!" Roared Black, trying to get her to face the facts. They didn't have tens of thousands of men to work with, not like back in the Imperium.

"300 men is more than enough to secure this city." She said. Still refusing to see his point.

"And what of the rest of this continent? They still have a ruling government here, with soldiers and heavy weapons. They have artillery and armoured vehicles Colonel, we don't have jack shit except a few Krak grenades and turrets inside this base." Black continued, mercilessly jabbing his point into her.

"The Primarch told me to!" Exclaimed Knight, bringing out her trump card.

"Did she now? Are you sure of that." Drawled Maxine, drawn in from the sidelines. If the Colonel had heard wrongly, she needed to be told now, if her student was foolish enough to order an attack with such limited forces… well, they would be having words. Not the pleasant kind either.

"Yes!"

"Um… Colonel." The Vox Operator spoke up, his face uneasy.

"What is it George, can't you see I'm busy here?" Knight tried to brush him away.

"Um… the Primarch just said that you should take command of the Kriegers and coordinate them better to take the load off their Platoon Commander that was in charge till now." Said George, pouring his words out in a rush.

"I… I…" Knight's face grew increasingly red at the revelation that perhaps she had gone off half cocked.

"Next time Colonel, I recommend listening to the Primarch in more detail. She is not what we are used to as Imperials." Said Maxine, kindly patting the sputtering Colonel on the shoulder.

"Then what do I do with all these plans?" Asked Knight.

"Please, continue with them. When the Primarch is strong enough to summon more troops, then we can look at them again and see about taking the city. Remember, we have an entire world to take Colonel. This city is just the first step and we don't have anyone else to call on to support us in this endeavour." Said Maxine, walking away. Black took a moment to appreciate the view before dragging his attention back to the despondent Colonel.

"Aye, it's not so bad. We all have the same problems once in awhile. Just make sure you pay attention to the wee girl and it's all going to be ok." Said Black, awkwardly patting her on the back before walking out again.

Following the informal reprimand, Colonel Catherine D. Knight worked with an increasing fervour to ensure that the facility was brought up to scratch. While the Kriegers were indeed masters of siege warfare, they often tended to repeat the same design over and over as they built, the same choke point being repeated ad infinitum, the same deathtrap corridors, the same turret placement, all of it being horrendously obvious to an attacker once they reached a certain point.

Catherine was going to change it up, make sure that the base was randomized enough that any attackers would need to slog through an ever changing set of defences, all the while fending off attacks from blind angles.

She hailed from Cadia after all, the home of the Kasrs, entire cities built and designed in such a way as to make the entire city a fortress. One that would be able to resist almost indefinitely against any kind of enemy, more commonly the Chaos raids and invasions that wracked the world on occasion.

Should a Kasr be attacked, they would need to first penetrate into the city through the walls, then they would need to navigate the mazes that were the streets of the city, while the defenders used shortcuts and murderholes to engage them as they tried to move. All the while artillery would be called upon their heads and airstrikes along perfectly planned road-lengths occurred with a mind numbing regularity.

While she did not have the same resources here as she did on Cadia, she did have the Kriegers who were masters of building defensive fortifications. One brainstorming session later (or rather she threw out ideas and the Kriegers said yes or no to the ideas), and she was ready with a plan for the most defensible base outside of a Space Marine's homeworld or Terra itself.

The design would incorporate a vast network of powered ramps, elevators, and stairs. All of it to both confuse the attacker, allow the defender swift movement through the facility, and most importantly, to prepare for the attack that would be happening soon. Catherine was still hopeful that she would be able to implement her plan to take the city in the near future, she didn't want her efforts to be wasted.

That and more importantly she didn't want to look like a fool in front of the Primarch and by extension the Emperor. She needed to prove herself and taking the city would do just that. Hopefully, the Primarch would remember her later and maybe even deign to talk to her on a casual basis.

For someone raised on Emperor worship, Catherine was very much someone who was rather star-struck when thinking about the Primarch. No doubt she would be in for a very nasty surprise once she discovered what the Primarch was actually like, but that was for another day. A day that did not include her being embarrassed by her failure, something she thought she had worked out of her system decades ago.

Catherine D Knight took the opportunity to squat in a corner and wallow in shame before continuing with her work.

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Nov 17, 2016

#18

93#8219 was finally relieved. He had Sergeant Black of the Catachan Jungle Fighters bring forth his concerns with the Princess and she had called in a Regimental command squad and several more Platoon Command Squads.

While the Regimental Commander was a Cadian, 8219 didn't hold that against the man/woman/thing. The Cadian did possess more tactical flexibility than the Kriegers, it was known.

And so it was that the Regimental Commander with her retinue of Commissar, Sanctioned Psyker and Tempestuous Scion bodyguard arrived and immediately set about ensuring the viability of the base itself.

While the Kriegers were masters of the defence and of fortifying positions, their expertise when it came to the attack was trench warfare and sieges. None of which was applicable here in this city where it was much more open than a Hive city's Underhive, not quite as open as an Agri World's fields.

They would be manoeuvring but had no chimeras or tauroxs to do it with. Standard doctrine no longer applied as they were forbidden from levelling the city with artillery as was standard.

Frustrating.

It was a good thing then that the Cadian officer was well versed in handling situations like this and formulated for them a plan of attack.

First, they would secure the area known as the Docks, a means of ensuring the enemy could not escape over the water. Second would be to fortify the area and dig in. Once they had sufficient numbers for an overwhelming rolling advance, they would take the city itself in one strike. It had been a month since the Colonel had arrived and they finally had the numbers for it. 3 prongs of Kriegers, surround and destroy.

While they did not have vehicles as of yet, the distance that they would be walking was rather short compared to that of a Hive city. Barely a few kilos when it came down to it.

The Princess had been convinced to call in several Grenadier Squads, Krieg Grenadiers. They would be leading the way, ready to tear apart anything in their way with liberal use of frag grenades and Hellgun Lasguns.

93#8219 was quite pleased with the way things had turned out. He had a superior officer again to point him in the direction of the enemy and leave him to worry about how to kill them. With bayonet and lasgun, but it was the choice that mattered. Maybe even a grenade if he was feeling generous.

He and his Platoon were ready, waiting at one of the ramps situated to the southern edge of the base. 55 Imperial Guardsmen, all ready to bring the fury of the Emperor upon his enemies. Or rather the fury of the Princess in this case.

5 infantry squads, 1 grenade launcher per squad, 1 flamer or plasma gun depending on their preferences and of course his Platoon Command Squad.

They all had Krak grenades as well as the standard frag. One of the factions present in the city had an Engiseer of some kind and they had to be prepared for her possible appearance. As much as #8219 would have preferred a Leman Russ, the battle tank was currently missing from their depots.

A molded skull had its eye sockets light up red. The light flooding the previously pitch black waiting area.

It was time.

The floor began to tilt upwards, joined by the ceiling doing the same. The ramp angled itself up, connecting to the outside world. The Kriegers didn't notice anything different really, their all purpose rebreathers giving them the same stale air as before.

And so they marched. There would be 10 squads left to defend the facility, the other 25 and their command squads were being deployed. The Docks would be theirs by the end of the night.

As they marched out of the ramp, #8219 reflected that it would be rather easy if things were as predicted. Unfortunately, it usually did not.

Flashes of light, beams of red cutting, the sky open.

The Imperial Guardsmen fired their Lasguns at the attacking filth. #8219 stared at them through the lenses of his respirator. They were madly rushing forward in what must have been a few dozen of them. It was enough to make them appear to be intimidating but in actuality caused them to suffer even more greatly than what would otherwise have occurred.

If they had not acted like cultists (without the pink and red and the moaning of pleasure), the Kriegers would have used their non-lethal stun setting on the advancing rabble. Instead, well honed reflexes ingrained in them over years of combat against the Great Enemy had them in firing positions, engaging the perceived cultists the second they came screaming at them.

Oh well. It would hopefully prove to be a lesson for those that came after. They picked their way through the bodies... or what was left of the bodies.

Hopefully. They resembled cultists in their drooling and failure to recognize superior forces, perhaps they would demonstrate the same level of suicidal insanity. One never knew when it came to cultists.

#8219 continued to fire at the next wave of Cultists, motioning for 1st squad to shift around the left flank near the water and encircle them. The faster they ended this, the faster they would be able to begin fortifying the position and maybe set up one of the heavy weapons teams to cover the long expanse of dock that was to their south. They did not have enough men to fully secure the entire docks as of yet, they would be leapfrogging south as soon as the fortifications of an area had been completed. They would leave a squad and move south, jumping over a currently fortifying platoon.

In this manner, they would be able to secure the Docks, hopefully by the end of the night. There were 5 platoons roughly, enough for them to wage a minor war should they so choose.

Behind him came the sound of a rocket of some kind. Turning #8219 looked at what appeared to be a construction frame, supported by 4 retro-rockets. In front of which stood an Engiseer, #8219 wasn't sure which one, they tended to look the same honestly.

It was a large construction, around the same height as he was and roughly twice his width, a turret of some kind most likely. The Engiseer began to chant and the entire system activated, small mechadendrites and mechanical arms emerging from the frame and pulling it so that each minor crate was in the correct orientation with the other crates. From there sounds of welding and riveting could be heard from inside, the entire turret being assembled from the parts dropped in a haphazard heap from the sky.

Once it was done, the outer frame fell away, revealing a pintle mounted multi-las mounted on a portable turret, the entire thing was quad-linked, all the better to destroy the enemy with overwhelming firepower.

It activated, the skull mounted in the center of the turret, nestled in the middle of the 4 multi-las barrels flashed red, the eyes lighting up. From there it flashed green, signalling that it identified #8219 as an ally, It flashed yellow again and swivelled to meet the cultists who were now dramatically reduced in number. Only 20 of them left at this point. The turret did not care and the 4 lasers fired in an alternating pattern, crack crack crack crack. The rate of fire was enough that #8219 could not differentiate between individual shots, neither could the cultists. They began exploding from left to right as the lasers caused the water in their bodies to vaporize, taking the flesh along with it. Given the rate of fire of the multi-las well, there wasn't anything left behind when it finally stopped firing, a bare 5 seconds after it had identified foes.

They had all been using very primitive sluggers of some kind, not able to pierce the coats that the Kriegers wore. Then again their coats were made with ceramite plates and kevlar sewn into them for added protection in the furious melee that was trench warfare. #8219 took a moment to admire the handiwork of the turret before turning back to his platoon, they needed his attention.

To #8219 rear, sides and front were the sounds of digging. The last of the cultist-alikes had been wiped out and the Kriegers were not digging in. Their entrenching tools making short work of the ceramite under their feet. Why it was that mere shovels could pierce ceramite did not enter #8219 head, it was just how the world should be. It certainly made sense did it not? Tool is plasteel, plasteel beats ceramite.

They were using the material to fill up sandbags which were being placed around the trench system that was being dug. It was not their best work, the entire thing being a haphazard stop-gap, but it would stop anything up to and not including a concentrated armoured assault. They didn't have the firepower at hand to engage one of those. The Kriegers were also refusing to question why it was that they were able to fill the sandbags with the ceramite, the sandbags acting as if they were actually filled with sand and not large pieces of hard rock-like substances. At the same time, where were they getting the sandbags from? The 55 of them had used most likely several hundred by this point and they were not wearing their standard issue marching packs.

It was a question that would be asked perhaps one day, a question that had a very simple answer (for them at least. Everything was "requisitioned". The turret from the sky, the sandbags, their seemingly limitless supply of ammunition, all of it was requisitioned. Simple really).

#8219 surveyed his domain and was pleased. Yes, this would do for a temporary installation.

Looking to his men, he motioned with his arm, an "advance" signal of a kind.

5th squad was left behind, they would be defending the position with the assistance of 2 more turrets that had been placed down by the Engiseer, a storm bolter turret and another multi-las turret. Any infantry and light armour assaults would be facing some very dangerous equipment.

In the time that the platoon had been digging and securing the area, 4 more platoons had leapfrogged past them, securing their areas and then fortifying just as #8219 platoon had been doing. Now it was their turn as they swiftly moved down the Docks, keeping away from the waters edge in case that Endbringer they had been briefed on showed up. It might not do anything, but there was always the chance that it would do something. It was best to play it safe and keep away from the water just in case.

As they moved down the sound of lasgun fire became more intense, the cracks of a single rifle intermingling with the sounds of several dozen more. The Kriegers were engaging a large force of some kind.

#8219 signalled the platoon to shift into a combat run, their bodies hunched over as to avoid being taken out before they reached the enemy. That would be particularly shameful. #8219 was very much willing to do all he could to avoid that particular problem, he had not completed his mission as of yet.

What greeted the platoon (minus a squad) was a partially dug in 4th platoon that was engaging what appeared to be a large contingent of cultists and a… tank of some kind. In all honesty, it looked more like a battlewagon that the Orks would consider to be an armoured vehicle. What was being displayed to them was the very height of crudeness, of failure one might say. It was what one might call a vehicle if they had no pride in their work or their abilities.

If the Engiseers saw it, they might go apoplectic with anger.

The burst of static behind #8219 told him that it was too late. The Engiseers had been refraining themselves admirably with all the tech heresy that the people of this planet practised, but what they were seeing was simply too much.

They were within optimal range to engage from, #8219 motioned to the platoon to take the right flank. They would concave the enemy and destroy them with superior firepower.

For the Princess.

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Nov 17, 2016

#19

Collin Wallis or rather Armsmaster was responding to a report that there was tinker tech weaponry being deployed in a gang fight at the Docks. Alongside him were the Wards, Clockblocker, Aegis, Vista, and Kid Win. There were senior PRT members as well, Velocity and Miss Militia for now a bit further behind but close. Assault and Battery were making their way over but it would be a while, their patrol had taken them to the West of the city, far away from the Docks where the incident was taking place.

Alongside the heroes was the Protectorate's response team, this one being made of regular unpowered humans but armed with their foam canisters and non-lethal weaponry.

It was hoped that it would be over by the time that they got there, but there was no guarantee, not if it was a fight between Tinkers. The report itself had been unclear, something about lots of lasers and a big ramshackle truck-like design.

The PRT had guessed that it meant that a new Tinker that was not Kid Win was fighting against the Merchants… and making enough of a noise to be heard from 3 blocks away. Armsmasters sped up his motorcycle, he would need to get there soon since it sounded far too much like it was an army of Tinkers and not just one.

He hoped that it was a new trigger, if he managed to recruit them into the Wards, it would be another mark next to his name for his promotion up the ladder.

As much as he hated the bureaucracy that was involved in his job, it was also necessary, the most efficient path to reach where he wanted to be, especially if he wanted to enact the changes that he considered to be necessary to the Protectorate. While he wasn't allowed to be part of the PRT itself, due to the clause of non-powered humans only, he would at least have enough influence to push through ideas through those who supported his ideas.

More automation, less officers being injured or dying in the line of duty to start off with, then possibly the capture of criminals without needing to risk anyone at all. He had seen too many PRT members going home, crippled, missing body parts, or just dead at the hands of super villains that used his jail cells as a hotel. It had eased when Panacea had begun to help, but it wasn't enough when they were already dead or traumatised due to their experiences.

Armsmaster shook off his thoughts, calling his primary halberd from its container at the rear of the motorcycle, cycling it to the standard cutting, stun setting. He didn't want to kill anyone unless he absolutely needed to.

Above him were Kid Win, Aegis, and Vista, travelling over the rooftops either by flying or running. Clockblocker was sharing Kid Win's hover board, there had been no time to find a more elegant solution to their problem, they had needed to be here and they needed to be there as soon as possible.

Luckily all of them had been on patrols in the area, making it a matter of just converging on the location that the incident had been reported at.

"Wards, do not engage unless I give the order. We don't know what power these lasers are at." Said Armsmaster, he did not need another dead Ward on his record. Even if they were under Piggot's authority, they were linked to him in the public consciousness. They had been able to hide Shadow Stalker's death, a transfer to another zone being the excuse, but one dying in public? That was another story altogether.

"Umm… Armsmaster? I don't think we need to guess how powerful their lasers are?" Said Aegis, sounding as if he were resisting the urge to vomit. Armsmaster sped around the last corner, it was uncharacteristic of the Ward and he wanted to be able to see what prompted such a… reaction.

Oh.

Armsmaster stared at what was very clearly a gang war of some kind. Only this one was of a scale that he hadn't seen before. Never before had he seen such a large number of Tinker tech weapons being used, there must have been dozens of laser weapons, all of them in the hands of gang members that all looked exactly the same.

They were firing en-mass into the Merchants who were now breaking and running. They were breaking because of the bodies that lay all over the docks, or rather what used to be bodies. Most of them were missing significant parts of their bodies, arms, legs, chests, heads… charred skin being all that was left. To add to the gore, there was what was very clearly the remnants of these body parts smeared all over the pavement of the Dock area, something Armsmaster was very familiar with, being there when Kid Win's designs had been tested on gelatin. The resulting smears were similar but not the same.

Why?

Oh. The body fat. It rendered when the body was cooked at high temperatures and when it landed on the… no. He didn't need to think about it.

Armsmaster's eyes were then drawn to the remnants of what looked like Squealer's truck. Remnants because it was on fire with what looked like small fist sized holes all over its chassis. What could have caused… HEAT warheads. Jets of molten metal punching through… military weapons.

As he walked forward to try and perhaps talk to the new gang, an attempt to arrest them when he was at a numerical disadvantage and they had several dozen lethal weapons, was not a good idea. Some people said that Armsmaster was a glory hound, while this was true, it did not mean he was stupid. He was good, just not take on… 30 men at the same time good.

Something to his right caught his eye, however, looking more closely he took a deep breath. Instinctual really. Squealer and Skidmark were lying to the left of the truck, or rather what was left of Squealer and Skidmark, their lower halves having been burnt or lasered to ash.

Placing his halberd behind his back, Armsmaster walked over to them in the universal sign of peace, both hands in the air to the sides of his head.

"I would like to talk to your leader." He said, reading off the prompt that popped up on his HUD. Dragon really was the kind of girl to help a guy out in a pinch. While he didn't enjoy having to be nice and dare he say it… polite to this new gang that was killing the first time they had been out, he accepted that it was necessary if he wanted to survive and perhaps meet with their leader to discuss what was going on.

If a new gang was showing up and throwing around its weight, there was going to be retaliation from the other gangs, well the ABB and E88 at this point, the Merchants were finished with Skidmark and Squealer gone, Mush being unable to lead anything except his feet.

The gang members, they looked more like soldiers than anything else, looked up at him and even as he analysed them with his eyes, his helmet was recording everything he saw and streaming it to Dragon and the PRT headquarters. If he was killed, they needed to know everything they could about this new threat.

The soldier was wearing a gas mask of some kind, the hose emerging from the mouth and entering their greatcoats. They had pouches on them, likely ammunition for their laser weapons, and a few had what looked like energy weapons and grenade launchers. A few even had… flamethrowers. Flamethrowers that were shooting out flames even hotter than what an amped up Lung could put out (to be put in possible tinker technology). Flamethrowers they were now using on the bodies of the fallen merchants, burning and melting their remains.

The one he had spoken to, jerked his (her?) head to Armsmaster's left before pointing her arm at the building behind him, which he took as his cue to get moving. Back the way he came to wait at the wall it was. In the event that things went wrong, he had his motorcycle trail him on silent mode parallel to him on the road behind the warehouses. Glancing to the left, he could see the silhouettes of what looked like Vista and Clockblocker vomiting on the roof while Aegis wiped his mouth. If there was anything wrong, he needed the Wards out of here, he could break through and escape into the warehouses behind, but they were silhouetted against the night sky.

It might not matter, however if they were indeed lasers, they were going to hit instantly… well, almost instantly.

Armsmaster had been to numerous Behemoth fights and had seen similar before, the Wards however, had not. He shook his head, some things he would have preferred they not need to see ever, but this was a very cruel world that they lived in.

Activating his sub-audible microphone with a press of a pad on his wrist, he began transmitting.

"Armsmaster to all Protectorate Forces and Heroes, stay away from the docks. The new force has lethal tinker tech weaponry and they have shown their willingness to use it." He said, using the vibrations of his throat to pass the message without vocalising it. It would be particularly bad if the soldiers took offence to him transmitting a message and shot him.

As he waited near the docks, his scans of the area, accomplished by turning his head left and right, spotted some rather… strange devices. They looked to be turrets of some kind, but they had skulls on them, skulls and eagles and other iconography that he had never seen before. Things became even more confusing when he spotted a robed figure chanting in some mutilated version of binary at the turrets, worse still, the turrets responded to him. Was that their tinker?

Armsmaster was about to try and talk with the Tinker when the figure was joined by 3 others, all wearing the same robes, some with metallic tentacles coming out from under the robes, others with what looked like large cogs mounted as axes. His scans registered the axes as having a strange energy source of some kind surrounding them, one that was visible with the naked eye if he was watching closely, a kind of blue shimmer.

Armsmaster felt like he was being dragged into a strange reality where things no longer made sense. What was going on here that there would be people willing to augment themselves to such an extent? Why were all the soldiers wearing gas masks, why were they digging trenches with shovels… in solid concrete. How were they doing that? Shaker ability of some kind? But all of them triggering with the same power? Impossible.

The shovels? They were from what he could see a composition of steel that used an unknown ingredient in the mix, but even then, they shouldn't be able to cut through concrete like that.

As Armsmaster waited, his back against the wall he hoped that those watching the footage were as confused as he was. What made matters worse was that his power worked, but it said things that basically said "as efficient as possible", except when he was looking at the robed figures. They had shown up as wildly inefficient, almost criminally so. But the standard weapons they were using? Those were showing up as extraordinarily efficient, attempting to change them would actually only have minute changes in the efficiency of the weapons themselves. While he could change the casings and play around with the externals, there was nothing he could do to the innards.

The glowing energy weapons, however? Those were another level of inefficient, so much so that he was wondering how they even operated at all. It was the opposite scale of their laser weapons, this one seemingly actively trying to kill the users.

Armsmaster kept waiting, shifting minutely to ease the pressure on his shoulders, it looked like the only one that was dressed differently was going to be his meeting. He spotted what looked like a woman walking towards him, her dress very different from the standard ones. Stranger, still she didn't wear a mask, wasn't she aware of the unwritten rules?

"Greetings citizen, I am Colonel Catherine D Knight of the Princess's Personal Guard. You are the one known as the Arms Master are you not? Defender of justice?" Said the woman. A rather average height woman with red hair, pale skin, dressed in what looked to be body armour like what one might find in the military with a corget that crackled with energy, a sword at her waist, a boxy pistol device opposite that, a long coat covering her shoulders, knee high boots… like a Nazi. The strangest thing about her was her eyes, they glowed with a purple light of some kind, constantly changing pattern. He would have to get himself checked in for Master/Stranger Protocols.

She looked like a Nazi actually, the historical kind, not the recent thuggish ones.

Armsmaster could feel a headache coming on. This wasn't his area of expertise. Maybe he should wait for Miss Militia to arrive, she would know what to say.

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#21

"Yes, I am Armsmaster. What are you doing here?" Came the voice of Armsmaster from the speakers.

"Ok, pause the video." Came the voice of Director Emily Piggot. Her voice tired, her posture drooping slightly. Staying up this late, having to undergo forced dialysis, having to deal with Armsmaster, all of it added up over time.

"Armsmaster… what are you doing?" She asked, staring at the figure of the Hero to her right, the conference table arranged so that she would be at the head (naturally), while the adult heroes sat to her right and the Wards to the left. Directly opposite her, at the other end of the table was the projector that was currently showing Armsmaster's attempts to open talks with this new faction that loved their skulls, their eagles, the colour gold, had tinkertech weapons and was very willing to kill.

"I was attempting to talk peacefully to the leader of the new faction." He replied.

"And you did so by ignoring social conventions and directly asking her without attempting to build trust?" Piggot asked, her voice having given up the pretence at being angry, now she was just tired.

"It was the most efficient manner to interrogate her." Was his reply.

Piggot sighed.

"Does she answer any of your questions?" Piggot finally asked, hand wearing a furrow in her temple, she would kill herself by burrowing all the way into her skull at this rate.

"No." Armsmaster's reply was rather blunt.

"Miss Militia, you were next on the scene correct?"

"Yes. I arrived approximately 5 minutes after this point in the recording." She replied, her scarf had been pulled down, revealing her face to the assembled heroes, young and old.

"Ok, Assault, skip 5 minutes forward please." Piggot said.

"Gotcha boss."

"Without the snark?"

"Wilco boss lady."

Piggot let out a long suffering sigh before turning back to the projector, ignoring Assault for her own mental safety.

As the video skipped, this Catherine D Knight as she called herself stayed in the general area, no doubt waiting for a proper negotiator to arrive, but still ordering about the soldiers in the area. Still, her introduction as being a protector to a Princess told Piggot that there was someone higher up the chain that she was. Considering that Armsmaster tagged 100 gang members by visual sight alone with an estimated 200 involved in the attack… well, they were facing what was very clearly a large and organized force.

Especially damning since none of the actual soldiers talked once it seemed. The transcripts she skimmed over certainly lacked any mention of their speech.

The sound of footsteps filled the room as Miss Militia made herself known, her camouflage clothing and star spangled scarf around her neck.

"Good evening, I am Miss Militia, may I ask who you are?" She opened, immediately setting the other woman at ease, a miracle compared to the difference in her posture to Armsmaster and that of Miss Militia.

"I am Captain Catherine D Knight, Princess Royal Guard, Regimental Commander." She said, offering a salute to the rather bemused Miss Militia who returned it.

"So Captain, what is going on?" Miss Militia asked, waving her arm at the fortifications that were going up at a rather… impressive pace. What was a few trenches a few minutes ago had transformed into an area of land covered in barbed wire, sandbags, bunkers, turrets of all sizes, some of them were laying what was very clearly mines into the concrete.

All of this was happening without a sound besides that of shovels being shoved into sand, something that confused Piggot as there was only concrete there under them.

"We are securing this area of land in preparation for our next push into the city of Brockton Bay." Said the Captain rather straightforwardly, no attempts at deflection at all.

"Why?" Asked Miss Militia, her voice filled with a sort of bemused befuddlement. She hadn't seen the bodies as of yet, her opinion still mostly positive.

"To expel and destroy the filth that inhabit this city. To return it to a status that befits its role as a home to the Princess." Said the Captain.

"Filth?" Miss Militia was less amused now.

"Yes, the filth. The degenerates that call themselves the "gangs" of this city. In a time when humanity is beset on all sides by a foe greater than their comprehension, they instead seek to gain power, lord it over others and abuse others.

They are traitors to the human race and must be dealt with accordingly." Finished Captain Knight, her gaze straight into Miss Militia's own. Eyes that were looking at the Captain like she was a crazy person.

"You spoke of a Princess, who is she to you?"

"She is the embodiment of the God Emperor of Mankind manifested into human form." Said Captain Knight, her face perfectly straight despite what had just come out of her mouth.

"God Emperor of Mankind?" Asked Miss Militia slowly.

"Yes, by fate the God Emperor of Mankind has noticed your world and has deemed it worth saving. We will deliver it from the mutant, the heretic, and the xeno before returning it to the fold of the Imperium." Said the Captain, once again her voice was completely straight, no quiver present at all.

"If you are from another world, how did you get here?" Asked Miss Militia. Their walk had taken them on a course that passed the Dock Worker's Union building, a checkpoint of some kind had been set up in front of it. The dock workers looked rather bemused but they were presenting their identification and being let inside without a fuss.

"We were summoned through by the Princess." Said the Captain.

"Summoned? Does this mean she has control over you?"

"No, she is the Princess and so we obey, but we do not do so because we are controlled. She is the Emperor's daughter and so we obey."

"She summoned you on her own?"

"No, we were sent through by the Emperor, the Princess merely stabilizes the portal."

"And your weapons?"

"Standard issue. Every Imperial Guardsman has one of these or one like it." She replied.

"Well, enough questions, we must cut this short, we have new orders." Said Captain Knight, turning and her clenched fist slamming into her chest in salute. "It was nice talking to another soldier, perhaps next time we can talk at greater length." Said Knight in parting.

The last Armsmaster's helmet camera caught of the woman was of her disappearing into one of the trenches, trenches that were now deep enough to hide a fully grown person… in concrete… on the docks.

Piggot shook her head.

"Ok, so what do we have on them." She asked to the table. Primarily directed at Armsmaster and his contact with Dragon, but she was open to ideas. They had too few of them as it was.

"That's fucking Warhammer 40k." Shouted Clockblocker, his voice quivering with excitement.

"What?" Was Assault's reply.

"It's an Earth Aleph game."

"40k?"

"A game?"

"I don't remember any games called 40k in the public room?"

The voices inundated the young Ward, not that it mattered, he was quivering with an ungodly level of excitement. Or should he say… heretical level of excitement.

"Clockblocker!" Came the shout. He jerked and looked to his right, Piggot was staring at him. Not in the "you're awesome" kind of way, but the "if you don't tell me what is going on right now, I'll destroy your soul" kind of way. He quivered slightly and sat back down, lowering his arm while he did it.

"Explain." She said.

He looked left and right, thinking quickly as he did so.

"Ummm. Can I use the internet? It's easier if I do." Clockblocker said, his voice meek for once. This was his big chance, he wasn't going to waste it.

"What would you need the internet for?" Piggot asked, rather suspicious. Clockblocker felt offended, she didn't have to look like he was going to use his newfound internet access to do nefarious things. Nevermind that he had played pranks on them before, but this was different. This was Warhammer 40k, grimdark that made the Endbringers look fluffy by comparison.

"It's hard to explain. Ummm. Warhammer's been around for like 40 years now, there's a lot of history behind it." He said, waving his hands around to indicate the right amount of scale. It wasn't working very well if Piggot's face was any indication, but the adult heroes looked interested.

"So this Princess of theirs is some kind of master?" Piggot fiddled with the keyboard that was built into her desk.

"I'm not sure, how can we even tell at this point? Besides, they mentioned that the God Emperor sent them through, so that means they must be legit right?" Clockblocker was grinning widely as he thought of what the future could bring. Space Marines? Yes, please. He always wanted to be one of these and he was just outside the maximum age to become one, he might be able to persuade them to turn him into a post-human weapon of pure awesomeness!

"How is this in any way relevant?" She asked, staring at him again.

"Ummm. I don't know where to start?"

"At the beginning."

"Ummm. It's going to be pretty long, is that ok?" Clockblocker feebly raised his hand, he didn't want to be lectured again.

"Yes yes. Get started." Piggot waved him to start.

"So ummm. Warhammer 40k is a futuristic grimdark kind of setting. It started out as a table top game for Games-Workshop's Warhammer Fantasy, but then sort of evolved into its own thing. Now it has had like 40 years of stories and setting fleshed out and like lots of different factions all doing their own thing." Clockblocker began.

"Chances are she's a master then?" Asked Triumph.

"Let him finish," Piggot said, leaning forward on the table.

"So yea, it will take all night if I try and explain it from the beginning, but we can sort of look at the Imperium which is sort of relevant to what's going on. Ummm. Sort of have to give some background too so you can sort of understand where this is all going."

"Just how big is this thing?" Asked Aegis.

"40 years of stories, new settings and plot progression big."

"Anyway, so the setting. It's basically take everything, and make it super grim and dark, grimdark. Like Endbringers are probably a low class threat in the 40k universe for example. [He ignored the looks of shock on the faces of the Wards, usually, he would be teasing them, but this was too important!] Basically, we have the Imperium of Man which is full of humans, they have like a million worlds and quadrillions of people. They have the Imperial Guard which is their general army, which are the guys that were on Armsmaster's helmet cam. Only there was a Cadian there too… but that's for later!

"Anyway, the Imperium of Man used to rule over the entire galaxy, but something big happened and they collapse and there was a massive warp storm that shut off all space travel and communication after the Eldar had so much sex they created a new God."

"Wait. Wait. What?" Assault held up a hand. "Explain that first. Sex makes Gods?"

"Oh right, it sounds weird when you say it out loud. So the 40k universe has 2 realities that are connected to each other. It's not Bet and Aleph, the Immaterium and the Materium are linked to each other, what happens in one has an effect in the other. The Immaterium is basically all the emotions and psychic presence of all living things in the galaxy. So if you feel really happy, on the other side there's a little ripple right? So when there's an entire race of like trillions of space elves having murder sex, there's a really big ripple. And when they had enough of it, they created a new God that lives in the Warp, that's the other name of the Immaterium. The 4 Chaos Gods are just collections of certain emotions and feelings. They represent ideals.

"Like Khorne is the warrior, likes chopping heads off, Nurgle is disease and rot, Tzeentch loves to plot and do magic, and Slaanesh is all about pleasure. Other races have their own Gods too, like the Orks have Gork and Mork. Anyway, the Warp is what the people of the 40k universe use to travel around the place, they dive into it from the Materium and come out the other side, it's their version of FTL. So when Slaanesh was born, there were massive Warp Storms that meant nobody could travel, and nobody could communicate either. So the human empire sort of just fell apart." As he talked, he could see that a few of the Wards had already become lost.

"So that was like 15,000 years ago. About 10,000 years ago, a guy called the Emperor came out of nowhere and started uniting humanity on Terra, we, the, you know, fandom think that Terra is Earth. But in order to unite Earth he has to make an army of super soldiers. Like if we used numbers, they would be like Mover 7, Brute 7, Thinker 4 and there were like millions of them." There were looked of horror at that, if the Princess could summon just 3 or 4 of those… they were going to have a very bad time in the future, they were sure of that.

"Anyway so he unites Earth and then kills off all his super soldiers and makes new ones that are like Mover 6, Brute 6, Thinker 3. They're worse but follow orders better. Anyway, he makes his new army and then goes out and conquers lots of worlds in the Great Crusade that took like 300 years or something. But before he goes, he goes to the Chaos Gods and then tricks them and steals their power to make 20 children that he called Primarchs. They're all like Mover 10, Brute 10, Thinker 10, some of them even have Shaker and Master powers. Anyway, the Chaos Gods grab the baby Primarchs and throw them all over the galaxy for the Emperor to find.

"So he goes on his crusade and he's leading armies that keep growing, like billions of them. And they all have super weapons. Like laser guns are actually the standard weapon and are really weak compared to everything else in the 40k universe."

"Weak. You're saying lasers that explode people in a single shot are weak?"

"Yup. The super soldiers I mentioned earlier are called Primarchs and they wear Power Armour that's kind of like Armsmasters but even stronger! They can get shot hundreds of times and nothing happens unless they aim for a weakpoint."

A few of them looked stunned at that.

"So they go and reconquer like most of the galaxy and find lots of humans again. The problem is that half of the Primarchs betray him, bring their armies back to Terra and try to kill him. But the Emperor like destroys Horus', (he's the biggest one) soul but is nearly killed. So they put him on the Golden Throne so he can power the Astronomicon and also be kept alive at the same time. And it's been like 10 thousand years since he was put on the throne. The whole time the Imperium's sort of gone super fascist. Like the Nazis but they are racist to aliens and mutants. So that's like the super condensed version but you can like totally do your own research if you want, it's all on the internet." Clockblocker finished.

"And how do you know that this is all relevant?" Piggot asked, raising her eyebrow. The story had certainly been on the fantastical side and she really wanted it to be wrong. A master that could summon super soldiers that were better than half their heroes in strength? She didn't want to imagine what that would look like.

"Ummm. Can you give me the computer? I'll show you." Clockblocker said.

"Yes yes. Here it is." Piggot pressed a button and a holographic computer keyboard and mouse stuck up out of the table in front of him.

"Awesome."

"Yes yes. Get on with it."

"Ok… so let's start at the beginning." Clockblocker mumbled, manipulating the controls so Armsmaster's helmet cam footage was where he first saw the soldiers.

"Ok, so those things they have in their hands? Those are lasguns. Here, let me bring up a drawing. Clockblocker searched for the Lexicanum page for Lasguns and showed both of them side by side. See? They're the same." He said, showing everyone in the room the similarities. By zooming in on the closest soldier's lasgun, he showed that they were indeed extremely similar.

"And then there's these guys, they're called the Death Korps of Krieg. Like super brainwashed, suicidal guys that aren't even given names since they all die really quickly anyway." Clockblocker said, doing the same as with the lasguns, bringing up a page where the Death Korps of Krieg's real life variant was situated next to the one on the Lexicanum page. Both hat the distinctive respirators, the grey clothing, and were extremely dour and barely ever spoke.

"Then there's these guys. They're called the Adeptus Mechanicus, and they handle all of the technology in the Imperium since if you handle technology wrong, it can explode on your if you don't make its "machine spirit" happy." Clockblocker skipped forward until he saw the robed figures hunched over the little turret. "The little tentacles things are called mechadendrites and they can do everything. Like, stick a gun on it, or a welding torch, or a wrench. They connect them to their bodies and like try to replace all their organs with metal." A few of them looked a little sick at that.

"You can tell it's Imperium stuff since everything has eagles and skulls on it. Here look on the turret, on the axe things they have, on the lasguns, on some of their helmets…" Clockblocker zoomed into each little example as he continued. "They really love their skulls and eagles in the Imperium, it's on all of their stuff, even their ships and houses."

"Then there's these guys. The one that Armsmaster was talking to was a Cadian. They have purple eyes since they live so close to the Eye of Terror. Their armour is like the standard design for all Imperial guard stuff. She even has the personal shield that officers wear."

"Ok… so either we're looking at someone that's outfitted a gang to look exactly like this 40k stuff and a tinker that has a 40k focus, a Master that can summon these 40k guys along with all their weapons, or this God Emperor dude has like sent them across into our universe for shits and giggles." Drawled Assault, leaning against Barricade as he spoke, trying to provoke her into prodding him or something.

"Why did I get up this morning." Moaned Piggot.

Spoiler: AN

173

George12

Nov 17, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 03

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 17, 2016

#22

Missy Biron, known as Vista, her Ward name was walking home from school. Or rather she was putting off the walk home until she was sure her mother had stormed out of the house and she would sneak in, grab a change of clothes and make her way over to Protectorate ENE Headquarters, the big building that was home to the local Wards as well as the Protectorate. While inside, she was essentially free of the problems at home, could see Gallant or rather Dean in his civilian identity.

Inside it wasn't that bad, it had food, a television, videogames, a small library and all the little things that made life easier when one was isolated from the rest of the world. Missy felt a little bug trapped in a cage. She was only a Ward since it had given her an escape from the life at home, one that was so tense that if she used her powers, it would probably snap and kill them all. Almost reality warping to the scale of her power, only in terms of emotions instead of physical changes.

The second reason she was with the Wards was that she could see Dean on a regular basis, both in school and while she was at the Protectorate's HQ. Those were the only real perks really, the presence of Shadow Stalker had killed her motivation of being part of the team before this point, despite the fact that Shadow Stalker was nothing but meat if Vista really wanted to use her powers. She hadn't, she had wanted to be part of the group, to belong and that had backfired. It was a good thing that the rest of them hated Shadow Stalker being around as well, enough that Missy hadn't felt the urge to leave the Wards and remained.

Now that Shadow Stalker was dead, however… well, it made things easier but it didn't alleviate her other frustrations. That of the fact that she was so very capable compared to the rest of them, she had been a Ward longer than any of them and yet due to her age, was relegated to support duties. If she really wanted, she could take any of them on… well maybe not Aegis, his healing abilities meant she would be tired out long before she could beat him into the ground. But it was the thought that counted.

And so it was that Missy Biron was walking over to the shopping mall, ready to waste a few hours before walking home and then to the Protectorate HQ. She didn't have any patrols until later that night, so she had time to kill. Metaphorically that was, she left the real time killing to Clockblocker.

Missy had to make sure that she watched where she was going. Being 12 didn't have to mean that you were short, but in her case it certainly did. She barely reached the chests of most average height people and it was frustrating in the extreme. She had to give way and that meant her journey through the city was one where she was constantly weaving in and out of foot traffic, constantly having to give way, her height an enemy, her inability to use her powers a frustration.

Missy growled under her breath, this wasn't what she needed right now. She wanted to do some window shopping, maybe forget the mess that was her life at this moment in time, and she really wanted to not be giving way to all these normal fucking people. Didn't they know all that she did for them? The wounds she had taken? The effort that she had gone to keep them safe, to let them walk around with their heads in the clouds, instead of cowering away from the Empire or the ABB?

Missy felt part of her frustration rise to the surface again, knowing that she was so capable, knowing what her powers meant, knowing that she could be doing so much more. Knowing that she would be stuck behind every time regardless, that her teammates couldn't appreciate her abilities, thinking that she was less than capable, that she was unable to contribute in a real fight. That she was a tiny little girl. Her mind spat out the word with all the vehemence that she could muster.

She took a deep breath, this wasn't what she was meant to be doing, the counsellor she was seeing because of her parent's divorce, and unofficially because having a Ward breakdown was very bad publicity, had said she needed to channel her anger in some way. Only Shadow Stalker was dead, so she couldn't break her fists in that smug bitch's face, and the punching bags at the Protectorate HQ were off limits. She didn't want Dean to see her crushing the bags, it would probably scare him off. She hadn't given up hope, once Glory Bitch dumped him, she would be ready to catch him (with her powers), and give him all the tender attention he deserved.

But right now? Right now she needed something to ease her frustrations. Window shopping wasn't going to cut it anymore, she needed something more substantial. She couldn't even find and use a thug as stress relief, she wasn't allowed to go on solo patrols since it was so dangerous. She sneered as she thought of the condescending way that Piggot had said that. Stupid bitch didn't know what Missy could do, and she couldn't show them. Not unless she wanted to out herself as a girl that really really needed to beat someone down in front of Dean.

She was acting like an innocent and nice girl, a very nice girl, one that was all sunlight and rainbows and spring blossoms in front of the Wards, couldn't have word of her real personality leaking out now could she? That would defeat the purpose of lying about her motivations and actual personality in the first place. She wasn't stupid, not like that bitch Shadow Stalker. Making everyone hate you was the most stupid thing she could have done, people that actually liked you would be more willing to help, more willing to do something to find her killer. As it was, the cursory investigation had shown up with nothing and it was going to continue showing nothing, nobody liked her enough to put effort into it. The officials might, but the Wards weren't.

Maybe… just maybe. Ah.

A sign caught her eye, that was new.

It was a martial arts dojo of some kind, "Jungle Fighting 101". That sounded completely ridiculous, but if it had some sandbags she could punch, maybe she could join up and ignore the idiots who ran it and just hit things until it was time to leave for the Protectorate HQ and her mission.

Yes, this was a good idea.

Missy headed into the place, itself just a plain white building that still had a sign from the previous store hanging in front of it. "Dimma's Chicken" in bright neon lights. Or rather dull neon lights, the power hadn't been turned on, logical really. Missy had never actually been inside, but apparently it hadn't been so bad in there.

The Jungle Fighting sign hung in front of the store, a little piece of cloth with the words painted vertically on it right over the entrance. It had been hard to read the words, whoever wrote them did so with the shakiest handwriting, or rather hand painting skills she had ever seen. Even she could do better.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to go inside to have a look.

Missy walked in and was greeted by a man who wasn't wearing a shirt. A man that… was fucking ridiculous. What the actual fuck.

Missy could only stare at him, spellbound. Her crush on Dean had taken a bit of a hit, the man in front of her must have been 2 meters tall and had the most well developed and toned muscles she had ever seen. His entire body must have been just pure muscle, but it wasn't overdone, all of it looked like it was naturally part of his body. Every bit of skin was tight, showing the individual sinews of the muscles if she looked closely enough, the lack of hair on his chest showing those absolutely delicious pectorals.

She was 12, but she was in the middle of puberty (why else would she be crushing on the boy wonder Dean?), but this… this blew the competition out of the water. Missy took the chance to discretely check out the rest of him, taking her mind off his absolutely amazing chest for a second and was disappointed to see that his legs were covered by what looked like military fatigues. Sort of like what Miss Militia wore, but these looked a lot thicker than the stuff Miss Militia did. As if they were designed for actual Jungle Fighting.

"What can I do for you girl?" Came the voice, and oh my. That was the deepest and sexiest voice she had ever heard, even Armsmaster going on 60 hours without sleep didn't compare. The way it rumbled just shook all of her bones just the right way.

Vista decided then and there that she would be signing up for this place, actual capabilities of the instructors and their stupid sign be damned. She was a girl that needed some time to relieve herself of the stress that came from living with a family on the brink of open warfare, of being in a team where she had to hide her true bloodthirsty, cuss mouthed real persona behind that of a sweet summer child. She deserved something to ease that stress, and if it was as harmless as ogling a few good looking, or rather fantastic looking men, she was all for it.

"Well, what is this place?" She asked, putting on her air of innocence. She didn't need to show her true self, not just yet at any rate.

"The sign on the door says it all." He replied. He walked over to her, from around the desk (she had been using her powers to ogle at him), and pointed over her head, lording his height over her. Then again he would be lording his height over everyone he was that tall.

"Jungle fighting 101?" Vista raised her eyebrows at that. "What does that even mean?" She asked, putting as much questioning in her tone of voice as she could.

"It means we teach you how to fight in a jungle." He replied, answering her own eyebrow with his own.

"There aren't any jungles in America, what is the point of learning to fight in a jungle when it's not applicable?" Missy asked, using some big words to test just how smart he was. Or rather testing if he knew the words at all, it was ok if he didn't, dumb tall muscle hunks were the same as smart tall muscle hunks.

"Skills transfer girly, a jungle of wood is the same as a jungle of concrete when it boils down to it." He replied, lifting an eyebrow at her.

Missy felt the urge to retort that a city was in no way similar to a Jungle, that was one of the most ridiculous, things she had heard. It was up there with the poetry that some idiots used to try and get Glory Bitch's attention.

"Well if I sign up now, when can you get started teaching me and how much does it cost for a lesson?" She asked, her allowance from the Wards would let her afford this, assuming it wasn't ridiculous. Then again given their sign, it was highly likely it wasn't expensive at all.

"$50 a month, we can get started right now." He replied, grinning at her. Like he thought she wouldn't be able to handle it.

Missy glared at him, she hated being looked down on. Literally and metaphorically, she was going to make him regret eyebrowing her.

"Done. Let's get started!" Missy said, pulling out a $50 note from her backpack and slapping it on the desk to her right.

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Nov 17, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 04

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 17, 2016

#23

Missy Biron panted, her breath coming out and in with short and sharp bursts. When she had first decided to come here, she had thought it wasn't going to be that bad, oh boy was she wrong. So terribly wrong.

The only thing keeping her going right now was the overriding desire to make Fred eat his shit eating grin. The way he grinned at her as she did the circuits he said were necessary, the way he implied that she couldn't handle the training, the way he acted so superior to her. So frustrating!

Missy had therefore thrown herself into the training regime that Fred had laid out for her after she had gotten herself "tested" as he called it. Missy had called it torture, the way she had to run laps, sprinting after him as he made a pace that would have made Armsmaster jealous. The way he had done it running backwards and smiling at her the entire time.

They had run for an hour, something that Missy was only able to keep up with because of her Wards training. Even then it was a close thing, she had very nearly keeled over more than once during the run. The next parts were even more ridiculous, she was taken out the back and expected to make her way around an obstacle course, one that was going to be incredibly difficult given that her legs had surrendered and were asking her to shoot them, put them out of their misery.

The way they were wobbling caught his eye and his grin widened even further if that was possible, indeed it was possible, she was going to be seeing that grin many times over the next few weeks. It had given her the drive she needed to complete the obstacle course, swearing at him in her mind, the desire to prove that she could do it driving every action as she pushed her body to the very limits that it could go, her stubborn determination and her desire to prove him wrong, propelling her past those very same limits.

Missy Biron was not going to lay over and die because of a little challenge, she was going to kick its balls so hard that they came out of its mouth and died in agony. Missy Biron was not the youngest and oldest of the Wards for no reason. Missy Biron had sewed shut her own wounds because she was a tough bitch and didn't need any Panacea to heal her. Missy Biron could do this, Missy Biron was going to do this.

Without her powers, not even a little bit, Missy made her way around the obstacle course, the entire thing had taken her 30 minutes and by the time she was done, her arms were feeling the same agony as her legs, as was her stomach muscles, as was her back. In fact, the only part of her body that was not in agony was her forehead, she hadn't needed to use those muscles except to frown. Speaking of frowns, her cheeks were feeling tired, the perpetual frown she had worn had exercised those as well apparently.

As she lay panting in exhaustion, Fred loomed over her and laughed.

"Passable." He said.

Fucking passable, and what? He could have done that better? Fucking. Bullshit.

Missy Biron was not willing to listen to reality at that moment in time, she had worked her ass off and this fucker told her that it was "passable?" She would see what was passable when she made him punch his own balls.

"Watch girly." There it was again! Girly, she was Missy, she had a name. Only stuck up little bitches liked being called girly and she was certainly no stuck up little bitch. She was a hard bitch, the kind that could shank you and laugh about it afterwards. Not that she had ever shanked anyone, and now that she thought about it, laughing about it was probably the last thing on her mind if she did in fact, shank someone.

Still, she was a hard bitch, she just knew it.

Missy propped herself on her elbows, looking at Fred as he… danced his way through the obstacle course. Every movement one that was done with the least amount of possible movement, his body contorting into shapes that should have been illegal for someone his size to fit into, his every movement graceful, sexy.

She temporarily forgot her pain as she watched him complete what had taken her half an hour in 5 minutes, not even a drop of sweat on his face.

That was incredibly sexy she thought to herself.

It didn't mean that she enjoyed his grin however, that thing had to go as soon as possible. She was not going to accept being second place, not here, not now. She had accepted it as part of the Wards, she needed to uphold an image after all. But here? Here there was nobody she knew, nobody that would care except for Fred and he was disconnected from her circle entirely. If she wanted to swear and let loose a little, well it wasn't like he was going to object.

Probably.

Who knew what he was like, but if she wanted to just quit afterwards, it would be a simple matter of just not turning up for the next lesson… or torture session.

"Well girly, I can say without a doubt. That you are the most… [Missy held her breath at that, she knew what was coming on some fundamental level, but she still hoped for something different] disappointing performance I have ever seen on the Mk 3 obstacle course. But! That's not your fault, you've been raised soft girly. You want to be strong like Fred here, you gotta put in the effort. Come back tomorrow and I'll have a plan worked out for you. Now get! You need some sleep or you're going to keel over." He said, grinning at her the entire time. She could feel the smugness radiating off him.

Damn him.

The most words that she had ever heard him say in actuality. Missy took off her borrowed clothes in the little changeroom that they had, took a brief shower and made her way out. She was going to be leaving, she was going to come back. She was going to make him eat his words and she was going to be the most damned fit girl in Brockton if that was what it took.

She was Missy Biron and she was Ward, she had fought with hardened criminals and she didn't have to take that kind of attitude from a civilian.

And so the torture continued for the next few weeks, her body changing as she worked out. The food that he gave her was something that she hadn't eaten before… and didn't want to eat again. It was the most bland and texturally devoid foodstuffs that she had ever put into her mouth. The white little block was called a "nutrient block" by Fred and she was to eat it 3 times a day on top of her daily food intake he had said. If she didn't he wasn't going to be training her anymore.

Missy had decided that she would get them tested and after Armsmaster had said they were perfectly fine she had started consuming them. Armsmaster had wanted to know where she got them, something about them being the "perfect food" but Missy just brushed it off with something someone had given her. She didn't want to reveal her secret training spot to anyone else, it was a place for her to let loose.

Still, eating them had produced a notable change in her body, she was growing taller, her muscles were toning to the point where she had actual muscle definition, and the training was getting easier. Well, not really easier, it was still as incredibly painful as it was before, but she could handle more of it than before. It was just too bad that Fred upped the ante every time that it looked like she could handle whatever he was throwing at her. Making her strap weights to her legs, making her do so while holding a bucket of sand, making her run the obstacle course with only her left hand, all of it designed no doubt to torture her for his amusement.

As much as Fred was a hunk, Missy had decided that he was also a huge asshole as well. Seriously, the way he acted like everything she did was "ok", and expected. She could handle a little praise you know, it wasn't like she was a Chilli plant and needed constant suffering to produce something good.

The benefits were certainly something that was showing however. The way in which she could handle anything that the Wards training had thrown at her, the way that only Aegis was able to beat her in a battle of stamina, the way that she was the most physically capable Ward outside of Aegis. All of it resulted from her training and she wasn't sure she should be grateful to Fred for allowing her to excel, to break through what she had thought were her limits, or to curse him for torturing her to allow her to reach that level in the first place.

She decided that she was going to do both. The asshole really did take far too much damn amusement in the way that she suffered for her to thank him out loud. As Missy walked into the dojo/gym/torture chamber after school for her daily session, she came even on weekends, the pain was depressingly addicting. Missy Biron was worried she was turning into a deviant of some kind now that she thought about it. Who else got off on training so hard that you couldn't walk afterwards?

What greeted her this time was not Fred grinning sadistically at her, but rather a Fred that was smiling, and not in that condescending manner either. This was a heartfelt, "good to see you here" smile that she had never seen before. She had grown good at recognising those kinds of smiles, you had to when you were a 12 year old Ward and nobody wanted you around since you were "too young", the fuckers.

"Girly. I've got good news and bad news, what do you want to hear first?" He asked, the smile transforming into that shit eating grin that she was so familiar with.

"The bad news." Experience had taught her to always go with the bad news, and since he did this every day, she had a lot of experience.

"Well, you have graduated from full time physical training." He said, looked momentarily sad. It took her a moment to process his words, but by the time she did, she was grinning viciously. HA! No more of this torture disguised as training crap, she was FREE!

"Don't look so happy, you're still going to need to do a program to make sure you don't degrade and still develop further. We're only stopping the full time program since you've reached the point where we can move onto the next part of the program." He said. Missy deflated for a second but reinflated again soon after, half torture was better than full torture she decided.

"Ok. What's the good news?" She asked, half-dreading the answer that was going to be coming out of his lips.

"We get to move onto the actual Jungle Fighting aspect of your training." He said, grinning widely at her.

Missy grinned back, she was going to be learning how to fight? Ha! She was Ward and she was trained by Armsmaster himself, she was going to be wiping the floor with his ass and it was going to feel sooooo good. Payback for all the pain that had been inflicted on her, revenge for her poor legs and arms.

Oh yes. She was going to enjoy this.

Spoiler: AN

170

George12

Nov 17, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 05

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 17, 2016

#31

Missy glared at the man opposite her. He in turn, was grinning. It had been going so well, she had been ready to kick his ass, to get revenge on him for the training that he had forced her to undergo, to crush him beneath her feet (her boots were in the shoe locker out the front), to show him who was boss.

"Well now, let's start with the basics, hand to hand combat. Ready Girly?" Said Fred. His face split in that stupid grin of his.

Missy looked back at him, her ready stance was all the answer she needed to give. 'Come at me' it was like she was saying, her face split in a savage grin. She was going to get her revenge and it would feel glorious. She would destroy him.

"Come at me, let's see what you have." He said.

Missy didn't bother replying, instead pushing off the mat and diving at him. She would be going in for a punch, a widely telescoped one that would have him try and counterattack, then she would be spinning left, underneath him and trip him. Good plan, use her shortness to get an advantage over him.

Rushing in, Missy extended her right arm to her side, angled in an obvious punch. Diving in, she swung, her arm going out, his attempt at blocking it meeting nothing but thin air as she pulled her arm by spinning to the right. Heh, now she would put out her leg, hit the back of her knees, aaaand.

Bam.

The next thing she knew, Missy was on her back, her eyes staring at the ceiling. What had just happened? She was moving fast, fast enough that if she had done similar, only Armsmaster, Defiant and maybe Miss Militia would be able to take her down. They might be able to see her, but they would definitely not be able to hit her.

Just who the hell was Fred?

"Well… that was… disappointing." And all thoughts of finding out who Fred was fled her mind as outrage took its place. This… this… this man. If it was the last thing she ever did, Missy would put him on his back and make him worship her for being so superior to him.

If she just used her powers just a little he wouldn't even know and BAM, he would be going down. But that wouldn't have the satisfaction that would come from defeating him fair and square, using nothing but the body she had been born with. She was going to crush him, he just didn't know it yet. The poor fool.

"Yea, really disappointing actually, I thought you had a little skill, but it looks like I was totally wrong. We're going to need to start from scratch." He continued, much to Missy's indignation. She had been trained by Armsmaster and the PRT teams herself, not to mention the professional self-defence experts that came in to teach every week. He was saying all of their training was worthless? Missy was about to say something very loud and very rude when he continued.

"Too much hesitation, too much focus on trying to do a non-lethal takedown, too much movement. We're gonna be beating that out of you Girly, get ready for some serious training." He finished, grinning at her from above. He was upside down for some reason, oh wait. It was her that was upside down. Ok, time to get back up, if he wanted a fight, she was going to give him a damn fight. Smug fucker wouldn't even know what hit him.

Missy stood up, settling herself into a stance again, ready for round 2. Only for him to shake his head at her.

"Like I said Girly, we're starting from scratch. We aren't gonna be sparring again until I mark you off as ready." He said, walking over to her.

"Now, first thing I see is that we need to work on your posture, your positioning, your arms, your legs, everything that matters Girly. Let's get started." He said, grinning as he began to re-arrange her arms and legs to fit whatever posture he thought she needed to be in.

Missy's head began to hurt a little, the amount of information that he was dumping on her was enormous, more than the nutrition explanation he had given regarding how to best nourish her body.

Missy gave a mental sigh, it looked like her revenge was going to have to wait, he was going to be putting her through more torture it looked like. The dull kind most likely, judging from her previous experiences when it came to martial arts teachers.

What followed was definitely not like that at all. He would force her to change her posture, explaining what it was for, then telling her to attack him. When he inevitably blocked her attempts to strike, he would explain why she had failed, what was a better way to do it, and demonstrate using her own body so that her muscle memory would keep track of it.

Hours. It had gone for hours and by the end of it, she was just as tired as she had been when she first started the fitness training. Fred just had a natural talent for exhausting her. If nothing else he was a very good fitness coach from the looks of it.

She would persevere. When she was done with him, he would be crushed into pulp beneath her glorious foot.

After the first session where she had actually used her fists like the banner had advertised, she had spent the next several weeks going through an unbelievable regimen that completely changed the way she saw hand to hand combat, radically changing the way she fought on a fundamental level. Now her hesitation in combat came from trying to hold back and not go for a more brutal and direct style against her opponents. Whereas before she would be trying to take them down, using her body to her advantage. Fred's training had seen her change in that she knew she could take them down, in both a multitude of non-lethal and lethal techniques.

If was a big enough change that Miss Militia had asked her if there had been any big changes in her life. Missy had been tempted to blow her off like she had with Armsmaster, but she decided otherwise, maybe Miss Militia would understand, both of them being girls on an all male team (Battery didn't count, she was married). With that in mind, Missy had invited Hannah along to her next session with Fred at the Jungle Fighting 101 torture chamber.

She had purposefully avoiding telling Hannah the specifics, she had wanted to see what would happen to her. Was it sadistic? Yes. Had Hannah done anything wrong to her to deserve such a fate? No. But she was going to do it anyway? Yes. Hannah would probably step in and be all indignant, "oh noes what you doing to my beautiful awesome Ward? I shall crush you!"

It would be a glorious moment to see Fred taken down a notch by Hannah when she invariably crushed him. Missy couldn't wait.

And so it was that Hannah met her as she was leaving school, both of them making their way to the dojo after bidding goodbye to the other Wards, mention of it being a girls night out keeping them away.

"Girly. And bigger Girly. A friend?" Fred asked, his customary position at the dojo entrance desk allowing him to see her as she entered. He always sat there. He never did any paperwork at all, just sitting there. What was the point?

"Yes, I am Hannah, thank you for taking care of Melissa," Hannah said, revealing her deepest and darkest of secrets. Her real name.

"Sounds a little posh doesn't it, you aren't some kind of noble are you Girly?" Fred asked, raising that damned eyebrow at her as he did so.

"No! I'm just a normal girl. Call me Missy." She said, glaring at him, arms folded across her chest.

"No can do Girly, until you graduate, you're gonna be a Girly all the same." He said, his eyebrow still raised, only it was wiggling, taunting her. After the time they had spent together, he had gotten very good at poking at her weakpoints and getting a rise out of her.

"I'm Missy, not Girly!"

"So you say Girly, still look like a Girly from all the way up here." He said, grinning widely at her.

Missy ground her teeth in frustration before heading over to the shoelocker, changing out and then heading to the changing rooms. She hadn't won before, it looked like she wasn't going to win now.

"Wanna join in bigger Girly?" She heard Fred ask. Missy stifled a little giggle at that, he even called Hannah girly. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

Hannah, or rather Miss Militia was trying very hard to not stare at the man. He wasn't wearing a shirt and he looked… delicious.

She knew a good looking man when she saw one, and was scanning him with her eyes, she would burn his body into her mind, it was just that perfect.

"Wanna join in Bigger Girly?" His question knocked her out of her battle with herself. Still, she frowned, she was certainly not a Girly, she was a grown woman.

"My name is Hannah, and I am just here to watch today." She said, her tone reprimanding him.

The manner in which he shrugged and turned away from her told Hannah that he had ignored her. Hannah could see why Missy was aggravated by the man, the normally sweet teenage had actually been glaring at him and even raised her voice, something that Hannah had never seen before from the Ward.

Still, that did not make it a bad thing, to have someone that was able to engage you, whether it be in anger or not, was a good thing for personal growth. Given that this "Fred" as Missy had said his name was training her both physically and martially, she had to thank him for taking Missy under his wing. The poor Ward was very much out of place as both the youngest Ward as well as the only female on the team, both now that Shadow Stalker was dead and even when she was alive.

Shadow Stalker had not exactly embraced her femininity, instead preferring to hunt and catch criminals, stalking the night, the eternal hunter as opposed to sitting down for some girl talk, or even to talk at all. She did not see the other Wards as equals and it had defined their relationship.

"Well then bigger Girly, just follow me hmm?" Fred(?) said, turning and walking into the dojo, leaving Hannah to trail behind.

His continued use of the word Girly in reference to her was triggering her ability, her weapons constantly switching in and out as she stalked behind the man. She had already had to change her name from Hana to Hannah, and she was not appreciating the fact that this man demanded further change, even worse he was so cavalier about it.

Hannah could see why Missy reacted to this manner in such an aggressive manner, he brought out the worst in them. Maybe he was just like this to women?

Hannah wasn't sure why he was so deliberately antagonizing and she resolved to find out why, or at least partially why. While it certainly was irritating, it was also true that he had engaged Missy in a way that nobody else had managed to do so before now.

Hannah changed in the shoelocker as well, taking off her flats, cleaning her feet in the offered sink that reminded her of home and was off into the main dojo. It was a… small affair and Fred was waiting in the middle for Missy by the looks of it.

Hannah took the opportunity to look around the place, admiring the… blank concrete walls. It was the single most bare bones dojos that she had ever seen, the entire place being unadorned of any decorations except for the mats on the floor, the very same ones she was standing on. There was a door at the opposite end of the room, itself measuring 10 meters by 10 meters from the looks of it.

Hannah wasn't so discourteous to go and snoop on her own so she waited.

Missy had invited her along for a reason, perhaps she would see why in a short while.

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George12

Nov 17, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 06

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 17, 2016

#32

Hannah stared in horror at what Missy was going through. The young Ward was being put through her paces, through one of the most physically grueling programs that Hannah had ever seen. Even Armsmaster hadn't done this much when he was bringing himself to his optimal condition.

Right now Missy was running her way around in a circle around the perimeter of the obstacle room behind the mat room. The laps however, was through the obstacle course itself, the young Ward having to dodge in and around the various poles, blocks, walls and hanging beams that were in her way. All without using her powers.

Missy did it admirably, diving, rolling, swinging and in one case leaping over a 3 meter gap with ease. Hannah looked on in admiration, Missy was certainly looking like she was enjoying herself, the Ward grinning widely as she made her way through the obstacle course, increasing her speed with every lap.

Still, Hannah was not stupid and she looked up at Fred who was beside her. Missy very clearly had to train extraordinarily hard to reach this level of competency in her movement, something that meant she had very likely fell or crashing into objects as she was doing so. Training this difficult was not something that a young 12 year old like Missy should be undergoing, she should just stay as she was, she still had years before she was needed in any capacity. She didn't need to do this to herself. Her body would be facing long term damage from all of this. Just what was Fred thinking?

Hannah was at a loss, why was Missy pushing herself so hard? What was motivating her to put herself through training that involved physical training that made Armsmaster's body efficiency program look lackluster?

"Why?" She asked, looking up at Fred. She was trying very hard to not look at his arms, those delicious looking arms.

She wanted to lay him down and lick them and. No. Bad Hannah.

"Why are you doing this?" Hannah continued, looking into his eyes.

The trainer turned his head to her, looking into her eyes and what amazing eyes they were, like golden honey, it makes you all warm and gooey inside looking into them doesn't it Hannah? He grinned, showing off his teeth, not purely white but with tinges of yellow to them. Someone who regularly brushed but wasn't paying someone to whiten them.

"The Girly wanted to train, I said ok. So now we're training. What's not to understand?" He asked, eyebrow raising, perfectly sculpted and dangerously sexy eyebrows that made her want to press her lips to them.

"But this is far beyond 'training', this is too intense for that! You are putting her through training that is going to damage her body." Hannah said, barely refraining from shouting at him as she did so.

"What? No! She's been tested, everything is done to the maximum level of her limits but nothing beyond that." Said Fred, sounding offended. His face was twisted into a scowl, as if her questioning his ability to train the young Ward somehow impinged on his manly pride. And what a pride that would be if the rest of him was any indication.

"Done!" Came Missy's shout, not 3 meters away.

Hannah jerked slightly, Missy's voice jolting her from the rather intense staring session that she had been having with Fred, words were one thing but it seemed like they were having an entirely different conversation that only the two of them could interpret.

"Good. Back to the mat room. We're sparring today." He said, breaking eye contact with her and walking away.

"Boo. I thought that I would be able to scare him that time." Missy said, her face twisted into a scowl, arms crossed in front of her. As the Ward kicked at the ground with her feet, Hannah took a moment to walk over to her. Concern was radiating out of every pore she was sure. Worry over what Missy was doing, why she was doing it, just what was driving her.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do? This training is something that I've only seen special forces soldiers do and even then for half as long. Are you sure you want to do this? Nobody will think less of you if you do." She said, crouching down to put herself on the same level as the Ward. "It's only you and me right now, you can tell me Missy, I won't tell anyone else. I promise." Hannah wracked her brain and brought up an ancient little thing she used to do when she was a child. "Pinky swear," she said hand up, pinky out.

Missy instead scrunched up her face and said, "Sorry Hannah, I thought that I wanted to just quit when we first started out, but now I have to beat him. I cannot let him win, I'm going to put him down if it's the last thing I do." Declared the girl, back straight and eyes showing her fortitude. She really did want to beat him, didn't she?

"Well ok then. If there is anything you need to talk about, just remember that I'm here ok?" Hannah said, trying to sound supportive despite the dissonance she felt from the way the Ward had spoken. Was she meant to support Missy's desire to not give up despite her hardships, or was she supposed to feel a little rejection of Missy's desire to defeat her instructor? Therein lay the path to frustration and pent up anger, and for someone that was already shouldering the burden of having her parents divorce and being a Ward at the same time, perhaps it would be best to not have Missy here in the first place.

She would be angry, but Hannah hoped that over time, Missy would forgive her, it was for her own good.

Hannah followed Missy into the mat room again as the Ward and her Instructor were squaring off against each other. The sight of a man that was likely 2 times the height of the Ward looming over the young girl was enough to put palpitations in Hannah's heart. Was he going to just beat her? Was this the training that she was undergoing?

Hannah had noticed Missy's increased performance over the last month, as had the PRT instructors as well as the heroes themselves. The Ward being able to defeat every one of her Ward counterparts with ease save for Aegis if she wasn't able to use her powers, crushing them if she was. Even against the fully fledged heroes and martial arts instructors on payroll, Missy was giving a good showing of herself, able to hold her own against the instructors without her powers, and able to at least stand up temporarily against the heroes.

What had prompted such an enormous change in the young Ward none of them knew, until Armsmaster had used his privileges to get a recording of Missy's trek home and had noticed that she had entered the building of her own volition, the one that had a badly painted sign out the front selling "Jungle Fighting 101". Naturally, the PRT and the Protectorate had been suspicious and forays were made into finding out what exactly this new business was, and they had come up clean.

Merely a dojo run by a man named Fred Stone whose only student it appeared was a Missy Biron. What was more, she was going every day, and the earliest changes to her behavior appeared the week after she had visited the gym for the first time. It was extremely worrying and Hannah had volunteered to ask the Ward and see if she could get an invite to see what it was that the Ward was going through to have such a change on her.

Not that it was not welcome of course, the conquest of the entire Dockland area by the Princess' forces had sparked what looked like a new gang war that was about to begin very soon. Having Missy being able to defend herself better would be very welcome, especially if it kept her alive. While the Princess' forces had not made any overt moves since they had taken the Docks, they had cut off the supply of goods from the ocean to the ABB and E88. The Merchants had been annihilated and without the Docks to receive the majority of their goods, they had fallen apart.

As for the ABB and E88, after a few probes that had seen their men wiped out to a man by the not extremely impressive defensive systems, resembling a Normandy beach in World War 2 than a Dock area. The Princess' forces appeared to be very content with merely patrolling the land which they had taken and warding off any attackers, retaliation in kind not being on their agenda so far.

However, the ABB and E88 were getting desperate, their stocks of drugs among other things was beginning to dry up and they needed the Docks open again to receive their goods in the volumes that they needed. Without them, the bulk transit afforded by boats assisting in the throughput of supplies, the two gangs would have to rely on getting goods from a land route and that was eating into their profit margins, forcing them to raise prices which was making customers extremely discontent.

The entire city was just a powderkeg waiting for some very irresponsible someone's to throw a match on it and turn the entire thing into a conflagration. Hannah wasn't too sure how she felt about that, bad because of the innocent people that were going to get caught up in it all, not so bad since the E88 and the ABB were going to be slamming themselves into the Princess' forces and they had proven that they were extremely deadly. Likely the most deadly gang in the United States if what they were seeing was true, able to raise fortifications almost overnight, each of them seemingly going without sleep for days, capable in hand to hand and ranged combat.

It was like someone took Special Forces soldiers from around the world and put them all into the same units. It was rather ridiculous now that she thought about it, but it was making far too much sense for it to be any other way. Armsmaster and Dragon had their analytics programs to tell what kind of person they were looking at from just observing them, but for Hannah, she had spent time memorizing mannerisms to tell how to best approach a situation, especially if it was one against unknowns without qualms regarding killing.

The men and women under the Princess' command all behaved like professional soldiers and that was certainly disconcerting, to say the least. They still hadn't managed to solve the issue of Shadow Stalker's murderer, Armsmaster had said that it was a separate group from the ones that had built a vast tunnel network under the city initially, something about them not being overt about what they were doing compared to simply killing Shadow Stalker in her civilian identity as well as her friends. But when it became rather obvious that the Princess' forces were the ones who had done that in the first place, using the tunnel network and their ability to create fortifications to build up around the Docks and solidifying their position.

However, the fact it appeared that they had no saboteur units, made it difficult to confirm whether or not it was the same group or not, but Armsmaster was keeping his eyes on them. That and he wanted one of their laser guns to take apart for his own sake, it was digging into him how efficient they were compared to even Kid Win's designs.

Hannah was pulled out from her thoughts at the sight in front of her. That of Missy leaping into the air and kicking at Fred's head with enough force that she could hear the slap of knee against flesh from her position at the doorway. Fred had put up his arm to block the kick, but Missy simply switched and used her left leg connected to his arm to lever her right leg into action, kicking from the opposite angle. As Fred put up his hand with the intent of catching Missy's foot, she instead used her hands to grab hold of his head and flip herself over the man, aiming to kick at the back of his head as she twisted her way over.

Hannah simply stared. This was not the Missy she had been training with. Missy grinned as she kicked at Fred's head, the few times that she was allowed to go all out and do whatever she wanted to him. Sure she hadn't been able to get him down as of yet, but it wasn't due to her lack of trying.

It was certainly something that allowed her to relieve her stress after a week of intense training, all the frustration that she had been building up over time as she was beaten into the ground by Fred in the name of trying, forced to do the same drills over and over again to build muscle memory or whatever justification it was he was using to explain why he was crushing her every day.

This was her chance to let loose, and Missy was going to be going all out, trying to do as much damage as she could to him as she possibly could in the time that she had. Missy was going all out and he was going to be on the receiving end of it, and it was going to be awesome.

Assuming she could land a hit. Every single kick, every punch, every strike had been deflected or blocked outright and Fred hadn't moved outside of the little circle he set for himself at all. He had said to her that if she managed to get him outside of the circle, he would begin training her for real, with knives and other weapons. Missy couldn't wait, only his stipulation meant that she had been trying ineffectually to knock him down for the last 2 weeks.

Missy took a brief break, landing on the ground some 3 meters away from him, taking the chance to breathe in some air, feed the bellows that had replaced her lungs and shake loose her arms and legs. Going hard several minutes straight really did a number on one's muscles and joints, she didn't see how the other heroes could do this for hours at a time.

Ok, Missy shook her head and sprinted forward again, using her right foot to push her into the air when she was a few steps away from Fred. She wanted her knee up into his face, knock him all the way over and make him regret taking her so lightly, not even using the stances that he had taught her. At the speed she was going, even if he blocked her, the momentum should be enough to knock him off balance and even out of the circle if she was lucky.

If she wasn't, it would put him off balance enough that would have an opening to attack into, his back would be vulnerable, perhaps even his legs. It was all about picking your targets and Missy would have an entire body of them to select from once he was down.

Only it went completely differently from what she imagined, her knee missed and she was sailing over him. Where was he? What the hell? Missy looked back and felt some shock, the bastard had swung one leg into the air to balance him as she lowered his torso until the leg that was free floating was horizontal to his body. What the hell was that shit? He had never done that before, he shouldn't be able to do that, what the fuck.

Missy felt the indignation filling her brain, where the hell did he get off being so… so… so damned perfect. It was unfair to the rest of the world and it did nothing to improve her confidence. She glared at him as he turned to face her. The bastard was even grinning at her.

Missy growled, a bestial growl that harkened back to the mammals that were in her family tree all those millions of years ago. A growl that told Fred that she was going to devour him and crack open his bones to drink out the marrow. There was no mercy to be found here and Missy was not in the mood to be merciful in the first place.

She was not a merciful nor a forgiving god.

With a roar she threw herself at Fred, ignoring her body that was screaming at her to take a break, that every single one of her muscles was on the very of collapsing. She was going to be taking him down if it was the last thing she did. She would wipe that grin off his face, that fucking grin.

Hands, legs, arms, elbows, knees, shoulders, every part of her body that could be weaponized was thrown at him, every part that couldn't was used in support of the others. Her entire body was turned into a weapon, every individual part of it contributing to the whole. Despite her frustration, Missy felt a sense of exhilaration. She was able to use her full potential, to go for the killing moves, all the attacks that she had kept to herself to avoid injuring or killing her more mundane sparring partners.

With Fred however, she could unleash her inner beast and go all out without a fear that she would be charged with manslaughter at a later date. Or rather, if she was charged with anything, it would be murder. Murder because she was going to get revenge on Fred for all he had done to her and she was going to enjoy it. So what if she was meant to be a 12 year old sweet summer child. She had suffered at his hands for what must have been 2 months now, she was quite definitely not going to forgive and forget.

Actually, she dared someone in her shoes to forgive and forget what had been done to them. They wouldn't, the humiliation, the pain, the grin as he laughed at her with his eyes. He was going to pay.

"Well Girly, good job." Fred said, standing over Missy as she lay starfished out on the floor, panting in exhaustion. Her entire body was one giant ache, every single muscle fibre was screaming at her, demanding an impeachment of the brain for pushing them this far. She could feel some of them marching their way over to hormone producers now, pitchforks ready to enact brutal revenge.

"Ughmguh." Missy replied. She was too damned tired to be talking, why did he act like she was a normal person that could do some bloody replying. What the hell did he think she was? Just because the bastard wasn't human, didn't mean all of them were like him.

"Heh, here." He bent down and offered to her the elixir of life. The most beautiful drink that she had ever seen in her life. It was magical, somehow able to take away all the pain and soreness in her muscles, an unqualified success in everything it wanted to be, not like that bastard Fred.

The little plastic bag's nozzle was placed into her mouth and Missy sucked it like it was milk fresh from the teat of her mother, assuming she was in the infant in that analogy. A brief moment more and the warmth of the drink spread through her entire body, like a wave that washed away the pain and the aching. It was like a tide, just calmly lapping away at her aches, at her pains, slowly leeching out the suffering and replacing it with nothing but happiness and love.

Missy felt like she could love the world, even forgive Fred she was so generous. Anything and everything, just ask Missy Biron and she would do it. She was a merciful god, one that bestowed a bounty upon those that worshiped at her feet. And then the drink was gone and she was back to normal, her brief episode a glimpse into the world that Missy could have been, assuming she was a total pansy.

Taking a moment for herself, enjoying the fact that she could once again move her body as she wanted it, Missy sat up and stared at Fred. "Good job? For what? Making you go on one leg? Hah! You're screwing with me again aren't you!" She accused, eyebrows furrowed.

A finger impacted right between her brows, "Don't frown so much Girly, the more wrinkles you have, the harder it is to put camo paint on you." He said, grinning at her.

Missy settled for pouting at him.

"I said Good Job since you managed to get me on one leg. It's time to start you with weapons training Girly. Don't worry, we'll still be doing physical and unarmed training as well. You won't be missing out on a thing." He said, grinning in that sadistically amused manner of his. The one that said he was going to make her life hell and enjoy every last moment of it.

"I thought you said I had to knock you out of the ring before you would teach me weapons." Missy asked, standing up.

"I lied. Someone as small as you knocking me out of the ring? Hah! Even the Sergeant can't knock me out of the ring on his best day, what's a little thing like you gonna do to me?" He said, laughing at her.

Again with the Sergeant, always comparing her to this elusive Sergeant of his that was apparently on her level when it came to physical abilities. Always insulting the Sergeant, always saying the Sergeant was better than Missy but implying it wasn't by much. Missy wanted to meet this Sergeant and complain to him about Fred, maybe they could bond over their mutual complaints about Fred.

"Now then, sit right there, I'm gonna give you your first weapon. This is your first weapon and I expect for you to take care of it like your own child. Screw around with it and I'll take it away from you and you will never see it again. That understood?" He said, looking uncharacteristically serious for the first time since she had met him.

Missy nodded and Fred grinned at her. "Wait there." And he was off, walking over to his desk and pulling out a knife? From the drawer underneath.

Missy stared at it and from out of the corner of her eyes, she could see that Hannah was staring as well. It was a beautiful knife, very elegant, very functional, and so very sharp. Missy lost herself in staring at the glossy finish, the tiny swirls that shone in colours of dark blue, purple-black, and red staring right back at her.

Missy felt for a moment that she had fallen in love all over again, only this love was so much more enduring and beautiful than the surface level emotions she had felt for Dean. This was a love between a woman and her best friend, a love of beauty, of perfection. Simply trying to explain why she felt the way she did was impossible, it was simply too perfect for her to articulate in words just what it was she was looking at.

"This is called a stiletto, it's a knife that's designed for stabbing, for delicate work. It's also a great knife to practice your parrying, deflecting, and blocking skills." Fred said. Only Missy didn't hear him, she was too busy staring at the knife. That was until he blocked it from her view. Oy!

"Focus Girly." He said, raising his eyebrow at her.

"Yes?"

"This is a Stiletto, we're going to be using this to teach you how to use knives properly, any questions?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at her. The nerve! It wasn't as if Missy had a habit of ignoring his words. It was just the fact that there was something so perfect staring at her, begging for her to take it into her hands, well it made perfect sense why a girl wouldn't be listening to something mundane as human speech.

"No," Missy said, short, crisp. She wanted that damned knife. Gimme gimme gimme.

Fred gave a sigh. "It's rare we get something like this the first time around." He said, sounding a little happy but also regretful.

"Huh?" Missy looked up at him. What the hell was he talking about.

"Finding your perfect knife. It's something that happens when someone sees the knife that is perfect for them, and it looks like Stilettos are your perfect knives." He said, reaching out his hand, palm up. On it was the Stiletto, on it was perfection, on it was her destiny.

Missy felt her hand tremble as she reached out. Her palm firmly grasping the hilt of the blade in her hands, it was a little big for her but that didn't matter. The feeling of bliss, of knowing that she was home filled her.

This.

This was her soul-weapon.

172

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Nov 17, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 08

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 17, 2016

#34

Hannah stared a little uncomfortably at the orgasmic expression on Missy's face. Seeing a young girl with that expression while holding a weapon was just a little… disturbing if she was being honest.

In fact, the entire thing had been disturbing, from the way that Missy had gone straight into killing techniques in her spar with Fred, the way that she had been unerringly targeting his throat, his head, kidneys, liver, and joints. The way that she had done so without hesitation, each strike capable of ending his life if he hadn't managed to block them. It was ridiculous and more than a little scary actually, seeing a man hold off against every single one of them without breaking a sweat.

Even though it had gone on for what must have been 15 minutes, he hadn't shown any difficulties at all, and the fact that Missy could manage 15 straight minutes of non-stop attacks and maneuvering, well Hannah was impressed. Both of them had a different level of impressed but Missy certainly had the most, the way that a 12 year old girl could do what she was doing without faltering was admirable. Grown men trained for years couldn't do that.

It was worrying.

What if she decided to use those same moved on a criminal? A strike to the back of the head, an elbow to the temple, a knee to the nose, all of those could kill, and the way that she had been aiming them, they were intended to kill. She could not in keeping with her conscience allow for Missy to remain here if this was what they were teaching her, or rather he was teaching her. Hannah hadn't seen any evidence that there was anyone besides Fred here doing the teaching.

Then there was the fact that he had just given Missy a knife, a very sharp and effective knife. The kind that was designed to kill, not as a utility item, or even as an ornament, but rather a knife that was for ending the lives of one's enemies. Hannah should know, she had fielded a few of them in her time with both the "army" and the PRT.

Using her power discretely, Hannah copied the knife and in doing so understood the weapon at a fundamental every, every little part of it being open to her mind. It was made from a simple steel alloy that would allow for it to have more flexibility than a usual Stiletto, it would have to be sharpened for often, but for a weapon of this type that was not a real concern. In fact, Hannah was slightly worried about what exactly Fred was expecting Missy to be using this knife for in the first place.

She frowned, not liking where her thoughts were taking her.

"Well now, we're gonna be running over safety when holding a knife, how to stow it away, how to make sure you don't stab yourself in the guy, you know, the standard stuff before we pack it away and get on with it. Any questions?" He asked, looking down at Missy.

"Ummm. No? You haven't said anything that needs questions yet." She replied, grinning rather cheekily up at him.

The mischievous young girl contrasted greatly with the one with a snarl on her face, baying for the blood of Fred, drenched in sweat as she worked to gain the slightest of advantages over him. In fact, the range of expression that Missy had displayed over the course of the last 2 hours had been more than Hannah had ever seen from the girl, thinking that she was naturally quiet and preferred to be alone.

Instead, Hannah was confronted by the knowledge that the girl she thought was the real Missy was most probably a fake, the real one hiding behind a facade. She wasn't exactly sure as to why she was hiding away from the other Wards, but the knowledge that she was, was certainly impossible to escape from now. Hannah understood, she really did. Deep down, deep inside of her, she felt the same way, a need to let loose, a need to indulge in her powers, to fight with every tool she had available in a fight against someone superior to her. To know that to fail was death, that every move she made was one that had consequence, that she was fighting for both her life, and her soul. It was a dream, one that was so far away, yet as she stared at Fred in front of her, so close.

Hannah reconsidered her plan to take Missy out of the dojo, apparently it was having a very large impact on Missy, she was certainly smiling more, having more fun (even if it was of the violent variety), and being much more engaged with those around her (even if it was just 1 man). Hannah didn't know what she should be doing, as the two before her talked, and jabbed at each other with their words, Hannah was left for the first time in a long time at a loss.

Then her eyes strayed over to Fred again, something she had been trying to avoid, the fact that he was shirtless slamming into her mind every time she even so much as looked at him for too long. The damned man was far too sexy for his own good and it was playing havoc on Hannah's concentration.

It was like drugs, do them enough and one might gain a little resistance, but the first few times were going to be a massive rush… genius.

Hannah decided on the spot that she was going to be asking for lessons as well. It would be under the guise of testing whether or not Fred was a suitable teacher for Missy as well as for her to gain an immunity to the way he just oozed testosterone. Long forgotten parts of Hannah's body were waking up and she wasn't sure she liked that fact, but sadly it was inevitable.

The only recourse was to escape and bury any memories as deeply as she could, a problem considering that she had photographic memory that was going to refuse to allow her to do that. That and she was not sure she wanted that at all, no. What if she was hit by an ambush of Freds? She wouldn't have her immunity and she would be helpless.

No, she was going to be signing up for lessons and if that meant she was going to be sparring with him up close, breathing in his scent purely by accident of course and maybe, just maybe, trying out armlocks, headlocks, locks of all kinds. The kinds that brought her into extreme close contact, the kind that made her glad that she was a woman. Well, that was just an added bonus, right?

Hannah grinned at her internal self-justification of what she was about to do. She should just admit that she wanted to be near the man, apparently, an entire life of being inside the Protectorate, doing paperwork, fighting villains, watching friends and enemies die was not something that had been healthy for her.

Well no time like the present, she was going to be enjoying life, just a little bit, as she trained with Fred.

"Sooooo… why did you decide to sign up for lessons Hannah?" Missy asked, drawing out the first word in a way that told Hannah the young Ward knew exactly the reasons as to why she had done so.

"I wanted to learn how to fight using knives," Hannah said, as primly and authoritatively as she possibly could.

"Uh huh. Which was why you were looking at his biceps and abs the whole time right?" Missy said, grinning at her. Hannah saw the shark-like grin from the corner of her eye and decided that she had made a mistake. She should have come back at a later date where Missy wasn't around. She should have not made it obvious at all, or let anyone she knew know. Dammit. That much testosterone killed her decision making skills.

"Ok, what do you want Girly," Hannah said, deliberately using the word in hopes that it would trip Missy up. The frown on the younger girl's face telling her that Hannah's ploy had worked admirably.

"Well… you were here to make sure that Fred was a good guy right?" Missy asked, raising her eyebrows at Hannah.

"I see where you are going with this. I'll keep this a secret if you keep mine a secret too all right?" Hannah said, a bargain with the devil. The girl was maturing too fast and it was not something that Hannah thought was a good idea. She should be innocent, she was a child and shouldn't be involved in this, not like this. Life was too short to waste one's childhood.

"Sure, it will be our secret," Missy said, holding out her pinky for a swear.

Hannah grinned, it looked like Missy was still a little immature after all, hope had not been lost.

Hannah glared at Fred. She had thought that her own abilities had been sufficient, that they would be enough for her to cruise through the training. Sure it would be a little difficult, but judging from what Missy went through, she should have been able to do it with ease. Only Fred had apparently decided that she was serious about her application to learn and decided to design a regimen for her that included physical training that was taking her to the limits of her body and then shattering them.

For someone that knew exactly what she was capable of, seeing her body improve by leaps and bounds was certainly something new, a feeling that she could enjoy certainly. If it had not come with agonizing levels of pain that made her question what exactly drove Missy to experience this and decide that she still wanted to keep going.

It was a week of this. A week in which Missy was looking at her sympathetically as she did her own routine, only Missy had been graduated from doing a full time physical exercise course, unlike Hannah. Which meant Hannah had the obstacle room to herself as she filled the quota that Fred had demanded of her. Sure she could have simply ignored him, but dammit that grin, the way he just lifted his eyebrows at her, the way he just existed, the insufferable levels of smugness that pervaded his being.

No. Dammit. Hannah would not be giving him the satisfaction of knowing that she had not given her all in breaking the goals he had set. All of them were perfectly possible which was even worse, it was like he knew her own better than she did.

No, as Hannah stared at the ceiling, she was not giving up and she was for damn sure not allowing that man to beat her. She understood now why Missy had expressed a desire to crush him, Hannah never a person that wanted violence for the sake of it, had found herself daydreaming about knocking him down and stepping all over him. It would be so satisfying, on a metaphorical level of crushing the smug bastard and also having her feet on those delicious muscles.

Sure he was an ass, but that didn't take away from the sexiness incarnate that was his body.

Hannah groaned and stood up again, time for the twelfth set, her 30 seconds of break were over and as she hefted the 30kg bag off the ground, Hannah got moving. She was going to beat this damn goal if it took her the entire night.

Hannah glared at the ceiling. Only in this case, it was not because of an exercise that Fred had told her needed doing. Rather this glaring was because Fred had knocked her on her ass. Her, Miss Militia, the one hero that used lethal weapons and was used to doing this shit. She had been doing this since she was a child and this damned man just knocked her on her ass as if she was a newborn.

Hannah decided that she did not enjoy this feeling, she did not enjoy it one bit. Fuck him. Metaphorically and physically. Sure she had been knocked on her ass before, mainly from instructors and other heroes, but that grin, the way he radiated confidence, as if she would never be able to touch him.

Uuuurgh.

Hannah launched herself to her feet. She was going to put him down if it took her all day, week, month, year. She didn't care, she was going to destroy him. Hannah did not take a challenge lying down.

Spoiler: AN

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Nov 17, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 09

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 18, 2016

#49

His name was John Price, why? Because that was his name. He was a member of the Phantine Skyborne, why? Because he liked to get up and personal with his enemies. Sometimes a knife to the gut sent a better message than 10 thousand kilos of ordnance.

He was rather good at his job, one had to be when the whole idea was to drop you into enemy lines right after an airstrike. Right into the middle of a riled up hornet's nest that made Orks look fluffy. Well, it didn't matter anyway, it wasn't like he was dropping out of anything this time around. He had been summoned to join the Princess' Guard to serve as the eyes and ears of the garrison. They didn't even have a thousand troopers at the moment, something that was going to be hurting if they didn't fix that and soon.

You could conquer a city with 1 man, but you needed 10,000 to hold one. And if the Princess was telling the truth when she said she wanted to conquer the world? Well, she was going to need millions of troopers and the whole point limit thing was going to be hurting that.

Unless she wanted them to train up a few of the natives?

They were… slightly below average, and that was being generous. Price wasn't generous, why? Because he had learnt generosity got you killed. Budget what you need and nothing more, when you were dropping out of aircraft just this side of the atmosphere, going overboard was going to get you made into meat.

Price had learnt his lesson, he was good at that. As to what he was doing right now? At this exact moment in time? He was drinking. He was good at that. It helped ease the memories.

Unlike the other Guardsmen that had been summoned so far, he had served the longest of all of them. That included the Colonel, she was barely a babe by his standards, why? Because he had served for nearly 400 years at this point.

When one got as good as he did, you became very good at staying alive.

Pick your engagements, pick your targets, and they drop like flies. Even the most suicidal mission will be easy once you find exactly the weak point that you need to prod to make it topple over. It really wasn't that difficult as long as you had the knack for finding the weak points, luckily for him, he had that knack.

Too many others didn't. Which was why he was drinking. He had seen or heard hundreds under his command die, each one hitting him as hard as the last, why? Because he had never worked out the knack for not caring that other commanders mastered so early on.

When you were as close knit as the Phantine Skyborne, it meant that every single one of the members of his team was like family. They trained hard, they fought hard, they fucked up hard. He knew every single one of those under his command by name, their histories, their likes, their dislikes, even in some cases their pornographic preferences. When a Regiment consisted of barely 100 men, it was hard to not know each man and woman individually.

Impossible even.

He gave a brief glance at the drinks to his right. The bloody drinks at this place were too damn weak. He thought this was a bar? Who served 40% alcohol? What was this? A bar for civilians? Oh right. It was.

Why was he here again? Because he needed to get the scope on this Faultline woman. Had powers, was not a psyker which was something he needed to get used to. Usually, he would just put a bolt in the woman's head and just leave, none of this "see if she is on our side" crap. Just kill her already.

But.

The Princess wanted things to be done peacefully if possible, so he was here, making sure that peace was not possible, why? Because he didn't want to work with psykers, they always fucked up when you don't want them to and get everyone killed.

63 of his men had died because a psyker had fucked up, 63 men that he had personally trained, taught and regarded as family. Dead because some fucking lightning rod couldn't keep their brain dick in their skulls. But, orders were orders and he was going to follow them, even if he didn't like them.

If they were really worthy? Then maybe, maybe he would consider a positive report.

As for his partner in this particular foray, John "Soap" Mctavish, so named because he had an obsession with being clean that nobody could figure out the reason for (his asshole stank to high heaven if he didn't wash that once a day), was here with Price, why? Because apparently, Price was a "judgemental fuck" in the words of Sergeant Black, that big and ugly Catachan they had dredged up somewhere.

Captain Price had known the Catachan for 100 or so years, they had fought together on a few campaigns and he respected the man, even if he couldn't squeeze into a wetsuit to save his life. The man didn't know what the definition of clothing was half the time which was certainly amusing, also very worrying for the sexuality of those around him. Price included… sometimes.

Price wasn't afraid really, why? Because he was confident in his sexuality, that being anything under 100 thrones for a night. He was cheap, sure, he knew his limits.

It looked like there wouldn't be any of that here tonight, which was disappointing. What kind of bar didn't have prostitutes on payroll? Oh right, the civilian kind.

He was still waiting for the Faultline to drop down, he needed a quick gander to see if she was worth talking to before beginning negotiations. Sure she wasn't going to be covered in pentagrams and wearing the skulls of her enemies, but you never knew.

Never go into a Chaos Cultist's house on your own, things just didn't go well for you if you did. Unless you were one of those fucking Space Marines, didn't know the definition of stealth unless it bit them on their dicks and ripped their balls off. Fucking clockwork soldiers they were, made more noise than Soap in the shower. Assuming they had balls, there were stories from the Catachans how a few Space Marines they had "gutted" were missing the all too vital hammer and dongle. It was certainly something to consider, might explain why their crotch guards were so small compared to their pauldrons.

"What's got your goat Price?" Soap asks, because Soap fucking cares. Dammit Soap, let a man wallow in peace.

"Drunk." He replied, when you worked with a man for 200 years, you developed a very close understanding of each other. Shorthanded speech was all they needed really, it certainly made everything simpler. It was a matter of body language, tone of voice, length of the words, speed of speech and who knew what else. It was all subconscious in the end, instinctual even.

Drunk translated to: Can't get fucking drunk, where the fuck are the hookers at, why the fuck are we here?

Soap chuckled, the bastard. Always did like to jam knives into eyeballs, the sick fuck. Not that he could say any better, he liked the throats personally. Just a nice and simple little blade, not even a proper one even, some scrap metal, some twisted wire, and a nice throat to gently ease it in, and then? Well, things didn't go so well for them when Price got his hands on them.

"You two boys have been here a while, anything you want to share with the class?" Came a voice behind them. A distinctly female voice. One that was very authoritative. Just how Price liked them.

Turning around he stared at a woman who was wearing… riot gear? Like a Commissar mixed with an Arbites, a not unattractive combination now that he thought about it.

"Hmmm?" Price hummed out, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't a Phantine and wouldn't be understanding him very well.

"You two boys look a little too sharp to be just drinking. Anything I need to know about?" She asked. Must be Faultline. She was hot, sure, but she was a psyker, probably meant that she had no hair like the rest of them. Which was a pretty big turnoff, well that and the lightning that came out of their eyes when they got angry.

"She's good." Said Soap, always the nice guy. Just let her know they were watching her, sure that was a good idea. Fucking Soap. Could have denied it, 2 guys drinking in a bar, what would have given them away? Oh right… civilian bar, probably never saw 2 Phantines before in their lives.

"Of course she is. If she wasn't the Colonel wouldn't have sent us here now would she?" Price said, a little testily sure, but that wasn't his fault. He had come to this bar with expectations and they had not been met.

"As much as I am glad you are enjoying this, perhaps a little answer that the rest of us can understand?" She asked, sounding a little impatient. Which was hot, authoritative girls in riot armour were hot. He wasn't too picky about the face, as long as she wasn't a psyker, that was always a mood killer.

Good girls that met his specifications were few and far between sadly, always charged the sky for a quick insult and a jerk off. Depressing what a man resorted to in order to fill his fetishes.

"The Princess' Guard want to know whether or not you're going to stay neutral." Said Soap. Always direct he was, ready to give the benefit of the doubt until he needed to give the bolt, or bullet in this case.

The looks on their faces was gratifying, to see them look taken aback, almost afraid. The woman had been joined by what he assumed to be their team. A few mutants that had him twitching his hand towards the stubber at his hip.

The way all of them jolted back was funny enough to make up for their shite liquor. Something about the psykers here not wanting to go lethal which was fucking ridiculous in his opinion. What exactly was keeping you from just fucking over everything if could just walk away from shit alive?

Made about as much sense as his balls, but if that how they wanted to play it, why not?

"The Princess? Wait. Does that mean you guys are all from another universe, you know the big one with the golden guy and the SPEESH MARINES!?" Asked the mutant. The one with the tail and the orange skin. Just a coat of pink and he would be a daemonette, the urge to put a bullet in his head was nearly overwhelming, why?. Because in letting mutants walk around like they were actually people, the inhabitants of this universe were very worrying.

"Step back a little there Newter, you look a lot like the daemons that these guys shoot for a living." Said the one… in green. What was it about these people and wearing bright colours? Did they want to be made into targets?

"Woah. Oh right. Shit." The orange daemon said, stepping back a little.

"So the Princess wants to know if we're going to be neutral? Something big going on then?" Asked the Commissar.

"You could say that, not for a while, but it will be over in a night, so long term stability is not an issue. If you would stay neutral, it would make things easier, we don't want to have to kill anyone that we don't want to." Soap said, the soft bastard. Just kill the damned mutants and get on with it, it wasn't like they were worth anything, they were mutants!

Price reached out to grab the drink, golden in colour, apparently expensive. He wouldn't know, 100 in pieces of paper for a glass, probably worthless. Who used paper to buy shit?

"So this… 'big' thing, is going to be very violent I assume?" The Commissar asked, hand on her hip, looking just a little irritated apparently.

"If things do not go the way we plan it to. Of course, with us here, it will go the way we plan it to." Soap grinned. 200 years of killing, not enough to turn him into a cynical little prick like Price, too much for him to be that fresh faced little ponce that had turned up at his door the first time. Nostalgia, how it burned.

Explanation time!

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Nov 18, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 10

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George12

OAMU

Nov 18, 2016

#50

The questions had been asked, the Faultline crew or whatever they called themselves had agreed to stay Neutral, and everything had been solved satisfactorily. As for the rest of the time, well Price was sitting at a little round table along with the others of the Faultline crew, the green one with red hair, the orange one, the white one, the green one with yellow hair, the little khornate fucking one, the Commissar and Soap.

All of them were seated around the table, and Price was drinking. He wanted to get drunk, but the fucking mutants kept asking him questions. Seriously, who cared, just let an old man get drunk.

At least Soap was fielding most of them for him, good old Soap. Sure he was a little slow compared to Price, but that was because he hadn't spent another 200 years killing things yet. Price admitted he was fond of the man, like a son to him he was. Not those snot nosed little brats that he had somehow produced over the years.

Standard protocol really, each Phantine Skyborne was to pop a few kids, make sure that there would be more of them later. The women were ok with it, free accommodation and whatnot if they volunteered, the men that impregnated the women in the Skyborne got the same deal, look after the kids and they get paid. It all worked out in the end, perfect way to go about doing things in Price's opinion, he did his duty, he got to run away before the kids latched onto him, why? Because Price was a bitter old man and hope was dead to him.

Too many dead kids, too many dead friends, the old, the young, the middle aged, too much death altogether. He had killed far too many of all the above for him to give a damn.

"So… how do things work in the other universe?" Asked the orange daemon.

"How do you even know that we are from another universe in the first place?" Asked Soap. They had been briefed of course, they were the Skyborne and going into a situation blind was simply unprofessional. Apparently, they were from a fictional universe that the people here had thought up. There were inconsistencies, of course, the Caretakers didn't exist, Beacon Worlds, Warp-Lanes, the Mobile Suits. He couldn't imagine a campaign without a few Mobile Suits to back him up, the firepower was always welcome.

All of it was missing, and the universe itself was much worse than what it otherwise would have been, why? Because the Inquisition was many times worse, which was already stretching the limits of imagination, and the Imperium was at war almost non-stop for its entire existence with the Primarchs gone and nobody to lead them, there was nothing keeping the Imperium together at all.

Bureaucratic inertia, the worst enemy of the Imperium. He had "gotten" a few of the works via their communications network, or internet they called it. The theories as to why the Warp was the way it was made sense, but who gave a shit, he was a Captain in the Imperial Guard, he was the hammer of the Emperor. Everything else was a sidenote, if the higher ups wanted to go around screaming their heads off, who cared, he was just going to do his duty and that was that.

"Well… there's this universe called Warhammer 40k and like when you guys first showed up at the docks, someone pointed out how similar you guys were to the 40k stuff, like the tech-priests and stuff, and then you guys were using lasguns and stuff. And it was like, awesome you know? 40k man! Like Imperial Guard fighting against the enemy of mankind, all holding the line and shit! No matter the cost you know? It's so fucking cool man!" Price stared at the orange fucker. Did he think that it was cool? What did this little orange fuck know about war?

"Kid. You're looking at 600 years of experience killing the enemies of the Emperor between the two of us. Be careful what you say next." Said Soap, speaking for Price. Good lad that one, always stepping in before Price put a hole in the fucker in question. Always put a damper on a party when everyone could smell the shit and the brain matter.

"Oh… Ummm. Sorry." Said the Orange daemon.

"Yea, little bit of a sore point there lad, we've had to make hard decisions and it wasn't anything we would want to do again."

"Then why do you do it? Can't you just walk away?"

"Lad, you say you've seen where we come from. Tell me again what happens to deserters?"

"They get shot. Oh. Right." He looked a little down at that, good.

"Yes, right. We do what we do because we do, not because we can. Life ain't all sunshines and rainbow kid, don't go getting us confused with some do gooders. We aren't doing this out of the goodness of our hearts lad." He said, sitting back in the chair, spiel over.

"Ok. So. Um. What happens now?" Asked the Khornate impersonator.

"We've got 3 more hours allocated, we're going to spend them here, then head back to base."

"Where is your base?"

Price raised an eyebrow at the Khornate fucker, eyes boring into the eyepieces of her mask.

"Oh right. Confidential. Sure."

Price took another gulp of the glass. He wasn't sure what this was meant to be, but the fact that it had colour probably meant it was shite. Still, it was alcohol, he might as well drink it.

"Ummm. The other guy with you, is he going to be ok? He's gone through 6 bottles." Asked the green one, with the red hair. Too much green. Were they going for a jog in the forest later or something?

"What? Oh no, it'll be fine. This stuff is too soft to get us drunk. Can't even taste the alcohol. Makes me wish we had some ClearFyre or Amasec, that shit gives you a kick." Said Soap, gulping down his glass as well.

"That's 40% alcohol, it's the strongest we have." Said the Commissar.

"Only 40% no wonder it feels so weak. ClearFyre is 400%, Warp powers to condense it down, a bottle'll last you a deployment." Soap's voice was rather nostalgic and Price had to agree. That shit was the real alcohol. Not this piddly shit.

"Oh wow. That's intense." Said the Orange fucker.

"Not so much really, it's just bottom of the line, every Guardsman has a bottle in his backpack. That expensive shit that the Space Marines drink, that shit'll kill you." Said Soap, a grimace on his face. Just because they were normal humans meant they couldn't drink the alcohol of the gods, apparently the Fenrisian brews could knock a Primarch on his arse.

Or her arse. A skinny arse it was, but it was still an arse. The new Primarch was a spindly little thing but she was evening out, getting bigger as her powers increased or whatever the fuck it was. He didn't know, he didn't care. He had his orders, and he was going to carry them out… with a little leeway of course.

"So this Princess of yours. Ummmm. What is she? Why are you even here?" Asked the big white one.

"Emperor of Mankind's daughter." Said Price. Keeping it simple. Oh wait, they knew what a child of the Emperor was didn't they?

"Wait wait wait wait. Are you fucking kidding me? A Primarch? The 21st Primarch? Holy shit. We have a fucking Primarch on this planet. Oh shit. Holy shit. We are so fucked. But. Like. Awesome. It's fucking awesome. Awwww shit. Aw man. This is so awesome. Wait. Oh shit. Ooooooh shit." The Orange fucker was hyperventilating.

"Calm down Newter, what is it?" Asked the Commissar, that smoooth voice. Price could listen to that all day.

"The Princess is a Primarch. And the Primarchs are the ones who led the Great Crusade. She's going to conquer this planet isn't she?" Asked the Smart Orange Fucker.

Price raised an eyebrow, it looked like the Orange Fucker was quicker than he had given the Daemon credit for.

"Oh man. Fuck. So the reason you guys are preparing all of this is for her isn't it? Oh man. Like. You know?" Price's opinion of him took another nosedive as the daemon lost himself in his own train of thought.

"What he is trying to say is that the Princess is new and she isn't ready yet is she? That's why you're preparing all of this, so she can rise up and do her thing?" The green one with the red hair looked very disturbed.

"Doesn't that mean that we're going to be made into slave soldiers? They kill mutants in the Imperium you know? Oh man. This is fucked." Ah, the Orange fucker was back.

"Not necessarily, each Primarch is allowed to govern their world in the manner that they want it to be managed. So if the Princess takes over, doesn't that mean she can protect us?"

"But what if she is like the other Primarchs and executed mutants?"

"Well she was born here wasn't she? Won't that mean she's like… you know… compassionate?"

"Compassion in Brockton bay? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh right. Yeah. Ummm. Ok."

"Calm down. The Princess is built off of compassion, she won't be doing anything killing if she can help it, she's not that kind of person." Said Soap.

"A liability." Added Price.

"It doesn't mean that she is a liability, just that she's going to need to learn when and where she needs to put a lid on that compassion."

"Like I said, a liability. She's going to get good men killed if she keeps it up."

"It's why she put the Colonel in charge isn't it? Make the decisions that she can't?"

"And if she wants direct control? She's a Primarch, they aren't known for their sitting around." Muttered Price.

"You sound like you have experience. I thought the Primarchs were all gone?" Asked the Commissar.

"Don't know how it is in your stories, but our Primarchs and their Clones are still around. A few like Russ went missing, but the younger ones have stayed around. Price here fought with Angrone for a campaign." Explained Soap. The confusion on their faces was rather amusing, made up for their shite liquor at any rate.

"The lad's right. Served with Angrone, bastard didn't have the decency to slow down, had to fight in shifts to keep up with him. Fucking ridiculous it was." Price complained, his back still remembered having to sleep in moving Chimeras as the Primarch smashed on ahead. They had taken the planet in a month, but the entirety of the advance force, Space Marines included were wrecks by the end of it. The fucking Primarch looked like he had just finished a stroll.

Fucking ridiculous.

"Wait wait. Hold up. Clone Primarchs? Angrone? What?" Asked the Orange fucker.

"Your books didn't tell you? At around the end of the 31st Millennium, the Pillar of Penitence dropped out of the Warp and had the Clone Primarchs inside of it. All of them were still babies and the older Primarchs raised them up. A few of them took new names for themselves. Angrone is Angron's clone." Explained Soap.

"Wait wait. Cloning Primarchs? How? I thought they couldn't be cloned? What about the Traitor Primarchs?"

"Most of them are dead, killed by the Caretakers on Isstvan 4. The rest of them are still hiding in the Eye of Terror like the pansies they are. As for their Clones, they've proven themselves. No corruption here."

"Holy shit. That is insane. Totally changes everything."

"Yes, Sororitas Famulous Maxine has been looking through your archives. If the Caretakers had not arrived as they did following their mission, everything would have changed and probably not for the better. They've been instrumental in keeping the Imperium strong. If the stuff I've read about how our universe should have turned out is true, I'm glad the Caretakers arrived when they did, even if they are fucking weird." Soap never could keep his drinks, a few bottles of shite alcohol was still a few bottles of alcohol.

"You've mentioned these Caretakers a few times now, who are they?" Asked the Commissar, leaning forward. Price got an eyeful, looked like she was as flat as a lasgun, the little aquila was probably present though. Not that it mattered, her personality was key here.

Leaning back, Price waited for Soap's explanation, why? Because the lad liked to get on his soapbox. Price had a little mental chuckle at that.

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Threadmarks Interlude 11

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 18, 2016

#51

"So the Caretakers. They're… special. They're…"

"Wait wait. Can I record this? Is it ok if we post this online? I'll cover your faces and run them through a synthesizer to hide your voices! Oh, and I won't say anything about the world conquering either! Please!" The Orange fucker was certainly loud.

"Why not. It's not like it will matter much in the long run. It's basic history really." Said Price. Not giving Soap an out.

"Ok. Just wait here, I'll go and grab a camera." The Orange fucker shouted, running up the stairs.

"Just this ok? Anything else goes up and either we, or the Catachans are going to be paying you a visit. We'll even let you pick." Price continued, staring at the Commissar's faceplate. Her nod was enough to satisfy him. Leaning back he waited for the Orange daemon to come back down with his pict-recorder.

"Ok! I'm here! Let's get this baby set up!" The daemon said. Daemonnette? He didn't have an extra boob which ruled that out.

"Ooooook we're live! Wait. This is going live. Is that ok? Like people can see this in real time." He asked, looking at them with excitement.

"Sure, why not. Just let everyone who might want to gatecrash know that we've got a few Basilisks on standby." Price said, a little grin on his face.

"Wait… we've been targeted the whole time? Why didn't you say something!" Asked the Green and red one, even sounded a little upset.

"It was not relevant until this point." Price replied, putting his arm around the back of the chair.

"That was all live right?" He asked the Orange fucker.

"Ummm… yeah. All of it."

"Good, I don't like repeating myself. Any gatecrashers are going to be killed. Don't make me kill you, cooked human never goes well with liquor." Price said.

"Ok. So now that that is out of the way. Let's get started." He finished. Giving way for Soap to start speaking.

Only to be interrupted by that Orange fucker again as he asked, "could you introduce yourselves first? It would make it easier for those watching to know what is going on."

"Captain Price, previously of the 978th Phantine Skyborne, now the Princess' 1st Guard." Price grunted.

"Captain Mactavish, same as previous."

"How long have you been in service?"

"403 years, 7 months, 4 days."

"198 years."

"How did you get so old? Don't humans have a lifespan?"

"Of course we do. Juvant treatments lad, regrows the tele-whatmathing, reverses the aging process, let's old warhorses like us get back into the fight." Soap explained.

"What did you do while you were in the Imperial Guard?"

"It's the Astra Militarum lad. I killed things. Sometimes people, sometimes Space Marines, sometimes daemons, sometimes Tyranids. Doesn't matter, when you've served as long as I have, you get to kill lots of things. When I wasn't killing, I was training to kill more efficiently." Price said. He was a Guardsman, what did the Orange fucker think he did?

"Lad, when you join the Guard, there ain't much that you're going to be doing. You kill, you kill some more, then you die. That's the way things work out, especially for guys like us. All we know is killing, it's the same answer you're going to get from any of the Guardsmen that are part of the Princess' Guard. We're all veterans lad, even the greenest has been in more battles than years you've lived." Soap said, wordy as ever.

"So what is this Princess of yours planning to do while she's here?"

"Simple really. Kill the Endbringers. Bring order to the world. Rejoin the Emperor." Price muttered.

"What."

"Her orders lad. Kill the Endbringers as a test, unite the world, then rejoin her skeleton dad." Prince winced a little as Soap punched him on the arm, heresy wasn't as heavily scrutinized as in the this universe's written stuff but it was still disrespectful.

"Language Price, wouldn't want one of those Sisters finding something to chop off do we?"

"Right right. Ok lad. Anything else?"

"Ok theeeeen. I think that's enough of an introduction for our viewers. So let's get into the nitty gritty of it. You guys are from the 40k Universe as we call it, but also not, it's different and in a pretty big way apparently. Can you explain why?"

"Ok, the main point of divergence I can see in the universe that you know of, and our own, is that the Caretakers are present in our continuity while they are absent in your own."

"And these Caretakers are significant?" Asked the green one with the red hair. She was very clearly getting into it, elbows on the table, deeper tone of voice, wide grin on her face, mischievous glint of the eye. She was confident, maybe there was a Trump card to be had.

"Yes, the Caretakers are 2 Space Marine Legions that were sent on a mission by the Emperor of Mankind. Only something went wrong and they were stuck inside the Warp for 300 years. During that time they discovered many different technologies that have since proven their worth in the greater Imperium upon their return. At the same time, they discovered many worlds on their journey which they claimed as their own and have ruled them ever since." Soap demonstrated his Public School education as he regurgitated what must have been a very thick book.

Price closed his eyes and let it all wash over him, heightening his other senses in case there was something coming.

As for the story, he had heard Soap tell it a hundred times before to curious new troopers. It would be a nice way to help himself relax, if he concentrated, it was as if he could smell the promethium they used for the campfires.

"... ruled them ever since."

The Heroes had accepted an emergency summons by Armsmaster and were now clustered around a desk which had a screen on it. A screen that showed them what looked to be 2 men, each covered in scars that spoke to what must have been a lifetime of combat, which if they weren't lying… was a very long life to have lived. Their faces were covered, but their arms, necks, throats… each was like a canvas to demonstrate war, bullets, burns, cuts, and more.

"Sooooo if he's telling the truth… every single one of the Princess' troops is going to be some kind of killing machine?" Asked Assault.

"You don't know that. He could be lying." Said Battery, bopping him on the arm.

"Regardless of their actual amount of experience, each of them is already quite capable. Only the top 10% of each planet's militias are allowed in, which puts them at the level of our special forces." Said Dragon over the speaker. She had seen the livestream link go up on PHO and alerted Armsmaster in the first place.

"Why don't we just go down there and catch them? There's just 2 of them." Asked Velocity.

"They said that there were Basilisks on standby. Eyeballing each shell from the models available, each cannon appears to be approximately 250mm in caliber, nearly twice that of the standard artillery shell in popular use. And given the rather famous callousness that the Imperial Guard demonstrate to lives, friendly or otherwise, it is likely they are willing to die rather than be captured." Dragon replied.

"They also have laser weapons, I am not sure that it would be a good idea to try and catch them when they are waiting for someone to do that."

"Well, fuck. So what? We just watch?"

"Yes Assault, we just watch. It's information that we can use."

"Well, I'm going to leave that to you guys with your photographic memory. I'm out, give me the lowdown when it's over alright?" Assault said, walking out of the room.

Battery looked undecided before she joined him, it wasn't like she would understand what was going on. She left all the random geeking out to her husband.

"Why don't we just go and like fucking kill them you know? Just like fucking roll up and throw these bombs and explode them all over the fucking place. Basilisk my ass, I can make a bigger bomb with my toes." Bakuda whined, staring at the little screen that was in front of her. The Skyborne's arrogance in the way he just sat there and taunted her through the screen demanded an accounting of.

"No."

"You're Lung! Just charge in there and fuck them up!" Bakuda said piteously, her face twisted into what was likely her attempt at garnering sympathy. Which behind a gas mask did not work so well. Expressions in general, did not work out so well when one was looking from behind a gas mask. Something to consider for the future perhaps.

"I am Lung the Dragon. I am also Lung the Leader. I am not stupid Bakuda, one does not walk into a trap as well baited at this. We wait. Should the White thugs seek to strike, we shall cripple them in turn." The Dragon of Kyushu said, the cozy boy armchair that he was sinking into hiding part of his enormous body.

"But they control the docks! We can't get our shit in!" Cried out Bakuda, whirling around to face him.

"A temporary inconvenience. Does striking here rectify the situation in any way? You are allowing your anger to blind you. It is foolish. Focus your anger, and do it soon. I do not tolerate impertinence Bakuda." He said, voice flat. Even still, Bakuda flinched, she heard the threat implicit in the voice.

"Yes, boss."

"Good. Now watch. There may yet be something to learn from this." He finished, sitting back, bubble tea held in his enormous hand, sipping away contently. None of that sago shit, rainbow jelly for the rainbow man.

"Kaiser. They are daring us to strike at them. Why do not we accept?" Asked Hookwolf, standing at attention watching the large screen in Kaiser's sanctum. The other capes of the Empire 88 were here, each of them dressed, ready to sortie out if necessary.

"As my son oh so helpfully has told me, a Basilisk is the standard artillery piece of this 'Imperial Guard', each shell is approximately half the size of a man. Do you wish to test your resistances Hookwolf? What of the men you wish to send?" Drawled out Kaiser, his voice throbbing with underlying tension. The Princess' Guard as they called themselves had taken the docks and their probes against them had shown that they were very well entrenched. It would take a full assault to dislodge them and the casualties would be horrendous, leaving them vulnerable to attacks by the ABB. At least the Merchants had been destroyed. A small sliver of silver in an otherwise dreary day.

"Then we are to watch? Watch as they parade themselves before us? I will lead the attack! We will show them what it means to strike at the Empire! We will crush them!" Hookwolf growled out, his power activating in the heat of the moment, his arms and legs being consumed by the blades.

"And what would you do but prove that we are nothing but opportunistic cowards? Should we attack now, it will be all over the world Hookwolf, there will be no way to deny it, and should you be defeated… the stain will be permanent. No, you will not venture out tonight. There is too much at risk." Kaiser said, leaning back onto the throne in the center of the room.

All of them were frustrated which was very clear, the way each of them expressed it was different, but it was universal in the manner in which they craved to be let out and rage about. The manner in which they had been suppressed for months by the Princess' Guard eating away at them. He should not be so weak as to allow it to happen, but it was happening regardless, simmering away underneath their skin.

There would be a reckoning, but it would not be today, not for 2 of their own that were likely not even important, minor characters at best.

It was a bad trade and the Empire did not make bad trades.

Piggot had been part of a PRT response team, she knew what soldiers looked like. The men on the monitor before her were very much soldiers, very much weapons honed to a fine edge. She could see that in the way they held themselves, spat at the world in defiance. It had only confirmed what she had been considering as of late. That each and every one of this so called "Princess' Guard" were an outfit of proper soldiers, not refuse picked up on the street and armed like the other gangs.

Regardless of whether or not they were summoned from another universe, the fact that they held their weapons with such familiarity, spoke of killing as if it were just a chore… well, it meant that trying to dislodge them would be nothing but a pain for her and the PRT.

If it kept going the way it was however, there was going to be increasing pressure from up above to deal with them, something she was not sure she could do. What was she going to do? Ask them to let her men walk into range to foam them down? Foolish. But those in Washington were anything but intelligent she was finding out.

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Threadmarks Interlude 12

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 18, 2016

#52

"... have ruled them ever since."

"They emerged again from the Warp in the days of the Horus Heresy which you have recorded down in rather stunning detail I might add. The difference being that at Isstvan 4, when the ambush was sprung by the Traitors against the Loyalist Legions, the Caretakers emerged shortly afterward and dropped to the surface. They demonstrated abilities which allowed them to cripple and destroy the Daemons of the Traitor Legions, cutting most of their advantages away, and ruining a large part of their assault force. At the same time, those later identified as Caretaker Captains dropped and personally killed the Traitor Primarchs, Lorgar, Perturabo, and Konrad Curze, dispelling their souls permanently.

"Following this, they disappeared again after crippling or destroying the Traitor fleets over Isstvan 4. Reappearing again over Prospero as it was about to be attacked by the Space Wolves, the Caretakers then told the Primarch Leman Russ of the truth regarding Horus and resulted in Magnus following Russ to Terra instead of trying to destroy one another. Their fleet appeared and reappeared over many different worlds that were under Traitor assault and destroyed the Traitors, crippling much of their fleet before reappearing over Terra just as the Primarch Horus was destroyed and the Emperor crippled.

"The Chaos fleet was breaking apart without Horus to lead them, and the Caretakers emerged just at the right time to catch them. They enfolded the fleet, crippled the ability of the fleet to drop into the Warp and then destroyed almost every ship in the Traitor fleet with the assistance of the Terra defence fleets, or rather what was left of the Terra defence fleets. It was rather quick compared to other conflicts or so I am told, the Caretakers brought with them 2 Glorianna-class Battleships, several Battle Barges, a few dozen cruisers and frigates as well as complimentary craft. The Traitors didn't have a chance."

"Wait wait. You're saying that these Caretakers basically dropped in everywhere that was a key point in the Horus Heresy and basically averted it? Like, what the hell? Could they have known about it in advance?" Asked the Orange fucker.

"There is speculation as to that effect but there has been nothing proven as of yet. The Caretakers have provided a great deal to the Imperium of Man and it would be foolish to seek corruption where there is none." Said Soap diplomatically, no point angering the Caretakers, there were too damned many of them and they were everywhere.

"Right, but could they have been sent by Chaos? Like, that much coincidence is worrying you know?" Asked the Orange Daemon.

"No, it is not possible. I will explain why in a moment. So, the Caretakers following the destruction of the Traitor fleets sent emissaries to the Primarchs that were gathered to discuss what was to be done following the crippling of the Emperor and an Empire without a leader. It was here that the first of the strangeness that came with the Caretakers was discovered. In fact, the Caretakers themselves are extremely strange on all levels, which will become evident as I explain.

"So the Caretakers arrived and began to talk to the Primarchs and it was revealed, that the leader of the Caretaker Delegation and half of the members were female."

"Wait. Hold up! That's not possible. You can't have female Space Marines! Each one is created from a Primarch, and all the Primarchs were male! You can't have female Space Marines! That's what the Sororitas is for! What the fuck man, that's just breaking all the fucking lore!" The Orange fucker shouted.

"I know not of how a Space Marine is supposed to function according to this universe, but in ours, there are female Space Marines. It is due to the corruption of their bodies after their prolonged stay in the Warp. 300 years is enough time to experience many mutations and fully half of the Caretakers were made female as the time passed." Soap said.

"Wait, so half of them are female, so that means that there were 125 thousand female Space Marines?"

"No, there were 250 thousand female Space Marines. The Caretakers were two legions joined into one by their experiences in the Warp."

"Holy shit, 500 thousand Space Marines right after the Horus Heresy, the Primarchs were probably thrilled by that weren't they?" The Orange Daemon said, cutting out the green and red one.

"Yes, which is where the next part of the story begins. The Primarch Roboute Guilliman wished for the Legions to the sundered to prevent another Horus Heresy, no Primarch would ever again control such a powerful force on their own. The others agreed if reluctantly but the Caretakers took a… different approach to the problem. You see, there was the technology that the Caretakers discovered which played a very large role in the way that the Caretakers handled the Second Founding." Soap took a breath here.

"Do you have something which I can draw on? You will need an illustration for this." He asked, the green and red one leaping to her feet to assist. Running to the bar and then turning back, she produced a sheet of paper… and a metal rod? What was Soap meant to do with that? These fucking people, did they not have quills?

"Here you go." She chirped, placing the items in front of Soap.

Price despite himself was interested, how did the little stick work?

"Ummm… put the pointy end on the paper and press down." Said the white one.

"Thank you, we do not have these in the Imperium, such a waste of material would never be accepted by the Mechanicus." Soap replied.

"Oh."

"Regardless, here it is." Soap presented his drawing, what looked like a large hourglass with a hole in the center, a Beacon.

"This is what is called a Beacon. It is a device that flattens out the Warp and allows for predictable and safe Warp travel in a certain radius around it, while also allowing for the ability to link to other Beacons within a certain distance, which allows for the flattening effect to be transferred outward, like a road. We call them Warp-Lanes and they have been instrumental in the deployment of the Astra Militarum across the Imperium, and to allow for the regularization of trade, allowing us to support many more Hive Worlds, which in turn allows us to support many more Regiments."

"So Warp travel is safe? Like no more ships getting lost in the Warp?"

"Well partly. They can still be lost if they do not travel along the Warp Lanes, and the Beacons themselves are not covering the entire Imperium, they simply do not have the manpower for that."

"Manpower?"

"Yes, you see, the Beacons are the reason as to why the Caretakers cannot simply divide themselves into Chapters like the rest of the Legions. During the 300 years in the Warp, the Caretakers themselves discovered these Beacons and how to produce them, but to activate one, you needed to bind yourself to the Beacons. Which meant that each Caretaker's soul is locked to their Beacons, when they die, they do not get to join the rest of humanity with the Emperor, but are instead doomed to be bound to the Beacons themselves for all eternity. Their sacrifice is what allows the Imperium to be as prosperous as it is today, only through the constant sacrifice of the Caretakers is it possible."

"Oh shit. Wow. That's fucked."

"Yes, the Caretakers have the ultimate duty in life and in death, for them, death is not an end to their duty, it is merely a new chapter in it. It does however, grant them abilities which allows for them to do things that other Space Marines simply cannot. Each is a small Beacon in themselves, able to flatten out the Warp, which is why Daemons cannot exist near them. Some have weaponized this and that was the cause for the destruction of the Traitor Primarchs.

"As a result, the Caretakers agreed to divide themselves, but only by Beacon, spreading throughout the Imperium to provide safe and quick passage through the Warp and ensuring the Imperium would always be connected. There are roughly 1000 active Caretakers per Beacon World, I will explain why in due time.

"The Caretakers themselves divided in two, however, The Caretakers and the Sojourners. The Caretakers had spent 300 years without contact of the outside world and thirsted for knowledge, and so the Sojourners comprise half the Caretakers and spread themselves to every single planet in the Imperium, several of them per world. There they gather knowledge, intelligence and disseminate it to those that require the information. The Sojourners themselves are open to any and all Space Marines, so many of the Legions dispatched large numbers of their own Legions to the Sojourners in order to allow them to maintain their numbers, while also technically following Roboute's demand for a sundering.

"As for the Caretakers themselves, it has been theorized that the Beacons feed on their emotions. And so as the Caretakers grow older, they become more and more desensitized to the world around them until it reaches the point where they become little more than Servitors. It is at this point that they are forced to return to a Beacon World where their emotions are returned to them by direct stimulus of the soul, torture in other words. As a result, there are many times the number of incapacitated Caretakers on each world compared to that of active Caretakers. As for the Sojourners, they rotate themselves as Caretakers when they need Stimulus, and rejoin the Sojourners when they are fresh enough to be able to experience the galaxy in full.

"Each Caretaker or Sojourner lives a life filled with constant suffering and eventual damnation, but they do their duty with a diligence that brings pride to all who see them. The manner in which they have assisted the Imperium is great beyond measure, and with the works you have detailing an alternate version of our own universe, we can finally tell what it would have been like had the Caretakers not survived their journey in the Warp. The Imperium would have been poorer as a result and I am not sure we would have survived as long as we have."

"That sounds like shit. Why would anyone ever become a Caretaker?" Asked the Orange fucker.

"Duty, it is a duty to the Imperium, one soul in exchange for millions more." Soap said, with as much dignity as possible. Which was not very much since he had drunk another 2 bottles during that explanation.

"You said they are weird, that sounds like lots of suffering, but what's so weird about it?" Asked the green and red one.

"Well, it is known that for some reason, the Caretakers become more capable as they grow older. Those over the 500 year mark often discard their Power Armour entirely as it is too slow for them and offers less protection than their own skin. However, the Emperor is a fair God and so curses the Caretakers at the same time. As they grow older and more powerful, they also become more eccentric and insane. It is not uncommon to see some Sojourners leading a battle wearing no clothing but instead wielding two power axes singing a song in a language that nobody knows, not even the cultists they are too busy chopping up. It is extremely worrying and strange and also disturbing to those that watch it. Other times there are Sojourners known for doing stunts that would be deemed suicidal anywhere else, some have jumped out of ships in low orbit to make impact on the ground without a grav-chute or even a parachute. Sometimes they break bones, but most of the time they emerge with little to no damage.

"They are fully insane and it is recommended to all Imperial Guardsmen to keep their distance in case they are drawn along in their insanity. They are all extremely capable, some even use 1 Heavy Bolter in each hand like regular Bolt Pistols, they are just very peculiar and it is better to keep your distance if you want to live." Soap finished.

"What about exterminatus' and stuff? Like the Inquisition going around and killing everyone who knows of Chaos and that kind of stuff?"

"Eh, things have changed from what you've probably read. The last time there was an exterminatus was when we lost Tigeriun to the Orks, the bastards were building something like 58 Gargants on the planet. As for the Inquisition doing "their thing", they can't do that anymore."

"What? Why?"

"Because, the Caretakers and the Sojourners, their flattening of the Warp? That kills Daemons. Add enough of them into an area and they can do this communal ceremony where they purge an entire world without needing to destroy it. Fucking ridiculous but it works. No more exterminatus' no more just purging populations for knowing about Chaos. They even have classes where they teach you how to recognize signs of Chaos and what to do. The Inquisition can't do anything since they are so big and powerful which really fucks with them let me tell you. Then there's the Sojourners which accept quests from normal people on their little message boards, so the investigation work that the Inquisition is meant to do, is usually done by the Sojourners anyway.

"The Inquisition has been made into an organization that mainly hunts Xeno now and higher up corruption which really gets to them believe me. They want to take down the Caretakers, but they can't, they're too important to the Imperium. Can you imagine what would have happened if the Imperium was left without the Caretakers? The Inquisition probably would ruin everything and make everyone live in fear. Thankfully the Caretakers prevented that. Peace and all that you know? The Imperium is much more tolerant now which is great. I worship the Flying Spaghetti monster myself."

"Wait wait. Hold the fuck up. You worship the flying Spaghetti Monster? Why are you still alive?"

"I don't understand? We have freedom of worship in the Imperium. While the Emperor is a God, there are also other Gods in the galaxy, so we know that he's not the only one out there."

"But don't you need to worship the Emperor? Like pray to him and stuff?"

"We do that through our Judicial System and our Bureaucratic system, no need to do it more. Can you imagine just praying all day? Would totally fuck someone up."

"But how?"

"Every time someone files a piece of paperwork, follows the law, judges a criminal, all of it is a prayer to the Emperor. Praying is just unfocused faith, totally worthless. Every time I reload my carbine, file a requisition form for more ammunition, wear my uniform properly, I worship the Emperor by following the requirements and law set in place by the High Lords of Terra. The Imperium is much more tolerant now, than ever before."

"But how does that even work?" The Orange fucker was looking more and more confused.

"Well, time's up, let's pick this up some other time hmm?" Price stood up, hauling Soap up at the same time. Let the Daemon wallow in it's curiosity, that and they needed to get back before the window of opportunity closed. The Psyker was a tempremental fuck.

"When?" Came the call from behind.

"How about next week hmmm?"

"Got it!"

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George12

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Nov 19, 2016

#74

"Dude dude. Act cool. Katrin's coming over." Said Neil, his voice betraying a minor amount of nervousness and fear.

"Fuck fuck. Ok. Cool, acting cool." Said Bob, Emperor of Mankind. "Fuck me is she scary." He said, "Also really hot." He continued.

He didn't get to where he was by being cautious.

"What are the four of you doing?" Asked Katrin. Lilith was being held against her waist while Adam was holding her hand. They were going for a stroll in the newly completed Hitchhiker quarters created specifically for them by MAGI.

Bob was a permanent resident here, when he wasn't trawling the Multi-Verse with Malcador looking for babes and new experiences that is. The Caretakers of Bastion 001 who weren't on duty came by every now and again when they had free time to relax, it was a very nice and varied little place. Only it was also enormous in the eyes of the various uplifted organics who called this place home.

A flat disc the size of a galaxy, it was filled with the biomes of every single different environment that the Caretakers had ever discovered, while also containing enough teleporters that one was never more than 6 hours from anywhere else.

Every single client race had a habitat for them to live in if they so wished, large enough for a few million of their number. It was where the ambassadors for each race resided in order to maintain contact with each other and more importantly, with MAGI. The Krogan, the X-Humans, C-Humans, Yaomo, Eldar, various aliens from the Star Wars Universe, some higher ranking Caretakers, all of them were welcome.

Then there were those like Bob, Malcador, the Librarian, Adam, Lilith and Sofija who resided in the center due to their unique status as having been invited individually by the Caretakers. It was to concentrate them in a single area for maximum enjoyment of their interactions.

In this case, Bob was about to begin the trolling part of the plan that he and MAGI had worked out. It had been a blow to his ego when he had realised that he was nothing but a fictional character in another universe, one that didn't even have a proper name.

Galling really, he would have to pay them a visit and show them that he was very much real and was very annoyed at their portrayal of him.

This Taylor Hebert was going to be very interesting, she had an inner core of goodness that just radiated from her. Very interesting, the last time he had met someone like that, they had been killed trying to help an Ork with a toothache.

"Just helping out Taylor. Nothing bad. Promise." Neil said, hands palm out to show his innocence.

They were all very interested in being innocent, Katrin was very attached to children, and Taylor qualified. If she found out they were playing with her, even if it was harmless, their days would be very short and very painful for the foreseeable future.

She raised her eyebrows at them. "Really….?" She drawled, the disbelief evident in her voice.

"And it takes the four of you to do that?" She asked, her eyebrows rising even higher, almost to her hairline. She was doing something weird with her cells to do that they were sure.

"Umm well, we're just helping Bob out, he doesn't know how to talk to 15 year old girls" Said Malcador, quick on the ball, just as his position as advisor to the Emperor of Mankind entailed.

Normally they wouldn't be so worried, what with the two of them being extraordinarily powerful psykers that could probably crap out warpstorms if they really wanted to. The danger came more from the two little figures attached to Katrin, each one had enough strength to implode entire worlds if they really wanted to which was terrifying in and of itself. None of them wanted to test out just how far they were willing to listen to Katrin who was pretty much their mother at this point.

Bravery in the face of danger was one thing, insanity to not know when you should step down was another. In this case, it was better to accede, especially if she got Hannah to come over. Both of them were scary in their own ways, one with her fascination with knives that made the Dark Eldar look like shitty pre-schoolers, and the other with her ability to crush another's mind and assume total dominance over it.

Better to just follow along and agree to not fuck with Taylor Hebert, it would be best for their sanity.

"Good. She's a poor girl and doesn't need someone else screwing with her. If you do and I find out about it… well, you know what's going to happen right?" Asked Katrin, her eyebrows raised in that particularly threatening manner that she was so good at.

"Yes." The four of them chorused.

Say what you want about the HeMUs and the Minds, but they certainly had a way of making someone feel small. Even if he was the Emperor of Mankind, he was only the ruler of a single galaxy, the Minds had millions under their control if you counted the ones they made copies of to toy with the inhabitants of.

Oh well, it was time to begin trolling operation #1. They wouldn't be doing anything bad to the girl, just setting up her personality and nudging her powers in such a way that when Throne Emperor found her, and she was fully moulded and someone that was very much going to be different from what he would be expecting.

Bob had found out about the Primarch clones and had laughed about that for hours. 36 Primarchs? What couldn't be done with that many of them? Well, more like 26, the other 9 had gone traitor, but that was still a ridiculous number of super humans running around. That and the Caretakers, of which there were millions of, millions of Space Marines, because of course there were.

It was like Throne Emperor's universe was a dumping ground for every practical joke that the Minds could think up and when he woke up, he was going to be having a very bad day. It would be glorious.

Bob liked practical jokes, even if they were being carried out on himself, he could take a joke, so long as the person who was telling it was willing to die afterwards of course. Given that Throne Emperor would be weaker than he was, well he was going to be having a very good day all things considered.

His own Primarchs wanted to head down to the planet where the Taylor girl was, meet their sister and more importantly, punch some giant monsters. He was tempted to allow them, it would be rather funny if not for the fact that Throne Magnus was already in contact with the girl.

Oh well, he would figure something out. His Magnus was certainly getting antsy, meeting a new sibling as not something one did every day after all.

Back on Earth Bet

I'm going a little crazy here. There's another voice in my head. Because of course, it would, this was just how the universe worked, wasn't it? My head is just a waystation for any and all disembodied voices to come, talk their heads off and then leave again.

I looked up at the sky… or concrete as yet another voice entered my head. Another one. Yes. Totally what I wanted.

There had been Magnus, he had been very nice, explaining how my powers worked, how to make sure I was not over-extending, how to cope, all the things that I would need "going forward as the most powerful and only psyker on your planet", [his words not mine] for now at least.

Give another few months and I would also be the most physically capable human on the planet, able if I wanted to, fight an Endbringer one on one and emerge out the other side on top. What was important that I build my power base so that I can take this planet by peace when able, and force only when necessary. Again, his words. They sound a little too posh for someone like me.

If I didn't listen, I risked the problem that I might go and demolish everything, screw it all up. Our powers mess with our heads apparently, make us think we are more important than we are. Have to keep perspective or everything goes wrong. That and I am still Taylor no matter how much power I have now. Which means that I am very much not going to go and kill people. Maxine and Sergeant Black and the others keep telling me that I need to do it, but I don't want to.

But if I don't? Doesn't that mean that they are killing on my behalf anyway?

One could not conquer the galaxy without broken worlds or something like that. It sounded horrific and I am not sure I wanted any part in that. But Hurosius had shown me the graphs, the pie charts, mankind was doomed in 20 years at the most, the Endbringers would destroy mankind, and where they were unable to, force mankind to destroy itself. The current systems of governance were impractical, ineffectual, or at worst, actively damaging the future. I… I don't want to be here. Why do I have all this responsibility?

Why me?

Taylor Hebert possessed the power, I had the armies, she had the guidance, all I needed to do was just flex my power muscles apparently. It would mean that she would lead the armies, crushing all who opposed me underneath the treads of her army, something that would result in death, thousands if not millions of them. It sounded so good when I said it, but now… now reality was here and it wanted it's stuff back.

She/I was unwilling, to say the least, why couldn't this happen to someone else? I was a 15 year old girl. This was not how I should be spending my life, but that was stupid I can't complain, the world was not one where those with power had the luxury to choose their fates.

There had already been deaths, the Docks had been captured, the Merchants almost wiped out with Skidmark and Squealer dead. It had not been by my order, but it had been by my men, working on how they thought would best accomplish my goals. I had done it, I had killed them, unwittingly, but that did not matter. Their deaths were on my head and things were already going wrong with my body.

She simply did not care. I did not care. I did not care that they had been killed by my involvement and that was more terrifying than anything else so far. I was changing and whether or not I would still be Taylor in the end, was something I was not sure about. If it started with my inability to care about the deaths of a few Merchants, where did it end?

She/I was a Primarch, the pinnacle of human development, didn't that mean I would still be able to care?

It was then that the voice came into my head and spoke in a tone of voice that was so deep that it may as well have been through a funnel.

"Taylor. I am The Emperor of Mankind. I am your Progenitor. You may call me the Emperor of Mankind."

I stared at the wall opposite of me for a while. My room, a little one, with a bed, a desk, chair and drawer. I had refused the bigger one that was even bigger than my house that Maxine had said was meant to be mine originally, I didn't need that. What would I do with all that space? If anything I would probably get lost while inside.

Regardless the voice was in my head and I was unsure as to what I was supposed to do at this point. Reply like what I had done with Magnus? But this was the one that gave Taylor, me, my powers, wouldn't that be disrespectful? Wracked by indecision, I was unsure as to what it was I was supposed to be doing in the first place. No matter how much my body had changed, I was still the unsure child of yesteryear.

"Ummm… hello?" I said, tentatively in my mind and out loud.

"Speak with more confidence girl. I will not have my child so quivery. It says bad things about my seed."

I blushed slightly, I had gone to Winslow, I knew what he was talking about and it wasn't exactly the nicest of topics to bring up first thing. Especially since this was meant to be my father.

"Ummm… How should I speak then?"

"Lose the Ummm. It makes you weak. Always speak with confidence even if you don't know what you are saying. You are a Primarch, act like it."

"Ummm… ok. I mean, Ok."

"Good. I have all the time in the galaxy, what with me being a floating shard of a soul disconnected through no fault of my own. Damn sexy Eldar. No matter. I have time to teach you. I shall make you into a Primarch if I have to teach you myself. Which I will. There is nothing I can't do, I am the Motherfucking Emperor. I probably had sex with your Great-Great-Great-Great-Something Grandmother whatever it was. You have 1% of my genes, be thankful."

I felt a headache coming. My spiritual father was… interesting and it was going to get old fast, I just knew it.

122

George12

Nov 19, 2016

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 19, 2016

#75

Taylor was standing inside a vast room that was made entirely of a ferrocrete base with a ceramite outer layer as requested by the Emperor through her of the Kriegers. They had made it without much fuss, somehow able to pull material from thin air to do so, it was something that was certainly very strange but who knew how these things worked back in their original world. It certainly sounded strange enough with the whole insane people with superpowers thing.

As for Taylor, the Emperor had brought her here to test out her power set. Each of her brothers had their own specific area in which they were the most powerful, some with their physical abilities, others with their specific abilities for psykic power, others still with their intellect and ability to inspire others. Of all her brothers, only Magnus displayed the same breadth of psykic skills as their father had.

All of it was due to their psykic powers manifesting themselves in a particular manner to create something that was in a word, different. It was both a matter of nature and nurture, where each Primarch had a specific nature that was going to shine through no matter how much they changed, while the specific circumstances of their birth meant that each Primarch was also a product of their environment.

As for Taylor herself, she was yet unmolded, untested. Her specific abilities, her attributes were not yet catalogued. She herself did not know her speciality and it was why she was here in the first place. Her specific powers would be tested, her physical abilities, her psykic potential (which was already high judging by her ability to converse with the Emperor unaided), her mentality, and how much being a Primarch had changed her both physically and mentally.

It was a long list of things to do and Taylor let out a sigh, things were going to looong and the Emperor was not exactly willing to let her have breaks. The fact that she was a Primarch meant she was going to be able to go without sleep for days, which in turn meant that she was going to be in here power testing for days.

She had summoned a few more squads to max out her point limit, absently going by the requested section. A few more Catachans, a few Phantine Skyborne squads, a few more Death Korps of Krieg squads, a few Chimeras or whatever it was they were called, a Basilisk, and something else she had forgotten, it sounded pretty scary, though. She had just pressed a few buttons and put the summoning point in the middle of the biggest hangar that they had, she wasn't exactly sure why they needed all this, but the Colonel she had summoned said it was necessary.

Taylor was the Primarch, not the girl in charge of the military and she had given the ok, summoned whatever it was she wanted from a list then left for the training room. After a quick hug for her dad and a few words with Maxine about postponing their next lesson.

Maxine had been reluctant at first, but once Taylor mentioned that the Emperor was keen on testing her powers, the Sororitas had done an about turn so fast Taylor wasn't sure she hadn't drilled a hole in the floor. Apparently, the Emperor was a really big thing in their home universe.

Of course. I am the Motherfucking Emperor

And was also very talkative.

Still, she was here now.

What am I supposed to do now? She asked in her mind. Hopefully, he wouldn't say something like "summon a loaf of bread" and expect her to work it out on her own. She wasn't Myrddin, she was just Taylor Hebert, totally not a magical girl until a few months ago apparently.

She sighed again. Being put on the spot was something that was certainly worrying when it came down to it. She didn't like to be out on her own where someone could laugh at her and she didn't even have a partner to hide behind.

Stop moping. You are the first Female Primarch, stop being such a baby. Now! Let's get started. You need to try and make flames. Go. Get going. Go go go.

Taylor resisted the urge to facepalm. Here she was hoping that he wouldn't be asking the impossible from her, and here he was, asking the impossible. Was it too much to ask that people not do that? It wasn't even a very big request either, very reasonable she thought.

Ok. Flames. How was she going to to be doing this? Think about heat? Fire? Boom? Pow?

Taylor frowned. It was sort of difficult to get something done when you didn't know what it was that made up the beginning in the first place.

Well, we can say that instinctive use of your powers is off the table. Disappointing but not all of my children can be like me.

Taylor crossed her arms. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't some kind of space wizard.

Maybe if I do this… hmmmm. Yes. It might work. Why not. Here. Eat this.

A taste of… purple filled Taylor's mouth. She resisted the urge to spit it out, as strange as it was. It had texture that belied the fact that it was insubstantial, that it somehow could be chewed despite being something that had no bite. Rolling it around in her mouth, it had a feeling to it that went beyond simple food, it reverberated in her bones, tingling the flesh, gently working its way down to her extremities.

Swallowing it, Taylor understood. It was like having an entirely new world opened to her, begging for her to pull open the doors and to take her place as the rightful head of it.

It was empowering, amazing, scary. Taylor pulled back. The overwhelming urge to use her ability was terrifying, it had taken control of her and she had wanted to just go all out without a care in the world.

Breathing in deep she asked, what was that?

A guess. You who have been born in an inert Warp are unable to use your powers without some kind of stimulation. I have provided the stimulations and what was once dormant is now awake. You do have instinctive use of your abilities, merely in such a form that required activation. Now. Try fire again.

Taylor raised her hand and she knew just how to create fire from nothing. Hand out, eyes focused, and a tiny spark of "need", and it flourished. The conflagration that she had summoned blasted out of her hand, slamming into the wall which valiantly tried to resist before it melted away before her. The entire wall, not some tiny insignificant part of it. All of it melted.

"Whoops."

Try that again. Smaller. Controlled.

Taylor once again lifted her hand and tried to control the flame better this time. Only it created a lance of heat so intense that it burnt with a clear light, no sign that it even existed except for the flickers of blue and orange around the exterior. Instead of melting away the wall, it instead melted a clear hole straight through in a fraction of a second.

Smaller? You do understand what small is do you not? It is the size of your power compared to mine. Smaller. Less so.

I can't, it just won't listen to me.

How interesting. You are unable to control it on a basic level. Disappointing. But you are an infant. This is normal. All my children disappointed me once. Once.

Except Sanguinius because he's daddy's little boy.

Try creating a tunnel through the Warp for you to walk through.

Taylor concentrated and centered herself again. This time on creating a portal in which to traverse from one side of the room to the next. It would require her tunnelling through the Warp which was much easier in this universe apparently, it wasn't all messed up like the Emperor's universes' Warp was.

With a slight push and a little "need", the portal opened, this one being just the right size that she envisioned. Strange.

Why is this so much easier to control than the flame? She wondered.

Something to consider. Now then. Let us try scrying. Let's look on your Maxine, she is a Sororitas, no doubt she is praying somewhere.

Taylor nodded, Maxine was always a good person, she did whatever was needed and puttered around the base. The idea of praying was strange for someone who was agnostic as herself, but she had never seen what Maxine did in her spare time, maybe she really did like praying? When your entire universe wanted you dead, it made sense to pray.

This time she put both hands up, palms facing towards the ceiling, settling at waist level. Eyes closed, Taylor envisioned a door, a "need" and a slight pulling.

Opening her eyes, Taylor looked at the pool of silvery light above her palms. A little focus on Maxine and it cleared away to reveal a bird's eye view of Maxine… and Sergeant Black… and no. Nope. She did not need to see this. Nope.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Humans doing human things. Oh, how I miss that feeling. But I cannot for I am made of bone and am locked to a golden throne. Yes. That is the reason.

The Emperor's laughter reverberated in her skull. Oh, the images, the mental scarring. She was too young for this. Why? Why God why?

Ok, that was funny. Space Nuns don't take vows of chastity. Good to know. Ok, let's try healing. Call in one of those flashlight soldiers of yours.

Taylor nodded. It looked like today was going to be a very long one the way things were going. There were no doubt many different powers out there and she was clearly going to have to go through all of them. Joy.

Taylor yawned, the testing had gone on for 3 days and now that it was over, she was faced with results that were rather confusing.

Apparently, her ability regarding the destructive areas of her powers was something that was extremely dangerous. Not in the destructive potential of the powers, but her inability to finely control them. Each time she called upon those powers, they came with the maximum amount of destructive power possible, completely destroying whatever was in front of her.

She would need to use them only when there were no friendlies in the area, to do otherwise would be risking a lot of friendly deaths.

As for the abilities that "benefited" others, those were the ones that she had the most control over. Able to control the power in which they expressed themselves, able to control the most minute of interactions, of controlling the amount of strength in which they occurred. In healing, she was able to ensure that each and every cell, muscle fibre, vein, and bone was connected with perfect precision, even able to recall a time when they were perfect and re-enacting it.

To heal mental trauma, to repair damage, anything that was for the betterment of those around her, these were the powers that she had the highest level of affinity with. Everything else was rather average, her Warp-Walk abilities were average at best, her ability to send things into the Warp, her ability to fly, all of it average and required a great deal more effort than things like healing did.

As for her other abilities, her body was still developing, having not been able to fully absorb the power that her psykic abilities were pumping into it as of yet, but it was getting there. Currently, she was about as powerful as a 1000 year old Sojourner, whatever that was meant to mean. She would need to ask Maxine apparently. Her body in terms of resistance was also quite significant, able to resist physical trauma, muscle degradation, and things like lactic acid buildup. A body that was fully capable of withstanding whatever it was she needed it to and coming out the other side fully intact.

In short, everything about her was still technically in development still, but a general idea of where she would end up was had by the Emperor. While her physical abilities would only be on the level of Magnus (only), her psykic potential was up there with the Emperor himself. It was just too bad that her abilities were focused towards areas like healing.

As for her mind, her emotional blockers were self-inflicted the Emperor found. She couldn't handle the flood of emotions that her powers entailed, the empathy coming standard, and so it had shut down a majority of her emotions so that she could function normally. Learning to handle it all would be yet another lesson she would need to go through every day.

As for her intellect, she was now at the general Primarch level. Remembering everything she saw, learning everything taught, her body and her mind the perfect receptacle for knowledge and experience. Given enough time, she should be able to become the most intelligent and physically capable human on the planet.

Given time, of course, time that the Endbringers were not willing to give. They needed to go but not yet, she didn't have the ability as of yet or so the Emperor had told her.

But soon. It would be soon.

115

George12

Nov 19, 2016

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George12

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Nov 19, 2016

#76

Deleted previous. Did not have the proper colours and formatting.

"Wait wait. You did fucking what?" Malcador shouted, his Emperor had just fucking… Done… oh... the amount of adjectives in the galaxy couldn't describe what he had done. They stared down at the little pool which had allowed the four of them to see what the Emperor was doing with the Taylor girl.

"I changed her powers, like, made them like the total opposites of what they should have been." The Emperor of Mankind, Bob said. As if it were the most innocent thing in the world.

"Hold up. What. You just fucking changed her powers? Without asking her? Why? Why would you fuck with her like that?" Malcador asked, his hand pressed to his forehead. "Did you forget about the warning just now?"

"I could take her… probably. Anyway, it would be pretty fucking hilarious man. Think about. She was all about the explosions and shit before right? Totally switched her focus, now she's all about the nature, and happiness, Kum By Fucking Ya! So when she goes back to Throne Emperor, he's gonna get a daughter that's a total fucking hippy!" The amount of glee in Bob's voice had Malcador facepalming himself.

"And what about when she needs to kill those Endbringers?" Malcador asked, bringing up a point that he felt that Bob needed to consider a little more closely.

"Eh, she's still got the power, will totally be fine man. And… uh… if it isn't, I'll like add a little boost you know." Bob said, scratching the back of his head.

"How did you change her focus, to begin with? It's ingrained in our souls."

"Well not really, like, I made her right? Like put a bit of my soul into hers, gave her the powers and shit, so she's like… not born with them right? And she's still absorbing them so it's easy to fix it up while she's like not all there yet. Like changing wet ferrocrete you know? Hard when it's dry and easy when it's wet. Oh, fuck. Ew. I did not just fucking imagine my daughter as wet and dry. Fuck. Fuck you Malcador."

"Yes, yes. Fuck me. So you did all of this so Throne Emperor would get a hippy for a daughter? Why?"

"Dude, don't you remember the hippies? Like every time there was peace and shit, they'd be out and all "let's go hug trees and do drugs and shit" fuck hippies man."

"You're just angry that they didn't let you build your golden mansion in that one rainforest."

"Fuck off. I'm not that petty."

"Riiiight. That's why you went and made their arses explode with shit every time they were on live television."

"Wasn't me dude. Maybe they should've eaten their fibre the fuckers."

"So… this new focus… what is this going to do to her exactly?"

"Well…"

Fucking plants. What the fuck is this supposed to be? What the actual fuck?

No seriously, what the fuck? Ever since Father-Emperor did that weird fucking thing and unlocked my powers, I've been… like… I don't even fucking know. I didn't even know anything was happening until Colonel Knight told me. It was only half an hour ago!

"Ummm Princess, I know that you are excited about having your powers unlocked, but why don't you tone it down a little bit? It's making it harder for us to walk behind you." She says. I don't know what was going on, I thought she was just joking about my new dress, but noooo. I have a fucking trail of grass and moss and flowers and shit growing out of the ground behind me. Like what the actual fuck?

Also a dress. I have those now. Which is nice.

I can't control it at all, it just grows, every footprint has more stuff growing out of it than the bits in between, but that's still a lot of fucking green stuff. Dad even made a dad joke. I shall never forgive him. "I've heard of green fingers but never green feet." Bah.

Then it changes apparently because of course if fucking does. All depends on my mood or something fucking ridiculous. If I'm feeling annoyed, there's these little fucking rock rectangles that come out they even have their own plant hats, if I'm angry then I get like literal fire. If I feel good about something then I get golden stars, like rub hand on smooth wall and then I start fucking shining.

Ugh.

I have to walk around in the fucking room next to mine. No furniture, no nothing. Because the fire sets all my shit on fire, it doesn't burn anything but it looks scary as shit. Fuck. This is just. What the fuck? Why me? Did I ask to have some kind of fucking emotional indicator coming out of the ground behind me? Did I ever imply that this was how I wanted my powers to work?

What was wrong with just like fireballs and shit, it's like some kind of sick joke by the universe I'm sure, because of course, it is. Or maybe it was Father-Emperor, but why would he do it? What would even be the point of it?

Uuuuugh.

"Taylor? Do you mind if I come in?" Ah great. It's dad. Just the person I wanted to see me being a freak, THANK YOU UNIVERSE.

"Hey, dad. Ummm. It's sort of on fire in here."

"It's ok kiddo. I heard it doesn't hurt or anything." He even sounds so sorry for me. What the hell? Pity Taylor day?

"Umm."

"Don't worry kiddo, I'm here for you." He walks in. Just fucking. I just.

He hugs me. I start crying. I don't know why I'm crying but here I am. Crying. Because this is how my life should be, out of my fucking control. Fuck the universe, fuck it in the ass.

"Hey, kiddo. It's going to be ok, I'll be here for you alright?" He's trying to be supportive or whatever they call it. It's kind of funny but I'll take it. He's not doing that good at it, but dammit, I'll take it. The hug's the important bit. Just. Just. I'll just enjoy it. Just yeah. I'll just stay here for a bit.

"Well, at least you're not angry anymore." He says. I try not to sigh, emotional quotient of a brick, that was dad. Can't let me just stay here for a bit longer? Too much to ask?

Still not angry? What was going. Oh. Really? Really universe? Is this how things are going to be? Fuck you.

There's little clouds behind me. And there's rain. Because of course, that's how me being sad would look like. At least the water's not spilling everywhere, localised rain, because why not. It's watering the plants at least.

Which brings up another point, if I stay still in one place, the effect will just spread out, I don't know how far it goes, but I really don't want to test it.

Testing. Hmmm. I can test my powers maybe?

"Ummm, Dad. Quick question." I say, a little apprehensive here. It's not every day a daughter asks her dad the big questions.

"Sure Taylor what is it."

"If I could like… cure your baldness, would you accept?"

I can't see what he looks like, but I'm pretty sure that the way he's stiffened up that I've hit a sore point. It's not like it's his fault, it's genetic… I think.

"What brings this up Taylor?"

"Well… you see. I have these powers which are like... able to heal and stuff you know? So… like… I could regrow your hair?" I kind of blurt it out, but who cares. I can cure male pattern baldness, worship me!

"Um. Sure Taylor. If you think you can do it."

"Ok. Just. Give me a second here." I close my eyes, and try to see what his hair should look like. Just give me a moment. Just a little more. And a little seed, a little germination. It's like trying to grow a garden really, just a little more difficult and intense. Just a little more. And there we go. Perfect.

Now then. A little bit of "need" and oh wow. That was not meant to happen. Umm. What should I do now. That is. Ok. Wow. Ummmm. Woops?

"Taylor? What did you just do?" His voice is a little muffled… which makes sort of sense?

I pull out of the hug to get a better look at him and try my hardest to stop giggling.

I fixed his baldness, but its like… to his feet. It's like dad is pretending to be a girl or something, wearing a wig. I just. I couldn't control it and started rolling on the floor.

It didn't feel as bad as I thought, sort of felt pretty comfortable actually. The plants made a nice floor cushion, one use for this weirdass power at least. Not the best one, but the best I've got.

So what now.

I get up think about cutting that hair for him and wait. No. Bad Taylor. I remember what happened when I tried using the flaming sword thing that Dad-Emperor had told me to try. No little sword, always with the super big ones. Bad idea. Would have killed dad. Real dad, very fragile mortal dad.

Ok bad idea. Taylor, never do that again.

Gotta think a little Taylor, can't just use your powers everywhere. Not gonna work, what if you kill someone you meant to save? Bad idea. Ok.

So damned tired. All this… power shit. Just. I just want to lie down for a bit.

"Hey dad, anything you wanted or did you just come to give me a hug? I really needed it, don't get me wrong." I say, totally not fucking awkward at all Taylor.

"Yea kiddo, been meaning to ask you how this whole thing is going along you know? How you're holding up." He sounds a little awkward, runs in the family I guess. He's using his hands to part the hair, looks like someone peeking out of some curtains.

"Yea dad, the same as the last 20 times you asked me."

"It's a little different this time around kiddo, you've got proper powers now. They change the way your mind works apparently kiddo and… and its a little worrying." He really does sound worried.

I give him a hug.

"It's ok dad, the trick is to know that your mind is being changed and working around it. I just need to remember that I'm Taylor every now and again you know? You being here helps. Just… just keep being dad." I say, and it's true I guess. Sort of became true as I was saying it, having dad around just helps me remember who I'm supposed to be. Can't just turn into Taylor the Primarch, that wouldn't be Taylor Hebert and I want to be both.

"That's good to hear kiddo. Really me worried there for a second. I want to be there for you kiddo, when I heard what happened with the locker… I…"

I squeeze him harder, not too hard, I could break him in half and kill him by accident. I don't want that to happen, no. That would be very bad. He's my dad. And like… body parts and blood and stuff everywhere. Eww.

"It's okay dad. It was my fault for hiding it from you. I didn't want to worry you, you know? After mom was gone and all." I try not to cry again.

"Kiddo, it's my fault too. Dammit, we're two peas in a pod aren't we."

I let out a wet chuckle with that.

"It's not so bad dad, I have you around this time."

"For as long as this body holds out on me Taylor. I'll be there for you."

I smile a little bit, even with everything going to hell, at least I had my dad back.

"Oh right. What about the docks dad? What's going on over there?" I ask, need to show I care about dad's stuff too.

"It's been going a little… strange kiddo. The whole Krieger thing's scared a few of the guys, but once they showed they were just going to card us when we went in, nothing's really changed. They look a little scary but when they beat off a few E88 and ABB gangs that tried to attack us for being on the docks… well, the guys started appreciating them a bit more."

"Well that's good, I was worried about them being a little too much you know."

"They are really intense aren't they?"

"Just a little." I say, holding my fingers up to do the calliper motion.

We both chuckle at that.

112

George12

Nov 19, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 13

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 20, 2016

#94

"So. Director Piggot. What are your contingency plans so far?" Asked Director Costa-Brown. The two of them were talking via webcam, terrible quality but it had to be done, some tinker-tech, some more landlines and a few more little toys were needed to make sure that their communications were secure.

The "Engiseers" as they were called were extremely dangerous when it came to their ability to tap into the internet and through that information, databases that they by all rights should not have access to was a concern not just for the PRT but the world in general. There were Thinkers and the like that could have done so for years now, but the problem came from the fact that these Engiseers could write semi-sentient-autonomous code to hunt information for them. Hiding away in data drives, waiting to be plugged into offline hard sites, taking what they wanted before being returned to the network but a clueless menial or director. Every single USB was now a possible carrier, every single piece of technology an infiltration point.

It was a terrible thing, a terrifying thing. That their lines of communications could be breached, that their data storage methods were compromised, everything being suspect. It was not an over-reaction either, the fact that in their civil war, they had written code that brainwashed and completely changed the personality of others like them indicating how much of a threat that they were.

There were a confirmed 4 of them, all seen during Armsmaster's reconnaissance of the Docks and of their drones that had been maintaining a constant presence in the city. None had been shot down, likely as part of efforts by the Princess' Guard to minimize their threat levels until they were going to conquer the city. It was not standard doctrine Piggot had been led to understand, the Imperium as they were called, did not negotiate.

The assumption that they were indeed from the 40k universe had pervaded those in control of policy as well as those who were in charge of the country itself. The worry was certainly there, a hostile force that was planning on invading the country and securing it for their own control.

So many things that needed to be worried over, that needed to be acted upon. The more hardline military chiefs were already calling for immediate tactical nuclear strikes to eliminate the threat before it became too large to control. Some in the PRT and the Protectorate were calling for the Hero equivalent of the same and there had even been a few Directors offering to loan out their troops and heroes to assist.

It would make her feel warm and fuzzy inside if not for the fact that she knew it was due to their fears of her being just the first stepping scene in the way of future conquests. A kill-order had been discussed but in light of the revelations of one Captain MacTavish under the command of the Princess, it had been held back temporarily. If this new universe was as tolerant as they were saying it was, was there now hope that they could negotiate? It was a small hope, but it was still one that more than a few directors had latched onto.

Regardless the National Guard had been mobilised, ten thousand men, their armour, their support ready to move at a moment's notice. There had not been any overt actions as of yet, startling the new arrivals and having them strike out blindly could cause irreparable damage, they were from a universe after all where city block levelling weapons were standard issue. Concern for the civilians and concern regarding the fidelity of what they were about to be exposed to was holding back the deployment of conventional forces. The Army, the Navy, and the Air Force were on permanent standby, nuclear weapons ready. It was too uncertain for them to be sending forces into the city, if it was interpreted as an act of war, then things would not end well for any of them. After they had appeared, the Guard had stayed where they were, not making overt moves after the first strike at the docks. Enough for those that called for caution to have a leg to stand upon.

Laser weapons that could strike instantly with the force of a .50 cal bullet? Artillery that used explosives that could destroy multiple tanks? Having a Primarch around that could possibly summon the entire army from or into the Warp? Far too many things that were uncertain for the military to deploy its forces. Far too many variables, far too much risk. Further, the intentions of the Princess' Guard had not been fully explained, beyond a quote by a single man. Until the intentions of the Guard was explained, they would be forced to wait, the potential pitfalls outweighed the benefits of an immediate deployment.

They were not stupid, nor were they blind. The Endbringers were weapons that were poised directly at the hearts of the world. They had seen the reports, that the world was very likely going to be facing complete annihilation in 20 years, that the human race was going to be destroyed, reduced to living like they were in a post-apocalyptic world… if they were lucky.

The interview had revealed to them that things were not as simple as they had once thought. The idea that this "Princess" was here to conquer the world had taken a turn when MacTavish had revealed she had orders to kill the Endbringers. That she was to bring order to the world, whatever that meant. In turn, that meant she was likely on the level of the other Primarchs if the stories of them were correct and if killing Endbringers was a coming of age test, well, even the hardliners were willing to sit and wait.

If she came through, then it was a complete change in the playing field, she would be the saviour of the world at this rate. Assuming she could keep her promises. That combined with the idea of the Imperium being much more tolerant than it was in the written storyline changed opinions further. The Imperium was vast, it had power and resources beyond imagining. Attempting to fight against it would be the height of foolishness.

But if they were able to negotiate with the Princess to bring the world, or at least America and Canada under her wing and keep their positions… well, the politicians were salivating at the thought of it, as well the military and civilian leadership. So much potential not just for the world… but their own positions.

The idea that she was not here to conquer but to absorb had changed many an opinion. Whereas before they had been left, wondering, unsure, frightened of this new player on the field. Rightly so even, the enemy was one that according to the universe they had inhabited would prefer to see a world shattered rather than accept resistance, and the most intractable of their armies had been present, the Death Korps of Krieg that had shelled a city of billions for 2 decades until all life had been lost. They were in the city, they were looking to be as intolerant as the stories judging by the massacre of the Merchants at the Docks.

But now? Now there was something else. The livestream had shot around the world as if borne by wings of hope. The views were in the billions, billions of people (or a few million that watched and rewatched the stream), had seen it and they had exploded with hope. The fact that there had been a 40k theme of some kind had PHO going into a frenzy, a small bit of stimulation to brighten their day. With the amount of reading and exploration of the 40k universe, was it any wonder that an interview by soldiers from that very same universe would spark so much interest?

Especially one titled "Interview with Imperial Guard, Live from Brockton Bay, Faultline's Club". It was a move that had seen people diving for their headphones, all the better to catch each and every word in full detail. The resulting revelations had changed everything, particularly the first few minutes.

Piggot felt it herself, it was hope. They offered hope.

It was so simple, "Kill the Endbringers, Bring order to the world, Rejoin the Emperor." The simply line had changed everything and the internet had exploded from that point forward. Entire message boards dedicated to the idea of anything being able to kill the Endbringers. Scion had proven his ability to drive them off, but to not kill one, yet here was a being who was supposed to be so powerful that crushing worlds was in their power, being ordered to kill the Endbringers.

It brought hope.

Hope tinged with apprehension to be sure, the idea that there was a being so powerful as to kill the Endbringers essentially conquering the world. A being that represented a governmental system that was very willing to kill billions of its own in pursuit of what felt like very foolish decisions and policies. Something that no doubt the entire world was guilty of committing the very crimes that would see them branded as heretic for searching up the idea of "Chaos" on the internet.

Yet as the explanation continued, that things had diverged fundamentally at the initial start period of the Imperium, that things were not the same, that everything had changed, that small blossom of hope began to swell.

When they spoke of religious tolerance, of freedom of expression, it had become a shrub. When the words "flying spaghetti monster" had left his mouth, it bloomed into a full tree.

Even if he was overselling it, this was an Imperium that the people of the world could see themselves belonging to. The apprehension was still there, however, how did one explain away an entire galaxy's worth of policies and decisions? The fact that the both of them had over 600 years of experience killing in the name of the Imperium told the tale that it was not a peaceful Empire but one that was still engaging in war, one that was still fighting against enemies that may even be just as terrifying as those inside the written works.

The fact that they were coming back next week to explain further had settled many fears and Piggot had checked the message boards. The PHO in particular, had over 1000 pages on the livestream, what must have been tens of thousands of people coming in to ask questions, to have their fears soothed away, to be told that it was going to be ok.

What happened next week was going to be interesting if they kept their word. That was for sure at the very least. Striking now would do nothing but turn the public against them, unwise. The politicians were waiting, ready to jump horse as needed to be on the side of public opinion, jockeying was still a concern even as the world spiralled to a slow death. It kept their options limited as of now, keeping everyone happy was just as big a concern as dealing with the threat on their shores.

As for Piggot, she was being torn in half between 2 factions. One that wanted to allow this "Princess" to stay as she was until it was time to strike at the Endbringers, to see if she was truly as capable as they said she was. The other wanted to strike at her quickly, not to destroy her but to at the very least cripple her armies so that she could not fulfil the second part of the order that her father gave her.

Piggot on her part was just worried about what this meant for the gangs. They were going to take that order as a declaration of war, which it rightfully was. The first place she would bring order to was naturally her home-base of Brockton bay, a place that was home to 3, no 2 gangs. Piggot predicted a full-scale gang war to break out within the next few weeks. What happened during it would inform her decision as to what to do with this Princess.

If there was a way to take out the 2 gangs and allow the Princess to solidify her control over the city, then maybe it was the best choice. It all depended on what it was that the Princess planned to do once she had control over the city, the idea that she could fail never entering Piggot's mind. The gangs were just that, gangs. Against a proper army that had spent centuries honing their craft against monsters many times more terrifying than man? They were going to be wiped out.

The manner in which they were wiped out was the question. Would Piggot need to mobilise her forces and push them back because of the damage that was being done? Or would she be able to sit back and watch? The fact that the Phantine Skyborne were in the picture told her that it was very possibly them that had killed Shadow Stalker. Which again was an issue that needed to be considered.

If they had indeed killed Shadow Stalker, the question of why had to be asked. What had she done that deserved cold blooded murder? The fact that she had done something was firm in Piggot's mind, the Ward was very much mentally damaged and likely tried to attack them or something similar, maybe even killed one of their number.

Regardless, if they took the city in such a way that minimised or even prevented civilian casualties altogether, she would have to consider the idea that they were very much telling the truth in their desire to bring Order to the planet.

If they did not and acted like a bull in a china shop? She would be giving her weight and leaning in on the kill order.

Director Costa-Brown was on the line to check on what she would be doing after the gang war. It would happen, the aftermath was what was in question.

Piggot didn't know herself, her pieces were on the board, but how to arrange them?

"I don't…" She began only to be cut off.

"Director? A call for you… from a Nunciate Advance Maxine of the Princess' Guard."

Well now… wasn't this interesting?

George12

OAMU

Nov 20, 2016

#95

"Good morning Director Piggot I am Nunciate Advance Maxine of the Princess' Guard, how are you?" She said, a woman that was dressed as the online articles had shown what she would look like. It was a little… jealousy inducing actually, the woman was extremely attractive. Dark hair, high cheekbones, a wide smile, like an aristocrat. Not to mention her body which would no doubt fill many a wet dream should the PHO get a picture of her… an idea perhaps?

No. That was low.

But maybe?

Piggot tapped a button her her computer, a screencap aaaand saved. She hid her grin.

"Good morning Maxine, can I call you Maxine?" Piggot asked, having only a first name to address someone by was certainly rude.

"Please, I am of the Adeptus Sororitas, I have no other name for I am a servant of the Emperor. If you wish to be formal, please call me Nunciate Advance, it is a mouthful is it not? Just Maxine is fine." The woman said, grinning in such a manner that set Piggot at ease.

Dangerous. This woman was dangerous. They had been expecting something similar, there being some kind of diplomatic channels opened for both sides to communicate, the Astra Militarum had displayed remarkable restraint after all.

"I have Chief Director Costa-Brown also connected would be fine if we were to set this call up… as… in a 3 way?" Piggot said, stumbling in part as she was not sure that Maxine would even understand what a conference call was, the information they had on the 40k universe had frustratingly little information when it came to such things as corporations.

Sure there was a Grox Chain that sold food stuffs, and large merchant charters, but the focus was largely on the military, something that left them with glaring holes in their information regarding the universe, something that would need to be rectified. So many gaps in their knowledge that were going to be problematic if they were staying in her city.

"Please, allow me. Dear Hurosius here will ensure that there is nobody listening in upon us." Maxine said, smiling in the way that Piggot had seen in the mirror on occasion. A smile that said that she was going to make sure that any who did listen in on the conversation would not find themselves having a good time.

Predatory. The word was predatory, the woman was not as soft and noble as she looked. An interesting contrast. Piggot found herself echoing the smile, being sooo… devious… was infectious. Even if the woman represented what was very likely an Empire that treated its own as nothing but fodder for the machines of war, she had a way about her that was just… disarming.

If Piggot didn't know better, she would have thought the woman was a Cape of some kind, or Psyker as they called them. Only Psykers were forbidden from joining the Sororitas so it was just pure human magnetism that the woman radiated.

Terrifying.

Expected.

She was after all the diplomatic arm of the Sororitas, tasked with the education of the Imperium's nobles which judging by the cutthroat nature of the works they had access to, was a job that was not for the faint of heart, or the compassionate.

In the background of her link to Costa-Brown, Piggot could hear the same notification that there was a call inbound. The woman worked fast, or at least whoever this Hurosius was worked fast.

"Ah good morning Chief Director Costa-Brown, it is good to see you. I had been meaning to contact you after this, but with the three of us together, it will certainly expedite matters." She said, smiling at Piggot. In the corner of her screen, Piggot could see Costa-Brown's face. Something that she was not aware that she had set up… their Engiseers were certainly much more than the construction experts of the Imperium, something to take note of.

And to enforce Master/Stranger Protocols at all times in regards to anything with the slightest technological link. They could not afford this much access, it was dangerous. The fact that their security leaked like a sieve was something that could be used against them.

Piggot wrote a note down.

On paper.

Away from the cameras.

She mentally shook her head, it was ridiculous, she was becoming just as afraid of technology as she was of an actual Master.

"Yes, it is good to hear from you as well Maxine, if I can call you that," Costa-Brown said, her voice warm… too warm. Piggot almost shivered, this was a Costa-Brown that was on full charm offensive, something Piggot on some level felt instinctively afraid of.

"Please, it would make matters much easier when we are not throwing around titles," Maxine said, tilting her head in such an adorable manner that one might forget she represented a very dangerous and new faction that was only partially genocidal if the interview yesterday was correct.

"Then please, call me Rebecca."

"Emily," Piggot said, peer pressure was such a powerful thing was it not?

"Now, with our little formalities out of the way, shall we get down to "brass tacks" as you say it here?" Maxine said, leaning forward a little, her hands were set with elbows on the table, hands clasped just below her chin. Squeezing her cleavage in such a way that if a momentary grimace on Costa-Brown's face was any indication had her feeling generous, was jealousy. The two of them could not give any significant glances at each other, the dangers of a conference call, but there was a moment of shared female camaraderie against the enemy that was fleshy meatbags.

"Please, you have something to discuss?"

"Yes, you see. The Princess is… a pacifist. She had displayed her intent to do things without force if possible, which means that for us who serve as her Guard, that we hear and obey. While we are not willing to fully obey her every edict if it means that we compromise her safety, we are willing to indulge her… to an extent.

"As a result, we are willing to extend a hand of cooperation to both you as part of the Protectorate, and to the officials that make up your government. It is in our interests to gain your cooperation for the Princess' goals to be realised." Maxine said, her face serious.

"This cooperation… what would it entail? If we are to be restricted in some way, then what are the limits of our cooperation?" Costa-Brown asked, her warmth leeching away as the Chief Director once again took control.

"The Princess as Captain Price so helpfully explained yesterday [a momentary grimace at that, was he not supposed to have said it? Interesting], has been tasked with the destruction of the beings known as the Endbringers and bringing this world into the fold of the Imperium. To do so however in such a manner that does not involve the typical casualties that an Astra Militarum campaign entails, we will seek to work alongside your government, before incorporating it into the Imperium as a whole."

Costa-Brown's face no doubt mirrored Piggot's own. Their postulations were coming true in a manner that had not been expected. Offers of cooperation and peace? A peaceful transition from one government to the next that did not involve copious levels of casualties and death? Well, it was safe to say that she had their attention.

Giving up authority and submitting themselves to an unknown force was something that was extremely nerve wracking, and Piggot herself was loathe to consider it. What was she supposed to do? There was a new force that would undoubtedly as time passed grow powerful enough to kick her from power, on the other hand, if she accepted their offer, she would be able to keep it… on their sufferance. A deal with the devil.

"There are many things in which you are no doubt very worried about, our governmental systems are fundamentally different after all. We have much to discuss and there have been far too many attempts at… breaching our communications that it would be unwise to continue further. Hurosius is more than capable of shutting them out, but it is no doubt very suspicious if we continue any longer. Instead, I offer a small tour of the Princess Base for you to better understand what it is we are offering and to mediate our differences. The wellbeing of the people of this planet is in the interests of both you and the Princess."

Piggot noticed that she had not said that it was in the best interests of "us", instead only of the Princess. If the lore of the universe was correct, they would be fanatically focused on keeping the "Princess" as they called her safe, even if that meant killing everyone else on the planet to do so. If the way she worded her answers were correct, then it was very likely that Maxine subscribed to that same school of thought.

A headache and a potential danger.

They would need to meet them at least half-way if they wanted to keep their positions, that being of alive. This Maxine looked prepared to simply drop the olive branch if it proved too troublesome for her Princess, a juggling act if they chose to accept. For the betterment of the people, and also satisfying the Princess.

Piggot felt a headache coming on. Why hadn't they just gone and wiped out all the gangs first? It would have made things so much easier for them if they had.

Piggot was about to answer when Chief Director Costa-Brown did so in her stead.

"We would be happy to. Where should we be and what time?"

"This time on "Sunday" as you call it. Please be at the location and on time. Please do not worry about transportation, we will take care of that. Please leave your data-slates and other tools behind. They will not survive the journey. I look forward to seeing you soon. I must take my leave now, many more people to meet, many more offers to make. The information will be transmitted to your terminals for access immediately." Maxine said, smiling at them.

As the screen cut out, returning to its off state, Piggot looked over the little blurry screen that had Costa-Brown's portrait on it.

"Are we really going to be heading into the middle of their base Chief Director? Armsmaster's reports state that it is the size of a small city. If this is a trap…"

"Yes, that is a concern but there is little we can do without at least taking a step forward. The Princess is a concern Director Piggot, but what is more, she is hope. What do you think would happen if it got out that we refused to cooperate with them, at least marginally?" Costa-Brown asked, her voice pensive.

"I… it would be a disaster," Piggot muttered, the implications hitting home.

"Yes, a being that represents the best hope that we have for destroying the Endbringers, and what is more, an offer to join a wider collective of humanity that has conquered the stars? She is a wellspring of hope and if we were to reject that… I am not sure that the people would be on our side. The average person is not aware of our predictions regarding the human race, but they can at least feel it on the street. There is gloom, fear, apathy, yet with a single line, the Princess has revitalised our world, if only partially. Should she keep her promise, then I foresee a groundswell of support that we will either ride on, or drown under.

"The times are changing… again. It would be in the best interests of us, and those we represent if we change with them." Costa-Brown finished, her voice heavy. No doubt the idea that her power was only so much before this Imperium was weighing on her mind. She didn't want this. None of them wanted this.

People did not like change, but they were very much able to accept and adapt to it. Piggot could feel it in her bones, her aching bones. There was going to be change, and she was going to be at the forefront of it, or she would be left behind, Piggot was not going to throw away all those years she had spent clawing her way up to where she was.

At least they weren't Capes, these were just normal men and women who had been forged in the furnaces of war. They were not some kind of weaponized bullshit, disregarding the common man beneath them. It was not real consolation, but it was a plus in a very bleak situation at the very least.

112

George12

Nov 20, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 15

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 20, 2016

#96

Emily Piggot was standing inside of Washington Square, or rather she was standing in the middle of the square, not inside of it. Joining her, or rather she was joining, what looked to be several members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, other Directors of the Protectorate, a few PRT leaders including Legend from the looks of it, a few civilian officials and high ranking military officers from both Canada and the US.

There were a few soldiers and plainclothes men with black suits that were likely bodyguards, whether or not they would be allowed to come with them was another question entirely. Maxine had not specified it in her invitation to Piggot and Costa-Brown, but who knew what she had said to the others. Or rather, she knew, they had complained bitterly about the rule that only those that were invited were allowed to join them. Something about it being rude, arrogant and throwing her weight around.

Piggot had thought it was rather intelligent actually, keep the group size down, make sure none of them could go and sneak in a few infiltrators to try and map out the base or something similar. It would not be a smart idea in Piggot's opinion, just because they looked like they were more tolerant, they were still the Imperium and if the Skyborne were any indication, they were still very willing to go to war.

Still, she had joined them or at least partially. She was sitting down at a bench, it was not quite the easiest thing for her to remain standing for prolonged periods of time. No doubt there would be much walking involved and she was going to need to conserve her strength.

Piggot leaned back, it was approaching the 11am mark that Maxine had said to meet her here. It had been a little worrying and Piggot had enjoyed the panic that the Princess' Guards had produced in the leadership, how all of them ran around with their hands to their heads, screaming about possible infiltration and wide ranging invasion forces. The fear that there was a base underneath Washington driving them crazy as Tinkers were assigned to check if there was a base underneath them.

Hundreds of hours of work all amounting to "there's nothing."

It had been amusing for Piggot, watching them lose their minds like that. Rather removed from herself given that she was in Brockton, some kind of joy at the suffering of others perhaps? She was not exactly the nicest of people and she was ok with that. Being her age, living her life, it made a person hard, tough, tired. You found your pleasures where you could or you wouldn't find them at all.

Still the waiting, it was getting to be a little tedious, her earpiece that was meant to alert her to any possible threats either on the ground or in the air had been silent, the traffic controllers busy scanning every possible avenue. The Secret Service for the President were involved as well, Washington was their stomping ground and if they were bringing a foreign army in… well, they wanted to have their eyes and ears on them at all times.

It was in the interests of making sure that there wouldn't be a threat that there were anti-tank missiles, snipers, and machine gun teams set up on the roofs of the buildings surrounding the square. Above them were helicopters carrying men and women all armed to the teeth if they were needed for an intervention, the area around had normal people carrying on with their day to day "activities". Dozens of agents, hundreds of soldiers ready to march on the square at a moment's notice.

In short, it was one of the most dangerous kill zones on the planet, any wrong moves and the offenders would be shredded to small pieces by the sheer amount of explosives and bullets that tore through them.

It was into this that Maxine would be meeting them. How she was planning to do it was something that going to be interesting. Maybe dropping from orbit? There weren't any new aircraft that had been launched, nor were there any armoured vehicles on the roads.

As Piggot sat on the bench, the minute hand ticked over and 11am was struck.

Bang.

Those who had mechanical watches felt the gears as if they were bombs on their hands, a shudder, more mental than physical. Each of them tensed and ready.

Nothing. There was no explosions, no alpha strike. Nothing. Ok, safe.

Piggot let out a small sigh of relief, this wasn't an assassination attempt it… wait.

There was a… buzz in the air. As if everything was being layered in static electricity, her clothes were crackling the air began to… smell. Of purple? What was going on?

The tension ratcheted even higher as each of those present tensed up. Something was happening, it was not something that they were very happy about. The air was changing and none of them had any clue as to what was going on and it was terrifying. They were worried, Piggot was worried.

As small electrical worms emerged from the ground and arced through the air before dropping back to the ground, the smell of purple increased as did the feeling of purple. In the air were wisps of clouds, small tendrils of purple smoke that rose and twisted in a large circumference around they who were in the part.

Piggot's earpiece was alive with words, shouting, anger, panic, calls for statistics, of reports, of anything that could tell them what the fuck was going on. Only it did not work. Nothing was working. They couldn't get proper readings of what was going on and it was terrifying to them. They who were meant to be in charge were very much not in charge.

And it stopped. The static was gone, the smoke, the smell, all of it gone.

CRACK

The sound thundered through the square, both a physical sound as well as one that was felt on some kind of metaphysical level. If Piggot was a superstitious woman, she would have said it was something on the level of her soul. Something that resonated through her at some fundamental level. Even had she been deaf, she would have felt it she was sure.

Following the sound, came what looked like a tear in the air in front of the delegation. One that was large enough to drive a car through, a large semi-circle that had a deep and resonate purple tinge to it, one that throbbed with some kind of energy that was clearly not technological in origin. Was this the Warp?

From it emerged figures. Maxine in the clothes she had worn at the meeting, and there were they following behind her. Soldiers. Tempestus Scions judging by the red tint to their armour and the large rounded barrels that connected to the backpacks they wore. Following behind them was a man that was bald and holding a sceptre of some kind, his left hand held to his head as he muttered loudly.

"I am Maxine as you well know. I am here to take you to Princess Base. Please, follow me and be quick about it. You do not want to be caught when this portal closes." She called out, motioning for them to follow her out. "Only those who are invited may join us. Those of you who are not, do so at your own peril." She said, her voice deadly serious.

There was a mounting hubbub, the delegation shouting, a few of them demanding answers, answers that Maxine was not providing as she stood there and smiled pleasantly at them. Something told Piggot that she was used to politicians being stupid. Piggot had seen that same smile in her own face on a constant basis, usually after a meeting with the other Directors who all had politicians leaning on them for this or for that.

Regardless, Piggot had come all the way out here, she was not going to be left out because some stupid politicians wanted to make an issue of the way the woman made her entrance. Or that she wanted them to leave their cronies behind.

Getting to her feet, something that was becoming a feat as time went on, her body was tired, her bones aching. A brief expulsion of air and she was up, walking forward, brushing through the assembled crowd as she did so.

"Ah, Emily. It has been a week, how good to see you." Maxine smiled at her, it even looked like she was being genuine about it. The woman held out her arm and Piggot smiled in return, courteous too. Maxine was going to lead her through to the other side, in for a cent, in for a dollar. Placing her hand on the woman's arm, Piggot allowed herself to lean gently on her as she looked at the Portal that was mere feet away.

As she allowed Maxine to gently push her through Piggot felt like she had been dropped into another world.

The feeling was one of… purple. So much… purple. It was strange, so very strange. Everywhere she looked was just purple waves, purple currents, purple smoke, purple, purple, purple. It was in her ears, the sound of purple. It was in her nose, the smell of purple. It was in her eyes, the sight of purple. It was at her skin, the feel of purple. It was… all… strange, ephemeral. The only way she knew where she was going was because there was there was a small light at the end of what she assumed was a tunnel. A light that told her that it was on the right track, hopefully.

She grinned it looked like she was going to be the first one through the portal. A win for Piggot kind. Let the politicians bicker, she was going to be out first. A little petty but when one was in her position, petty was all she had. Immature and childish, but she was allowed certain liberties at her age.

"Well now Emily, brace yourself. Things are a little… loud. As we step out of the portal." Maxine said, gently easing her through the.

Maxine wasn't lying, it wasn't just a little loud, it was tremendously loud. It was bright. It was angry. It was… everything. The sensations were overwhelming and after the peace of the portal, this was like being assailed from all sides by sensations that wanted to drown her in them.

Disorientating was a polite way to put it. Shaking her head a little Piggot looked up and as he eyes acclimated to what was on the other side, they opened as wide as they could physically get. This was…

"A room." Came the voice behind her, Director Costa-Brown coming out of the portal and gazing at what was in front of both of them. They had emerged in the corner of an enormous hallway of some kind, the kind of hallway that one might expect tanks to roll down on their way to the battlefield.

Only the problem was that it was the size, that being of dozens of meters wide and had a clearance of that width high. Whatever it was they were bringing through was massive. The Titans that she had read about? They had those?

This was certainly worrying.

Behind them the volume of the voices increased, the delegation obviously overcoming their desire to rant and rave after the target of such ranting and raving had disappeared. Shouting at men armed with laser guns wasn't exactly the most intelligent of things and even the politicians has seen to that.

Even if Piggot wished one or 2 had tried to push them.

"Clear!" Came the shout from behind, the Delegation had finally come through.

"Close the portal Konrad," Maxine called out, the grunt of acknowledgement behind Piggot causing her to spin around. The man was a spindly little thing, looked far too fragile be here. Slightly worrying, what if he had died while they were still inside? Goodbye Piggot.

She was very glad that she had gone first. Very glad.

Piggot took a deep breath, it was not every day that one came close to death even if it was an unwitting one.

She looked about. It was time for the introduction then she supposed.

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Threadmarks Interlude 16

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 20, 2016

#98

"Now then some matters of housekeeping." Said Maxine, raising her voice so that the entire delegation could hear her. "Please take one of these golden pins from the Scions around you. As Piggot turned to find one, she caught the eye of Maxine who was holding out 2 pins, one for her and one for Costa-Brown, a smile and a wink as she took it.

"Keep these in your persons at all times. If they leave your person we will not be responsible for the consequences." Her voice was uncomfortably serious.

"For a demonstration of these consequences please, look up." Taking a red pin from her side, Maxine threw it up into the air, in response to which turrets dropped down from the ceiling of the tunnel, others emerging from the side on their pintle mounts, some having what looked like 6 guns mounted in a rack of some kind.

They fired and thankfully Maxine had thrown the pin to the front, the defence system striking down at it from every angle except the ground itself. All that was left was a smoking crater, molten concrete splattered around the area as well as well as shell casings for the bullets.

That and the persistent ringing noise that indicated they were all partially deafened.

"Hurosius, be a dear and reset the sentry systems for me please." Called out Maxine. The turrets flashing green before pulling back into their little alcoves.

"If you do not want that to happen to you, please wear your pin at all times, and do not go 10 meters beyond the yellow line that we are standing on right now. It will not end well for you if you do."

"But I don't have a pin!" Came, the panicked shout.

"There were enough pins for every invitation. It appears that we have extras. A few uninvited guests. Please identify yourselves, or do I need to go through the guest list?"

"My aides! I brought my aides. They aren't spies" Came a different voice this time. A Senator if she remembered correctly.

"Did I not specifically say to you Mr Lucas George that you were to come alone?"

"They are my aides, every Senator has them! Why did I have to leave them behind!"

Maxine walked over to the man, unhurried, unworried. Her hand reaching into her dress and pulling out what looked to be a Laspistol. Standing in front of him she gazed into his eyes.

"Shall I do it, or shall you?" She asked with bone chilling calm, as if she did this every day. A bit of smoked brain in the morning before cereal.

"I… I… What?" He whimpered.

"Just as you had shot them yourself, you have condemned those who you ordered to follow you to damnation. Now I repeat myself. Shall you do it. Or shall I?"

As the man continued to whimper, crying, fat tears rolling down his chubby face, muttering, quivering. Maxine raised the pistol and pulled the trigger.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

The sound of splattering flesh, the soft sizzle, the smell of bacon, and for those closest, the sensation of being bathed in blood. All of this in the silence that followed.

"Prime." She said softly, the now silent hall carrying her voice.

"Yes, Sister." Came the voice as the Scions moved, shouldering into the crowd and dragging out those who were not meant to be here, they who did not belong. They were taken, kicking and screaming to the sides of the hallway where the Scions shot them one by one. Their bodies jerking as nerves misfired, the smell of piss and shit filling the air.

The Heroes weren't moving, the threat of the turrets firing at them and into the delegation being too much.

"It appears that we have a misunderstanding. For some reason unknown to me, you have decided that the edicts of the Princess are mere suggestions. That they are for lesser men, that you need not obey for you are superior. That you are special.

"Know this now. You are here on the sufferance of the Princess, you who are worth nothing have been given the opportunity to meet her as equals. Yet you spit on her conditions, you flaunt her mercy.

"Did I not specifically detail that you were to come alone? The Princess has extended her hand to you, treated you as equals and this is how you repay her? I have taken an arm from each of your transgressors. This is a warning. You will not receive another.

"The transgressors will remain behind, they will be returned to you once the tour is over. Remember, you are here on the suffrage of the Princess, every step you make, every breath you take, is by her will. Do not presume to take advantage of her mercy.

"You may be under the assumption that we are nice that we are somehow… soft. That the interview demonstrated weakness. Please, leave those assumptions behind. We are still the Imperium and the Imperium is not some paragon of mercy. We do what we must to survive, to remain strong, there is no room for petty concerns such as being nice.

"We have taken a leaf from your book. This is being livestreamed, the world shall see exactly what it is that they are dealing with, they shall see what this Imperium is, and they shall know what are willing to do. They shall see what you see. They shall know what you know.

"The Princess has decreed that we show unto you mercy, that we demonstrate the good of the Imperium that we might sway you to our side. We have done so. The transgressors remain alive, be thankful that she is a merciful God. Do not push us further.

"If you would follow me." She finished, her voice had never risen through that speech yet it was that each of them felt as if they were being flayed alive by her words. Each word delivered as if it were a bullet, slamming home with pinpoint accuracy.

Piggot felt her opinion of the woman shift again. She had been the negotiator, the generous host, now the smiling killer. Piggot had felt that perhaps the lore regarding the Orders Famulous had been a mite exaggerated, the entire universe had the reputation for being overblown after all.

After this… her opinion had changed to consider that perhaps things had not been exaggerated after all.

She was warm, she was also very very cold blooded. A diplomat, another breed entirely from that of the politician. One that would need to be treated very carefully since her idea of morality was very different from their own.

Piggot felt that perhaps maybe going to America was not the best idea for this Princess, they were a very unruly lot and there were going to be many deaths by the time this was over. Not exactly the most encouraging of news but necessary.

Piggot was a pragmatist, she knew that she hated capes, had an almost irrational hatred of them in fact. But she was also a realist, the world needed a saviour and this Princess was volunteering. If mankind was to be saved from its inevitable doom, then having something that was the definition of authoritarian in charge might just be the price they needed to pay.

As it was, as she toddled after Maxine, Piggot was trying to hide her smile. If they were all like Maxine, then maybe things would get done for a change. The Endbringers had come and what had Washington done? Nothing. It had sat on its ass, gave funding to wonder weapon projects and accepted that things would not be the same.

From that point on things had been locked into a permanent state of stasis, of fear. Nothing had changed and Bureaucratic inertia has begun to become a major issue. What with lifetime politicians gaining the seats of power, the future looked dim indeed.

But with the way Maxine just cut through all that bullshit? Maybe there was hope for them after all.

"I hope that was not too exciting for you Emily, I let myself go just now and I forgot you were here," Maxine said, beaming at her. In a rather worrying and definitely not disturbed way.

"No, no I am fine. Just old age. Nothing I won't push through." Piggot replied.

"When we establish the Juvant treatment systems here, I'll put you at the front of the line Emily dear."

Piggot chuckled at that. Maxine was just so very friendly, something that belied her brutality. It was something that she had generally seen in villains, but if the Imperium was as they had read, then maybe villains would be taking positions of power.

"How about you Rebecca? Are things well?"

"As well as they could be when somebody or somebodies dropped a very big bombshell last week." Was Costa-Brown's reply, a tiny bit acerbic, a tinge of worry. She was playing the "ignore the shooting innocent people" game as well Piggot could see. It would be unwise to upbraid her in her own territory, not when they were just fleshy humans.

"It was unplanned that was for sure. The two of them haven't been around civilians for so long they have forgotten that they like to receive their news covered in softener. They have been reprimanded of course but for them, it is likely just another addendum to a list the length of a battleship." Maxine sighed out, shaking her head regretfully.

"Intentional or not, their words brought hope. It is why we were so willing to accept your invitation. Something that some likely are regretting now." Piggot added, a little jab in there to remind Maxine they were just a little different from what she was used to.

"Hope drawn from words is empty, it is nothing more than a placation that does nothing but leaves them weak and vulnerable when the words have worn off. It is much better to derive your hope from actions, at least then it is substantiated." Was the reply, a little harsh in the tone, something personal perhaps?

"Then the words of the Princess are false?" Piggot carefully prodded.

"No, but when they will come true is the concern. The Princess is still a fledgeling Primarch, she has as of yet, tapped into the full breadth of her powers, it is why we are here. That and she has proven to be very… Brocktony in her attitude a desire for peace, for cooperation. It is dangerous." She whispered to Piggot and by extension Costa-Brown. In a very… carefully modulated voice, one that no doubt was set at a very specific volume to barely trip whatever recording device was present. "Should she fail to deliver, would not the despair be many times greater than what it would have otherwise been?"

Piggot played along, grinning inwardly. One did not get to where she was by being blind to the games that politicians liked to play. Still, it was harmless enough, if the Princess was indeed as "nice" as Maxine was making her out to be, then there wouldn't be anything to lose. If she wasn't, well that kill order could always be issued if it was necessary. Assuming again that she was weak currently, which was likely given their research.

The fastest a Primarch grew to adulthood was approximately a year, others took many times longer. Which meant for them that they were reasonably safe, the Princess would not be doing anything big for a year at the very least.

"Should you be telling me this?" Piggot whispered back.

"It is all available on the tool you call the internet regardless. There is no point as to try and lie is there? As to her desire for pacifism? It will become evident rather quickly. Hiding it is of no use." Maxine said, a little frustration in her voice.

No doubt her student (if that was what the Famulous was for), was rather irritating if she was like Maxine was describing. A Primarch that was completely different from all the others, it must be knocking down a few preconceptions.

"Now then, we are approaching the first set of blast doors. Please stand back, there is the possibility that you may be crushed if you rush ahead blindly. Please do not rush ahead blindly, I do not wish for the responsibility of cleaning your corpses when this is over." Maxine called out to the group, her voice reaching out to the rear of the group.

The blast doors as she said were indeed that… blast doors. Only they were the size of the cavern, large enough that an Endbringer would be able to move through it with no concerns of bumping their extremities on anything. It was painted with yellow and black stripes, caution signs transcended universes apparently. The skull set high above was flashing red, no doubt a signal for caution.

As they came closer, the skull flashed to green, the sound of gears turning away inside the wall accompanied the sight of the doors as they slid open.

"Welcome to Hangar Bay 082. Please, do not stray."

Spoiler: AN

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Threadmarks Interlude 17

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George12

George12

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Nov 21, 2016

#122

Hangar Bay 082.

The name itself was enough to give Piggot and the others in the delegation party pause. 82 Hangar Bays? What the hell were they doing in there? What did they need 82 hangars for?

"What is it exactly that you need 82 Hangars for?" Piggot asked, having unofficially and quite without her consent being made into the spokesperson for the group.

"Each Hangar is for a Squadron of Mobile Suits, they are much more suited for urban environments than ground vehicles are." Came a voice that was quite definitely not Maxine's. It was far too metallic, far too… alien. Strange. As if it had… oh right. It did come from a machine.

"Everyone, this here is Hurosius, senior Engiseer in Princess Base, it is his duty to ensure that we are all in working condition." She said, waving over at the robed figure as she did.

He was… strange. It was like a monster that was trying to parody a human, a metallic Case 53. Crimson red robes were draped over what was vaguely a humanoid form, only underneath, metal tentacles rose from under the hems, waving around the body in a vaguely hypnotic fashion, each one tipped with what looked to be another manner of tool or item, one even holding a… an... oiling tin? His feet were hidden from view, the hems dragged on the ground, but the metallic sound as he came closer told the story that he was very much not organic all the way. Which was rather obvious considering the large… screws? On his back on articulating arms, others still were welding torches, clamps and more.

The biggest giveaway that drew their eyes was his face. A construction of flesh and metal, a respirator, red lenses instead of eyes, the throat being covered or replaced entirely by silvery flesh. A small speaker of some kind set into the base of his throat, the very same one that was speaking to them previously.

"Greetings Delegates. You are still alive. This is good. I had predicted a 43% chance that you would have been killed." He said in a very matter of fact manner. It might have been because he was saying it in a monotone, but it was certainly shocking either way.

"Why 43%" Asked Costa-Brown, tilting her head as she did so.

"You are fully organic. This adds a 25% chance of catastrophic failure to all endeavours, the remaining 18% is due to the large numbers of incompetents, each adding a 1% chance of catastrophic failure." He replied, the large… wrench/cog/axe staff held in his hand thumping the ground for emphasis.

"How are we incompetent?!" Came the shout, a male, probably an idiot. Or a politician. Why had they been invited again?

"Publicly available information gleaned from what you call the internet has put your overall success rating at below 25% for all goals and objectives. Grounds for recycling." He said, the delegation shuddering at the image of being "recycled."

"Well now Hurosius, no need to scare them all," Maxine said, laying a hand on what was his arm(?) under the robe.

"No need to scare the organics. You have done so adequately with your demonstration." Hurosius said, Piggot grinning despite herself. This was an interesting one. Even though they were meant to be more logic than emotion, or even if he was more metal than man, at least it helped his dry wit.

Heh.

"Yes yes. Why not explain what it is about these Hangars that need 82 of them." Maxine said, just a little desperately.

"Hangars, each to hold 4 Mobile Suits, Leo Class, 16.2 Meters tall, 7 Tonnes in weight at 1 gravity." He said.

The delegation bit back a gasp at that. So the Mobile Suits were Titans, and they had enough to warrant that many hangar bays? Just what was it that the Princess was planning to do? With that much firepower, even if it was the smallest of the Titans, they would be able to easily take Brockton Bay and maybe even the rest of the state. Just what the hell was going on? At 16.2 meters they were taller than a Warhound Titan, not as tall as a Warlord, some new class they were not aware of?

"A little more elaboration?"

"Leo Class, 532 Screws, constructed from Plasteel…" Hurosius launched into an explanation that was certainly very… detailed.

"No no. You will just put them to sleep. Let's just get going, we are going to run late if we keep this up." Maxine said, pushing Hurosius just a little.

"Ah, that's where the Clanker went. Been looking everywhere for you." Came a voice from behind Hurosius, a giant of a man walked into view. He must have been 2 meters tall at the minimum, broad enough of shoulder that he could probably carry Piggot and Costa-Brown on each arm without breaking a sweat. It was certainly… interesting to see. Even Piggot felt herself appreciating the view.

He wasn't wearing a shirt, his tanned skin glistening with sweat. Clearly, he had been doing some exercise or something that had him moving those muscles. His dark hair was cut short, barely going down to the back of his neck, while his face was clean shaven. Eyes of a dark mocha, cheeks of a rather hard angle but with enough flesh on them to make him look tough instead of hard. The jaw was square enough that if she wanted, Piggot could probably use it to carve wood.

"This here is Sergeant Black of the Catachan Butter Crows." Sighed Maxine, clearly, this tour was not going the way she wanted it to.

"Aye sheila, that's my name alright. Now who are these yobbos and which ones do you want me to kill?" He asked, leaning against the blast doors. As he gazed at the delegation, even those who had been in Vietnam and the like felt themselves tensing up, his gaze reminded them of the LRRPs and their brutality in battle, even if they were jovial out of it.

"I don't want you to kill any of them. Aren't you meant to be training the Princess?" Maxine asked, hand on her hips, exasperation in her tone. She was displaying more animation and emotion in the last few interactions than Piggot had seen of her in the admittedly short time they had spent together.

The small amount of affection in her voice when talking to Sergeant Black hinting at something more. Piggot shut down that line of thought immediately, she had long since given up the pleasures of the flesh, more a necessity than anything else, but it helped if she convinced herself it was voluntary.

"Ah, yea. A little bit of a problem with that. She's gone a little… flowery." He said, scratching the back of his head in a move that should have made him look like a slob, but only enhanced his masculinity.

Dammit Piggot, this was not the time.

"What do you mean flowery?" Maxine asked, her tone like what she had used when she had shot the aides at the other end of the hallway.

"Well, something to do with her powers being unlocked or something of the like. You wanna come and have a look?" He asked, looking abashed and a little worried at the same time.

"Yes, I shall. Lead the way Sergeant."

Maxine turned to the delegation, her voice raising again, "Everyone, a change of plan. We were originally planning a tour of the central staging hub, then meeting the Princess, but we will instead reverse that and start with the Princess. Please follow me."

"Ok Maxxy, let's go." Sergeant Black said, walking down the hallway, out through the blast doors and onto what looked like a gantry only much larger than anything Piggot had ever seen or walked on.

As the delegation followed, they could only marvel at the sheer scale of technologies presented to them. What they were seeing were not Titans, they were instead something much more humanoid looking, each of them upright and locked into their bays by a series of clamps to the arms and the legs. Each was coloured a bright scarlet armour for the torso, navy blue legs, and a scarlet stripe down the outside of the leg. It was certainly not what they were expecting now that they thought about it.

Hunched over machines of death these were not, rather they were upright and downright human. The head, the arms, even the fingers. The only part that looked different being the little square hatch that covered what was likely the optical array. Each was carrying what looked to be a large cannon of some kind.

Standing tall and proud, the delegation walked to an elevator which took them up to a gantry at chest level, no doubt where the entry points were. As the delegation continued their little walk, flanked by the armoured giants, each felt rather small. Each in different ways. The military men were rather excited at the idea of cooperation if it gave them access to an arsenal of this caliber. On the other hand, the civilians not used to the idea of military tools that were outside of their oversight committees were very worried indeed. This was not what should be happening and they very much wanted things to go back to making sense.

They were expecting tank squadrons or something. What the hell were these fucking things doing?

Piggot was considering the damage that was going to be done to her city when these were unleashed on it. That many giants? How many homes would be crushed? How many families displaced? How much property damage? Casualties? She did not need this right now. Dammit, why did things have to be so complicated.

Suddenly one of them activated, the loud, almost bassy squeaky sound of what must have been the gears or some internal mechanism rang out through the cavern, reverberating loudly. In front of them to the right, one of the mechanical giants had activated, the little hatch on the opticals flipping open to reveal a large square that flashed red. Something to tuck away for future reference, if that was an indication that the thing was on. A klaxon played above it, the skull that houses it flashing red.

An indication to get far far away she was sure.

Next came its steps. As it walked out of its bay, each step caused the gantry to shudder slightly, the vibrations carrying up into their legs. Each member of the delegation took a moment to steady themselves as the giant walked toward them, parallel to the gantry that ran down the middle of the hangar itself. Each step was one that carried with it momentous weight and power. The entire world pausing every time its foot slammed into the ground.

The smoothness of movement, the way in which each leg moved without that characteristic stop and start of typical robotic designs, the fluidity of the arms, the clutching of the fingers, all of it told Piggot that these were indeed much more capable than she had previously thought. The clunky robots in her mind replaced by what was very clearly a monster that could move and react just as well as a slightly larger human, a problem.

Why this one had activated and moved down the line was a concern. Perhaps Maxine had prepared it ahead of time in order to show the world what it was that the Mobile Suits were capable of? No doubt some of the more technically minded were already dissecting the Mobile Suits with their eyes, after they got over the casual violence that Maxine had perpetrated. Many of them were going to need to empty their stomachs after watching that .

As for Piggot, she had been at Ellisburg if she wanted to see disturbing, she would just rewatch some of her memories.

Following after Maxine, Piggot could hear what was very clearly soldiers and some more traditional vehicles through the next room. The squeaking noise that came with tracks, the stamp of coordinated marching, the clanking of machinery. Whatever it was on the other side was very much going to be the "normal" stuff Piggot thought.

As they walked, Maxine took a hard right just before the doorway. Wasn't she meant to be showing to them the might of the Imperium? Why was she turning away now?

Oh right, they were on their way to meet the Primarch that was apparently having trouble with her powers. Something about her being "flowery" whatever that meant.

Piggot considered her options as she trundled along, if the stories of the Psykers going crazy and killing all those around them were true, it would likely be in Piggot's best interests to not be in the general area around the Princess. How she was going to get away was another issue entirely.

Last edited: Nov 22, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 18

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George12

OAMU

Nov 21, 2016

#123

Director Emily Piggot of the Brockton Bay PRT had seen many things before in her life. Many strange things, many wondrous things, and many horrendous things as her tour of duty through the PRT and then as the Director of the Brockton Bay PRT. What was in front of her was up there in terms of… strange. The delegation was looking through a large glass wall into a room that resembled a forest meadow than an actual room that they had been assured had been made of ferrocrete.

Instead, in the center was a young woman with her back to them, she was wearing a dress that was backless, stretching down to the middle of her back, down on the floor and dragging a little at the back hem. It was a simple dress, on that was white with gold trimmings on it, one that would be considered a summer dress if not for the backless part of it. From what they could see, the woman was quite tall, probably around 1.8 meters-ish. For a Primarch however, she was rather thin, proportioned to her height and human values, not those of the 40k universe.

Her shoulders were normal... thankfully.

"That is the Princess, the 39th Primarch." Said Maxine.

"She does not look as if she is ready for outside company, please stay inside this room while I go in to talk to her." Maxine said, her voice implying that the "please" was backed by the Hellguns that her Stormtroopers were holding silently, menacingly. It would take a particularly stupid man or woman to ignore the implicit threat… of which there were no doubt many of them.

Maxine for her part quickly entered the room, pushing forward through the meadow that was beginning to sprout bushes and small trees. It was… growing. Was this the flowery bit mentioned by Sergeant Black?

He had disappeared shortly after guiding them into the room, off to where Piggot didn't know, it was not as if she had any idea of how Princess Base was constructed. She was just the Director of the PRT in this damned city. If they applied for building permits or something of the like it would have been so much easier and she could have prepared contingency plans and the like. Knowledge was half the battle and knowing that they had constructed something "big" was not all that useful if she didn't know what was inside of it.

"Hello there Princess. Anything I should know about?" Maxine asked, placing an arm gently around the Primarch's shoulders in an almost motherly manner.

"Well… I sort of unlocked my powers and now… I'm sort of like this? I don't know how to control it Maxine and it's going crazy." She sounded young, very young. Perhaps the stories of the Primarchs having accelerated growth was true.

"Can't control what dearie?" Maxine gently probed, hand running up and down the Primarch's back.

"The green stuff. It changes depending on my mood and right now I'm… neutral? The plants are always there, but depending on my mood they sort of have extra effects." She said, sounding a little unsure. This was good, a young and unsure Primarch was one that they could possibly influence to not end the city, and maybe the rest of the country if Piggot was feeling generous.

"Ok dearie, and how did you unlock these powers? I thought you could only communicate with Magnus?" Maxine asked, gently sitting the girl down on the grass. It was too hard to think of her as a Primarch, not when she looked so much like a young and vulnerable girl.

"Well, my… Father Emperor? Ummm. F-emperor showed up and used his powers to help me out, did something to jumpstart it all." The girl said, leaning into Maxine.

Something to consider for future, Maxine could be used as leverage over the Primarch if her level of comfort with the woman was any indication. At the same keeping Maxine safe was to take high priority. Having a mother figure of an immensely powerful being, in charge of an immensely powerful armed force being killed? That was an act of signing your own warrant if Piggot had ever seen it. Hopefully, there wouldn't be anyone stupid enough to try it. She also hoped that she wasn't foreshadowing anything, she had far too much to deal with without an angry Primarch after her head or other body parts, probably in pieces.

Maybe not the skull, though, those had different connotations in their universe?

"Well that's something that's rather good don't you think? If the Emperor is able to communicate with you then isn't that something special? There are billions of people that would be willing to die for a chance of the Emperor speaking to them you know." Maxine gently chided the girl.

"Ummm. F-emperor is a little… weird. Are you sure he's really like you said he was?" The young woman asked, sounding a little hesitant.

"What do you mean by weird?" Maxine asked, trepidation in her tone.

"Well… F-emperor…"

DID I NOT EXPLICITLY TELL YOU NOT TO USE THAT WORD? CALL ME DADDY.

The voice boomed through the room. Or it felt like it had. Piggot felt it in her soul, at a fundamental level. Much like the portal before, this voice, these words, they transmitted themselves to her on a level that was so fundamental that language did not matter. No doubt any who heard this would be able to understand it regardless of where they were from, so basic was the language. If she had to name it… she could call it "human."

"No. I am not using that word. I already have a dad. You can be Father Emperor." Said the Primarch, her arms crossed in front of her, voice a rebellion.

ALREADY IN THE REBELLIOUS PHASE I SEE. DADDY FEELS SAD. DON'T YOU LOVE DADDY?

"No no no. I mean yes I do care about you. But it's been like 3 months, how am I supposed to love you?" She asked, sounding a little bewildered.

3 MONTHS WAS ENOUGH FOR ME TO CONQUER HALF THE WORLD. 3 MONTHS IS ENOUGH TIME FOR ANYTHING IF YOU TRY HARD ENOUGH. YOU AREN'T TRYING TO LOVE ME HARD ENOUGH. TRY SAYING "I LOVE DADDY EMPEROR" 50 TIMES A DAY, EVERY DAY.

The Delegates could only stare on in a twisted sort of fascination. What they were seeing or rather hearing was meant to be the most powerful being in the galaxy (or his galaxy at least) imparting his wisdom. Yet here he was talking about the most cringeworthy things that they had ever seen. It was… nauseating and disturbing.

What made it worse was that each word was imparted onto the soul, meaning that no matter how much they wanted to, they would never be able to forget this exchange. Their souls, and that of those all over the world, they who were watching were doomed to forever remember in perfect detail a conversation between Emperor and Daughter that should not have been in public. Or anywhere at all.

Where was his dignity as the Emperor of Mankind! Piggot wanted to scream out, her sense of self preservation keeping her from doing so. She didn't want to be exploded into dust after all.

"No that's stupid. I don't want to do that." She said, refusing to give an inch.

DADDY EMPEROR IS SAD. DO YOU HEAR THAT MALCADOR? MY DAUGHTER DOESN'T LOVE ME

Wait. Wasn't Malcador supposed to be dead? Why was he here?

"Dammit Bob, what are you doing to her now?" Came a third voice, this one sounding as if it belonged to someone who was an embodiment of the idea of "old and wizened wise man".

THERE IS NO BOB HERE. THERE IS ONLY THE EMPEROR.

"Right right. Yes. What is it oh Emperor of Mankind that you are doing to your daughter?" He asked, sounding just a little put out.

SHE DOESN'T LOVE ME!

"It's been 3 months. What exactly are you expecting here Emperor of mine?"

COMPLETE DEDICATION OF HER SOUL AND BEING TO MY AWESOMENESS. ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF MY AWESOMENESS. SPREADING OF MY AWESOMENESS.

"She is currently being ordered to kill some Greater Daemons on her homeworld, conquer it and liberate the people. How exactly is she going to dedicate her soul to you when she has more important things to worry about?" A good question actually. The Emperor was certainly a little worrying but at least his advisor kept him under control.

SHE SHOULD JUST CONQUER THEM ALL AND GET ON WITH IT. DIDN'T I DO THE SAME ON TERRA? IT WAS LIKE 500 TIMES BIGGER THAN HER LITTLE PLANET AND SHE'S TAKING SO LONG. JUST KILL THEM ALL, THEY AREN'T WORTH IT.

And Piggot felt herself tensing up, as no doubt every other delegate in the room. Around the world, the civilians, the soldiers, the law enforcement, all of them tensed up. The anger in those words, the determination to end their lives was on such a fundamental level that it reverberated through them, slamming into their souls, knocking them back. If the Emperor had so wished it, he could have made each of them kill themselves, of that they were sure on some level that couldn't articulate words or even thoughts.

Each was left with the knowledge that they were standing before a being of immense power, of how small they were in comparison. Of how… weak they were, how pitiful this all was.

Piggot felt a tear roll down her cheek. She didn't dare look around, no doubt all the others were crying as well. To know of your failings and to be judged as wanting, even if it wasn't with words struck them at their souls.

"No. I will not! They are my people and I will do whatever I can to help all of them! I am not going to force them to worship me!" Shouted the Girl, her determination, her resoluteness bringing a smile to Piggot's lips.

She was determined to stand up to her father, even if it meant standing up to the awesome power that was pressing down upon them. The girl cared, and that was something that everyone was going to walk away with the knowledge of.

She cared and she was willing to stand up to the awesome power of the Emperor, himself before for them, for people that she didn't even know.

It was humbling.

HAH! THEY WON'T EVEN THANK YOU FOR IT. HUMANS ARE PETTY AND WEAK, THEY NEED A FIRM HAND TO GUIDE THEM. CAN YOU BE THAT HAND? KILL A FEW AND THE REST SHALL FALL IN LINE.

"Yes. Yes I will. I will do this peacefully, I will do this without fighting. These are my people!

THEY ARE MINE!

BWAHAHAHAHA I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING YOU TRY. GOODBYE DAUGHTER OF MINE. REMEMBER TO SAY "I LOVE DADDY EMPEROR 50 TIMES A DAY." IF YOU DO THERE WILL BE A SURPRISE FOR YOU.

DO NOT BE AFRAID OF KILLING A FEW MORTALS. THEY CAN ALWAYS BE REPLACED.

The gaze was gone, each one of them sagging down. The absolute power was gone and they were feeling… safe. The exhilaration that they had escaped certain death bringing a wide smile to their lips. The adrenaline rush of escaping something that was so many times bigger and more dangerous than they could ever be causing their legs to shiver without anywhere to let it out.

Piggot found herself wishing for a chair, she was too damned old for this shit. Why the hell was it that the world had decided to go to hell on her watch? Why couldn't it wait for whoever was coming next?

Still, she resolved herself to treat the Primarch with a bit more leeway, the girl was clearly acting with the interests of humanity at her core if what had just happened was any indication. Her determination had burned itself into Piggot's soul, there was no doubting her and on a fundamental she knew that.

For now at least the young Primarch was on their side.

The Primarch was lying down, tired? Maxine stood up and walked out of the room.

"Apologies but the recent… events have tired out the Primarch. We shall continue with the tour and perhaps revisit the Primarch when there is a more suitable time." Maxine said, smiling apologetically at them, her arm waving them out of the room.

Last edited: Nov 21, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 19

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 21, 2016

#124

Emily Piggot, Director Emily Piggot of the Brockton Bay PRT was sitting at her desk. Enjoying the feeling of not being in an aircraft that was far too damn small for her liking, while also being in a chair that was several times more comfortable than what her flight allowance allowed.

It was comfortable, it was nice, it was a chair. It was also a chair that was in front of the desk which she did most of her work on. Which meant that Piggot was in front of her work desk and was currently trying to do work. Not something that she would have really wanted to be doing after a day like today. At least Brockton Bay was close (sort of) to Washington and she didn't need to fly across the country unlike a few of the more unlucky directors.

The entire day had been… strange. It was at parts wondrous, at parts terrifying, at parts amusing, at parts monotonous and boring. Yet it would stay in her mind for the rest of her life, she was sure of that. The way that they had entered the facility in the first place, the way that she had been witness to the casual brutality of Maxine, of the way she had been there as a Mobile Suit walked past her, shaking the very ground itself due to its weight. Of how she had seen the Primarch argue with what was no doubt the most powerful in existence, the God Emperor.

The rest of the tour had been similarly mind numbing in the intensity, the implications of what she had seen when cross checked with the briefing she had taken part in previously that outlined the different regiments, the different vehicles, the different weapons systems, the different troop formations (of which information was depressingly varied and non-uniform), the way the different mechanical equipment should work and so on. All of it crammed into her head in a 2 hour briefing session.

Most of it had gone out the other side again, she wasn't some kind of genius.

What she had seen when checking what the Princess' Guard had displayed was enough to be at once extremely worrying, and at the same time… extremely worrying. Regardless of whether or not she knew what she was looking at, a tank was a tank after all.

Walking down the corridors, the Delegation led by Maxine and followed up by the Stormtroopers was led into a large cavernous room. One that was large enough no doubt to house the titanic walkers they had seen before as well as give them enough space and room to do jumping jacks if they really wanted to. Each had their thoughts still occupied by the exchange that they had witnessed, but professionalism decreed they pay attention regardless.

It was inside here, or rather at the entrance that they were greeted by what was undoubtedly a large part of the Princess' army. Or they assumed, there were 82 Hangars after all and that meant at least 336 Mobile Suits. Assuming each one was filled of course. Hopefully, they were not. That many walking tanks would require full mobilisation of the army, air force, and potentially the navy.

Inside the Hangar were several of the Mobile Suits, standing at attention while underneath several of what she had been told were Leman Russ tanks were moving in and out of the room down the central highway. The cavern itself had 4 spokes, north, east, south, west she assumed. Each spoke was an entrance and an exit, judging by the way there were dozens of soldiers moving in and out while the vehicles moved through.

This was likely a hub area of some sort given the lack of a large number of units that were stationed here, and it was terrifying. If this was just a small part of her forces, then it was a very good thing that the Princess was so adamant on achieving a peaceful resolution to the problem of the Endbringers and uniting the world under her banner.

"That's a Leman Russ Eradicator. Why do you have one of those?" Shouted one of the generals. Piggot wasn't sure what the importance of having an Eradicator cannon was, but apparently it was important enough for him to embarrass himself like that.

"It is an effective vehicle for urban combat, why would we not have one?" Asked Maxine, sounding confused.

"I… It… It's a nuclear weapon!"

"No, it is a sub-atomic weapon. There is a difference general."

"A tiny difference! It still explodes with the force of a nuclear blast!" He retorted. "There is nothing we have that warrants that kind of weaponry!"

"There is a city above where we are is there not?" Maxine asked, her voice reasonable despite the words coming out of her mouth.

"That… that…" He spluttered.

"Do not worry my good general, it will only be used in case of a situation where we must use overwhelming force. The Princess has decreed it so." She said, her voice soothing.

"But that about that! It's a Hellhound!"

"Are we not to use them? It is highly effective in clearing out entrenched infantry." She asked, sounding perplexed.

"But it will burn down the entire city!"

"No matter, we will rebuild it."

"But the people?!"

"If they are still in the city when we bring out the armoured legions, then we can safely assume that they are the enemy, or they are potential enemies."

"But… that's not how this works. This isn't how any of this works!"

"Of course that is how it works, it is a tank, it is not complicated General."

"I don't… I don't even know anymore." Moaned the general.

"Oh. That is an Incinerator Leman Russ tank, I thought you weren't able to use those anymore because the technology is too complicated." Asked another voice.

"Oh? Why not? These are very common throughout the Imperium, the Caretakers brought with them a much deeper understanding of Volkite weapons due to their time in the Warp, it has translated to many more Volkite systems used throughout the Imperium. Can you imagine fighting Tyranids without them? Something else to be grateful to the Caretakers for." Maxine said, waving her hand gently as she did so.

As if a dam had been breached, the questions began to flow like water, Maxine fielding them with an adroitness that spoke of her upbringing and station.

"What are those regiments down there? I thought you only had the Death Korps of Krieg and Cadian regiments."

"That is the Praetorian Guard, their homeworld is a Manufactorum world and has links to several Forge Worlds which means that many of them have valuable experience when it comes to simple maintenance of their vehicles and weapons. They are the pilots of our Mobile Suits." She said, waving her hand at the men who were wearing what looked to be jumpsuits of scarlet in colour, navy legs and a scarlet stripe down the side of the legs themselves. The same colour schemes as the Mobile Suits they had seen earlier.

"Then who crew the tanks?"

"The Cadian Shock Troops. They are the most suited for this kind of terrain after all, their cities are very similar to your own, just that they are properly designed… unlike your own."

"Those Mobile Suits… what are they? Some kind of Knight?"

"No, they are a gift from the Caretakers. After the destruction of the Traitors at Terra, the Caretakers invited the Primarchs to join them at the Forge World closest to Terra that was not Mars. It was here that they demonstrated the Mobile Suits that were recovered from the Warp during their time locked away from the Materium. An STC not for the Mobile Suits themselves, but one for the Manufactorum for them. A gift of incalculable scale. Each has the armour and firepower of a tank, yet has the speed and mobility of a walker. Each one is a force multiplier of immense scale and without them the Imperium would not be where it is today.

"Each is able to wage war, to assist in civilian construction and to perform actions such as maintain our ships in the depths of the void. Each Mobile Suit is a treasure."

"These Caretakers have given you so much, what is their motivation for it?"

"They have no external motivations, they do what they do because it is for the betterment of the Imperium. They are incorruptible due to their very souls, continue to fight and provide services to the Imperium despite the fact that if they were to simply remain custodians of the Beacons, it would be perfectly within their right to do so, yet they fight and condemn themselves to decades of the worst torture imaginable by mortal minds.

"I was educated on a Beacon World and as part of the graduation courses I was assigned to assist those Caretakers who were being "stimulated" as they call it. If you do not wish to use the flowery term, they were being tortured. Their souls were the subject of stimulus, which in turn means that they are unable to go unconscious or to become numb to it, the pain is eternal. Their service over time results in this, and all of them undergo the procedure multiple times in their lives each time is longer than the last, the shortest of which is decades of constant agony.

"What we do here? Where the pain is nothing but that of flesh? It does not even compare. Do not ask why the Caretakers and the Sojourners give so freely, they have proven themselves, each and every single one of them, every single minute of every single day."

"But why? Why would they do that?"

"I know not, nor do any who are not Caretakers themselves. They give and we can do nought but accept. Do not try and ascribe guilt to them, there are none in the Imperium who would accept such a claim. Except for the Inquisition of course, but they are merely jealous."

"Is the Inquisition coming here?"

"It is up to the Princess but I should think not. She is very protective of her people as you have just seen."

"Is… is that a Deathstrike missile? Why do you have a Deathstrike missile!"

Piggot turned and stared at where the man was indicating. Her eyes wide. It was Deathstrike missile, a missile that could destroy hundreds of kilometers of space with a plasma warhead, no doubt able to destroy an Endbringer as well if they used the Vortek warheads. Yet… yet why did they have one here? Were they preparing to use it? What could possibly warrant that much destruction? They would destroy anything that they hit with that, the city and the civilians included.

"It is what one might call… Plan B. Should the Princess be unable to defeat an Endbringer, we will simply hit it with a Vortek Missile. The Princess is a being of such power that she will no doubt be able to open a portal and walk straight out again."

"But the city! The people. They can't do that!"

"If they have not practiced their evacuation drills enough for it to save them, then do not blame me for their failings. It is the duty of all citizens to know the most efficient routes for evacuation in the case of an attack. Their weakness will not endanger the Princess."

"That… that is so callous."

"We are the Imperium my good Doctor, have you forgotten that?"

And the tour continued one, stopping at what Maxine called the medicae facility. Inside of it were those that had been ordered to be left behind. Inside of it were people whose arms had been replaced with those that looked like… normal arms... only with a deep purple colour.

"A reminder to all that see them that disobeying the Princess has consequences," Maxine said, sounding rather satisfied.

From there they were returned to Washington and Piggot had made her way back to Brockton, the portal being just as strange the second time as it was the first.

Piggot sat down and considered what it was that had happened. Not from an emotional angle, but from that of the Director of the ENE PRT. The Princess' Guard had numbers, 82 Hangars of Mobile Suits, armoured regiments, countless infantry? They had the numbers and it was worrying.

She wondered briefly if it was possible that they were faking it, but dismissed the idea. Why would they obfuscate their numbers? They were the Imperial Guard, they did not do subtle, nor did they do mind games. As she flipped through the small booklet that contained the laws of the Imperium, basic culture and general differences between worlds, her head was occupied by thoughts of the recent revelations.

In the end, it was clear that there were 2 factions to worry about. There was the Princess who was very willing to defend them and even had their best interests in mind… and then there were her Guard, who were very willing to do whatever it took to protect their charge, even at the cost of horrendous civilian casualties.

Something to consider going forward.

"So… Sister… wanna explain what that was all about?" Asked Black, leaning back against the wall, coffee mug in hand.

"A sleight of hand Sergeant Black. They will believe that we are incapable of subterfuge, we are the Imperium are we not? We have pretended that our numbers are greater than they are, they will believe we have greater numbers than we have, and so they will be cautious. A necessary measure to buy time for the Princess to become the Primarch that is needed of her."

"Risky. Having all of our guys in once place."

"But a risk worth taking Sergeant Black."

Last edited: Nov 22, 2016

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Nov 21, 2016

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 22, 2016

#151

Taylor Hebert, Primarch, super awesome human being was having a good day.

Correction, I was having a good day. Fucking yes!

I beat Sergeant Black in hand to hand combat and he was like "oh noes, how could the awesome and powerful Princess beat me? Oh no, I am weak and am failing. Am ded. Ugh."

Greatest Moment Ever.

Yes. Greatest moment ever. Let us all take a moment to appreciate the greatness that is Taylor Hebert. To bask in her glory. Yes. This is Taylor Hebert, the greatest of them all. Yes. Yes. Praise me. Worship me. Oh yes.

I should get a cake. A big delicious Black Forest Cake with the purple sauce thing in the middle and those crispy little bits on the outside. Mmmm. A commemoration of the day that I became the greatest human on the planet.

Oh god. What. Oh.

I'm glowing. Because I'm happy. Wow. This… this is not going to be obnoxious at all. Taylor Hebert, you may now say goodbye to your social life. Sad and everyone gets wet, happy and they get blinded, angry and they get burned.

Good job universe.

"Ah Princess, it looks like you've gotten too strong for me." Black groans at me. From his position on the floor. Hah. Taylor Hebert, greatest of them all.

I giggle. Or rather I try not to giggle but some of it gets out.

"Ok Princess. It looks like it's time." Time? Oh. What kind of time? "Your Father said that when you were able to beat me in hand to hand combat without using your powers, I was to give you this." He said, turning around to fiddle around with his bandolier and pulling out a… candy bar. A candy bar.

What.

"You need to… oh wait. Sorry. Wrong one. Ok, this one." It was a little stick, a purple one with 2 bands of black and teal around it. How strange.

"What is this meant to be?" I asked, It was all a little strange actually, what was this meant to help with? It was just a little stick.

"I don't know what's going on Princess, don't ask me to pretend to know what the bosses think, just take the stick and I assume something is going to happen." He said, scratching the back of his head.

I nod and take the stick. Which then does absolutely nothing. 100% positively nothing.

One might even say it was worse than nothing. It got my hopes up and then brought them down on its knee.

"Ummm. Princess. You're meant to feed that to your Servo Skull." Black says.

I… ok. Not embarrassed at all.

"Servo Skull!" I should, ummm. Feed to the skull. Yes.

"Servo Skull #8998 reporting!" It shouts out at me, bobbing about in the air.

"Here." I shove the little stick into the little gap between its teeth.

"Co-o-o-o-ooooo." Did I break it?

"Good Morning Taylor. If you are seeing this, you are at the stage where you are able to move onto the next stage of your training. Sojourner Mitchelli will be joining you to further your education in the physical and spiritual matters. She will be your bodyguard and your most powerful warrior for now. She is the strongest being that is currently available to you, use her wisely. Her life is yours to spend as you see fit, however, her purpose is to protect and guide you. Your orders will have no effect on her so long as it contradicts her mandate, to protect you. However she will not be fighting your battles for you, that would defeat the purpose of your education, unless it is life-threatening she will not intervene."

"Taylor Hebert, this message has been concluded. You have 0 outstanding messages, you would like to hear that again?" Servo asks me.

"No."

"Confirmed."

Yes. This is clearly what I wanted to happen on the greatest day of my life, another babysitter. I glare at the Sergeant and he doesn't even have the dignity to look ashamed of himself.

"Don't blame me, princess, I'm just working with what I've got." He said grinning at me. I frown at him, and he looks a little scared… oh dammit. Come on Universe what the fuck is this shit? There's little bits of smoke like there's going to a fire or some shit. Fuck you universe. Fuck all your shit with a giant fucking knife and then maybe I'll get the toothpicks out.

Oh what? It caught fire? Fuck everything about this. Fuck you so hard universe. Fuck all of it.

Calm Taylor. Calm. Don't fucking lose it over some stupid shit like this. Caaalm. Yes. Keep calm.

Down girl. Slowly now.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in… deeeeep.

Hold it.

Breathe out... long.

Ok. Slowly Taylor. Repeat. Let's get calm again why don't we. Yes. calm.

"Interesting little game you got there little girl." Comes a voice. A very deep, very loud and very very big voice. The kind that you need double sized lungs to produce or something. Oh wow. I open my eyes and oh wow.

It. She. I don't know. What the fuck. Holy shit. Is this a Space Marine?

Oh wait, Sojourners are Space Marines aren't they? Oh wow, good pickup there Taylor.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

"Calm down there little girl. There we go, why don't we just take a few breaths, I'm not going to hurt you. There we go. Breathe in, breathe out alright?" She's talking. Oh wow. Every word is like this… wind. Everytime she says something my hair gets blown around. Those are some very big fucking lungs. She's so tall as well. Like… giant tall. Wow. Holy shit. Like… taller than Sergeant Black and he's massive.

What do I do with this? What do I do with her?

Calm Taylor. Calm. Don't overreact. Just… calm. Let's not let the new Space Marine think you're crazy all right.

Ok. Caaaaalm. Yes. Ok.

"Ummm. Are you a Space Marine?" Fuck. Dammit Taylor, what the fuck was that. You sounded like an idiot. But she's soooo cool. Like just look at that and say that isn't cool because that is fucking cool. I barely even reach her chest plate, like the skull on her armour is where my eyes are. Like fuck, that is awesome. Holy shit I need this in my life. Holy shit. How do I get my own suit. Where do i get my own suit.

"Sure I am little miss, Sojourner Mitchelli at your service." She grins and even does this little bow to me. Like. Wow, she is so cool. I want to be like her. She's… amaaazing.

The way she talks, the way she moves. It's so smooth. It's like… awesome. Wow.

I step back a little so I can get a better look of her, and she does not disappoint because wow. That is. Whow. Just wow.

She's about 2 heads taller than Sergeant Black, she's wearing this giant suit of armour that is coloured Black but she has these purple shoulders (which are enormous by the way), and a teal trimming to the armour. She's holding her helmet in one arm and that thing looks terrifying. I don't want to be on the other end of whoever she's with.

Oh, wait. Isn't that me? She's on my side? Awessssome.

Yes. Taylor, you are moving up in the world. Maybe she's gonna be like some kind of super soldier that is going to be teaching me how to do stuff? Or maybe she's just gonna go pick a fight with Lung? Because that would be cool too. I would be totally ok with her picking a fight with Lung.

Wait wait. Isn't she here to teach me? Dammit Taylor, think.

Her hair is white which is kind of weird. And she has these eyes that are like… black, but there is purple and teal in there and the colours just spin around. It's like someone is just mixing paint in her eyes, it… kind of looks a little scary to be honest. Wow.

Maybe I can be like her without the eyes? That would be cool.

"So little miss, where is this Primarch of yours, I'm meant to meet up with her you see. Don't want to rush your or anything, take as much time as you want." She says, smiling at me. Because Space Marines are fucking awesome. She's fucking awesome. Holy shit.

Wait. She doesn't think that I'm the Primarch? Am I not Primarchy enough for her? Have I screwed up somewhere? What's going on?

"Um. My Lady, that is the Primarch." Sergeant Black says he even sounds a little sorry.

"You're the Primarch? Girly I'm sorry. You aren't like the usual ones I'm used to you see." She saids, she even looks sorry. She's about to pat me on the shoulder it looks like but stops. Maybe she thinks I'm too fragile?

"Well if this is the case, why don't you just sit down for a little, I need to get this Power Armour off before we move to the next phase." She says grinning at me.

"How are you going to get that Power Armour off?" I ask, it doesn't look like there are any bits for her to remove.

"Well, I usually need a little help. These things are usually a team effort you know. Ah, Catachan, can you call your Tech Priest to assist? They should be able to help out." She says. Does she mean Hurosius?

"I don't know where he is currently my Lady, but I can find out for you." Even Sergeant Black sounds more respectful than usual. Is she super scary or something? That seems so weird. I thought he was disrespectful against all Authority.

Still, this is a job for Taylor Hebert! Primarch! I call up the little interface, a little trick that F-Emperor taught me just now.

Just cheeecking and there.

"He's on the 72 floor of Section E, route 0." I say, it's a little confusing at first but once you learn how things work it's not so hard really.

"Thank's little miss. Why don't you come with? You can see how Power Armour comes off. Will be a good experience for you when you get your own."

Wait, my own Power Armour? I can? Oh wow. Oh yes. Yes, Taylor. Yes. I want some.

"From the look on your face you really do want a set don't you. Don't worry, once you get strong enough, I've been told that you can summon your own set." She says as she walks out of the room.

My own set of Power Armour? Summon? Oh my god. I want that so badly.

Ah wait, there's Sergeant Black. I wonder why he was so quiet. I check aaaand Mitchelli is out of the room.

"Sergeant, why were you so… ummmm…" I try to find the words but how can I? I can't just insult him. That's rude.

"Polite you mean? Girly, that there was a Sojourner, one of the most famous warriors in the galaxy." He says. What? She was? But she was so nice!?

"I know she doesn't look it, but that there was Mitchelli, she's a Sojourner that's been around since the Emperor was still walking. From the stories she's met with every single one of the Primarchs, even those that were around before they went Traitor. Hell she's even fought most of the ones that are still here. And here's the thing Girly, most of those times she's at least broken even. Sojourners get more powerful the longer they live and she's lived so long that most of the Primarchs are younger than she is. Be a little careful there Girly, even if you were at your most powerful, she could probably put up a serious fight." He says, the most words he's ever spoken and all of it dead serious too. Oh wow.

She's that scary? And I was… oh wow.

"Let's get going Princess, don't want to make her think we're ignoring her." IOh right.

I turn around and jog out the door where Mitchelli left, Black is right behind?

"Aren't you coming Sergeant?" I ask.

"Nope, she didn't invite me Girl and I would like to keep my bits if you would." He says grinning. He knows something that I don't doesn't he…

How am I supposed to know what all these people are if I don't have time to read up on them? It's all Taylor do this, Taylor learn that. I didn't even know who F-Emperor was until Maxine told me about him after our little shouting match. It's soo… soo… embarrassing.

Ugh.

Still, she wasn't angry which was good.

I jog out and oh. She's there. Wow. She was waiting for me? I feel so embarrassed. Oh no. I must look so rude. I didn't want that to happen.

"Don't worry about it little miss. The Catachan probably warned you about me didn't he?" She doesn't look angry.

I nod a little and she laughs. She puts her arm around my shoulder and just pushes me along a little.

"Don't worry about the stories, I'm just here to help you in any way you need it. I'm the heavy hitter that keeps all the little problems in line. As for me being really good at killing things, don't worry about it, I'm here to keep you safe not fight against you." She says, laughing a little.

That… that wasn't every reassuring at all but I don't want to tell her that.

She's smiling at least, so she's not angry with me. I hope.

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Nov 22, 2016

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George12

George12

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Nov 22, 2016

#152

Mitchelli grinned. The Primarch was a little… young. Still innocent. Not as much of an asshole as some of the others, not as focused, not as… Primarchy. She was still a human which was good. The Caretakers were raised on the idea of being one with the people, of being grateful that they were the protectors of humanity, the support that held them up instead of being their shield.

One school of thought bred humility, bred humanity, the other arrogance and resentment. It was a little unfortunate therefore that so many of the Primarchs were raised on the second school of thought and turned out to be assholes. The older ones at least, blind to the ways of the world and trying to lead it in ways that humanity did not want. It was a constant battle with some of them to not have them try and turn everything into the most efficient design possible, humanity simply could not function like that.

Effective and efficient did not equal happy. It was just too bad that the Primarchs never realised that, or at least the older ones didn't, the younger ones, on the other hand, the clones… well, they were too varied to get any kind of coherent idea of what they were like. There was Magnar the Rogue Trader who was clueless more often than not, somehow stumbling into situations where he had to do some very… protagonisty things to escape from, his entire life some caricature of a pict-show. On the other hand, there was Angrone that fought and loved with equal passion, Mitchelli should know.

She had duelled him to a standstill back when she was still young, barely 4000 years old at the time, he had been 3000 and they had fought for nearly a month non-stop before both collapsed of exhaustion. As for what happened after… well, they fought for another month only instead of destroyed landscapes and ruined vistas, they destroyed beds and ruined each other for anyone else. It had been an on and off affair, every time Mitchelli ran across him on his journey through the galaxy, she enjoyed a little down time with him before going off on her quests.

Some of the younger Primarchs didn't even bother fighting at all, focusing themselves on ideas of civil governance and pursuing things like art. They were terrifyingly efficient in their chosen fields and for a long term Space Marine like Mitchelli, it was rather intimidating actually. She was made quite literally to slay the enemies of the Imperium after all, doing bureaucratic work was an anathema to her.

Still, it didn't mean that she had fought most of the Primarchs, or that she was some kind of killing machine. Sure she had done both but that shouldn't be the thing that defined her. She was a very good tracker, lost and found being her thing. She was also very good when it came to fighting giants that were several times bigger than she was. She was also good at fighting hordes of enemies that were of a similar strength (not that that had happened in a while), good at fighting hordes of weaker enemies, champion duels, against robots, against Orks, Chaos (obviously), other Space Marines… actually, now that she thought about it, she was very good at fighting, wasn't she. Hmmm.

What other redeeming features did she have?

She had a good face? And a good body? If one ignored the little black circles that were the entry points for her Black Carapace that allowed for her to better link with her Power Armour. It wasn't that big really, she didn't really care about the Power Armour, the important thing was the fact that it allowed her to link with her Virgo Mobile Suit, control it as if it were her own body.

A necessary evil, one she put up with since sometimes there were enemies that just needed to be stomped on. Like those fucking Tyranid bio-titans, who thought that was a good idea?

Still, she did her job and killed them, she was good at that.

And now she was meant to help this new Primarch? Well, she could do that. It was going to be slightly difficult of course, she was a Space Marine, when one came to her with problems, it was usually of the kind that needed smashing into little pieces. Either that or chopped, or shot, or simply destroyed in general. People weren't usually fussy when it came down to it.

Still, the Primarch had been quiet for a while now. She wasn't scared or anything was she?

Hmmm.

No questions, too easy to just one word an answer. But a statement was wrong too. Hmmm… she… she was walking and there was grass growing behind her. Ok. Sooo. Conversation starter.

"So, what's with the little carpet you have going there?" She asked, tugging her arm around the girl to bring her a little more snugly into her side. Pressure gave comfort after all. She had to be a little careful, the Power Armour's augur arrays didn't include pressure so she wouldn't know if she had squished the Primarch.

"Ummm. It happened when F-Emperor activated my powers. Now I can't control them. They follow my emotions and like… they're just there. Always." The little Primarch stumbled through her words.

There were going to need to work on her confidence, a Primarch should never be so uncertain. As for her carpet… well, that was going to need work as well. The Primarch was going to need to learn to control her emotions, it would be rather dangerous if she allowed for a permanent gauge that let everyone around her know what she wanted. Sure the humans of this planet were not any real threat to her, but when she rejoined the Emperor in the Imperium she was going to be facing many enemies, internal and external that would look for any sign of weakness from her.

The Emperor should be able to protect her, but she couldn't just rely on the Emperor for everything. She was a Primarch after all. His fists, his mouth, his legs, they were the ones that kept the Imperium ticking over.

"Well then, we're going to have to work on your emotional control, aren't we? Don't worry Little Miss, things are going to be okay now that Mitchelli is here. Nothing is going to hurt you with me around, I can promise you that." She said, bringing her hand up to tip the Primarch's chin so that her eyes could meet her own. She was deadly serious about this, she was under no order to keep things quiet or controlled, nor was she under the authority of the Primarch. Rather she was under the order of the Quest system, the same one that was hanging in the bottom right of her vision right now, a system that made no mention of limitations regarding her mission to protect the Primarch.

Protect the Primarch: Touch for Further details

Teach the Primarch: Touch for Further details

Interfere as little as Possible: Touch for Further details

Bonus Objective Kill an Endbringer: Touch for Further details

The first two were standard really, the third a little iffy, probably there so that the Primarch would learn to face her own problems, no interfering unless absolutely necessary, a pain it looked like... but the fourth? Well, that was bullshit and the system knew it. When things were optional for her of all people, it usually meant that they were so batshit bullshit that it would need an Emperor Class psyker to do anything.

Still, it would grant the mega XPs if she did, something to consider.

They walked and Mitchelli kept up the small talk, trying to keep the younger girl interested. It would help later when she was teaching her and the awe of being in front of a Space Marine wore off.

Soon enough Mitchelli was in an armouring bay, one that the Engiseer had showed remarkable foresight in constructing. Only Sojourners would be taking off their armour after all, that he had built one for that contingency demonstrated why he was here in the first place. Only the best were being chosen to serve the new Primarch, while she was vulnerable and every single soldier she had was important, only the best would do.

That and only the nicest were chosen to serve, it would not do to reveal to the Primarch too early what it was the Imperium was about after all.

Mitchelli obviously being included in that, she wasn't bragging or anything, but she was pretty damn good when it came down to it.

As the Mechanderites unscrewed and tugged off her armour, Mitchelli let out a sigh of relief. Being able to feel that air again was a feeling unparalleled by almost anything else. To be free of the confines of the armour. She had brought it along in case there was some space fighting to be done, but for everything else? Bare skin.

She was stronger than Power Armour anyway, it was just an artificial limiter to her strength. One that let her spar and train Space Marines of the other Chapters/Legions, but served as nothing but a drawback when she was in actual combat.

"Well, then Engiseer, where are my quarters?" Mitchelli asked.

"Across from that of the Primarchs. The Emperor had specific instructions when it came to that." He said, his metallic voice conveying amusement. No doubt he knew what she was capable of and wanted to see if she was going to be doing anything of the sort here. The story regarding the Sojourners being insane as they got older was something that had become something of a folk legend in the Imperium.

It wasn't that they became insane, but rather that they reached the point where they would only be receiving incremental returns in their stats as they trained or fought, so they generally went and tried new techniques, new weapons, new styles. Of course them being the minmaxers that they were, each of them tried to train multiple things at the same time, so what if dual wielding axes and singing at the same time was strange, it was the most efficient way to grind those stats up.

Mitchelli was currently working on her two-handed skill. The really big, Titan Killing weapons, the kind that needed someone of her strength to carry in the first place.

"So you're going to be training me? I can beat Sergeant Black now." Ah, the Primarch had initiated a conversation, they were making headway. Good.

"Yes, Little Miss. I've got to test you first before we do anything, but I'm going to be bringing out up to strength right quick so don't worry." Mitchelli said, raising her now unarmoured hand to that of the Primarch's own. Displaying strength far above what her body should be capable of, the diminutive Primarch pulled Mitchelli to her feet.

Perhaps there she was more capable than Mitchelli had thought she would be. Interesting.

Psykic power augmenting her muscles? It would certainly make sense now that she thought about it. Explained why she was making a veritable garden whenever she stood in one spot for longer than a second. Made sense, her body was still developing into its full potential, everything was still in a state of flux. If that was the case, then she would have to consider training her slightly differently, a style that was less physical and more mental.

Luckily for the Primarch, Mitchelli had trained in almost every single major style and knew what she was doing. In this case, she was very good at using her psykic power to maximum potential, she had her own powers after all, all Sojourners did. As they grew older and stronger, so did their powers. Nothing on the level of the Primarchs or the Emperor, but enough to hold their own for a few seconds at least.

It was going to be interesting, that was for sure.

Standing up, her armour assembled behind her at the "locker", Mitchelli strode forward towards the Primarch. Who was backing away, hands in the air. Hmmm?

"Clothes! You aren't wearing clothes!" She muttered.

What? Was the new Primarch a prude? Well, this was something to consider. She had not thought the new Primarch couldn't handle a naked woman, what was she like when it came to men? This was a very dangerous position for the new Primarch to be in. Something had to be done and fast.

What if the enemy stripped naked and rushed at her? Like those Slaaneshi Cultists?

No, the Primarch needed to learn to deal with nudity, she needed to learn to deal with things like tits an ass, things like peni. It was going to be difficult no doubt, maybe she should strap the little Prim into a chair and have her watch a series of images. No, that wouldn't help.

She was going to need to enlist some help for this one.

Training the Primarch in the art of combat, training her to strengthen her mental defences, training her to be more confident. This one needed the works didn't it?

Little Prim was going to be getting an education, Mitchelli would see to that.

Spoiler: AN

89

George12

Nov 22, 2016

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George12

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Nov 22, 2016

#153

I… I… just what the hell is this person made of?

She said something about sparring so she could test me, then she says "punch me as hard as you can," and then my hand broke. My hand broke. I can punch holes in that… concrete that the Kriegers use but she's tougher than that? What is she made of?

"Well now Little Prim, I think I've got a good idea of where you're at. Some bad news, some good news." She says to me, she's got her arms crossed and is tapping her foot a little, head looking up at the ceiling.

"Right now your body is around that of a Space Marine Initiate, just before the proper transformations take place, but still about the time when you have more resilient bones and stronger muscles. That is not a bad thing mind you, still better than 99% of the Imperium when it comes down to it. However, since you are a Primarch you're going to be getting stronger as your body acclimates to the power of the Emperor's soul.

"It hasn't been fully absorbed yet which means you have a ways to go before you can tap into that power. Which means for us, we're going to working with the techniques rather than power. Train you up so that when you get into your full capabilities, you're going to be able to use them from the get go."

That sounds… reasonable? But what about the soul stuff, how does she know about that?

"What do you mean by my soul?" I ask her, still a little out of breath.

"It's an ability that we Caretakers have, we can see the Warp, which means that we can see the souls inside of the Warp. It's not such a big deal really, everyone has a soul, some are brighter than others, some are bigger, some are funny colours, some are just weird. Yours is perfectly fine." She said which makes everything better I guess.

I have a soul which is great.

"Ok now, let's get started with your training."

What.

I thought that was the training. I just spent an hour trying to hit her and now there's more.

What.

Mitchelli grinned at the infant Primarch as she struggled to complete the training that she had been assigned. To use her powers to ensure that her body had the same lactic acid content as she did at a resting stance while also attempting to spar with Mitchelli, and at the same time read out loud the words scrolling down her eye-piece.

Something that stressed her ability to multi-task, to ensure attention was diverted evenly no matter what she was being tasked to do while also training her actual martial ability. A multi-pronged training session that was very good when it came to levelling independent stats simultaneously. It was too bad the Primarch didn't have a gamer system, but that would rather over the top Mitchelli considered, she was already going to be extremely powerful, adding more on top of it would just shatter the galaxy she was sure.

In regards to everything else? Well, the Primarch had a very good group of advisors, she would need to meet them again soon actually. Well after this training session at least.

As Little Prim swung her fist in what looked to be a straight punch of the Gryphone 6 style, Maxine reconsidered. It looked like the Primarch needed a lesson on how one actually fought properly, a lesson from someone in a similar position. Being a Primarch meant she had the power, the speed, the resilience, something that very few others had at the same time. The Gryphone style emphasised power and resilience, the Little Prim had all 3 in abundance. It was going to be a fun few weeks Mitchelli was quite sure, but one had to start somewhere.

I… I was not sure about whether or not I was still alive. I can feel my arms… I think. Are those my arms? They don't feel connected to my body. Hello? Arms? Are you still there? Have you decided to become islands? I'm sorry, can you come back now?

How about you legs? Still with me?

No?

Am I dead?

No, I can't be. This hurts too much to be death.

Oh god, I remember now. The training.

Oh God.

"Well now Little Prim, you are not bad. Not bad at all. It's going to be a little work getting you up to speed but not bad at all. Now then, let's get up and see about meeting your other teachers hmmm?"

She puts out a hand, a really big hand. It's like… the size of my head. Is she just big or am I just small?

She caught my eye, the one that is looking at her super big hand. Woops.

"Don't worry like Prim, you aren't that small. It's just we get a little big. You're still tall for a human, trust me, being our size just makes it harder to hide away you know?"

"But… the plants?!" The plants. The fucking plants that are surprisingly comfortable to lie down one, but they're still there. I won't forgive them because they are a little nice. Never!

"Oh right. Well, you could always pretend to be an Eldar." She says, like she doesn't know what the Eldar are like.

"But the Eldar are evil and they try to trick you and take your children." I say, repeating what Maxine told me.

"Hold up. What? Where did you hear that from?" She asks, looking a little worried.

"From Maxine. She said that Eldar are Xeno and can't be trusted."

She pulls me up and does that one armed hug thing. Which is kind of cool, she's not soft like Maxine, but like… really sturdy. Super tough, makes you feel all safe and shit. If Hess tried to hit her, she would probably backhand her through a wall. I wonder what happened to Hess, actually what about the outside world? It's just so… I don't know. I've been stuck here learning for the last… I don't even know.

How many days have I been down here? Oh, my god. What if the world has been destroyed by now. Oh my God. Oh my God. I need to. I um.

"You okay there Little Prim?"

"I. I don't know. I don't anything about what's happening. Oh God. I. I just."

Oh wow. What was what. She's… she's holding me like a child. Oh wow. One hand under my legs, the other around my waist, like I'm sitting on a chair or something. Wow. She's ridiculously strong.

Also, this is weird. Really weird.

"Calm down Little Prim, what's wrong."

"I haven't been outside yet. I don't know what's going on anymore. I've just been stuck here. I don't even know anymore." I've just been in there. I. I don't know anymore.

"It's ok Little Prim. How about we go and have a little fun time outside? I'll even let you put on a cape so you don't have to worry about everyone seeing your face. How about that hmm?"

"I... I would like that. " Wait what about Maxine and Sergeant Black isn't it dangerous if I reveal myself of something? Like I'm still vulnerable or something. I'm not sure what they are saying but that's the problem, isn't it?

"If you're worried we can go and talk to your instructors. Make sure that everything is done properly ok Little Prim. Don't want to worry them, do we? Let's get going ok? How about you do your thing and show me where it is?"

I pull up the map aaaand. The break room? Where is that?

"Ummm. It's the break room. There isn't a room number." I say. That's weird, everything else has numbers but this one doesn't. Umm. Ah, the next door room.

"It's next to room 98 53rd floor of Section B, route 4."

"Ah, that makes sense. Come on Little Prim, let's get going. The faster we get there, the faster we can get outside. Wanna breathe in a little fresh air. Let's hope you don't live on a Hive World huh Prim?"

She walks out of her room, which is across the hall from mine. I always wondered why there was nobody inside but it was reserved for her huh. Now she's going to get going to the break room… while carrying me.

Ok.

This is weird.

"Ummm. Mitchelli. You're still carrying me." I point out, quite rightly. I don't want anyone to see me like this. Ultimate destruction of dignity. Never again. Taylor Hebert is 15 years old, too old to be carried around like this.

"I know Prim. Need to get there quick don't we? Just hold on tight and make sure you clench your teeth. Don't want you biting off your teeth now do we?" Oh. Wait. What.

Then she jumps. The wind, the air, the… everything. I can't. I can't even. She's jumping through the base? Wow. This is just… wow. Only it's fast and I need to keep my arms around her neck so I don't fall off. That would be really bad. Very bad.

"Ah. My Lady, it is good to see you again, with the Primarch no less, is there something I may be of assistance with?" Maxine asked, the Sojourner in front of her standing upright… while carrying the Primarch.

"I hope I do not give the impression that I am merely here to take your assistance, we are to work together, it cannot be an act of cooperation if there is but one taker and one giver. If every time I visit you is one of need, I will have to visit for more social reasons in the future.f" The Sojourner rumbled in return.

It was Mitchelli, one of the greatest names in the Imperium. She was spoken of alongside the Primarchs, her prowess in battle was renown, her penchant for accepting quests from different people, heading off of decade long missions into the depths of the Void to return covered in treasure. Her acceptance of quests that took her deep into enemy lines, battling warlords, crippling armies, her prowess in battle being akin to that of legend as a testament to how outlandish they seemed in the retelling.

Her battle with the Traitor Primarch Angron was still spoken of to this day, the way she crippled him and banished him back to the Warp after a battle that lasted for three weeks of constant fighting, all those that came near them being destroyed by the titanic forces involved, regardless of whether they were mere men or Space Marine.

"Thank you for your concern, My Lady, may I ask what you have visited us mortals for?" She had been raised on a Beacon World, respect had been drilled into her for those of the Caretakers, beyond that even of what other Space Marine chapters would receive from her.

"Do not worry yourself Sororitas, I am here to alert you that I will be taking the Primarch outside, she is getting claustrophobic inside of this facility and she needs to get outside for a moment."

"Then please take with you a squad of Guardsmen to help you in defending the Princess. We cannot allow for her to come to harm." Maxine said, motioning for Sergeant Black to back off.

"I will do so, please have a squad ready for deployment at Exit ramp 23. I will be waiting there with the Primarch." Mitchelli said before turning and walking out of the room… while carrying the Primarch in her arms.

"Have fun Princess!" Called out Maxine, the Primarch's half-hearted wave in the arms of Mitchelli bringing a smile to her lips.

"Why did you let her take the Primarch out. She's not ready." Sergeant Black shoots out after the Sojourner left the room.

"That is Mitchelli, as you well know. You're the one who told me about her being summoned did you not? Worry not, she is equally adept at protecting as she is about destroying. The Primarch does need to get outside. She has not been outside since she arrived here, it is no doubt getting to her. To have her being locked here is not beneficial to her mental health. I was thinking of a different way to have her go outside but had no way of doing it. But with the Sojourner here, she will be quite safe. If there is anything that can get through Mitchelli, it would have been able to kill all of us regardless."

"Still… I'm a little worried. I'll get the boys to head out with her to make sure that the route is clear, just in case."

"I would expect nothing less."

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Nov 22, 2016

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Nov 22, 2016

#154

The city of Brockton Bay was a typical city of the coastal type. One that had a dock, a city center, a middle class area, a lower income area, a shopping district and an industrial area. It was a typical city in other words. One filled people, ones who were living a life that was filled with tensions, filled with problems, filled with villains.

When there wasn't enough food people became desperate, when people become desperate, they will do things that they were otherwise too bound by the rules of society to not to. The rules of society were an implicit agreement, after all, if one were to follow the rules, they would in turn, gain security and safety. Yet when the rules failed them, they in turn, turned away from the rules.

And so the city of Brockton bay was one that was on the brink of many things. On the brink of being turned into a chaotic wasteland of violence as the gangs broke out and began to fight, as the Protectorate tried to protect the land and territory around it.

It was on the brink of falling apart, as the numerous workers who all had nothing going for them tried to find a way to survive, any way to survive, even if that meant that they were bound to villains. It was the only option they could see that would allow them to feed their families and so they took it. A city that had nothing but crime was a city that could not exist, if they who had survived the change in the docks did not try to address the issues in the city, there would be no city left. Everyone would be leaving, trying to find something for them that allowed them to eat, to sleep.

On the brink of falling apart entirely, the new force in the city suppressing both of the gangs, driving them further and further to the brink of desperation. It was only a matter of time before they lashed out, striking at each other and all around them, civilian, enemy, and law enforcement alike, there would be no safety, not in Brockton Bay.

There were social tensions, exacerbated by the Empire, trying to find a scapegoat with which to blame all their problems on. Trying to find a means by which they could at least lay the blame at the feet of someone else. Their problems were thus defined by something that was easy to understand, that of everyone that looked different being the enemy. It was a primitive mentality, but desperate people devolved into primitive things when everything went to hell.

And so it was that the youngest of the Primarchs ventured into the city, at her side was a giant of a woman standing at two and a half meters tall. Behind them were a squad of Praetorian Guard. The Guard were highly drilled, highly motivated, and extremely professional, the kind of soldiers that served well as an escort. The fact that their uniforms were all spotless as a matter of course, assisted greatly. That and they were slightly more emotional than the Kriegers (which admittedly was not difficult) which meant that they, in turn, were very much less willing to begin shooting at the civilians that were too… rowdy.

As for the exterior, that was the domain of the Catachans and the Skyborne, each of them ensuring that there wasn't going to be any unpleasant surprises waiting for the Princess as she made her tour of the city. The Catachans took the rooftops, each ready and waiting for the slightest sign of trouble as they paced the procession. The Skyborne on the other hand, were mingling with the crowd, easing their way through, checking suspicious signs. If there was a threat, it would have to get through them first.

There was further support back at Princess Base that was being prepared in the event that things went terribly wrong. The Valkyries were on standby, ready to drop down, exfiltrate the Princess and leave at a moment's notice. Their engines were revved up and ready for an instantaneous take off if required. Vendetta's were being loaded with missiles, rockets, and bolts, the Valkyries would be getting out under their watchful eye. The Basilisks were targeting key areas in the event of an attack, ready to divert enemy attention by destroying their key facilities and structures. The headquarters of the E88, the ABB, and the PRT were all dialled in, Earthshaker rounds chambered for an immediate fire mission. After that, they would adjust the strikes as called in by either the Phantine Skyborne or the Catachans already on the ground.

As of right now, they were on standby in the elevators just below the surface, the blast doors still closed. When the call came they would rise up and fire immediately, a salvo on the way in less than 30 seconds after receiving word. As for the Mobile Suits and tank commands, they were waiting at the ramps for deployment. If the Valkyrie could not exfiltrate the Princess, the air being filled with hostile flyers, they would be heading into clear a path the hard way.

The Leos were ready in 3 locations, Princess Base on the edge of the residential areas itself in the event that the Chimera transporting the entourage needed to make an escape directly towards the nearest entrance into Princess Base, they would meet up halfway. The second team was at the Docks underneath the fortress that was already there to secure the secondary exfiltration point, while the third would be held in reserve in the event that catastrophic damage had been done to either of the first two teams.

Collateral damage secondary, the Princess protected at any cost.

Mitchelli the Sojourner had foregone her armour for this one. Deciding instead to take her Volkite pistol and her greatsword, itself being nearly 3 meters in length. She was trying to level up her two handed skill after all. As for what she was wearing, she had decided to wear clothes this time, simple Departmento Munitorum issued pants. Sure they were a bit short on her, but that was ok, it wasn't like she was wearing them as a fashion statement. Merely to satisfy Little Prim's modesties.

As for her shirt, it was a simple "sports singlet" or something of the like, it was not as if she had proper breasts anymore. The killing of her hormonal production by the Space Marining process had seen to that. She had some sure, but they weren't big… not like that Sororitas, that was just unfair. Over all of that was a set of Carapace armour kindly donated by the Kriegers. Or rather much less kind and more like it was shoved in her face, but it was the thought that counted.

Still, the Emperor gave freely and she had her increased abilities to make up for it. Even if she would have preferred maybe having a better pair of tits every now and again.

They were currently walking out along what was known as the Boardwalk. A place that the Princess had decided that she wanted to see. Why it was unknown, but they were her guards, not her tour guides. Where she wished to go was irrelevant so long as she could get there.

The procession was making waves, the populace was making a very large path for the Primarch to head down. The fact that she was the Primarch was very clear by the Praetorian Guard that that was walking behind and in front of her, the figure to her right very clearly that of a superhuman of some kind. As for the Primarch herself, she was smaller than that of her bodyguard, but also taller than that of the soldiers themselves. A rather thin form, nothing like that of the other Primarchs they had seen on the internet, but the fact that the ground itself came to life behind her was enough for even the blindest of men (metaphorically) to point out and say "that's the Primarch".

It was a Saturday, a weekend, a day when students were free to escape the dreary confines of their school lives to go out and experience the greatness that was consumerism. Purchasing things that they did not need with money that was in the form of paper, it was something that no doubt all of them were looking forward to.

Yet it was here that many of them garnered a look at the Primarch, she was wearing a cowl of some kind over her head, keeping her face hidden by revealing her eyes. Eyes that were a sharp green colour. But it was not just green… it was in such a way that left no doubt that the one behind that gaze was of a power level far beyond their own, even if they were not aware of it. They instincts demanding that they prostrate themselves before her.

As she walked, the plants behind her sprouted, grew and waved in the breeze, plants that they had backtracked would have noticed that the flora itself changed depending on location. The ones that were now growing were perfectly suited for the coast, a combination of scraggy little grasses and bushes. Yet at the same time, it did not look uncoordinated, each little growth being placed in such a way that it looked both structured and untamed.

Wild, yet controlled.

Beautiful in other more simple words.

If she stayed in once place for any length of time the plants grew taller, the little patch wider.

The words "Nature Goddess," came unbidden into the minds of those around her. It may have been on purpose but the fact that it was happening at all was interesting to them. After all, this was the Primarch that wanted to deal with them fairly and denied the God Emperor's attempt to have her conquer them by force.

The goodwill of the people was with her and if they could not talk to her personally and give her thanks, they could at least ascribe good thoughts to her.

The way she walked was regal, the way she reacted to the world was the way a Queen would surveying their domain. She was elegance personified, each and every step being one that emphasised her perfection. Her body, clad in a long dress that had a hem that floated above the ground, propped up by the small bushes that sprouted under it. The shimmering effect as it moved over the irregular plant life giving her an almost ephemeral feeling, as if she was not of this world.

The fact that she did not wear shoes only enhanced this feeling, like a nature goddess made into human form. It was beautiful, awe-inspiring.

What was more was the aura that she gave off, that by just being in her presence they felt… better. As if she had some kind of… 'feel good ray'. It was a subconscious effect, one that did not trigger the defensive mechanisms in their minds, it would require a very detailed look into the psychological effect that the Princess had for it to be noticed at all.

For the average citizen, all they knew was that the mere presence of the Princess had an effect on them, as if they were better people by just looking at her. It was disconcerting no doubt for many, yet at the same time, it was liberating. A subtle thing, one that worked itself into their minds, made them… more.

As for the Princess herself, walking down the street was something that she was not really paying attention to. It was the mere act of walking after all and she had done plenty of that in the last few months.

As for the rest of society, the gangs and the PRT, the fact that the Princess was outside was alarming and every one of them was scrambling to have their assets in place. The Princess was outside, she might be dangerous, and it was highly likely that she had a Caretaker with her.

They were to arrive on the scene, attempt to de-escalate anything that might possibly have been escalating and then establish a line of communications with her. She was after all the leader of what looked to be one of the more if not most, dangerous factions in Brockton Bay. Something that had to be considered and adapted to. One could not treat her as if she were some kind of vagrant independent hero, she had to receive the respect her station deserved. Even if she herself did not want it, those below her… were fanatical enough to demand it.

There were 2 aspects of every interaction that needed to be dealt with, that of the Princess herself and that of her Guard. The Princess may be forgiving, but her Guard had shown that they were very much willing to destroy and who might slight their Primarch. It was bad enough that they were willing to shoot men and women belonging to the highest military officials in the US and Canada, it was worse when they had a Vortek warhead primed and ready to launch should she need it.

Being careful was something all of them, Villain or Hero were very interested in. Posting these so the whole Mitchelli being OP and wrecking face fear can be a bit... assuaged... i hope.

Everything was so different. Just.

I don't even know how to describe it properly. Being able to feel more, to see, to hear, to taste. It is like having the lights turned off before, and now the lights are on. It's… so… overwhelming. It is terrifying.

I can see so much further. Just standing here I can see all the way down to where the harbour curves out to the ocean. If I close my eyes I can hear the cars, the trucks, the everything out to the city. My nose can smell the ocean air, the smell of… people ugh. The garbage, the smell of perfume, of fried food, of everything.

It… it's so much to take in. And the people. I can… see the people. I hadn't thought about it before, the way that the soldiers near me have little afterimages sometimes. But these people. They… they have fully different identities, people trapped in them. I… I don't understand. Is it what they want to be doing? Or what they are going to do? I don't even know anymore. Why are they all so different?

"A little disconcerting isn't it?" Mitchelli asks, putting her hands around my shoulder.

"How do you deal with it all?" I ask. It's so much, I don't think I could handle this all day. Being inside the base was actually safer, I didn't need to worry inside. All the air didn't have some kind of taste to it. The sounds were all just… muted. Quiet. Rhythmic. I could get used to it.

But out here, so many different sounds all the time. I… I don't think I could live like this. Every step is one where I'm making sure I don't fall over. There is just too much around me. I don't think I can handle this. Just one step at a time.

Carefully.

"Takes a little training but it's perfectly doable. It's a little worse since you are a Primarch, but nothing that can't be worked out. We'll get started on it when we get back to the base alright?"

"Ok," I reply, trying to avoid the sun. so bright. Everything so bright.

There.

To the left. It… it's a child. A toddler. Sadness. I can feel the sadness. So much of it.

I try to stop myself but it's too much I can't help it. There just so much… sadness. I walk over the child, everything is focused on him. I can't see or hear anything else. Just walking to him.

There. He's right in front of me.

"Hello there. What's wrong?" I say. It doesn't sound like me like it's an older more mature me that's speaking. One that sound just a little like mom. I kneel down and I… I have to touch him. It will help, I don't know how but it will help.

I cup his cheek and I can feel it. His loss. His pain. It is a trivial matter bit for a child, it is as if the entire world had ended. His balloon, his new favouritist balloon had been blown away, he had let go for just a second and the breeze had taken it up into the sky, far far away. So far that even mummy, as awesome as she was couldn't grab it in time.

It was so little. But it's so much. I can make it better, I just need to tweak it a little. Just make the pain a little less, just change a little memory, just make him… happier. Yes. Get rid of the bad, bring in the good.

I hold up my left hand, palm up, open a Warp Portal in front of the balloon and one above my hand. As it comes out of the portal, the look on his face is all the reward that I need. He looks so happy, he feels so happy.

I smile. He smiles. We all smile.

"Hold it tighter next time ok? Sometimes things fly away if we let go." I say. What the fuck Taylor, where did that come from?

I stand up and turn to walk back before I feel like me again…

Oh shit. Holy shit. Did. Did I just. I just altered his memories. Oh god. I… oh god.

Princess are you okay?

Woah. Mitchelli can do the mind talk too? That's cool, not distract me from the fact I just screwed with a kid's mind, but cool.

I… I don't know. It… I just changed his memories. I don't. Why? Why did I do that?

She tugs me a little with her arm so she can hold me closer.

It's an ability that most psykers have little Prim. Controlling the minds of others is a little difficult, but altering their memories so that they are perfectly loyal, to begin with is not difficult. What is strange is how easy it was for you the first time that you did it. Assuming that is your first time?

I can feel the eyebrow raise through our connection.

Yes. It was the first. I only got my powers last week you know.

She grins and lets me walk on the wooden slats of the Boardwalk on my own two feet.

Well it looked like your power is so great that it wants you to use it. We're going to need to work on getting you to control yourself better. If you use your powers at all times, it will be difficult for you to control the impulse when it's important.

She has a gold point. But if they just happen without me knowing it… I don't know how I can control them. But if she says she can help… them I can trust her. It isn't like she's lied to me yet. Straight up told me that she would consider telling me but never lying.

Ok. Thanks.

I don't know what else I can say. She's just top perfect. When it came to doing things. She has no idea how fashion works which doesn't make any sense, she's like 10,000 years old, how does she not know? Then there are the times dad came to talk after work and we're sparring and she acts like it's nothing and just talks to him casually. How does she do that? It's so unfair.

It's what I'm here for little Prim. Heads up little Prim we've got visitors.

What. Oh right heads up. I look up aaaand is that Glory Girl? Gold. Shining. Yeah. That's Glory Girl. Then there's the little white robed one. Panacea? What are they doing here?

"Hey there. Princess right?" She asks.

"I'm Glory Girl and this is my sister, Panacea." She holds out her hand for a handshake? Just… what? Are we like 50 or something?

Still, it would be rude if I let her down, probably feel bad too. Like when Emma let me go and turned on me.

Princess, now would be a good time to get those emotions under control.

What. Oh no. This is so embarrassing. There are those little rock things coming up around me. Oh no calm Taylor. Calm. You don't want to make a rock sculpture in the middle of the city. That would be bad. Very bad. Ok. Deep breaths. Calm down. Ok. Calm. Purge the bad thoughts. Yes

"The Princess is still getting used to her power. Stand back of you don't want to get turned inside out." Mitchelli says and I try to hold back a giggle. I can't do that… or can I?

The two of them get back a little but Panacea looks like she wants to come closer.

"I can help her?" She says. I look at her and oh. Oh. That… that is so much more than a child should be hurting. It's not some momentary hurt that will fade away like with the boy, hers is a chronic hurt. A hurt that just won't go away. I… I have to help her. But that would mean messing with her mind. But… but she needed it.

It's consuming her. I. I have to help. I just can't let her be like this. It… it would kill her. I just can't.

Prim? Now is not the time. Pull it back.

Ohhhh. Ok. Taylor had the helm. Oh wow. I really need to work on getting that under control.

"What would your help consist of." Asked Mitchelli, looking at Panacea out of the corner of my eye. I want to tell her that this is Panacea she's like the ultimate nice person. She can be trusted.

"I just need to touch her and I can tell what is wrong." She replies, looking a little tired.

Of course, she is. I would be too if I was living like her. I… just need to touch her a little and I can help. Just a little.

"Denied."

What.

Why? That's Panacea. She's like the best healer in the world. She won't try to hurt me.

I say, trying to get through to Mitchelli. Just a straight denied? No reason?

It is not her trustworthiness I worry about little Prim. What do you see when you touch someone little Prim?

That's a stupid question. I see… oh. Oh.

Everything.

I can see all of their body, now and in the past, every single little bit of it.

Yes. Everything. If she tries to remake your body into something else… what do you think would happen?

How should I know that?

She would just make a clone of me?

I ask, trying to convey my confusion.

No. The thing that you need to understand Prim is that half of your ability is your soul. So if someone were to copy your body without a soul, it will create a body that not have anything to make sure that it is developing properly, the soul is the blueprint for the power after all. So you will have a body that is going to mutate wildly out of control, unable to develop properly, unable to control the power inside of it. And if the bio-psyker gives it a brain? It would go insane in a matter of minutes can you imagine something of your power rampaging through the city?

I feel horror at the question. But… that wouldn't happen, right? She's Panacea, why would she do something like that?

That isn't possible, she's too nice for that. She doesn't do brains anyway.

I try to send my indignation out.

Really? What if someone were to hold a gun to her sister's head? What if someone were to implant a brain into the finished body?

She… she might.

Remember, you are a Primarch now. There is more resting upon your shoulders than just one life. Your actions, deliberate or by accident have effects beyond what you think could be possible. I know it is difficult to grasp right now, we'll have to teach you about that as well then.

More lessons. So maaany lessons. How many lessons do I need to go through. Nooooo. Save me. Maybe I could like escape to space? Yes. Taylor that is a great idea. Let's do that. First I need to learn how to breathe in a vacuum, then I need to be able to fly, but that is nothing. Totally worth it. Totally.

Back with us here Prim, need you coherent.

What. Oh right.

"Why not?" Says Glory Girl, she looks rather annoyed actually. Our mental conversation must have been faster than what we thought.

"Her close contact with the Primarch is a danger to her. Knowledge of the Primarch's body is dangerous."

"She's my sister, she's not going to do anything!"

"Not even if they were to threaten her family? How many do you think would kill for the chance at a Primarch's body to do their bidding? Could she resist?"

"I… I don't know." Mutters Glory Girl. "I… I… Why did you blow up Winslow!?" She shouts, trying to change the… wait.

What?

Blow up Winslow High?

What?

When?

How?

"Blow up Winslow?" I ask, a little confused to Mitchelli.

"You forget I have been here for less than a week Princess. Sergeant!" She calls out, her words destined for our escort.

"Yes, my Lady." Says the man at the front of our little procession, turning to face us.

"What is this I hear about the destruction of a Winslow?"

"Permission to offer conjecture my Lady." He says, standing at attention.

"Permission granted."

"Thank you, ma'am. Rumour has it that the Primarch was found near death in a torture facility in the city. The retrieval team destroyed the facility to prevent further casualties. End of conjecture ma'am."

"A torture facility? Well, the people of this planet are more deviant than I had thought. Something to consider then for the future." Mitchelli said, her pose considering.

Ummm… should I correct this misunderstanding? It is rather funny…

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Nov 22, 2016

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George12

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Nov 22, 2016

#171

"Winslow isn't a torture facility. It is a school." I say, giggling a little. Which I shouldn't. Somebody blew up Winslow?

…

Was it the Catachans? It was probably the Catachans. Dammit.

"A school? A Schola? This is something to be concerned with is it not? Destruction of Scholas are something to be avoided for the future education and safety of students." Mitchelli said, sounding so… serious. She really is serious about keeping schools intact, isn't she?

"Well if the Catachans did it then they likely had a good reason for it. They aren't the kind to go around being so loud for no reason." She said continuing on a little. Sounding a little worried. "Are we sure that they did it?"

"Negative ma'am, merely conjecture. The Catachans refuse to confirm or deny." Said the Sergeant, still standing at attention.

"Hmmm. Worrying. Are well we will have to get to the bottom of this another time. We cannot have the Guard be uncontrolled in the manner that they use their weaponry. We will have enough of a problem trying to convince the mortals that they are better off surrendering." Mitchelli was monologuing now.

I hadn't heard her be like this before. She must be really serious about this idea huh?

I poke her a little. Got to get her back on track.

"Hmm. Ah yes, I forget that you mortals are not quite advanced enough to understand the benefits of being in the Imperium, even if you fully grasp the downsides." She said.

"What do you mean by that? What are you even talking about?"

"I am a Space Marine child, my senses are akin to those of a God compared to that of you mortals. I can hear the conversations in the background, the baseless conjecture. You need not be afraid, I will not judge you for them. I have heard more and worse. Regardless we must move on. There is no doubt much we have yet to see and I wish to see." She rambled on for a bit… which was kind of worrying.

Is this what they meant when Black said that Caretakers go insane as they get older? Because it really seems like she is getting… different. Maybe she's better when there isn't so much stuff around?

"Oh… do you guys mind if we tag along then?" Asked Glory Girl, sounding a little put out. She probably had more questions to ask.

"No, please. You may fly in front of us, if there is an ambush you may have the honour of triggering it." Mitchelli said, sounding regal. Like a queen bee talking to the suicide troopers she was about to send out.

"I… ambush?"

"Yes, ambush. Do you not go to this Scola? Ah. I see. It has been destroyed and in the meantime, your mind has reverted back to its initial state. This is to be expected, you are young and your mind is malleable. You must educate yourself outside of the classroom child, one may never know when it is that they are to be tested." Mitchelli sounded really wise. Very different from when she was talking to me. Is she doing this on purpose?

"I know what an ambush is! Why are you afraid of one?" Glory Girl sounds a bit impatient, maybe being near Mitchelli was taking its toll.

"We are to leave and we are to see the world, there are enemies, they would not like us to see the world and so they seek to attack us. Hence, an ambush." She said... perfectly seriously. I... There might be some truth to the whole insane thing.

I look around and the Praetorian Guard have set up a rough circle of sorts where there aren't any civilians allowed in.

It's kind of cool, like I'm a VIP or something.

"You will not be going anywhere." Comes a voice. A really deep growly voice. I don't… Oh. Is that Lung? Oh wow. Am I supposed to fight him now? I'm not ready for this. Oh God, what am I supposed to do?

"Why not?" Asks Mitchelli.

"She is to fight the Endbringers is she? She is small. She is weak. I shall test her."

"Hmmm. Ok. We can do that, just no trying to kill her, or I am going to be very annoyed. You don't want me to be annoyed." She continued, staring at Lung.

"Yes. We will not try to kill one another, peace." He said, much more peacefully than I would have thought a giant dragon man would be like. He's… far more reasonable than the stories make him out to be.

And… and I have to fight him? I… I don't want to do this. I…

I'm scared.

Keep calm little Prim. If things go really badly then I'll step in and help you. Just remember what you've learnt, keep your feet right, and try not to overextend. Trust in your training, trust in your body. I've got your back little Prim.

Ok. That… that is marginally better. Ok. I can do this. I can do her proud. I… I just need to take a breath. Right. A Breath. Just.

Ok. Let's… let's go.

"There's civilians in the area, let's take it out onto the beach ok?" Mitchelli said, leading the way to the beach, I follow and Lung does as well.

It… it's just what am I supposed to do here? Just punching him? What if he uses his powers? If I throw him into the Warp wouldn't that kill him? I… I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. What if I change his mind to make him more peaceful? But isn't that brainwashing? Like really bad? I… I don't know. I'm scared. So very scared and I don't think there is going to be anyone to get me out of this one.

But I'm Taylor Hebert, I'm a Primarch now. I… I have to do this. If I want to save the world, I have to do this. I… I just don't know if I can.

No.

No dammit Taylor, just trust your training. Sergeant Black and Mitchelli have been training you for weeks, you need to learn, this is your trial by fire. Just. Just remember what you need to do and fight.

I look up and I see Mitchelli motioning for me to stand on the other side of the little ring that she's carved out on the sand.

"Remember no powers, that includes you too Princess, don't kill him." She says to me, raising her eyebrow as she does. I nod back to her. I don't trust my voice right now.

"No deaths, no maiming wounds, no permanent wounds. Do you both agree to this?" She asked, stepping back so that she was outside of the ring. It was about 10 meters in diameter, enough space for us to move around in.

As for Lung, he was standing on the opposite side, head cocked to one angle looking down at me. He was big. Maybe he was already ramping up.

Okay, Taylor. Remember what you've learnt. Remember your posture. Remember your strikes.

Now's the time Taylor, no more standing around. No more waiting.

Ok.

Breathe In.

Hold.

Hold.

Breathe Out.

Let's go.

"I am Captain Mitchelli of the Sojourners, I will be officiating this match between the challenger known as Lung, and the Princess, the 39th Primarch. The rules of this engagement shall be that there will be no death, no permanent injuries mental or physical, and no powers. I shall only intervene should the above come to be true, so I swear upon the Beacon. You may begin on the count of 3."

Stepping outside the ring, Mitchelli looks at the both of us and nods.

"One."

I breathe in again. Ok. Close your eyes. Just… center. Just… remember your training.

"Two."

Hold it in. Lung is probably going to use his fists, longer reach than I have. Go for the underbelly, go for the side strikes. Go for the flanks. I… No. I need to do this. Keep close, hug him and duck under his punches. He's big, he's strong, he's going to be slow… or at least slower. Ok.

"Three."

Breathe out. Open eyes, and he's diving for me. Fist out. Ok. I can do this.

Mitchelli watched the fight with interest. It was the first proper fight that the infant Primarch had engaged in, or at least the first one where both sides were attempting to defeat the other in a ring of battle, instead of a spar where safety was the first concern.

This Lung was capable, she could see that. Not quite at the level of a Space Marine, more akin to that of a Catachan. Yet he was also increasing in power as he fought, his body visibly getting bigger. Something that it looked like he was struggling to contain. His power perhaps? An involuntary one it looked like, or at least difficult to control.

As for little Prim, she was preparing herself, getting ready for a proper fight and Mitchelli tried to keep the grin off her face. She looked like she was being sentenced to death, poor thing probably never had a proper fight before against someone she knew was trying to hurt her, unlike the gentle sparring that Mitchelli and the Sergeant before her did.

It was… almost rather sad actually to watch her tense up. She hadn't had a good life before now, had she? If she was showing this much fear regarding this one fight. It would have to change, she was a Primarch now and all of them were capable of fighting. It was only the oldest ones and a tiny few of the clones that bothered to learn how to fight properly and of those a few had not fought at the head of an army for a few thousand years now.

One powerful general at the head of an army was not worth the same as millions of smaller but more widely spread units coordinating to achieve their objective. As for Mitchelli, she had only her sword, only her goals, only her mission. She could focus on fighting, on killing. Likely why she had been able to fight the Primarchs so evenly, they were rusty after all while she was honed like a Power Sword.

As for that one time she defeated Angron? He was at half strength from the effect of the suppression aura her brothers and sisters were employing. They had to buy time while it was being set up, a mini-Beacon in essence and nearly 4000 of her Brothers and Sisters had sold their lives to prevent him from breaching their lines. She was merely the last of them, the last one who was fortunate enough to have the suppression field activate in time for her fight. The entire crusade had ground to a halt with his presence, tens of thousands of guardsmen, tanks, titans, all crushed before he was stopped.

Even then it had been a close thing, too many thousands of times when her life was about to be lost, for a Brother or Sister to throw themselves at him and buy her needed time and space, dying as they did so. She wasn't as great as the legends made her out to be that that wasn't important. What was important was the hope she offered by being alive. When they spoke of her it was with hope, that perhaps there was something that could survive in future that was the Imperium and little girls strived to be like her.

Her legend might be false, but it was also true, the popular figure that was her was powerful, the reality, not so much.

As Mitchelli called out the countdown she was tensing herself, ready to intervene at the slightest moment. Sure she was not as great as her tale was, but she was still a Space Marine. If this Lung showed any signs of lethal hostility, she would be between him and the Princess in a heartbeat.

If he dared to injure her ward, his life was forfeit.

As the countdown reached 0 and the Princess stood at a guard position, clearly trying to go for the counterattack, Mitchelli allowed herself to smile. Little Prim's fighting style represented her so much that it was uncanny, defensive, always ready to run. Something that she would be changing, if only that she couldn't show weakness in front of her Legion, assuming she wanted one.

Her natural gait and style was beautiful to watch, but that was her Primarch self in action, not because she herself was those things. What was subconscious would need to be made one with the conscious self, the inner Primarch was strong, she just needed to convince the outer one.

Something that was eminently possible, she was Mitchelli after all and she had seen many thousands of students in her time as a Sojourner. For someone of her age, dispensing knowledge was just as valuable as being on the frontline.

As she watched the fight, Mitchelli prepared for her Primarch a critique and a list of exercises for the Primarch, she was displaying far too many weaknesses and openings. To be expected, of course, this was her first real fight and emotions were running high, something else to worry about.

Last edited: Nov 22, 2016

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Nov 22, 2016

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Nov 22, 2016

#172

Panacea was still worrying over the refusal of the woman to have her touch them, a concern that she didn't quite understand. It wasn't like they were that different, they were still human, weren't they? If she touched them wouldn't it have the same effect as touching a normal human?

Then it looked like they were the ones that had destroyed Winslow, and then it looked like they were a little strange. The way the bigger one was picking a fight with her sister had been rather strange, but it didn't seem malicious at all, she looked like she was genuinely offering advice. Which… pricked her sister the wrong way. Victoria was many things, humble was not one of them and being told that she was… bad at something was not the way you should talk to her.

Then Lung had chosen to pick a fight with this Princess and strangely enough her bodyguard allowed it. Taking them both out near the water, away from the crowds, she had sketched a circle and had them fight it out in the middle of it.

And what a fight it was. She wasn't sure as to the exact specifics of it, but she did know what she was watching was very cool and awesome. The way the smaller figure of the Princess darted in and landed punches that Panacea could hear from all the way over here, to when Lung managed a hit on the Princess despite her speed. The smaller girl would always block, be sent backwards and sometimes even tumble over, still managing to look graceful while she did it.

Like a David and Goliath situation, only they were both Brutes and likely had regeneration as well if the Princess' ability to stand up and rush right back in afterwards was any indication. Using her legs to sweep in, diving, punching, kicking, all of her ability to hit out at Lung, but avoiding his head from what she could see. Avoiding trying to kill him perhaps?

Oh. Look at that, Lung had gone for a sweeping punch to the left, only for the Princess to dart into it, shoulder into the elbow, knocking Lung off balance, and a kick to the side that sent him out of the arena. That must have hurt, in fact, it did. Panacea could hear the shattering of his ribs from all the way out here.

Looking around Panacea could see the other members of the crowd, there being no apparent attempt at evacuating the area. Just standing and watching the fight between the Princess and Lung. A Princess that had apparently knocked Lung out of the ring, that was rather cool. Sure he wasn't ramped up, but he was giving his all in the fist fight and that counted for something right?

As for the Princess' powers… well, Panacea felt better than she had in a very long time. No doubt caused by that enormous flower above her head. The golden one that had pollen that just made you feel better when it landed. She could get used to this. She didn't know why, but in the middle of the fight, the Princess had sprouted an… ephemeral flower that was floating over her head, dispersing spores to the crowd around them. When the first of them had touched her skin… she had felt better than she did in a long time, just relaxed, soothed. Master Stranger protocols for all the Wards overhead she could tell.

She wasn't quite doing anything right now, just watching Lung shout for a rematch and the bodyguard agreeing to it. The Princess slumped her shoulders over, something that could be seen from here, causing Panacea to giggle slightly.

Panacea was rather worried actually, wasn't the Princess really strong? She had heard that the new Cape was the one that was turning the entire city upside down. The way her armies had set themselves up at the docks, prevented the gangs from receiving their drugs and their shipments, the way she completely changed the landscape of the city.

Or at least that was what Panacea had heard. For her, she had other concerns. For Panacea, the way she learnt about the outside world was to have it come to her. Inside the hospital where the murmurs of the patients told of the general status of the city of Brockton, she had heard nothing. Something that itself was a worry, a very large worry actually.

Usually, a lull in the conversation, a lull in the casualties, a lull in the death count meant that something was coming. Something that Panacea was feeling the stress from despite the fact that it was still far away.

The number of gang members, ABB and e88 had decreased to almost none. Those that had arrived were wounded because of their own stupidity rather than because they had been in combat. Their wounds being simple matters such as having broken legs, broken arms, broken heads (which may have been present already), all the result of typical male testosterone and insanity.

Which itself meant that the gangs had stopped their conflicts, had stopped fighting, had stopped posturing. They were waiting now, conserving their strength. It was something that was terrifying for both her and for the city. The longer the wait, the more the pent up aggression would be for the gangers themselves. The more the pent up aggression, the worst the eventual outburst would be for them and for the civilians around them.

What that meant would be a higher number of casualties, casualties that in turn would be heading her way. Their wounds would be worse than previously, broken bones, shattered limbs, shredded flesh as standard, puncture wounds, bullets, internal damage and more would be present as well. In turn that meant that the hospital staff and herself would be run off their feet, rushing back and forth, trying to find something anything that could stem the bleeding. The casualties would be horrendous and Panacea was just 1 person in one hospital.

The feeling in the air at the hospital as it was, was one of apprehension and fear. She could feel it, all of them could feel it. There was no getting away from it. The only reason that she was here in the first place was because the hospital had no more patients in need of her attention. Many potential patients instead deciding that being at home was preferable than to being outside. Even if that meant they had to suffer the indignity of their wounds for longer.

As for Panacea herself she felt the usual blossoming of guilt inside her gut, the feeling that she could be helping, that she was not helping enough. It was a feeling that ate away at her, that begged to be let out, to have her go and do what she could to assist those that needed it. A feeling that was not going away, like an addiction that ate away at her.

She knew, she could see the effects of addiction in gory detail every time she touched someone, every time she got a comprehensive detail of their body in real time. She could feel the same effect in herself even if she couldn't see it. The craving for a hit, the tiny absolution and then the cravings would begin again, eating her from the inside out.

She needed to treat herself better, she knew that but it was far too difficult to justify it, to say that she should go cold turkey. It was not drugs after all that she was doing, but healing, helping, saving. She was but one tiny insignificant being in the ocean of suffering that was Brockton Bay and the rest of the world. What was she that she could gain a reprieve while everyone else was forced to endure suffering, agony, death?

As Panacea was locked in her thoughts, the panic and the fear that would have seen her run from the area had leeched out. The Princess' ability had calmed her down and calmed down everyone else. Lung was still fighting, but it was far away enough that there was no real fear from those that were watching. Instead, it was a morbid sort of satisfaction, being able to see a Cape fight in real life without having to risk their lives.

The bodyguard had likely convinced Lung from fighting with his powers, keeping him away from the civilians. As for Panacea she… she felt guilt. Guilt that she was hoping that some of them would be injured, that she would be able to find absolution and heal, save, assist. It was… worrying. She knew it was worrying and likely everyone else did as well. She wanted people to be hurt so she could play God? That was not how it should be, but it defined her now.

What was she? Amy Dalton or Panacea? Both identities had melded together and she felt as if she did not know who she was any longer. So much of her life consumed by an all encompassing desire to heal… to use her power. It would be so easy to not only heal… but to create. To transform, to make perfect. So easy, yet so very horrifying. She knew that she could do it, that it would be just as easily done as a healing, yet she craved it, every time she laid hands on someone that the knowledge she could remake them, to make them better, stronger, all in her mind, all begging for an outlet.

It was into this maelstrom of thought and fear that Panacea was about to dive into once again before a shout broke her out of her fugue.

"Panacea! Come with me! We need to get out of the area!" Came the shout, dull at first, sharpening as Panacea returned to the present, her face bewildered.

"What?"

"We need to get out of here! It's too dangerous and the other gangs might be coming. Get in!" Came the voice again. Who was that? Oh, wait. It was the Princess. Why was she here? Wasn't she fighting with Lung? Wasn't she meant to be all the way over there on the beach?

Panacea blinked and stared at what was a… tank. A very big tank. Its rear hatches were open and the Princess was inside, her hand extended outward. Panacea didn't know what was going on, but she was probably going to need to get inside, her sister was… flying overhead with the Wards and… talking to them. She could shout out for attention, but would she come down? There was Gallant there.

She debated with herself for a moment, if she stayed the possibility was real that another gang might attempt to take out a tired Princess or Lung. At the same time, the PRT would be on the scene soon… which might actually escalate the situation. It… she didn't know what she was supposed to do in this situation.

The decision was taken out of her hands when the Princess got out of the tank, picked her up and dragged her inside. Oh.

Oh.

Oh, what the fuck? What the actual fuck?

Panacea could see the insides of the Princess, only… only she should not be alive. She should not even exist. Everything about her was… wrong. As if half of her body was missing, cells not having vital components, her DNA being… fragmented, parts of it simply not there at all. The energy production of her body was several times that of what should be possible with her cellular structure.

It was a body that was a paradox, something that was not possible. Not should not be possible, but was quite literally not possible. Every single part of it, if Panacea copied it across would simply fall apart and the body just die. Her brain… oh, what the fuck is that. There was no Corona Pollentia, she was a pure human… or she should? She didn't even have half of her brain, as in quite literally like her cells and DNA, there were pieces of it that simply did not exist. But the cells and the brain did not collapse in on themselves, rather it was like there was some kind of force that kept them in the "proper" shape, or… something.

It was terrifying. If this was the Princess, what the fuck was going on with the rest of her people? Were they all mentally damaged? Her emotional processing unit just… was not right. It was… a receptacle, for something. Something that was very clearly not inside the body.

Everything about it screamed dangerous. Were all of them mentally damaged? Were all of them monsters of some kind? A mass Case53 situation?

What was going on?

"The Sergeant just heard that there is a convoy vehicles coming into the area, not Protectorate either, they're a bit further out. Just sit in here and it will be fine, I'll keep you safe."

That explained part of it, just not the bit about her not even being human.

Panacea wanted to ask, but maybe that was why she had been denied access to her in the first place. Asking might just get her killed, better to just not say anything at all.

But… they were taking her somewhere and that was not good at all. Maybe she should have waited outside for her sister.

Woops?

88

George12

Nov 22, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 20

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 23, 2016

#183

Tim was a… humble man. He was the kind of man that was forgettable. Place him in the middle of a few other Catachans and he would fade from the memories just like he could fade into the shadows.

Place him next to a single Catachan and he would be remembered as "the other guy", place him alone and he would be considered "the tall guy" and if it was with other Catachans "the short guy". In short, Tim was the kind of guy that was forgettable.

A pain in his social life, a boon in his line of work.

Tim was a Catachan after all, what was more was that he was a "small" Catachan. Which in turn meant that he was by default decision chosen as the stealth operative of the Regiment. Him and a few other "shorties" as it were. He wasn't sure as to what it was he was supposed to be doing for a large part of it, spending most of his time just making sure he was quiet and working off what the other Catachans were already doing.

He was a Catachan after all and they were already very sneaky, the kind of sneaky that let them sneak up behind a Chaos Space Marine and shove a very long and very sharp knife into the poor bastard's throat before angling it downward and making a mess of their internal organs.

He was unsure as to why he was the stealth specialist until it dawned on him that it was a practical joke. He had been rather annoyed at that, especially given the amount of effort that had gone into it. He would have given up on it entirely and returned to being just another Catachan, albeit a rather forgettable Catachan when he came to the attention of a Space Wolf Scout.

The Space Marine had seen his attempts and found him to be interesting enough to offer to teach him. They were on campaign in the jungles at the time and he had accepted, thinking there was very little that the Space Marine could actually teach. It was the Jungle after all and trying to teach a Catachan to sneak in the Jungle was the same as asking a Hiver to navigate while blind.

Still, it had been a bit of a lark and he wondered if the Space Marine was pulling his leg.

That thought had lasted until his first lesson. The both of them sneaking up on an Ork encampment and the number of times that he had lost the Space Wolf was ridiculous. It should not have been possible, the man was born on an ice planet for Emperor's sake. How was it he could do so well in the jungle?

What had happened next demonstrated to him that he was not as good as he had thought he was. The Space Wolf had slaughtered the entire Ork camp on his own, his blade cutting the throats of dozens of Orks without any of them every noticing that he was present.

Then came the next mission, finding information. The scout had snuck into the tent of the Boss Warlord, right into the middle of a meeting with numerous Nobz, with dozens of boyz, mechboyz and doks. And he had not been discovered, coming out later with all the intelligence they could ever want.

It had opened Tim's eyes and he had taken the idea of an apprenticeship so much more seriously.

And so it was for the next 5 years that Tim left the Catachans temporarily, learning at the feet of one of the greatest Space Marine Scouts in existence. They were the Space Wolves, after all, only the experienced and those that desired it could become scouts. Not the youngest and those with the least experience. It made very little sense in Tim's opinion and he had a very poor opinion when it came to the typical Space Marine scouts.

They were incapable of basic stealth work, relying on their superhuman physiques to tentatively peek at the enemy, unable to do much more than that. But Ulric, well he was something else entirely.

Tim had learnt, Tim had applied, Tim had graduated.

Upon the end of his apprenticeship, he rejoined his Regiment and Tim had been in his element. What had been a farcical position was now something that was accepted by all of them. His role at the point of every advance, sneaking forward to gather information, to get rid of those that might prove troublesome and more. He was the tip of the spear and he liked it that way.

As of right now, he was in the middle of what one might call an "in-depth reconnaissance", delving deep into enemy territory, out on his own without any means of support or assistance in the case that he was caught. Just the way he liked it.

The target of this mission being the gang that called themselves the Empire 88, targets for elimination. They had proven themselves to be incompatible with the ideal future that the Princess so desired and so they must be dealt with. The most important targets for consideration was the one known as Hookwolf and Kaiser. Hookwolf had an ability to turn himself into blade, something that would allow him to survive an attack that was not supported by something on the scale of a squad.

He would be an effective skirmisher that may prove to be detrimental to the continued conquest of the city, an obstacle to be annihilated. As for Kaiser, he was the leadership, he was the one that held it all together. Remove him and it would topple in on itself. Or so was the supposition, Tim had not seen anything that might indicate differently. The various factions within the Empire were far too disparate, none of them possessing the ability to unite that Kaiser did. With him gone the Empire would be leadership and weak.

The command team had denied Tim to reap the Empire leadership, something about it sending the wrong message. It would be best they said if he engaged and destroyed them in the open, to send a clear and strong message. One of dominance and force was much better for the purposes of the Imperium than a message of fear and subterfuge.

It was not perhaps the greatest news that Tim had heard but he was a good soldier. If high command wanted to do it that way, he would do all he could to assist, even if he thought it was stupid and was going to cost lives. It wasn't his place to be concerned, even if he really wanted to.

Tim shook his head, he was currently above the Empire's meeting. Them deciding on a course of action with regards to the Princess. Command had said that if they were to be stupid enough decide to attack, he would have free reign. If they were not, however, he was to wait, to watch, and to deliver the messages that needed delivering.

As it was he was waiting, not what he wanted out of life but it was what he got.

Tim gave a mental sigh, it hadn't even been difficult to break in. Just a quick scaling of the wall while dodging the guards, hammering out a few of the bricks on the walls, crawling his way in and then making his way through the crawlspace and into the meeting. He had been able to make his way in uncontested and it was likely he was going to leave the same way. It was disappointing really, even cultists proved to be better when it came to security compared to these gang members.

They prided themselves on their discipline and their regimented training, yet when it came down to it, they were no better than some Planetary Defence Forces.

Weak.

Tim had expected a challenge, he had expected to face opposition, to be unable to sneak in, unable to even find enjoyment in shattering their illusions of security.

Tim watched and he waited. Another meeting, another meeting where nothing was achieved, where the leadership bickered and there was no discernable change. It was disappointing and also rather pathetic. If this had been the regiment, the Colonel would have already beaten down those who opposed him before moving on with the mission.

If it had been another regiment the Commissar would have shot the dissenters and they could have moved on with their lives, completed the mission and returned. Instead, they debated about whether or not they should stay in the city, whether they should try and attack those in the Docks, whether or not they should keep doing what they were doing, whether or not they should hide.

Everything and nothing, all of it worthless, all of it pointless. They were facing the Imperium, they would be crushed regardless of whatever option they chose. There would be no forgiveness, the Imperium did not forget, nor did it forget. There would be nothing but death for those that opposed the Imperium.

For those that betrayed humanity, there was but one path left for them. Death. Whether it be by the firing squad or their own hand, the Imperium would pursue them for all eternity and they would die from the weight of their crimes.

As for the other gangs in the city, they would be given the option to either surrender or to die. The ABB as it was called was slated for potential execution, their leadership had decided to prey upon the weak and the wounded, to take those that needed their assistance and turn them into nothing more than slaves. They too would die. There would be no forgiveness for they who preyed upon the weak. A hypocritical thought to be sure given what went on in the Imperium at large, but they were the Regiments and they couldn't be everywhere at once. If they found it, it would be purged, if they did not, there was nothing that could be done regardless.

For the other gangs, or smaller criminal groups that all puttered around and were largely inoffensive. They would be given the opportunity to lay down their arms and surrender, or they would die. At the very least they would be given a choice, the Princess had been adamant on that.

Tim continued his vigil as he stared down at the gang. The way they all refused to accept one or another option in dealing with the future, saw them fail to understand what it was exactly that was being arrayed against them. They who thought they would be able to simply continue as they were and survive? They would die.

As for Kaiser, his control was fading, the others were much more outspoken and they were all vying for positions of power. As for Tim, he smiled and enjoyed the show below. It reminded him of what happened whenever a Chaos Warband replaced their leadership, first came the accusations, the refusals to work together, next came the anger, then came the challenge backed by those who had felt wronged. And then, when the hour was nigh. The head of the previous leader would decorate the front gates of the camp.

It was happening now and Tim grinned, it was as if they wanted to make things as easy as possible for the Princess' Guard to destroy them. They who had no coherency, no strength would die all the faster. The Catachans thrived when culling a fragmented and weak opposition, one that would fall beneath their knives. Unaware that death was coming they would mill about like Grox herds, unable to comprehend that they were now dead, and what was more, there was no escape.

Tim crawled out, it looked as if there was one who had given up and decided to wash her hands of the Empire entirely. Tim considered following her, it would be particularly important to understand where it was that she lived before continuing on. Allowing one of them to escape was entirely unacceptable for Tim who prided himself on his professionalism.

Her name was Purity, something that Tim found amusing. They who had betrayed humanity dared to consider using the name Pure? Unforgivable. They would face the wrath of the Imperium if it was the last thing he did.

As he crawled his way out of the building, it was a rather simple matter for him to chase after the vehicle that she was using. Simply running on the rooftops and trailing her back to her home. Another target to add to the list.

79

George12

Nov 23, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 21

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 23, 2016

#184

Geraldine P. Duncan sat inside the cockpit of her Leo Mobile Suit. She was… relaxing.

It was hard to explain to those that had never been inside one, or even to those that had been inside but not pilots, but the feeling was like… being in a womb. A place where she knew that she was safe (or rather was marginally safe), where there was nothing that could touch her. Her personal little haven away from the world. A place where she could sit from high and deliver death with impunity.

That had something to do with it as well she was sure. The way that the suit was just so… powerful.

There was no way to explain it to someone that had not been inside of one, ridden it, used it to crush the enemies of the Imperium, literally and figuratively. Many times she had decided that there was no need to waste ammunition on some insurgents and had decided to step on them instead, turning them to mush beneath her armoured, 7 tonne foot. They had not deserved a proper death, they had rebelled and so they would die.

Other times she had decided to shoot at them with her Vulcan Heavy Bolters embedded in the collar, sweeping them with little (from her perspective) explosions that tore the poor unfortunates (that had decided that it would be a good idea to oppose the Imperium in the first place) to little pieces. Other times she had used her Lancer, the upscaled Lascannon that the Leo came with as standard to just… vaporise anything that got in her way.

It being big enough to punch holes in almost anything that was smaller than the Leo was and some things that were bigger (also weren't in possession of void shields), Ork Gargants for example, those fucking things were just walking targets for something as mobile as a Leo. Not as mobile as the Virgos that the Space Marines used, but Geraldine would take her Leo over some bulky and ugly Virgo and day of the week, and maybe even the weekends as well.

The entire Walker was powered by an atomic reactor embedded right behind her cockpit. If it was breached, she would have likely have died already so that wasn't much of a concern really. That and it was needed for the Leo's personal melee weapon. It was a pair of beamsabers, a technology whose design had been lost in the dark age of technology. The Mechanicus was only able to replicate the designs, not to improve or to iterate on them, something that no doubt frustrated those in charge of the Astra Militarum. Personal beam sabres for their infantry would make combating the Ruinous Powers and… every other threat the Imperium faced that much more easy, the high intensity plasma blade burning and melting anything in its path.

Geraldine had been born to a poor family, like literally every family that wasn't a noble on Praetoria. A family that worked, their hands turning the manufactorums that produced the Lasguns, the Flak Vests, the Uniforms, the vehicles, all the odds and ends that the Imperium so desperately needed. The entire planet being filled with hands so having sufficient labour was never an issue that had to be considered.

Geraldine would have taken her mother's place at the needler station, stitching the vests together, every single day of her life spent stitching, sewing, making herself miserable, doing the same thing over and over again. It was a life that she had known was not for her, no, hers was a life outside of Praetoria, a life outside of the cramped confines of the Hive World.

To escape that she had run away, run to the only way that she knew would offer her a way off world, the nearest Astra Militarum Recruiting Station. What had happened next was 6 months of the most pain she had ever been in, training, drilling, fighting, hurting, all of it to prepare her for her position in the Imperial Guard where only the fittest, that hardest, the strongest would be accepted.

Only it hadn't ended up like that, for Praetoria also produced Mobile Suits, or at least it fed the materials to the Manufactorums that produced the Mobile Suits, allowing the Regiments raised upon it to have their own squadrons of the walkers. In turn, that meant that Geraldine had been tested and her mind was found to be highly compatible with that of the Machine Spirit that inhabited the Mobile Suits.

So it had eventuated that Geraldine had been assigned to a Mobile Suit and it had accompanied her throughout her decades of service. It offered comfort in the times that she had been homesick for the cramped confines of the Hive World, when she had felt the open sky was just a bit too much. In turn, she had offered her hands to repair Bradford (her name for it) when he had inevitably damaged, making sure that each and every part of him was in perfect working order. He would not fall apart on her watch, he was hers after all. Her life was entrusted to his, his to hers.

While he was not truly alive, she could swear that sometimes it felt like he was, responding to her when she talked to him, moving just that little bit more that saved her from an incoming missile, activating faster than she thought he would need. The little things.

The two of them had fought their way across hundreds of worlds, in dozens of campaigns, each time emerging out the other side damaged but still operational. Just as Bradford needed new arms or legs, Geraldine occasionally had to get her own limbs and organs replaced when something inevitably breached the cockpit and wounded her.

It was at the point where she had more prosthetic limbs than organic ones, her left shoulder being the only one that was still flesh, the rest made of plasteel, plasteel that was taken from one of Bradford's arms that had been cut off by a rebel Leo. She had cried piteously at that, she had failed him, allowed him to be damaged, a crime she was sure, and if it wasn't, it was a crime in her heart.

As for the rest of her unit… eh. She didn't really care about them, they were replaceable, all of them like her. They worked together well, a requirement for all Leo pilots, but when it came to personal relationships, she had seen too many squadmates die for her to want to get close to anymore. She had Bradford and that was enough.

Deep in her own thoughts, she didn't hear the deployment Klaxons, the klaxons that were telling her to get ready to deploy because the Princess was in danger. They were on standby after all in the event that the Princess needed a path out of the combat zone and back to safety. Klaxons that would only ring if an air extraction was unfeasible, if the Princess needed the heaviest support that they currently had. Granted Geraldine would have probably been inside the Leo regardless of whether or not she was on standby, it was home to her, a piece of it at any rate.

Geraldine frowned, what kind of fuck'eads were stupid enough to try and attack the Princess? Didn't they understand what would happen if they did? Did they want to die that much? If they did then Geraldine would do her best to accommodate them because sometimes… sometimes people just really needed to die.

Unfolding herself from her fetal position, lying on the seat of the Leo, Geraldine leant backwards in the chair, making sure that her legs, arms and body were inside the inserts. It would be particularly bad for her if they weren't, generally having them torn off bad if she was unlucky.

Once that was done, she tapped the activation signal that would see Bradford brought to life, would see him once again merge with her so that the two of them could once again be made whole. Pilots were forbidden from spending more than 60% of each day linked with their Mobile Suits unless in combat, something that Geraldine only obeyed lest she be shot by a Commissar, as much as she wanted to be with Bradford, obeying the Commissar was a good idea.

If she didn't she would be permanently separated from Bradford and she refused to allow that to happen.

As the activation of the Mobile Suit began, the entire cockpit lit up, the lights of the screen that showed the outside world activating, the runes displaying the information that she would need to keep up to date with the situation. Breathing in she obeyed the words that flashed on the screen.

"Place head securely in the rack. Remove all obstacles preventing clean link."

Bringing her right hand up, Geraldine swept her hair up and over the headrest before bringing it back down to the insert. The entire chair was made of synth-leather, something that was the height of comfort, it would need to be given how much time they spent sitting on it. It got to the point where there were permanent marks where Geraldine sat, something she was absurdly happy about, a part of her would always be with Bradford no matter what happened.

Maybe if when she died, Bradford would be waiting for her on the other side.

It was a foolish dream but it was one that consumed her thoughts all the same.

Geraldine breathed in deeply in preparation for the upcoming link.

Soon.

Soon she would no longer be just Geraldine, she would be… more.

Arms clenching the little handholds in the inserts, her legs pressing deeply into the spaces, her body clenched in anticipation.

Soon.

Soon she would be with Bradford.

She waited an eternity, no doubt actually a few seconds but it felt like so much longer, felt like what she wanted, the future that was promised was just out of reach.

Now.

A small whirring, and a jolt as a connector stabbed into the slot at the back of her head.

Uuuuuhhghgbbhghuugghbigbgbyy

Geraldine jolted, her body shaken by the connection to Bradford, her mind becoming aware of a second presence that was distinctly unlike hers, one that was not human, that wasn't organic but something else entirely. A presence that was uniquely Bradford's. The clamps activated and enfolded her body, keeping her still no matter what happened, it would not do for the link to be cut off halfway, therein lay the path to madness. The neck and head braces being especially durable for that reason.

It was like she was no longer Geraldine but… Geraldine and Bradford, the two of them being connected at such a base level that she was no longer wholly her own.

It was the greatest feeling in the world for her, one that she craved. Being together with Bradford was something that consumed her thoughts, was the height of her ambitions.

It was small, but it was hers, just as she was Bradford's.

Geraldine opened her eyes… or rather she opened her eyes. The eyes were not that of the human Geraldine, but the eyes of Bradford the Mobile Suit. The augur suites build into the walker allowing her to see and to experience the outside world in such a detail that it defied human imagination, likely because a human could never experience this much detail to begin with. Bradford's computing power allowing her to experience it all without going insane from the abundance of information and detail.

A loud whirring noise, a squeaky clanking, a mechanical roar that shook her bones, and Bradford was ready, activated, thirsty for blood. Or rather she was thirsty for blood, but since she was Bradford now, he was too.

Geraldine moved her foot. Or rather she moved Bradford's food, the link shutting down the link of her brain to her own body, transferring it instead to that of Bradford's body. She would be able to move Bradford's body just as if it were her own, each and every step, each and every clenching of the fists, each and every turn of the head. All of it being hers. In doing so Bradford trusted her with his safety, and she trusted Bradford with the safety of her body.

They were one now, their fates intertwined.

Another step forward, this time with her arm rising to grab the Gatling Lascannon, they would be shooting at puny infantry now, not tanks after all.

Beam sabres, shield, cannon, ready.

Geraldine stepped out of her bay and onto the main walkway, eager to be off.

There were enemies of the Imperium to crush, there was a life to live, there was a world that needed to be shown the might of Bradford. Allow them to cower, beg for mercy and die as ignoble a death as the life that they had led.

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George12

Nov 23, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 022

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 23, 2016

#185

Geraldine pushed forward, her physical eyes closed, her new mechanical ones wide opened. It was always strange to not need to blink, but it was something she could live with, not when she could be with Bradford.

Walking forward she joined her squadron, 3 other Mobile Suits, the Captain that commanded them leading the way, marked by the dual auto-cannons on his shoulders. She had served with him before but the callous way he regarded his Mobile Suits, as something to be used as necessary and discarded if they weren't up to task really got on her nerves.

But he was her commanding officer, respect the rank and not that man, something for her to live by she supposed.

As for the others, she had never met them before, but they were good enough to be here so she was going to treat them like it. She was a professional after all. Everyone agreed with that, once they got past muttering "cockpit shagger" behind her back. They weren't as quiet as they thought they were in all honesty but she was benevolent and allowed them to keep their illusions.

She was good enough to be part of the Princess' Guard, good enough to be part of the vanguard even. If they wanted to be annoying, she could ignore them, it wasn't like there was anyone like that at Princess Base anyway.

As she muttered gently under her breath at the way no-one could appreciate her all consuming desire to be with Bradford, Geraldine walked forward, her Leo keeping pace with the others of the squad. There were 2 other squads currently here at Princess Base, she assumed that they would be deployed as well. The Princess was the highest priority, even over their own lives. But that was a given.

The details of her walker entered her mind, a little knowledge that allowed her to have a constant and complete knowledge of every single part and component of her Mobile Suit, every single screw, every single joint, the internal augurs telling her exactly how each piece was faring. Added together it allowed for a comprehensive report should something go wrong, should there be something that needed to be looked at later, the knowledge simply appearing inside of her mind. There was no need to call it up, no need to bother Bradford about it, it was just there.

Geraldine looked forward slightly as Bradford moved onto the heavy duty lift that would take them to the surface. Or just below the surface into the ready room directly under the ramp. Once there they would exit out and move to the city, crushing all resistance in their way, securing an exit route for the Princess and escorting her Chimera back to Princess Base.

As for the other 2 squads they would be on standby, ready to engage and destroy any threats that presented themselves. Directly under the ramps, servos revving, ready to engage and destroy any threats to the Princess that Geraldine and her squad couldn't deal with themselves.

There was no need for talk, they knew what they needed to do and they were heading out to do it.

As she stepped forward Geraldine allowed herself to wallow in the sensation of power that being inside Bradford offered. Every step was one that affirmed that she was the most powerful being on the battlefield, every time she swung her arm, the momentum produced a rush that spoke of the strength that she could bring to bear on any situation that called for it, or on those that didn't.

She allowed herself a mental smile, one that she could have sworn that Bradford emulated somehow.

No matter, if he was going to be coy she could always upbraid him about it later.

As she stood at the ramp Geraldine waited for it to rise to the surface, the light going green before she could walk on. Trying to do it on a ramp that was in motion was a sure way to topple over, the auto-calibrators didn't do so well when things were changing on the vertical axis.

Green.

She walked forward, into the sunlight, into the world.

One that she had only seen through the briefing reports before this point, one that was as alien to her as being in the Damocles Gulf had been.

That had been a different hell, one that had seen them suffer until the Mechanicus authorised the use of Beam Cannons in the atmosphere, an effect that allowed them to engage the Tau Mobile Suits at range, whereas before they had been reduced to nothing more than walking targets.

Bradford sunk to his knees, the explosion of 04 to his right from a core impact knocking him off balance. Geraldine inside cursed loudly, they had been waiting for the Tau, left on the defensive as the Tau were able to engage them at ranges that their Laser weapons could not reach. To attack was to be kited about, losing Mobile Suits left and right until there was nothing left to lose.

The damned Xeno developed their technology too fast, too rapidly, from the dinky little Mobile Suits they had enjoyed great pleasure in crushing, to the mobile behemoths that were now engaging them.

Bradford's servos whined with stress as he stood back on his feet, Laser-Megacannon ready. Just waiting, watching and waiting. Trying in vain to see the enemy, the Augur system churning with every ounce of power that was being shoved into its already overworked systems. Geraldine couldn't smell what was outside, but from experience, it was going to be that of flesh, of cooked flesh.

"Authorization Code #082921 Beam Cannons Authorized. May the Omnissiah Forgive Us." Came the voice over her comm-link. A savage grin filling the face of Bradford, if he had a face that was.

Walking over to the armour locker, making sure to keep his body low, he knelt down at the stations. Bradford opened the now unlocked weapons locker and withdrew from it a Beam Cannon, capable of countering the range of the Tau Mobile Weapons, perhaps force them to either flee, or engage in close combat. Either situation being agreeable.

Up again, weapon at the hip, the inbuilt superior Augur systems already scanning. Scanning. There. Triangulating the shot. Accounting for atmospheric interference. Accounting for ground debris. Accounting for effect of gravitational pull. Accounting for speed of target. Accounting for distance. Confirmed.

"Firing Beam Cannon. Get back." Geraldine voiced over the speakers, a warning to the infantry that had survived the explosion of 04.

Bradford pulled the trigger and a beam of what looked like bright yellow streamed from the barrel. Or rather it was a pellet of plasma that shone so brightly that it looked as if it were a beam, so bright that the augur systems had automatically shaded it to prevent blindness. The heat from merely being nearby was enough to melt the sand underneath the barrel, a canyon of molten glass.

Those still in the area would have been cooked alive, regrettable. As for the Beam Cannon, it was now useless, melting from the effect of firing it inside of the atmosphere. Regardless, the target had been destroyed and there were more Beam Cannons inside of the locker.

So long as Bradford avoided being destroyed, he, in turn, would destroy the foul Xeno. A thought that came with it a shuddering pain at the shoulder. One that had Geraldine scream in agony, the Walker's left arm having been melted in retaliation, the explosion knocking the Mobile Suit to the ground.

Working through the pain, Bradford gripped the previously discarded Laser Megacannon, something that could be fired with one hand. If they wanted to engage, to get in close and confirm the kill? Bradford would be waiting.

They had survived that encounter, the Tau not choosing to advance and being warded off by the now Beam Cannon equipped Imperial Walker Squadrons. They had lost the world, a world that had been left cracked, broken, scarred by the horrendous forces employed between both factions, their weapons twisting the very nature of the world from lush forest, to scraggly undergrowth. From there it had been more war, more worlds to burn.

A world that was not being torn apart by war? A city that was intact? What sort of strange reality was this?

She had heard the stories, but this was something else entirely. She had been too good with Bradford to ever allow her to police worlds, it was always one warzone to the next with her, something that was not serving her well as many different concerns were making their way into her mind. Should she try to avoid collateral damage?

Maybe she should be nice about this? They hadn't been declared enemies yet, had they? There were insurrectionists in the city but that was not the entire population was it? Or maybe it was. If the population allowed for insurrectionists, they were complicit in their crimes. Perhaps she should have chosen the Promethium Cannon, all the better to purge the weak and the foolish.

"Rules of Engagement. Avoid citizen casualties. Engage only if engaged." Came the voice of Maxwell, the Captain, the one that treated his Walkers like equipment the monster.

But she was professional and she would not hold it against him. Respect the rank, not the holder.

"Yes, sir!" She said. Sharp, crisp, metallic. A given when her body was inert and she spoke through Bradford. It was a thrill, to be honest, to hear Bradford speak her words. If she could she would talk all day but that would get her reported for an infraction.

No purging today, a disappointment.

The squad moved through, making sure to avoid stepping on any of the… houses? Huts? Bradford had scanned one of them and it looked to be made of wood… and baked mud? Was this some kind of feudal world that they had landed on? Why did they need her and Bradford if the enemy was just going to be using spears or something, how very peculiar.

Things changed as they made their way into the main city, where she could see buildings that were made with a weaker kind of metal than plasteel, but close to it in function, and glass. Absurd amounts of glass. Did they want everyone in those buildings dead? Because that was how you created prime targets for any snipers with adequate aim.

How strange, it was as if the people of this world were unused to war. Perhaps they had been at peace? But if that was so then why had the Princess been attacked?

Something to consider perhaps, now that they were out of the hilly terrain and on flat ground again, they were once again allowed to move fast. Beginning a loping run, the squad began to quicktime it to the city along the coast to where the Princess' assault had been reported. They would need to hurry it up, it had been 5 minutes since the initial mobilisation report and they were only a third of the way to the Princess, they would need to go faster.

Geraldine apologised profusely to Bradford as she made her way forward, pushing the servos, the individual supports, the joints to their maximum, redlining many systems. She would have to service him thoroughly after this, but the mission necessitated that they make their way there quickly. The Princess had the highest priority of all objectives.

There. The Princess' Chimera was heading along the road, she hesitated to call it a highway due to the size of the thing, but it was clearly enough for the Chimera to barrel down. Why it was going so fast became evident by the sight of the flying psykers following behind it as well as a variety of ground vehicles. They were keeping their distance which was adequate, each having the same colour scheme.

Perhaps this was the local law enforcement that they had been made aware of previously? The one that existed to… do things. She was not sure what exactly since they were forbidden from killing lawbreakers, but clearly, they had the equipment to do so. Maybe they were just soft, weak.

Geraldine wasn't quite ready to ascribe to them positive values, they had failed in policing their own city and allowed the Princess to come under attack. The Chimera was still at least 30 seconds away, a warning shot?

No.

That was against the RoE, a body block then.

"04 Bodyblocking." She messaged over the network a heads up to the others of the squad so that they would take other roles.

"Acknowledged. 01 left flank, 03 right flank, 02 point." Said Maxwell, directing the others and telling them his own position as well.

Now.

Geraldine leapt forward, Bradford landing behind the Chimera between it and the psykers and their ground transport. Lift up the Laser Rotary Cannon, menacing pose, hold.

The psykers stopped, clearly afraid. Good. Maybe they would attack and she would be able to end them for their incompetence.

The ground vehicles were stopped as well, that was also good, also not so good. She wanted to step on something, it looked like she would be able to. She had been avoiding the vehicles on the road as per the RoE, each step either to the side or in the middle to avoid civilian casualties, something that was… boring.

Where was the titanic battles, the enormous armies? This was… not too great to be honest. These enemies were too primitive if they relied on floating psykers to do the work for them. One well placed sniper and they were all gone, where would the incompetent law enforcement be then?

Something to consider hmmm?

Stepping backwards slowly, Geraldine made sure to keep them in her sights at all times, there was no knowing when it came to psykers, their stability was suspect at the best of times.

As they showed no signs of engaging or following, Geraldine allowed Bradford to turn and follow the now slower Chimera. It was still moving at jogging pace, fast, but not redlining their engines fast.

Geraldine let out a little sigh, when she got back she was going to make sure to give Bradford a good service and to make sure that every single little nook and cranny was going to be well washed. No filthy feudal world shit was going to be contaminating her beautiful Bradford.

She could have sworn she felt approval at that, Bradford was so sly.

"Sooooo… did anyone else just see what I did?" Asked Assault, his voice deadpan. They had been on standby since the Princess had been sighted and after Lung had made his challenge and the Princess was being evacuated by her personal APC… well the PRT followed behind to ensure that nothing would happen to her.

The threat of a revenge Vortek missile was simply too great a threat to allow unchecked.

"What? The fact that she has a personal escort of 4 giant robots? I mean that's totally normal right?" Asked Clockblocker, his barely repressed excitement bleeding through their earbuds.

"I saw the livestream, but seeing them in person…" Aegis, the soon to be newest member of the PRT, graduating from the Wards murmured, voice filled with wonder and awe.

"They move far too naturally. They're dangerous." Said Armsmaster, no doubt already trying to calibrate defensive measures against them. Being this close allowed him use of his power to try and see what was the least optimised and therefore the greatest weak point.

As for the Protectorate troopers themselves, they were murmuring not with the eyes of those that would need to defend against them, but rather with the eyes of those that would very much like to ride one. They were grunts, leave the hows and whys to blow them up to the guys upstairs, appreciation of giant, well oiled machinery was their forte.

Every man could sit back and watch giant machines doing giant things, it was just in their DNA.

"Holy shit man. Where the fuck do we get one?" Asked the most obvious question asker person ever.

"Not on this planet." Said Corporal Obvious.

"How fast do you think that thing was going?"

"Well the APC was heading at around 60 kilometers per hour, and those things were keeping pace. That's a fast giant robot."

"If they have those, what do you reckon about them having flying ones?"

"Aw shit. Flying giant robots? Man this is such a fucking cool time to be alive. What's next? Power Rangers? Fuck yes man."

"Fist bump bro."

"Ye-ah bro!"

And in this, they had a great time.

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George12

Nov 23, 2016

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George12

George12

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Nov 24, 2016

#205

Tim was a professional. One might even say that he was an assassin of particular renown. The kind of assassin that you would be able to employ to kill anything that might need killing, assuming it was was smaller than a Titan.

That and you wouldn't need to employ him since he was a Catachan and officially assigned to a Regiment, orders were much cheaper than paying for an actual assassin. It did not mean that he was not very good at it, he had killed his way through many different battlefields, many different hive worlds, open fields, jungles, oceans, and whatever else that a man could walk on without needing to wear a self-contained suit (shirts were the work of Chaos he was sure).

After all, had he not shoved his knife down a Chaos Space Marine's Power Armour, through the gap where the chest plate and the helmet met, the tight membrane that when faced with his monomolecular blade, split apart, exposing his insides to the long hunk of metal, one that split him apart inside. Tim would then… jiggle… his knife around inside of the poor sod and watch as they jerked and twitched in response. He had died… not silently, his body exploded in a fountain of blood and gore. Whatever the Ruinous Powers decided to gift him not lasting beyond his death.

When it came to killing normal humans, well Tim was much more discerning about his methods. After all, they were normal humans, none of that bullshit power armour to protect them. No sirree, he went in, and it was almost like being in a canteen that catered to multiple regiments. Some called it a buffet, but that sounded like a word that pansies would use. Regardless, it was liberating the way he could just use his knife, or maybe he could use his hands, or if he was in a rush, his lasgun. There was no set doctrine and it was always something that opened up the world for him, something that made life enjoyable.

For Psykers he was much more direct, it was never good to allow one to get a hold of his actions. It was always to act in the heat of the moment, the longer he stalked one, the long he aimed down the sights, the longer he took to stab the mutant in the brain, the higher the chance that he would be able to predict what was happening and dodge out of the way. Something that had to be avoided if he wanted a clean kill.

Then came the Orks, those fuckers were annoying in the extreme. Kill one and they would release a cloud of spores that would only create more Orks. Something that was truly irritating. Kill one and suddenly there was 50 more (well more like in 20 years there would be 50 more, but that wasn't the point). The best way to go about killing Orks was to just stab them in the brain, jiggle the knife then get away. Orks had robust enough bodies that they could sometimes keep fighting even after their brains had been quite literally shredded. Best to stay away just in case they lashed out in a last strike moment.

Tyranids were another kettle of fish entirely. When one was trying to kill those, it was best to go for the in-between parts of their exoskeletons. The way the knife would be able to slide in all the easier, allowing you to aim it and push for the key points. Not that it really helped most of the time, the Tyranid being flexible enough that every new wave would have the previous weak points fixed, the old vital organs moved to different locations. Killing Tyranid was a battle of attacker and defender, something that was usually deadly if you were on the wrong end of it all.

Necrons were bullshit in their own ways. Trying to kill one usually needed a Power Weapon of some kind, trying to sneak up on them was easily done, it was the killing that was the difficult part. Sometimes he would pull their heads off, sometimes he would try and jam his knife in through the front of the skull. If he was lucky they would be the grey ones, the dull boring ones that had the very obvious engrams on their foreheads or chests. Destroying both of those would render the skeleton thing inert, easy enough really.

Then the Blue Fuckers, the Tau. They… they didn't deserve to have their own unique method needed to kill them really. It was easy enough to just grab one by the throat, swing your arm out to the side as fast as you could, and then laugh as it's neck snapped from the acceleration. They were tiny, puny, weak. Using a knife on them would be an insult to the knife. It was always best to just kill them with the hands, quicker as well. Even the PDF were more capable than they were.

It didn't really matter what race it was really, as long as it was the right size he could end it. He wasn't as good with explosives as Gazza, proficient in hand to hand combat as Fred, or had the Sergeant's acumen for leadership, nor did he have Bazza's proficiency when it came to ranged weaponry. His speciality was sneaking into camps, into Hiver bases, into everything and anything that might be considered a place that humanoids could enter and exit. It was not something that was truly difficult, not for him at any rate. He was after all extremely good at his work. It was just the way the world worked, everyone got their own little niche and his was killing and sneaking.

The target this time around was a man by the name of Thomas Calvert. He had tried to listen in on the conversation between Nunciate Advance Maxine and the Director of the local law enforcement. It had warranted an investigation and after Engiseer Hurosius had returned with the reports that this man had access codes that belonged only to the highest possible rank. Something that he as a mere patrol leader would not have access to.

Something was different, something was concerning. Tim had been dispatched to evaluate the man, trail after him, watch him, report his every activity. It was easy enough, just moving quietly, making sure that he would never be suspicious, never notice, never even have any cause to know about the giant of a man that was crawling on the rooftops after him. As for Tim, it wasn't that much of a challenge… not at first.

Things had taken a turn for the suspicious when one Thomas Calvert made his way over to a building titled as "Fortress Construction" which should not have been strange. He was the head of the corporation, after all, Hurosius' investigations had turned that little bit of information up readily. But… well… the way he had entered a horizontal elevator car and was transported across what looked like half the city before it stopped underneath a nondescript storage facility. One that was home to a massive underground base. Well, not really massive, rather small by Imperial standards, but it was certainly big enough for a puny citizen to get lost in it if they weren't careful. The man had donned a skintight costume and paraded himself about as "Coil." As for Tim, he had hitched a ride on the elevator, only he was holding onto the outside for dear life, swinging and changing his position to avoid being crushed by the various blast doors that opened and closed on the way over.

After the information that the man was in actuality a Villain was made known, orders had come to end him. His position in the local law enforcement agency made him far too much of a threat, him being able to access (or try to) the conversations of those higher up in the chain, those of the Sororitas and even those of the Princess in time made him dangerous. His controlling of an organisation that hid in the shadows despite his actual power meant that to they of the Imperium who had seen similar before, he was a threat that had to be eliminated immediately.

After all, one did not tolerate a Tzeentchite spy in their immediate proximity, to do so would only open you up for their plots which in turn would likely cause catastrophic damage at a later date. Excising the tumour early was necessary, especially if they wanted to maintain operational security.

And so the kill order had come down from Maxine herself, ratified by the Colonel and Senior Adept Hurosius. The man named Thomas Calvert would die, at exactly 4:30pm the day after the order had been given.

Why it was that the time had been set to 4:30 was due to the fact that a parallel operation was being launched by those of the Phantine Skyborne guided in by Gazza. The one known as Lisa Wilborn had participated in attempting to breach the communication as Thomas Calvert had, something that was not worth much investigation except for the report by Gazza that had her marked as "psyker". With the implantation of an independent Machine Spirit inside of Calvert's cogitators by Tim on Hurosius' orders, the fact that this Thomas Calvert also employed, or rather coerced Lisa Wilborn into working for him was a worry... and an opportunity, one that had to be dealt with at the earliest opportunity.

Thomas Calvert was an immediate threat, he was to be removed from play immediately, making him "disappear" being the key concern. It would not be too difficult really, the same as they had done multiple times before to many hundreds of others. Simply grabbing the man, then making sure that there was nobody that saw him disappear, then disposing of him in such a manner that he wouldn't ever be found again.

The fear being that he had deserted or been killed, but not having any actual evidence to either theory.

And so it was that Thomas Calvert would be ended, by Lisa Wilborn would be taken into Princess Base. She had proven that she was open to coercion, if that was the case then having another psyker assist in the operational needs of the Princess' Guard would be a boon. It would be a simple matter of soul-binding her to the Princess that she would never be able to betray the Princess as well as create a leash on her powers. It was either that or death, and hopefully she was smart enough to choose the former option.

At 4:30pm Thomas Calvert felt something touch his head as he sat inside his underground facility. It would be the last thing he felt as it pressed into his temple, the second timeline closing immediately.

For the Thomas Calvert who sat inside his home drinking a cup of coffee, it was a rather rude wake-up. Things had been going so well, in the chaos after the Princess' arrival, he had been readying to step in and offer his services. He could see where it was that things were heading and was preparing to take advantage of that to the best of his capabilities. He would be getting the maximum benefit from this, temporary goals for creating a kingdom set aside. It would be foolish to try and work while the other side had those that were able to see into his very mind.

Something to be concerned with perhaps? If they could see into his mind then they would know just what it was he was thinking.

Still, it was too late for that, someone had just killed his second timeline and that meant…

It was the last thought that Thomas Calvert ever had. There would be nothing more, there would be no heaven, no hell, his soul would dissolve into the Warp and be reborn again as an entirely different entity. He was not dead yet of course, that would come later. Rather, he was as good as dead, which in the hands of a Catachan meant he was very certainly dead.

As for Tim, it was a more involved process, using the sewers to transport the body, getting out into the ocean, preparing the body with weights and barbed wire wrapped around it, snapping the neck at the last moment, swimming out to sea, dropping the weighted body and watching as it dropped all the way down below.

The barbed wire wrapped around his body would cause the body to explode when the bacteria inside did their work, released gases and made it float up again. There would be no more Thomas Calvert, he was gone, both in body and spirit, neither of which were to be seen again.

On an unrelated note, there was a large explosion in the middle of the city at an abandoned construction site. The death toll is believed to be in the dozens, all of them being unaffiliated mercenaries, the civilian death toll is unknown. The police are looking into it, more news to follow.

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Nov 24, 2016

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George12

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Nov 24, 2016

#206

Gazza hummed to himself. It looked like the little mutant had overreached and decided to try and hack into the Sister's communications. Anytime else and it may have resulted in nothing more than a reprimand and perhaps a few laughs, but the Sister had been in a bad mood following the way the Princess had been insulted following the initiation of a duel by the Dragon mutant.

He wasn't sure as to what the insult was exactly, but it was certainly serious enough that his orders regarding the little psyker revolved around bringing her to Princess Base in chains in preparation for an interrogation. Even if they didn't have an Inquisitor on standby, they certainly did have a Sister of the Ordos Hospitaller, which in turn meant that she was very good with her… knives. That and the drugs that were designed in such a way that the poor fool underneath them would feel every single stroke of the blade with clarity that would shatter their minds while the other drugs prevented them from going unconscious.

When she was done with them, there would be nothing left but a quivering wreck that would be perfectly willing to sell out their own parents to avoid going under again. It was not the most… nice of things that he had seen in the Imperium, but it was by no means the worst. Even though Gazza felt sorry for the little psyker, she should have known better than to mess with the Sister. There were things in this universe that even Gazza was afraid of going up against. A Sister of the Ordos Hospitaller was one of them.

Place him in front of a swarm of Tyranid and he would go out swinging, each and every impact taking off heads until he inevitably fell and died. That was perfectly fine, he was a Catachan and more importantly, he was of the Imperial Guard. He was going to die, that much had been expected before he stepped into the ship that would take him away from Catachan and into the wider galaxy.

But going up against a Sister who knew where each and every nerve was, who would be able to make sure that every single stroke of her knife as she cut off his cock and balls was felt with as much clarity that was possible? Well, he wasn't so stupid as to try and provoke that. And so the little psyker was going to be getting some personal attention from the Sister and Gazza would probably be there to hear her scream. Not the most pleasant job, but the one he would have to take since it was he who had come into contact with her in the first place.

There was a squad of Phantine Skyborne behind him for this, there were 4 members to the team, each of them psykers of some kind. Going into a situation where there were 4 psykers arrayed against you was generally what one might call a butt-pegging-fucking stupid decision. And so here he was with a squad of 10 Phantines ready to strike and take them all out at the same time, knock them down and secure them for transport back to Princess Base.

Their general abilities had been made available by the helpful little site called the PHO, tapped into by Hurosius for intelligence. The most pressing matter being that they needed to deal with the big male first, allowing him to call up his shroud was a mistake they could not afford to make, not if they wanted to grab the rest of them. By the same token they had to grab the female and her dogs, keeping them alive would work as leverage. As for the other male, he had nothing, knocking him out and taking him along would be all that was needed.

As for the little psyker, well she was located in another location, one that Gazza and 2 of the Phantines would be headed out to deal with. The other 8 would be tasked with taking down the 3 of them who were staying in the same place, more than 2 per psyker. If they ran into trouble then they would be allowed to terminate the psykers, they were not as valuable as the little psyker who had demonstrated an ability to evade Hurosius' Machine Spirit for a record breaking 30 seconds.

She was valuable and had to be taken alive at all costs.

Gazza gazed down at his chronometer.

4:30

It was time. Nodding at the men who were next to him, Gazza made his way across the street to her house. She was a rather perceptive little psyker, obviously concentrating on the mental aspects of her power, something that meant he would need to move quickly if he wanted to disable her. Going slowly would only result in her getting away if her ability had been estimated correctly.

The other 2 that had come with him were making their way around. One at the back door, the other at the ground floor window to Gazza's right. He in turn, was going for the front door. At the 30 second marker, he punched the doorknob, his fist going straight through, shattering it in a loud crash as the splinters and shards bounced off the opposite walls and floor.

Time.

Rushing up the stairs, Gazza pushed towards room to his immediate right. He would be searching each and every room. Making sure that he didn't miss her. It would be rather embarrassing if she had been hiding under the chair and ran out the front door as he rushed upstairs.

"Don't bother. I'm right here." Came the voice from the room to his left, the one with a couch and what looked like a Pict-box. She certainly didn't look out of place being there, like a queen surveying her domain.

Made a little… comical by the fact that she was wearing sleepwear, but it in an adorable way. Like a child playing at grown up.

Gazza walked over to her, carefully mind you, grinning all the while. It certainly looked like she had predicted where they were coming in from and was waiting. A little gutsy she was, he could appreciate that.

She probably had an idea that if she cooperated she might be able to get out of this one with less scarring than was necessary, that and her hair.

Gazza made sure that he allowed his body to express itself as he needed, it would be better this way. If she knew what was going to happen to her, she might be more cooperative and the pain would end sooner.

Seeing her eyes widen in horror, Gazza felt a little sorry for her. But then again she had decided to play with the Imperium, she had to learn that one simply did not poke at the Imperium, it was unwise and would only result in death if you were lucky, eternities of pain if you were not.

The little psyker was not.

Lisa Wilborn stared at the Catachan in front of her. Gazza. The one that she had coffee with and had been so frustrated over. The one that joked with her, made her feel like she was a normal person for once, one that needed her social skills instead of her power when she wanted to talk to him, it had been liberating, spending a few minutes like she was a normal person again.

And now he was here.

Feels sorry for me - Knows torture awaits - Would kill me if allowed - Thinks death is better than what is waiting for me

Lisa closed her eyes, it looked like it had been a bad idea to sit here and wait for him after all. She should have run, maybe then they would have killed her when she fought back. She had thought she could be smart about it, as if she was somebody special, someone, that was looking to negotiate with them… she was regretting her decision now.

Is going to knock me out - Less pain

Lisa pressed her eyes tigher. Dammit, this was not how their reunion was supposed to go.

Lisa woke up, she was lying on an operating table. One that had those traps meant for insane people on them, her legs spread wide open, her arms outstretched, as if she were imitating a starfish. Why did she know? Because she was bound to the table and as far as she knew, there was no escape from it.

Lisa felt like crying a little. This was not how things were meant to have turned out like.

Turning her head to the left, she spied what looked like…

Knives - Blunted for maximum pain - Chemicals - Increase sensory stimulus - More Pain

Okay. Bad idea. To the right. A glove of some kind greeted her, the kind that belonged on someone's hand, a someone that was looming over her as she looked. It was Maxine, the entire world knew who she was by now, the woman who was a psychopath that was extremely loyal to her Primarch, or in love with her, the message boards had been debating that one.

But for Lisa, she was seeing what it was that this woman truly was. That she was not some kind of leader, she was not some kind of administrator, some kind of politician, no. She was worse.

Intends to torture me - Knows how to inflict the most pain possible - Will enjoy it - Has done it many times in the past - Will torture teammates - Wants to break me - Wants to make me amenable to the idea of becoming loyal to to her Primarch - Willing to kill if not

Lisa closed her eyes, feeling the tears welling up. It looked like no matter what option she chose, life conspired against her. She just wanted to live a life where nobody would notice her, she just wanted to maybe annoy a few people by proving she was smarter than they were, but ultimately, she wanted a life of peace. Where people didn't expect so much of her, where people didn't control her, a life where she was alone… free.

Lisa despaired, feeling it welling up in her heart. There was no escape. She was doomed no matter option she chose wasn't she? Maybe she should just allow herself to die, no more of this, escape this life entirely. Never again to come back. It would be so easy as well. All she needed to do was say the right words to Maxine, the words that she had known when she first looked at her.

The words that would allow her to die, to escape this reality.

"Maxine! What is going on here!?" Came the shout from in between her legs, or rather the direction that the between her legs pointed to. That little bit that was her fleshy bits.

"Princess. I was about to wring a confession from this psyker before breaking her into your service." Maxine said, as if what she was about to do was the most natural thing in the world.

"Why? Why would you do that!?" The Princess spoke again, her saviour it looked like. Only Lisa couldn't bring herself to care, she was doomed regardless.

"It is necessary Princess, to bring her into accepting you, to serving you, she requires coercion. Please, do not be worried, I have done this many times before." She said, sounding so… casual about it.

"No. I forbid you to do this. I said that I would do this without conquering the world. I would do this peacefully. I cannot allow you to do this to her."

"I cannot accept that command Princess, my first priority is your safety, if I must do this to the psyker to ensure her loyalty to you, then I will do so."

"What will it take for you to stop this!?"

Ah, listen to them. Arguing over her as if she was a piece of meat for them to bargain over. It made a girl feel wanted didn't it?

"If she were to bind her soul to you willingly. It will ensure her loyalty. Create a leash around her neck."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then I will kill her."

From the edge of her vision, Lisa could see the Princess for the first time. The shot of her back did not do her justice, this… this was something else.

Perfect

Yes. She certainly agreed with her powers there.

As the Princess' hand cupped her cheek, Lisa closed her eyes and basked in the warmth, the feeling that her pain and her troubles were no longer of a concern, that she was safe.

"Will you join me? I will treat you well, I will keep you safe. I will care for you. Please, I don't want another death on my conscience."

Truth

If she was to have a master no matter what she did, perhaps… perhaps having one that actually cared for her would be nice. Or maybe that was the mind control. Either way the answer was the same.

"Yes."

And so it was, later that day Lisa Wilborn was reborn as one of the Princess' chosen. Her right hand, she who had her ear in all matters. The eyes of the court, the first, the binder of secrets.

The Tattletale She had picked that name originally because it was sassy and cool, it wasn't like she wanted a new one anyway

Spoiler: Chapter Output from here on

Last edited: Nov 24, 2016

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George12

Nov 24, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude Maxine

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 24, 2016

#231

So. For those that are confused as to Taylor's motivations, why she seems so... undecided, what Mitchelli is here for, why Maxine is so... brutal. 2 chapters I just whipped up to give a massive dump of exposition to give a little insight into what they are thinking. Thank Beyogi on SB for their pointing out the lack of exposition on Maxine. Lots of talking, little doing.

"Why Maxine! Why would you do that? Why would you try and torture her like that? What has she done to deserve it?" Taylor cried out to her, her Primarch, the one that she had sworn her life to. They were in Maxine's room, a simple one, reflective of her station.

"I did it because it was necessary Taylor."

"Necessary? I… I saw what you did Maxine, you shot those people, you ordered people killed, you… you… why? I wanted to do this peacefully, why Maxine, why?" The Primarch called, her face twisted with anguish. Maxine's heart went out to her, but the Primarch needed to understand that what she was dealing with was humanity, the greatest and ugliest threat of them all, even if they were those she was charged with protecting.

"Taylor, Taylor. Please. Come here. Sit down with me, come, come." Maxine said softly, patting the bench that she was sitting on, her arm reaching out to the infant Primarch.

Her arm was slapped away and from the pain, it was clear that she had broken some bones, the Primarch was clearly getting used to her powers, it was… unfortunate that Maxine would be the lesson if the expression of horror on her Primarch's face was any indication. Maxine chuckled slightly at that, so young, so innocent.

"Taylor, please. Sit, sit." Maxine murmured, patting the bench again.

"But your arm! It's broken! We need to get a doctor, we… we… I'm sorry! I just…" She was stuttering now, a habit that Maxine would need to break her out of.

"Please Taylor, I am a doctor as you call them. It's nothing serious, now, please. Sit down Taylor." Her last words were delivered with as much gravitas as she could, her tone of voice serious. She was telling the truth, clean fractures both of them, she could patch those up in her sleep.

"Yes, Maxine." The young Primarch said, her face twisted into an expression of sadness.

"Now. Taylor, what did you want to ask, one at a time." Maxine said, her voice soft again, drawing out the Primarch's woes and worries.

"Why were you about to torture that girl Maxine? Why would you do that?" Her Primarch said, her voice tinged with worry, concern… sadness. She was not prepared for this Maxine realised, she had not been prepared to challenge her, she was still worried about betrayal, of not being deemed worthy. Maxine could have shaken her head, foolish.

Did not she realise that Maxine was hers to do with as she wished? Maxine's life, her soul, her very being was the Primarch's to do with as she wished. She was hers and hers alone.

"Because she is a psyker, she is a threat. She must be treated as such, an unregistered psyker is a threat not just to you and I, but to themselves. By making her more malleable, she will be more willing to bind her soul to yours, to leash her power, to stop her from as you would call it… "wigging out." Maxine explained gently.

"But she isn't a psyker, she's a cape! They don't have a connection to the Warp!" Taylor said, her voice confused. Ah, she had not spoken to Konrad yet had she?

"They do not have a connection to the Warp that is true, but they do have a connection to another reality. Each of these Cape's as you call them have shown to have a connection to another of what you would call Dimensions. Hurosius' scanners have shown that much, what we assumed were purely useful to detect Chaos incursions have proven themselves to be extremely useful here. They are under the influence of an outside entity, it may not be that of the Warp, it may not be that of the gods of Chaos, but it is still some kind of influence, a dangerous influence that must be dealt with.

"I understand that you are an idealist Taylor, but these people are doing things they likely cannot control, not if there is a being that is connected directly to their minds. It is for their own good Taylor." Maxine said, stroking Taylor's hair with her free hand, the unbroken hand.

"But why the torture Maxine? Why?" She begged for an answer it was all too evident in her eyes. She would need to work on that, having all of it available at a glance would only work against her.

"It makes them ready for you. If it does not happen then they will try to fight it and that could be dangerous for them. They could go blind you know, or insane, or even die." Maxine said, her briefing prior to being transferred to this world reflected that. "Everything I do, I do for you, Taylor.

"I… I… ok. Ok. Then why did you shoot those people Maxine. Why did you do that. You could have done it peacefully. You could have just talked to them. Just put them in a room or something." Ah. Her Primarch truly was adorable in her naiveté. The way she thought that peace was an option, that there would be a way out of every situation that did not involve some kind of violence. It was adorable, it was a liability.

"Taylor, it appears to me that you have not had a lesson in politics and the social side of things as of yet. I have been top busy getting you caught up on your studies that I have neglected your more urgent needs. Yet I wished to avoid them for the time being as it truly is a complicated and ugly beast to worry about." Maxine sighed. She did not wish to get into this. She wanted her Primarch to remain pure, to be innocent. Even as she protested that the Primarch needed to be able to do what was necessary, she paradoxically wished that her Primarch would remain as she was.

A foolish wish for a foolish woman.

"It can't be that bad right? We just have 2 parties and they just fight against each other and there's elections as well." She said, adorable.

"No Princess, there is politics, that which the people see, and there is politics where things are done. You have to understand something Taylor, people are greedy creatures, vain, ugly, selfish, monstrous. We hate to see it for it reminds us of what is deep inside of each of us, waiting to be unleashed.

"You must understand Taylor that we, humanity are not good, nor are we bad. We are at a fundamental level… primal. We see the product of our environment, yet we are also the product of our genes, of our birth, of our nature. We are human Taylor, when it comes down to it, we are still willing to do horrendous things to ourselves and to each other to survive. This is just how the world works Taylor, it is horrifying, it is the truth. And it affects every single interaction that we have with one another, from the smallest of children to the most powerful of nobles."

"But there is good! There are people that are happy! They help each other, charities, caring for each other!" Taylor said to her, ah. Adorable. How innocent they are at this stage in life where there is no cynical reality to intrude on everything. It was never an option for Maxine, she had been born on Terra and had seen first hand what the reality of humanity is. It was disgusting, yet it was in a strange way, beautiful. She did what she did to held, to save, to protect this disgustingly beautiful thing that was humanity.

"Who are they Taylor, who are they that helps, who cares? Who are they not as individuals Taylor but all of them as a group?"

"They… ummm. I don't know?"

"They are those that have, they who have enough that they can give some of it away. It is they who are giving Taylor, when you are not scrambling to survive, it is then that you have enough that you can begin to be human again. Or rather you transcend base humanity."

"But… how does that work? Why?"

"It is just who we are. It is what we are." Maxine said, stroking Taylor's hair again.

"How does that relate to the shooting, to the politics?" Taylor asked, sounding confused.

"Consider Taylor, why was it that there were aides there? Are your leaders so stupid that they cannot comprehend what it means when I say "no extras allowed" or is it something else Taylor?" Maxine asked.

"Well no… They aren't stupid."

"Yes, they are not. So why did they do that Taylor despite the fact that I said so? It is because they were testing us and by extension you, my Primarch, they want to see how far they can go before things bounce back at them. By shooting them from the start, by doing it when they couldn't escape, by showing how helpless they are, we in turn, showed that we would not budge, that we would not allow them liberties. In shooting their arms and not killing them, we showed them that we were also merciful.

"Obey what we say and you shall not be punished, disobey and we will punish your infraction with the full force we have at muster. Yet we are also merciful, we showed that day we are willing to allow transgressors the chance to live" Maxine said carefully, seeing if her Primarch could pick up on what she was trying to say.

"But couldn't you have talked things out peacefully? Told them to stop before they even came here?" Taylor asked. Maxine sighed mentally in frustration, she was not ready, she was too young for this, too indoctrinated into one school of thought, the wrong school of thought.

"And what purpose would that serve Taylor? What would they have learned of us if we denied them the opportunity to test us." Maxine asked.

"Ummm. That we won't let them bring their people in?"

"And?"

"Ummm… that we enforce our rules?"

"And?"

"Ummm. I don't know."

"There is nothing else Taylor, they will learn nothing else, and by extension, the rest of the world does not learn anything else either."

"But why? Why does it matter if the rest of the world learns anything?" Taylor asked, bathing Maxine in her innocence.

"It matters Taylor because we are here to save the world are we not? How do you think that will happen, Taylor?" Maxine asked, rubbing Taylor's back as she did so.

"We appeal to people. Then they will want to join us!" She said, not even thinking about it huh.

"So you will appeal to the people, what about them is so worth appealing to Princess?"

"They are people! They don't have to be worth anything!"

"No no Taylor, not their worth as human beings, what is their worth to your campaign that you want to appeal to them?"

"There's lots of them and they'll join us!"

"How will they do that Taylor? I was not aware that we could fit that many people inside of this base."

"They won't be in the base, they'll all be outside and they'll welcome us in… after we kill the Endbringers."

"Uh huh. So they will just let us in huh? There is no process that they need to go through? They can just welcome people in?"

"Well… no. They talk to their Senators and then they vote and they can let us in."

"So we need to convince not the people, but the Senators. So how do you convince a Senator Taylor?"

"Ummmm. You convince them that it is a good idea!"

"Ignoring the fact that it cannot be that simple, how long would it take to convince the Senators Taylor?

"Ummm. A few weeks?"

"And there are how many of them?"

"Ummm… a few hundred?"

"So we are going to spend how many years doing this Taylor?"

"We could all go and do it at the same time!"

"No, we couldn't Taylor. How many of us are there that can do this? Would you trust Sergeant Black to do this? What about the Kriegers? Mitchelli? You?"

She giggled at that. "No, there's just… you." Her face dawning with the answer to her own question.

"Yes Taylor, just me. You could call more of my sisters here, but even then you need several dozen of us Taylor, how would you pay for that, for the Senators to give us the time of day, to make them vote for us? We don't have any way to make money, we don't have anything that is worth anything on this planet Taylor."

"We can sell some of Hurosius' technology!"

"The same technology that explodes if there isn't an Engiseer chanting to it every few hours?"

"Uuuugh."

"So assuming that we can convince these Senators as you call them, what happens next Taylor?"

"We have a referendum to ask the country if they want to be part of us! We only need half of the country!"

"All the people of the country? There are hundreds of millions of people Taylor, how will you do that?"

"Ummmm. I… I don't know?"

"And what happens Taylor if only half of the country wants to be part of us. What happens to the other half, what are they going to do? Are they going to just accept that they now belong to the Imperium? We aren't their government, after all, we do not have this "free speech" that they like to talk about, we are different on so many different levels. What are they going to do Taylor?"

"I… I… I don't know."

"They are going to revolt, they are going to try and fight us, try to kill us. Half the country that turns the other half against us is an entire country that hates us, Taylor, they want us dead, that is millions of people, are you prepared for that? And while this is all happening, what are your soldiers going to be doing? What about the time, we don't have a lot of time, we need to take the whole world do we not? What are you going to do then Taylor?"

"I… I… I don't know." She sounded so small, but she had to learn, it was necessary for the betterment of the people in the long run. It might hurt them now, but they would thank her later.

"That is why we do what we do Taylor, we show them what we are capable of, we show them what we are willing to do. So that when we do conquer the country, they will be much more willing to agree or else they face us when we are angry and want to hurt them. They will know what we are capable of, they will be afraid, they will not try to fight back. It might be more bloody now… but in the long term Taylor, we will save many more lives than we would if we try to do this peacefully Taylor. We do not have the time, it is just the way this works Taylor. The more of them surrender out of fear, the less death there will be Taylor." Maxine said softly, the look of horror on Taylor's face telling her she might have said too much.

"So war is the only option?"

"Yes. If we are to save the world, we must do as you say… break a few eggs."

And with that the fledgeling Primarch stood up, shoulders bent by the weight of what was her responsibility. She dragged her feet out of the room, the small trail of rocks and rain behind her telling Maxine just how she was feeling right now.

Well, it was a long time coming Maxine considered, rising up to find a bandage for her arm and an injection to hasten the healing process.

63

George12

Nov 24, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude Mitchelli

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 24, 2016

#232

Mitchelli hummed as she wandered around the Princess base. This was certainly shaping up to be something that even Rogal would be proud of. A massive base that had more chokepoints than anything she had ever seen before. A massive little machine to both house the armies of little Prim as well as a means to protect her if things went to the worst conclusion, a way to hold the line while she tried to evacuate to the home dimension.

They would buy time with their lives, protecting the Primarch until the last.

As Mitchelli cast about with her senses, trying to find the souls of everyone in the base to account for them, there wasn't going to be any chaos changeling wandering in under her watch, she found the Primarch, in what appeared to be an extreme state of distress.

How could she tell? Well, she was sitting in one place for one which never happened unless it was after a training session with Mitchelli herself… or… well even in sleep she moved about like she was a free range Grox hunting for a small animals on which to feed. A Primarch that was still was a Primarch that was about to get into a lot of trouble. It was her duty to ward that trouble away was it not?

Mitchelli gave out a brief sigh before making her way over. It looked like another mission for Mitchelli the interventionist who was once again going to save the day and allay fears. She had been raised a Caretaker, after all, she cared about those who were not Space Marines, who were merely citizens in a cold and uncaring galaxy. Someone had to look out for them since there was nobody else to do it, the Arbites didn't care so long as they obeyed the laws, the rich certainly did not, neither did the nobles, the other Space Marines and whoever else it was in the Imperium.

In a civilisation that contained quintillions of souls, who had the time to care about the poor? They were infinitely replaceable and if they were poor… well, they were a very good source of cannon fodder that was for sure. The Primarch was just another of those that Mitchelli automatically put in the category of "to cherish", the girl was just too precious to do otherwise. Even if she was stronger than most beings on this planet.

Only the Primarch wasn't an average citizen and she was a very very powerful being whose powers worked based on her emotions. It would be in Mitchelli's best interests then to make her way over and prevent what might even be a catastrophic event on the scale of what could very possibly be that of a continental scale. The shard was still being absorbed into her soul, a spark could destroy it and unleash the powers contained within, something Mitchelli very much wanted to avoid if at all possible.

Making her way to the Primarch's room, she knocked on the door. "Little Prim, it's me, can I come in?" She asked, sounding as comforting as possible.

"Yes." Came, the reply. Oh dear. That wasn't the voice of someone who was crying, this must be more serious than she thought.

Making her way into the room, Mitchelli once again marvelled at how small it was. If she hopped a little, she would be able to smash her head against the ceiling.

"Well now, what's gotten you into this mood?" Mitchelli asked, trying to make her voice as inquisitive as possible without going overboard, no need to pretend to be an Inquisitor.

"I… I just asked Maxine why she shot those people that visited the base a little while back. She said that it was necessary, that if I wanted to conquer the world it was what I had to do. But… but I don't want to conquer the world! I just want to… to do this peacefully. Why can't everyone get along? Why do I have to choose this way? I don't want this! I don't want this!"

Mitchelli smiled a little. It looked like the Primarch was beginning to understand what it was that was her responsibility. She held the lives of oh so many in her little hands, she was going to need to learn to separate the feeling from the reality or she was going to shatter. It was not possible to save everyone.

Mitchelli knew that.

She had tried.

So many times. The deaths of the innocent weighing on her mind. She was not like the Space Marines of other Legions, or the Chapters, the Caretakers could not undergo Hypnotherapy, they couldn't just learn everything in an information dump, they were too vulnerable for that. Allowing information through the mind created a gate that allowed unfettered access for the savvy, an unmitigated risk for they designed to fight against Chaos at a fundamental level. A crack of her code, and she would be subverted, a weapon of tremendous worth.

And so she was still human despite her growth, despite her power, she still felt empathy, for those under her charge, still felt it despite the thousands upon thousands of times she had seen the weak, the helpless suffer. Her Space Marine brain unable to forget, unable to dull the feeling. For others it might be a feeling of power, to be more than human, but for her, it was just the feeling of being inadequate, of not being enough, that just that little bit more could have saved them.

But it never stopped her, she would do it again if she could, always again. The people deserved saving, as flawed as they were, as puny as they were in the grand scheme of things. Because if you stopped caring about the people… then what was the Imperium? It was of the people, to stop caring for the people was to stop caring for the Imperium.

That was the bitter truth of it all. Accept them in all their broken glory, there was no picking and choosing.

And now? And now her Primarch was asking her why it was that the world was broken, why it was that things did not make sense. Why it was that she could not have her confectionary made from sweet bread and eat it too.

"Prim. What is it you want. What is the most basic thing you want?" Mitchelli asked, patting the Primarch on the head, the way the little bushes, or rather rocks around her ebbed and flowed as she did was far too enjoyable not too. Like a little popup doll.

"I... I just want to live a happy life. Without all of this responsibility, without any of this power, without any of this… this… knowledge. I just want things to go back like they were before, before I had to save the world. Why me? What did I do to deserve this Mitchelli? Why?"

"Well, so would I Prim, if I could go back and met my younger self, I would have told her to stay home that day, to not go near the Sojourner station," Mitchelli said… with feeling.

"But… but you are a Space Marine. You're super strong and powerful." The Primarch said, staring at her.

"So I am, but at what cost little Prim, I have the power, what comes with this power little Prim? What is the cost?" Mitchelli asked, sounding just a little tired.

"It… it… it comes with responsibility?" The Primarch tried to avoid using the quote Mitchelli could tell, it was such an overused little tidbit, but it was overused for a reason.

"Yes little Prim, yes it does. You have the power, you have the responsibility. The more you have, the more responsibility you will get in return. Why does the God Emperor of Mankind sit on the Golden Throne, why does he suffer through the agony of having his soul shattered for every single second of every single day? Why does he do that little Prim, why doesn't he just give up? He would die, and what happens then? He can just escape from all this, to get out of the suffering."

"Because he can?" The Primarch asked, her statement turning into a question halfway through.

"Are you sure? Here, I will demonstrate for you little Prim. I will give you the feeling of about one one-thousandth of what the Emperor is feeling every single second of the day for every day of the last ten thousand years. Do you want to feel this?"

She looked a little undecided but likely thought it was going to be nothing, just something to shrug off.

Mitchelli hid her grimace, she hated doing this, but the Primarch needed to learn.

Taking the Primarch's hand in her own, Mitchelli focused and sent a jolt to the Princess' soul, the same kind that was used to "stimulate" the Caretakers who had returned from their Sojourn, on a much larger scale of course. Too much of this and their souls would quite literally shatter for they were weak, not like the God Emperor.

"UUHUFHDUHFASGGHHHHUUUUFFFFU" Came the muffled scream. The pain was so much that the Primarch had clenched her teeth automatically the scream coming out between gritted teeth… and was that a little bit of tongue? The entire body arched and tense enough to shatter the bed from where her foot had curled up underneath it.

Mitchelli cradled the listless Primarch, waiting for her to return to her senses.

"Well little Prim, now why do you think he does what he does? Remember that the pain is on the level of your soul, you cannot ever get used to it. Trust me, I would know." Mitchelli asked, rubbing her hand down the Princess' back.

"I… I. He. He does it because he… he… he wants to protect humanity?" Little Prim asked, sounding like she was trying to give the right answer to the teacher instead of actually believing it. Her breath was still hard, panting in the aftermath, little aftershocks running through her body.

"Yes, that's why. He does it because he wants to protect humanity. He does it because he loves humanity. What if you had to endure that much pain unless your father was in danger of dying, what would you do little Prim." Mitchelli asked, changing tack half-way through. She needed another angle of attack she could see.

"I would do it." The Primarch answered.

"For 10,000 years?"

"Yes."

"Now why do you think the Emperor of Mankind does what he does? That he endures this every single moment of his existence?"

"Because he cares."

"Yes, Taylor. Because he cares. He has the power, he has the responsibility, but what is more… he cares. As for you little Prim, why do you feel so bad that you have to wage war and kill people?" Mitchelli asked, bringing it around full circle.

"I… Because I care?"

"Yes. Correct. You care little Prim, you care which is why you feel so bad about all of this. Now, why do you think the Emperor of Mankind led a crusade against his own planet and killed billions of people in the Great Crusade?"

"It… He… no. He… He cared?"

"Yes, it was the most efficient way to protect all of humanity Taylor, it was the way that was needed to take over the galaxy and to make it safe again Taylor. He killed billions so that quadrillions could be safe in the future. His responsibility to the future won out over how much he cared. Now ask yourself about what you need to do Taylor."

"I...I… But I don't want to. This isn't Terra, this isn't some kind of post apocalyptic wasteland, it doesn't need me conquering all of it! I… I can do this peacefully!" Little Prim looked so adamant and Mitchelli considered that she might need to experience what war was actually like, a way to temper her opinion.

A desire for cooperation was good and all, but it was also a liability, a way for her enemies to exploit her naivete.

"Who is to say that you cannot conquer and also save lives, Taylor? You are the Primarch, you are the power of the Emperor of Mankind manifest in this world. Your word is will, your will is power, your power is reality. Make the world as you see fit, do not allow others to tell you otherwise, it is unbecoming of a Primarch to be at the mercy of the opinion of others little Prim. Stand on your own feet and make your words come true. You care for the people, you want them safe, then by your two hands make it so."

"I… I will. I will do whatever it takes." She said sounding tired, sounding let down, old.

"Do whatever you need to little Prim, save the world, we are here to pick up the slack. If you fall we'll pick you right up again, it's what we're for."

"Thank you Mitchelli. I… I just didn't know what was going to happen. I thought it would be like the movies and it would all just… happen."

"Well, now you know. Trying to save as many lives as you can is not a negative little Prim, it's beautiful. Just know that you have responsibilities as well. Sacrifice is necessary as much as we hate the idea."

"Why is Maxine so… so…" She fumbled slightly, not finding the words.

"So callous with human life even though she cares about you so much?"

"Yes. That."

"She is of the Orders Hospitaller, Dialogues and Famulous, she has seen into the depths of humanity and has done so for every day of her adult life. She has seen the depths of which we humans sink Taylor and it has warped her. She cares because you are you, she is willing to kill for the same reason. If you were raised by the gangs in this city, how would you be like when you are older?"

"I… I would... Thank you. That… that explains a lot. I'm sorry about this."

"Don't be. It's what I'm here for. Get some rest little Prim, we've got a big day tomorrow. And remember, Maxine cares about you, don't ever forget that."

Mitchelli left the room, thinking hard.

The Primarch was innocent, she was naive, she was caring. She was everything the other Primarchs were not except maybe Vulkan but he was always ready to exterminatus worlds if he needed to. It was going to be difficult for her, but if she kept her resolution, she might bring the change that the Imperium needed.

A little… conflict might be necessary, however, to harden or shatter the Primarch's resolve. Better now than when it truly mattered.

Just what enemy would be so convenient as to show up for the Princess to punch it a few times? My awful Omake... which i promised earlier.

3 most high-ranked Russian capes (all all of them was ministers) gathered for unexpected meeting. They gathered here in this secret place in south capital-city of Russia - Sochi to discuss unbelievable – The Princess. Unbelievable, but real.

They was known under nicknames Darth Putin (prime-minister, he was not the mightiest among Russian Thinkers, that was Alexander with his bullshit "Never lose" power, but he was just the best. That`s it.), Lavr (Minister of foreign affairs, secretly secretive Master, and among his enemies no one suspect what he was parahuman) and Yoda (minister of defense. He wear this nickname because he was the oldest and greatest russian hero among living. And because when Disney rage about copyrights it was like: Disney "How dare you use that name! It`s tyranny!" and Yoda was like "And who can stop me?" after he was mightiest known telekinetic in Russia who can avert tsunamis and stop earthquakes and toss airplanes and torn apart armies of small countries like Georgia`s (not the State of America)). They was the only parahumans along the highest ranks of Russian government. But that was enough.

Their assistants prepared for them summaries about wh40k-universe and updated it after Interviews. And Tour.

And now they must decide what to do.

- Well, - started Darth,- This is rather grim. And dark. But it`s a potential future.

- You all know the truth,- said Lavr,- We struggle, we survive, we have 20 years until civilization crumble, 100 years until humanity dies… We tried everything! We even burn Moscow to get one of them! And still… it`s not enough.

- I know,- said Yoda,- we all know. We all was there, when…

They sat in a silence for some time reliving that pain and in case of Darth his trigger-event.

- But now, there is hope,- said Lavr.

- Also that mean what we most bow to some Conqueror of the world and Russia crashed such humans many times for the last thousand of years,- said Yoda with some disgust.

- It`s not like that,- said Darth,- It`s more than that. It`s Destiny. In wh40k canon Emperor rise from the last piece of Russia. It is our far far future…

- It was in another universe!

- But in ours we are already very much Imperium. We have double-headed eagle and other stuff, especially with our tinkers, hell, the only thing we really lacks for a full match is The Emperor.

- And in ours we can get better, younger and prettier version,- joked Lavr.

- This is not a joke,- deadpanned Darth, and then smiled,- It`s a truth.

- Is it inevitable?- asked Yoda.

- Yes. It a simple choice really. All predictions says that. There is only two ways for us. Join her now with chance to be executed later, or be executed later when she crush us. We`ll die in any case, but in this… in this we can make our country great again, as the first to join Imperium. To reach our inevitable Destiny with minimum of bloodshed.

- Our potential partners from the West will not like this,- notice Lavr.

- It is stupid to fight Destiny,- answered Darth.

- Especially when you precognitive and can choose the better one,- laughed Yoda.

- And how we make Her notice us?- asked Lavr.

- I read those materials and I found the way… okay, some random guy in the internet found it, he was a geek, he already in my staff. I employed him, after noticed him in the Internet. And I improved his idea. And we will make it real. We will sworn our loyalty to her, we invite her to rule us and we pay her Tithe even before this so she will notice us.

- And what this Tithe will be? We are poor country, we don`t have money… we don`t have imperial money! Our technology is laughable for Mechanikuses… And she get our land in any case with the rest of the world, no matter what we`ll choose.

- We really have only one thing what the all other countries lacks,- slowly said Yoda.

- Yes, the strongest army on the planet.

- Hell, even our registered parahumans joins army… and they there very much like psykers in the Imperium. In times when in other countries money was spilled on PRT and analogs, we makes our Army stronger!

- And we will pay Tithe like Krieg. We`ll send our best to fight for Humanity. After all, this is what they wanted.

- Yes, I read reports about climate in Army. They already in mass itched to join Imperium and serve to the Emperor. For the Emprah!- Darth cough,- It was quotation. After all, you also feeling this. Our people, after death of Stalin aka Red Emperor just awaited for a new worthy Dynasty, fourth time in known history. And who can be worthier than Primarch? We can go against will of people and die, or go with it. Thee answer is obvious.

Lavr laughed.

- We`re all doomed, aren`t we?

- Yeap. But it is not the cause to surrender. It`s the cause to overcome. Also, with her we will have the real chance to avenge Moscow and kill Endbringers.

The best of the best was gathered across the country. They formed the new Regiment. The First Russians. They was given the best weapon what was created in Russia and special new uniform. They even go parade ( JoyReactor - смешные картинки ) under Red Square in the cold ruined radioactive heart of Russia - Moscow and all country was bid them farewells. They will never return and they know it. But the Duty stands above all.

They go for the ships right from parade. Of course all ships were tinker-tech. They was Silent Armada, the creation of the naval Tinker.

(Yes, Moscow is also the port and through canals it`s possible to go into 7 different seas from Moscow)

Soon, Silent Armada bring them over the sea to their destination… to their new Princess. To their Destiny.

Last edited: Nov 29, 2016

29

Centergg

Nov 24, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 23

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 25, 2016

#255

Panacea looked around the room that she had been dropped in with a tiny bit of fear.

After the tank had gotten out of the area, it seemed like they had forgotten that she was inside of it in the first place. Which made the exit rather terrifying in all honesty when there were multiple people all shouting at her, asking what it was she was doing there in the kind of voice that told her she was in big trouble.

Fortunately for her, the Princess had been within earshot… and she had claimed her? Had an escort take her to this room where she was now just waiting… for something to happen. She couldn't even analyse the ones who took her here, they were the ones with the gas masks and the complete coverup of their bodies, gloves, coats, boots, helmet, all of it hiding the individuals underneath.

It was actually very strange seeing them, the way that a person would cut themselves off from the world in such a manner being… very strange. It was the only word that she could use that didn't sound as if she were insane. The way that there was a person underneath all that, that they would all choose to be exactly the same, the way they had decided that the best course of action would be to pretend that they had no individuality at all.

At least the ones without the shirts that she had seen were different… even if they were all the same looking when it came down to it. The way they walked around in front of her did nothing to provoke the sensations that other girls might have experiences, for her it was all the same, proteins, vitamins, and who knew what else was in these people. The fact that they were all… different was something that was worrying her currently. What exactly was it about these people that made it so that their very genetic structure was different?

Was it something that affected all of them or was it just the Primarch that was afflicted by a case of the "missing DNA fragments"?

She wanted to touch a few of them to check, but she wasn't sure how she could phrase it without seeming to be insane.

"Please sir, can we initiate skin to skin contact? I assure you that I am not insane, I am a functioning member of society and am totally not insane. Trust me on that one." Right, that's going to work. There was also the pesky fact that came with her patient confidentially clauses, the need to make sure that everything was on the up and up, or above board, what if this Primarch took over the justice system and sued her later?

Sure it was a little far-fetched, but when someone was missing crucial bits of their DNA, the stuff that defined the resting muscle density if there was no growth or loss, or the pigment that the skin should be, the way her voice should sound like, her gender, all of it was missing. The only time she had seen similar was in certain kinds of chemical weapon attacks, where the reagents deleted parts of the individual's DNA.

It was disconcerting and it was consuming her mind. The all-powerful need to find out what the hell was going on driving her to maybe… just maybe commit a crime. Her interest had been peaked and there would be no getting away from this, she had to find that answer, her powers demanded it.

Stepping forward, she grinned slightly, hand raised to knock on the door. It was a slightly maniacal grin, one that spoke of her ill intent, of her desire to do nefarious deeds, one that could not be trusted, not if you were intelligent, or at least partially intelligent.

Looking far too much like a cat that was about to get the cream, Panacea pushed her hand forward slightly, one final little worm of her consciousness telling her to stop. The one that said if she annoyed these people, she would get shot and the Manton effect meant she couldn't use her power on herself. That wasn't how it worked.

If she was shot by those weapons, there would be no getting up again after, she had seen the autopsies, the after action reports and the bodies. Or rather she had seen what was left of the bodies when they had been delivered to the hospital's morgue. The damage was done through the way that the water underneath the skin flash-boiled, or rather it turned into steam, vaporized.

This in turn, meant there was a large balloon of gas that desperately wanted to get out of the body, on that had a very convenient hole created by the heat of the laser, allowing it to escape out. This in turn, created intense heat and a large hole in the body caused by the expulsion of the steam, burning and damaging everything in the way. Which generally looked to be most of the limb in question.

What was worse when there wasn't direct skin to be fired at, if there were pants or something of that nature, then the skin might not receive enough heat to be burned through. Rather what would happen was that the water in the body part still flash boiled, but there was no convenient route to escape from. In other words… it exploded, taking the limb while it was at it. On one hand, Panacea could heal wounded limbs, it was another factor entirely to re-attach an arm and a leg that were half the size they should be, that needed much more biomatter than was present unless the person was morbidly obese or had just that much extra muscle (which was worrying in itself).

Despite knowing these details, her power still demanded that she ask how it was that they had chunks missing from their DNA.

She wasn't going to be using this information… she just wanted to know. Perfectly safe, perfectly reasonable. There was no ulterior motives here, it was an insult to even suggest that she might be trying to do something nefarious with their biological data.

As Panacea was about to knock on the door, what happened next left her rather… embarrassed and also depressed.

The door opened on its own and what came through was a… girl? She was wearing her sleeping clothes from the looks of it. Her body was in perfect shape a quick touch showed Panacea, but at the same time, she had a look in her eyes that did not reassure her on just how things had gone for her, whatever it was that she had been doing in the first place.

Panacea felt the apprehension that she felt from being here increase again, especially after seeing the grin on the girl's face. Like she knew something that Panacea didn't.

"I'm Lisa, you're Panacea?" She said, extending her hand for Panacea to get a firmer grip than the light feather touch she had used before. The grin telling her that her little attempt at subterfuge had failed and the girl knew exactly what it was she just tried to do.

Panacea tried not to panic a little, it wasn't like she had bad intentions, it was just… she needed to heal someone. Being locked here without anything to put her hands on and help was taking its toll on her. Especially now that she was blocked from trying to discover more about the condition regarding the missing genetic information.

Seriously, how did one function without a red blood cell that was not programmed to carry oxygen? How did that even work? What was the point? Who would even do that?

"So… why are you here?" Asked Lisa, sitting down at one of the chairs in the room. All the chairs she noted were bolted down, perhaps preventing people from picking them up and attacking the guards with them? If that was the case it was a very dangerous and strange case. Perhaps this was a holding cell of some kind?

"I was at the Boardwalk and they, the Princess' Guard were attacked by Lung, they evacuated and I was with them… I think. The Princess just grabbed me and dragged me inside. Now… now I'm here and I don't know what it is I'm supposed to be doing." Panacea said, not a small amount of frustration in her voice as she did so. She shouldn't be here, she had a shift at the hospital to be there for. "How about you?" She continued, reflecting the question back at the girl as she sat there, legs crossed, arms folded, defensive. Her eyes guarded, haunted even.

"I was alerted by a few of my alarms going off, the intruders were the Catachans. I set myself up so I could greet them, was taken here, they were about to torture me and the Princess saved me. I owe my life to that girl, don't even know if she even cares." Lisa said, sounding a little bitter as she did so.

"Wait, they kidnapped you? Just like that?"

"Not quite. They found out I was one of the ones who tried to hack into their link when they and Piggot were talking. They traced me somehow." Lisa waved one of her hands, shaking her head at the same time. As if she was desperate to try and clear the record.

"Oh. I'm sorry…?" Panacea wasn't sure what one said in this situation. Sorry that she had been caught or sorry she was trying to hack the secure feed, to begin with? That wasn't something someone should do.

"Don't be. It was my fault. Just didn't expect these Engiseers as they call them to be so good when it comes to technology." Lisa grumbled, bringing a small smile onto Panacea's face. They were good with a lot of things, weren't they?

She remembered the way the ground had shaken immensely as the tank got onto the main road. She had asked what was going on and they had let her look outside, what she saw… was amazing. A giant robot that was keeping up with the tank as it sped through the city, nudging cars out of the way.

The walking giants for their part ignored the cars and just walked either on the side or danced between the cars, avoiding crushing one of them even by accident. If they weren't in the way of the tank, of course, those that were… didn't fare so well.

It had given her an appreciation for the scale of the technology that the Princess' Guard was using and the way they were using it showed just how important the Primarch was to them. Willing to use their valuable pieces of technology just to give an escort to their Primarch no matter if the rest of the world found out about them.

That and the Engiseers were really good with technology.

"What are we doing here?" Panacea asked, feeling rather uneasy. She was inside of the room after all and it was getting to her. The way she couldn't escape, the way that there looked to be some kind of objective that they needed her for.

"Soul Binding. For me, I have the choice of binding my soul to the Primarch or being shot in the head. Simple really." Panacea could do nothing but stare at Lisa.

"Pardon?" She sputtered out.

"I am going to die if I don't swear eternal service to the Primarch," Lisa said, sounding rather… resigned to the fact.

"That's horrifying."

"No, what was horrifying is what they were planning to do to me if I hadn't accepted the offer from the Princess in the first place." Lisa said, grinning at her, a vulpine grin that spoke of how much she was enjoying the experience of disconcerting Panacea.

"What? What were they planning to do?" Asked Panacea, quietly, not sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

"Torture my dear Panacea, torture. That Maxine that all the boy have been jerking over on the internet? She's an extremely accomplished expert when it comes to torture, it was her job for a while." Lisa said, her eyes deadly serious.

"Don't annoy her if you possibly can." She said, staring right into Panacea's eyes.

All she could do in turn was nod dumbly, or rather smartly, she wasn't going to be annoying the crazy woman.

Panacea was about to answer the girl when the door opened again. This time there was not a Ward, but rather what looked to be the Primarch herself, looking rather apologetic as she walked into the room.

"I'm sorry that you had to be locked into this room like this Panacea, it's just that I didn't know they were going to treat you like this." She said, sounding as if she actually cared. Which according to the gossip around the hospital, she did. Interesting to know that this time the rumours were in fact close to the truth.

"I've taken the liberty of providing a transport for you out of here, if you would please follow the Sergeant out, he will take you to Hangar Bay 009 where there is a Chimera waiting for you." She continued, looking rather apologetically at her.

"What about Lisa here, what are you going to be doing to her?" Panacea said, standing up and looking at the Primarch in the eye, daring her to do whatever it was she planned and killing the girl.

The Primarch for her part looked sad, resigned even.

"Either she binds her soul to mine… or Maxine will kill her," she said, her eyes looking as if they were tearing up.

"I… why? Why would they do something like that!?" Panacea cried, the… medic(?) in her horrified at the casual dismissal of life.

"Because I'm a threat to them, or at least I can prove to be a threat to them if I'm left outside without anything to watch over me," Lisa interjected, pushing Panacea gently out of her way, looking apologetically at her as she did so.

"What do you mean you are a possible threat? They are just going to kill you because you are a possible threat!?" Panacea looked like she was going apoplectic at that.

"You have to remember Panacea that they kill unbound Capes back in their universe. They call us psykers over there and we are one of the largest threats to the entire galaxy if left unchecked. Just killing us makes some sense if you look at it through those eyes." Lisa murmured.

"But this is not their universe, this is different, this is Earth Bet!" Panacea rebutted her.

"But can you say that isn't true? What is the most destabilising force in the country right now?" Lisa asked, sounding more tired than ever.

"It… it's the Endbringers!" Panacea managed after a moment of thought.

"The Endbringers just come and destroy a city every now and again, Panacea, what is the most constant destabilising threat?" Lisa asked her, staring into her eyes.

Panacea moaned slightly, her face twisted into a grimace. She knew where this was going, what was the actual answer, the one that she desperately did not want to be true. It invalidated her own attempt to find the answer, or at the very least made it so much harder for her answer to be the legitimate one. She knew what she could do if given the outlet, what it was she could do with her powers, what it was that was possible if her creations were to go out of control.

All of it, she knew all of it.

"You know the answer Panacea." She said smiling a little sadly before pushing her out of the room. As the door shut behind her, Panacea whirled to try and get back inside but it was too late. The soldiers were standing in front of it and she didn't want to try and break past them, she wasn't sure what they would do to her if she tried.

But… but it was like she was going to let it go unchallenged.

Panacea resolved herself to prove Lisa wrong, or at least prove that she was wrong in this particular instance.

As she was escorted down to the hangar, out and away from the base itself, Panacea was left with the nagging feeling that maybe things were different, maybe she could try to do something, something else with her power. An outlet, a way for her to prove that she was worth more than what Lisa had said she was. A destabilising influence?

No. She was going to prove her wrong.

"You did something to her didn't you?" Lisa asked the woman standing before her. Unmasked this time, her face uncovered face doing nothing for her powers.

Perfect

Yes, thank you powers. I really needed that information. Really great you are, maybe next time I will ask you what you think of her fashion choices.

Terrible

Yes, thank you captain obvious.

As her power decided to play favourites, Lisa looked back at the Primarch, the one that had just saved her from being made into tartare. In a brief moment of insanity, Lisa wondered what would be worse, that she was going to be made into tartar, or that it was going to be thrown away.

Or maybe being made into anything was fucked up and maybe she shouldn't consider the positives of it.

"Yes. She… she is hurting. It's like she is on the verge of falling apart and I needed to just… give her a nudge back the other way. She helps so many people, can't I help her some?" The Primarch said, stuttering slightly, the polar opposite of the woman that had burst into the chamber where she was about to be carved up and shut down her captor.

It looked like she was more multi-faceted than Lisa had thought would be possible, something that was much more interesting than what she had thought previously. A single faced, boring little paragon of humanity was infinitely worse than the woman standing in front of her now.

As for Lisa, she was thinking to get away from the idea that maybe everything wasn't as great as it could have been. Getting away from the idea that she would always be subservient, unable to live her life, unable to ever be free. Whether it be from the leash around her neck or the guilt at the death of her brother. All of them, dragging her down, dragging her to places where she didn't want to be.

And… and sometimes she just wanted to just… not be here, not anywhere. Just somewhere where she could just be a nobody, no powers, just…

Oh.

She felt the calm, felt the way that everything just eased slightly. The memories going just a little further away, enough to give her space, the feeling of oppression, the way the air felt like it was trying to choke her simply stopping. The comfort, the feeling that she was… home. That she was safe.

Opening her eyes again she felt herself staring into the collarbone of the Primarch, who was now hugging her rather tightly. Something that was rather funny looking no doubt, the tall Primarch having to stoop down to make sure she was held securely, every inch of her front pressed against that of the woman.

Lisa let herself go for a moment, enjoying the feeling that was that of the hug, one that washed away her pain, her worries. She knew that this was something incredibly dangerous, that it was likely something that could get the Primarch declared for the Birdcage if she wasn't the Primarch in the first place, being able to change memories, being able to alter emotions? Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

Still, if this was what she had to look forward to while being bound to the Primarch… then it wasn't so bad. It certainly wasn't freedom, but it also wasn't the torture that she had thought might be possible. The Primarch was just too damn nice for that. OR rather she wasn't nice… she was good. She was a good human being.

She didn't need her powers to tell her that.

And that was her memories being altered, wasn't it?

How dangerous, but she just couldn't bring herself to care. Dangerous, far too dangerous. She was going to need to educate the Primarch on exactly what it was she could and couldn't do with the people of the world. Not unless she wanted herself declared the enemy of the world at least.

"I'm sorry about this. Are you sure you want to bind yourself to me?" She asked. Ridiculous really, she had already changed Lisa's mind, why was she asking permission to do it?

"Yes. Yes, you can do it." Lisa said, her voice steady, no doubt more of the Primarch's work.

"Ok. It's my first time. I'll try to make it as painless as possible." She murmured softly, getting back up and holding Lisa's face in her hands, each one cupping a cheek.

"Just get it over with," Lisa said, 100% aware of the potential joke, not sure that the woman even realised what was happening.

"Ok, I'm going in."

And it was a moment.

A moment as if she was no longer in her body, but… disparate, floating, different somehow. As if all the worries she had felt, all the pain, all the worldly matters that had been concerning her before now were nothing at all. Instead what she felt was something warm curling around her waist, her chest, her neck, her arms and legs. It was a lock of some kind, a binding. How she knew that Lisa didn't know but it didn't hurt at all, if anything it felt… peaceful. The feeling that there would never be a moment in her life where she could be this peaceful again ringing through her mind.

And then it was over. The moment gone, Lisa once again back in her body. Only… only this time on her right hand she could feel the stigma that marked her as Taylor's. The Primarch's name was Taylor, a Taylor Hebert. How did she know that?

Oh, it was the soul binding, only this wasn't how it was meant to happen was it?

"Why?" Lisa asked.

"I gave you an equal binding, one where we share instead of I take and you give. It's not your fault that we have to do this, I don't want to punish you for it." She said, smiling at her.

A girl that was even younger than she was, a girl that hadn't gotten her powers more than 4 months ago was treating her as if she was… an equal. Usually, that would be a given, she was Lisa Wilborn, also known as Tattletale, if she was not at least an equal, she was quite definitely superior.

Yet this Taylor, this Princess had powers on such a level that Lisa wasn't even sure that the girl herself recognized what she was capable of. So much untapped strength, so much potential, all of it slowly sinking in.

Lisa understood so much now. About why the Guard were here, why the Primarch had not shown herself before now, why the Guard had reacted so badly when it was found to be her spying on the conversation of Maxine with Director Piggot. It was because she was still an infant, still, something that was barely at all there in terms of capability and power, unable to even live up to her full potential until she grew old enough.

Vulnerable.

Her armies were limited even further, what had been seen on the Livestream was quite literally her entire army. A gamble that not even Tattletale had noticed, genius really.

Now that she was bound to the girl, not even a woman, she was 16 years old if that. A girl that was going to get all of the help that she could possibly give, she had given her a life again and she was going to repay that if it was the last thing she did.

How much of that was the changing of her memories and how much of it was because she genuinely felt that way Lisa didn't know. But at the very least part of it was genuine.

Life was certainly strange, being bound quite literally in soul was the most freedom she had ever experienced.

While she didn't get powers, part of Taylor's power leaked through, giving her strength that would eventually culminate in a Brute rating.

Tattletale the brute, heh, PHO didn't know that, did they?

69

George12

Nov 25, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 24

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George12

George12

OAMU

Nov 25, 2016

#256

"So. Anyone care to explain to me what it was that I just had to watch?" Piggot asked, her voice indicating that she would very much like answers to what she had just seen from the projector, not what she was looking at in Assault's face, nor why it looked like Armsmaster was having a near orgasmic moment. No, she preferred to keep at least a little distance from the heroes even if the way they just invited questions from their behaviour hammered at her self control.

But no.

The projection, the whys, the 'what the fucks' implicit in the situation demanded from her answers.

And so it was that the assembled heroes and Wards that had been deployed following news of the Princess being outside had been dragged back to this very room, kicking and screaming in some cases. All of them being taken back here with the expectation that they would cough up answers. Or Piggot would stare at them and then they would cough up answers. Either way, she was not picky, answers she wanted, answers she would get.

Like why the fuck was Lung fighting the Princess in what looked like a beach tournament setting?

Piggot had temporarily unlimited her swear jar, she felt the situation called for it. It took a tremendous act of insanity for her to do this, contained inside was the bitterness and anger of an old woman, a very very irritated old woman.

Why the fuck had the Princess then created some kind of giant glowing flower that had a master effect of some kind to it.

Why the fuck did she have a bodyguard that had the dimensions of a Space Marine?

Why the fuck had the heroes does exactly nothing?

Why the fuck had they floated around in the air instead of perhaps… trying to stop Brockton Bay being turned into a very literal crater where all their loved ones had been sucked into the unreality that was the Warp?

Why the fuck had she evacuated when it looked like E88 vans were en-route?

Why the actual fuck did she have a Mobile Suit Escort that paraded itself through half of her city?

Piggot took a deep breath. She put the lock back on the swear jar. It would defeat the purpose of the swear jar if she unlocked it every time she needed to vent after all.

No. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

Her stare down the table was a power in an of itself. If one had to rate it, perhaps an Intimidation rank 7. Despite looking at none of them directly, her gaze perfectly straight ahead, it somehow branched in the air to strike at each of their eyeballs directly.

That despite them looking at her from an angle of 180 degrees in 2 of their cases, that it felt as if the full weight of her stare was being levelled on them. It was… terrifying for the Wards in particular who had never been on the receiving end of what would later be dubbed the "death state", doomed to forever live in their memories, sealed in a cast-steel box.

There were no answers, they being too scared to even open their mouths if they even had an answer. It was not often that something like this happened, Piggot understood after all that silent threats were best carried out periodically… if only to keep them fresh.

Piggot expressed her dissatisfaction by tapping her finger on the table one carefully manicured finger that was done slightly… different from the rest. This one was curved, a bit thicker, a bit more durable. It stood out and nobody really knew why it was like that. Until the tapping.

One.

Two.

Three.

…

Four.

It was a devious tactic, one no doubt learnt from the Russian Spetznaz. Every few taps would be rhythmic, done in sync to some kind of beat, only then when you were expecting a regular tap, there came one out of tune, immediately after that of the preceding one, or a pause where there should have been a tap and then one directly after. A discordant feeling that only intensified as she continued to tap, as she continued to stare. It created in them a feeling or wrongness, that something was breaking, that being their minds. Their human minds that demanded they find patterns in everything they saw, minds that could not handle the tapping, the ungodly tapping. Why was it that it couldn't fucking stay the same?

Stress, it built up stress and they knew it, Piggot knew it, everyone knew it.

Eyes narrowing with each passing second, Piggot continued to stare at the same point on the wall, somehow making it so that the illusion of her stare became increasingly strong in their minds. Even Assault was being affected, squeezing Battery's hand under the table.

Someone would break soon, it was just a matter of finding out who it was.

Piggot didn't mind waiting, they would break, it was just a matter of time. Time that she was going to show to them was waiting, time that kept going and going.

Soon.

"We went out and we saw the fight and… and we did a thing!" Shouted out Clockblocker, his voice high pitched and strained.

"Oh. Is that right? You saw the fight. And you did not feel the need to do anything about it?" Piggot asked, her voice deadly low.

"It was Lung! What were we supposed to do with Lung!" Clockblocker tried to refute.

It was a good one mind you, what were they supposed to do against Lung? The man was a giant beast that took the Protectorate the full breadth of its powers to fight against. Expecting the Wards to do something would be nothing but foolishness. That being said, they should have at least tried, their mission being the safety of the Princess at any cost, because if she was killed then it would be at the final cost.

If it was not the Wards, then she would have expected the Heroes to do their jobs.

Piggot turned to stare at the adult Heroes, the ones that were beginning to fidget slightly, looking worried.

"We arrived at the scene just as the fight with Lung was winding down. The Princess' Guard alerted her to what we assumed was a strike force from the E88, or at least their attempt to open dialogue with the Princess. Regardless it was enough to spook them and they left the area." Armsmaster said, still slightly preoccupied. No doubt his personality predictor was telling him that speaking now was the best option.

"She escaped before we could meet up with her, we were stopped by their Mobile Suits before we could attempt to initiate a conversation."

Piggot felt the urge to slam her forehead on the table. Why was it that the Capes were all soo…. Just… failed humans.

She had wanted them to reflect on the idea that they had screwed up on some kind of manner and that maybe they should pay more attention to the outside world. Sure it was quite clear that they could do very little about actually preventing Lung without causing him to ramp up, but at the same time, they had expected that he be peaceful throughout, not even setting up a proper cordon if she understood the report.

After this all of them would be going into Master/Stranger protocols, the way that the Princess had calmed everyone down indicated a great deal of power over emotions, part of her abilities no doubt. Something that would have to be explored further, the researchers were already poring over the footage that had been put online regarding her interaction with the Toddler. Everything was not going as Piggot had expected it and that was distinctly annoying.

She heaved a sigh and got back to whatever it was that she wanted to do in the first place. Kick them all out, lock them down for Master/Stranger protocols, then just sit back and relax slightly. Ever since the Princess had arrived things had been going off the beaten path and she just wanted a moment to reset her mind.

Lung strode back into his lair where Bakuda and Oni-Lee were waiting for him.

"What was that? Why did you do that?" Bakuda demanded, sounding a little panicked. It made sense, he was Lung, he was the greatest and without him she would have been left in a city that was going to want to dismantle the ABB. She might have her bombs, but the Princess had bigger bombs if his intelligence agents (people on the internet) were correct.

"It was a matter of Face Bakuda. She has the power, this is known. She has strength, this is known. I must show myself, I must challenge her to keep my own Face. A battle of the human body, a battle of equals to demonstrate that I am Lung, I am unafraid to challenge her on her own turns. This is Face, and I have gained much of it from this encounter." Lung said, striding past them and sinking down in the armchair provided for him.

It had been rather irritating when his last one had broke, him being unable to control his hand had crushed the armrest unwittingly and in doing so denied him the comfort of an armchair for nearly an entire hour as the ABB scoured the city to find a replacement. He would have his comfort, he would not be denied, not in this.

"But you lost!" Bakuda called out, striding after him, making sure he noted, that she kept at least an arms distance away from him.

Prudent.

More intelligent than he had given her credit for.

"I lost yes. But I have shown that I am unafraid of challenging her, unlike the Empire who as we speak cower in their little holes. That I have challenged her in a public place, fighting her in the manner she deemed fit, is enough to give me Face and to deny it to those that would naysay me." Lung said, settling back into the folds of the chair, his face one of comfort, of enjoyment, of satisfaction.

The world was once again at peace and his body had healed long ago. There was no more nagging in his side from the ribs that had caved in, skewering his internal organs, puncturing his lungs… heh. It had taken an effort of will to avoid spitting up blood, even more in calling for a rematch, a second round to show that he was not affected by an injury that would have killed a normal man many times over.

He had shown the world he was powerful, he was courageous and he was determined. There would be no avoiding that fact, no avoiding that he was what he had claimed, that he was worthy.

He might not be the strongest in Brockton Bay any longer, the ability of the Princess to kill him explained in excruciating detail by his underlings, but he had shown he was not afraid of her.

The perceived weakness and loss of Face had been staved off and if anything he had emerged from it with more than he had come in with. To put oneself at the mercy of one's enemies without fear, to do so without panicking, to do so while under the threat of death? He had shown the World that he was Lung and he did not fear anyone.

A conclusion that would resound around the world, one that would be imprinted into the Brockton Bay minds. They would know that he was still as powerful as he had ever been, the inclusion of a new force did not change that, nor did it change the fact that he was worried.

Worried about the future of the ABB, his own Face was an issue that was separate from that of the ABB, that they were beginning to fracture from the pressure of the manner in which the docks were under the control of the Princess. They were forced to leave the city to transfer their goods, something that was proving difficult without the warehouses and abandoned housing to hide them.

Something had to give, and soon. What he did… what he was… well, he might have to challenge the Princess for real, and as confident as he was in his own abilities, the Princess had shown to him she had the ability to change his very mind with her flower. Something that was infinitely more dangerous and insidious than mere power.

She would need to be watched.

Last edited: Nov 25, 2016

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Nov 25, 2016

#257

Ellisburg, a place where the twisted dreams became reality through that hands of the one known as James Rinke, also known as Nilbog. A changer, a psyker of power, a route through which the Ruinous Powers most likely tried to enter this reality. A target that had to be eliminated at the first opportunity.

He who might try to recreate the twisted realities of the worlds inside the Eye of Terror was he who was a priority target. The Princess' Guard who discovered his existence made it their mission to convince the Princess that an attack was needed. That they needed to strike out before he in turn, struck at them.

Something that could not be allowed to live. Abominations of the highest order.

The Lord Commissar that had come with the Deathstrike missile launcher carried with him the codes to launch it. They had debated wildly about whether or not to fire a missile at the town, a regular plasma missile. Only for the Princess to veto that decision.

They did not want to provoke anything by firing an intercontinental missile inside of the country. Something about anti-missile defences and irrational responses from organics Hurosius had elaborated. So it was then that the Colonel would lead a purge and burn mission against the town, bringing with her a squadron of Leman Russ', Leos, Death Korps of Krieg infantry, Cadian Shock Troops inside of the tanks themselves... and artillery. Plenty of artillery, what was a campaign without massive levels of artillery?

Further, there were the Kasrkins for the Cadian as infantry, their hotshot lasguns ready to punch through anything that might be considered a target. Which for them, was everything, the town, or what was left of it was a target rich environment.

On the other side were they of the Regiments of Krieg, the Grenadiers who were tasked with clearing the enemy frontline, leading the way with their force of will and relentless assaults. Each unit took proportionally the highest amount of casualties of the Krieg Regiments. Those that survived were promoted to Watchmasters and tasked with leading the various platoons and larger formations. Each Regimental Commander therefore, being the oldest Krieger in the unit. It was these veterans that would form the vanguard that would drive a wedge into Ellisburg, their Lasguns replaced with flamers and shotguns. The enemy would be purged with fire and flame.

Transporting all the forces were the combined might of Konrad the Sanctioned Psyker attached to the Regimental command squad, and the Valkyries charged with dropping the Grenadiers and Kasrkins in, while their heavy lifter counterparts would be ferrying the Mobile Suits to and from the battlefield. Others still would be flying in the Leman Russ', the Hellhound Chimeras, Basilisks, and the Command Chimera that the Colonel would be stationed inside.

All in all, it was a massive deployment of forces for the fledgeling Guard but the fear of chaos incursions was just too high and the combined weight of the Council was enough to sway the Princess' opinion, albeit for different reasons. Lisa, her first, had understood that the creations if Nilbog were not in fact, creations of Slaanesh or Nurgle, but rather were just the mutations caused by Nyborg's power.

What was important however was the fact that if they were successful in destroying Ellisburg and all that inhabited it, they would be proving to the world that they were indeed on the side of good. It would satiate a few of the more hardliners generals demanding action, as well as reignite hope in the public. What was more it would once again put their name in the public consciousness, something that would given time make conquest that much easier in the long run. A peoples that welcomed their presence being much more useful than one that was terrified of them.

And so for the variety of different reasons put forth by her Council, the Primarch Taylor Hebert declared that the town of Ellisburg would be purged by the Guard. The first true offensive mobilisation of the Princess' Guard. The first true mobilisation in general, the taking of the docks with a mere 300 Kriegers did not count, not now when the Princess' forces were increasing by the day, her power increasing as her soul increasingly absorbed the shard that was part of the Emperor's Soul.

She had been reluctant but they had convinced her, downplaying the figures, dehumanising the enemy and emphasising the crimes of the supposed Nilbog. She had been convinced in the end but still highly skeptical, insisting on watching it unfold personally.

The teleportarium had been prepared, the first company of Kriegers moving in to secure the landing zone, others following soon after to establish a heavy equipment landing zone for the Valkyries. The landing zone itself was 5 kilometers to the south of the town. In the main hangar, the Princess was holding court, ready to open a portal under the guidance of Mitchelli to the North of the town for the other half of the vanguard forces. The town would be enveloped, none of the mutants escaping their fate.

A means for the Princess to train her power and to personally see those she was sending to their deaths.

In the alternate hangars, the Valkyries were revving up, each one loaded with either men or equipment. Ready to launch themselves up and towards the landing zones. Those inside preparing themselves for a drop into almost certain death if anything went wrong. Litanies to the Emperor, last minute checks, simple heartfelt prayers, whatever that could help them in their minds.

The Guard were ready and soon it was time for the final preparations. The Valkyries would be detected the minute they were in the air, Hurosius' digging into the local systems had shown him that much. It was therefore in their best interests to alert those that might be affected add to their intentions. A means to avoid something like friendly fire.

It was with some anticipation therefore that Maxine placed a call to her new friend Emily Piggot from the secure communications room courtesy of Hurosius.

Emily Piggot was having a nice week. Nice because of the fact that nothing had happened the entire week. One might call that suspicious, but she was Emily Piggot, she knew that sometimes the gods and fate and everything else met in a single moment at the same place. A place that allowed for them (people like Emily) to take a quiet breather before the gears of reality set into motion and conspired to fuck it all up again.

It was why when her monitor flickered and the words "Nunciate Advance Maxine is requesting an audience" that Piggot almost slammed her head into her desk. Because yes. Because the universe was a cruel piece of shit and sometimes it liked to throw her on the floor and jump up and down on her head.

Piggot sighed and pressed the "Accept" button, readying herself mentally for the news that Maxine was responsible for the disappearance of Thomas Calvert, the other member of the team that had gone in with her into Ellisburg, the man that had always been a little off to her, but had at the very least been another survivor of that particular hell. His disappearance had put her down a response leader, something that would be particularly troublesome in the upcoming weeks when things finally ticked over.

Heaving out a breath before Maxine appeared on screen, Piggot composed herself. She would not look like a fool before this woman, it would be a particularly bad idea, one that might even see her killed at some point. Who knew with the Imperium.

"Good morning Emily! It is good to see you again!" She said, smiling brightly as if her presence was not going to convey some kind of apocalyptic news.

"Good morning Maxine, it is good to see you too." She said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster… which was very little.

"It is a good morning, yes it is. It would be even better without the spawn of Chaos blighting this world would you not agree?" Maxine asked, Piggot thrown for a loop momentarily trying to figure out what exactly she was talking about.

"Ummm. Yes?" She answered, it seemed like the kind of question that the Imperial Guard asked each other on a regular basis. Given from what she had read, it was probably some kind of mental affirmation on the same level as "what if all evil on the world was gone," a conversation starter in other words.

"Good. Good. You will be happy to know then that we plan on wiping out the blight that is known as Ellisburg, it is a place of the greatest of all deviances, a Chaos Sorcerer known as Nilbog lives within this place of unholy ruin and we plan on purging it with fire and flame. He has corrupted the good folk who have called this place home and it is our duty and our honour to banish him to the depths of the Warp in which he belongs." She said. Coming out of left field, slamming through Piggot's complacency, causing her a brief moment in which she had no idea what was happening before her mind rebooted.

"There is no need to thank us, dear Emily, we are doing this out of duty. However, if you could, please tell those of your allies that the attached file includes our flight plan, we do not wish to engage your forces by accident if they wander inside of it do you not agree?" She asked, smiling prettily as if she had not dropped a bombshell that was going to leave its mark on Piggot's mind forever.

Tongue tied by the suddenness of the mental attack, it was all she could do to nod and go along with the proposed insanity. Who knew… this might not be so bad? No, she was lying to herself, it was going to be terrible.

Looking at Maxine she chanced the question, "what?"

Good one Piggot.

Ambushes were unfair when you couldn't outrun them. Dammit Maxine.

"This is Samantha Burns with the BBC here to bring you the latest news right from the frontline." Said the perky (in more ways than 2) news reporter, her British accent bringing a sudden poshness to the setting.

"I am here with Colonel Catherine Knight of the Princess' Guard just outside of the town of Ellisburg that contains the S-Ranked threat known as Nilbog. She is leading the Princess' Guard in what I am to understand is an all out attack on the town to attempt to *ahem* 'purge it of the mutant and chaos spawn'. Do you have anything to say to that Colonel?" She asked, putting the microphone before the woman in her full regalia that was standing outside what looked to be an APC of some kind.

"Please, allow me to correct you. We are not 'attempting' to purge this town of the chaos spawn, we will purge this town. With our fire and flame, they will fall before us and we will reclaim this town in the name of the Princess. There shall be no Chaos on this world under our watch, they of the Ruinous Powers will not gain a foothold in this world while we are here." Said the Colonel, her blazing purple eyes sparkling with the fervour of her words.

"What are your plans? You cannot be thinking of sending your men directly into battle are you?" Samantha asked, her voice carrying with it just the right amount of 'scandalized impression'.

"We shall do this according to Imperial Doctrine when dealing with a heavily infested world. The enemy shall be bombarded with our artillery for to soften them up for the push by our infantry and our tanks into the town. The artillery will continue shelling from the opposite direction of the advance to funnel them into the troops. When inside they are to burn and purge any and all signs of mutation in preparation for the psyker Konrad's purification of the area. We will hunt down the Chaos Sorcerer that is at the heart of this and execute him for his crimes." The Colonel said, clenching her fist to emphasize her point.

"What of casualties? Are you not worried about your troops being killed?" She asked, sounding worried.

"They are the Imperial Guard, the hammer of the Emperor, we fear no death for in death we find our way to His embrace." The Colonel said.

"Oookay."

"Now if you would excuse me, I have a battle to direct." The Colonel saluted before spinning on her foot and re-entering the APC which from the point of view of the Cameraman was filled with monitors and reams of reports.

A place to direct a war it looked like.

Last edited: Nov 26, 2016

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Nov 27, 2016

#268

A battle of the Imperial Guard could be considered to be like an Orchestral track. It began with a small bit of quiet time, a lull in which the audience could seat themselves, could prepare themselves for what was coming next. Waiting for the orchestral members to seat itself, each of them preparing themselves for their own performance.

Then came the first beat that signalled the beginning of the story, the small little sounds of the instruments as they sought to build an atmosphere that seated the story within it. A little of the strings, a little of the beat, a little of the buildup.

The first of these was the small clanking noises as the Basilisks loaded up, the loaders calling out into the sky, shouting to the ammunition bearers that had carried with them pallet upon pallet full of shells for the gunners. It was these that would serve to open up the full play, each of them a crash of the drum, of the gong. Their grunts as they hefted the massive shells into place, each of their muscles straining themselves to show their enormous veins and muscles. They of the Cadian variety had vests, their arms exposed to the open air, getting caught on edges would slow down the firing rate, a serious concern.

Placing them on the auto-rammer, sending the shells into the barrels, packing in the charges to fling the shells further through the sky, sealing the breach, then the wait. Each gun team loading their shell in 10 seconds, a feat to bear mentioning as each was half the size of a man, capable of destroying and killing anything within a radius of 300 meters. The shockwave would quite definitely kill anything within 50 meters, the shrapnel capable of killing those at a range of 300 and more meters, tearing through flesh and bone like it was a grot in front of a power sword.

They were waiting, the time had not yet arrived and the PRT had not yet fully evacuated from their cordon around the town. Their forces were still entrenched around the walls 2 kilometers from the town, 3 kilometers away from the initial staging zones that the Princess' Guard were readying themselves from.

Word had gone out of course, whether or not they would be obeyed was another matter.

"The Princess' Guard are coming here!" Shouted the Communication's officer, his face betraying panic, something rare for those chosen to serve as the quarantine forces for Nilbog. They were the veterans of countless cities and war zones, each of them harder than nails being the colloquial way to describe the men and women.

"What are they planning on doing here?" Asked the Major in charge of the cordon, a man that had under his command 1500 officers, a must considering the size of the town. He cursed the way that America had built its towns, suburban housing stretching out as far as the eye could see, needless miles that only added to the amount of space his men needed to cover.

"Words straight from Director Piggot of the Brockton Bay PRT sir. [The captain nodded at that. Good woman, one of the 2 that had gone into Ellisburg in those first days and emerged alive. She had always been vocal in keeping the complement of men and women around Ellisburg the same when the damned bureaucrats suggesting cutting numbers. Good, woman she was.] The Princess' Guard are here to purge the town with fire and flame." The Communications officer said, his face looking more pale as he read out the words.

"Purging with fire and flame means what exactly?" The captain asked. He had heard about this, of course, something about an interdimensional army coming in and saying something about killing the Endbringers. He hadn't cared as much, he needed actions, not words.

"They are going to invade the town and kill everything in it before burning it all to the ground." Said his adjutant, the man liked to keep with the times, a useful attitude that was.

"And what do they plan to do about us?" He asked, raising his eyebrow at the idea of anyone willingly stepping into the hell that was Ellisburg. He could see it from where he stood, a twisted amalgamation of flesh and concrete, a kind of castle, a kind of disgusting little gate made of flesh that pulsed regularly.

"They are offering to allow us to join them in their offensive, if we don't choose that then they will not engage us unless we engage them first."

"Interesting. What are they bringing with them?"

"Our watchmen have said they've brought tanks and infantry sir, lots of infantry."

"Hold position men, we'll see what they do before we do anything else. Let's not pick a fight with the men with tanks hmm?" The Captain said, looking slightly annoyed at that. How dare they bring tanks into his jurisdiction?

"What about pulling back sir? The men see quite a few artillery pieces there." The Communications officer asked.

"We'll see what they have to say before doing anything." He was damned if he was going to retreat without an offer first. His career did not need the label of coward being slapped all over it, not when he had worked so damn hard to make it otherwise.

"Yes, sir!"

The PRT had received permission from Washington to join in the assault if they let the Princess' Guard lead it in. There was no point suffering casualties that the other side volunteered to absorb for them.

And so it was that the first thud of the drumstick upon the bronze of the gong echoed throughout the country. A moment that was being filmed and broadcast throughout the world through the cameras from the various news networks. There was those of the BBC, CNN, Fox, ABC, and more, each of them sending the message to the home countries that included any and all with a working television. From the helicopters in the air, from the camera crews on the ground, from the handheld phones of those truly adventurous and possibly suicidal.

It was the first offensive action by the hopebringers, the first time they had actually fired a shot in anger, the intervention by the Mobile Suits after the Princess' attack not counting after they had retired without firing a shot. It had been undoubtedly rather awesome, it was also not what was promised when they had the label of 'Imperial Guard' on them, false advertising it was.

The booming sound was of course, the artillery, the Earthshaker cannons the reporters had been told were the standard method by which to fling high explosive death at the enemies of the Imperium. Each shell being as much as a fully grown man, somewhere near 90 kilograms, not including the charges to launch it out in the first place.

It was these cannons that boomed, the name Earthshaker clearly earned as the very ground itself shuddered in response to every single report of the mighty siege engines. Some of those unfortunate enough to be standing close being deafened by the sound and shockwave, those at home with their volumes turned up too high suffered the same punishment, a partial deafening of the ears.

Those networks with helicopters panned over to gaze upon the town of Ellisburg in all of its grotesque glory. A town that looked like that of a medieval citadel, towering ramparts, little clusters of housing, walls, stained glass windows that looked to be made of flesh and stone. All of it spreading over what used to be the town of Ellisburg.

It was into this that the shells fired from the Basilisk Battery smashed themselves, the detonations sending literal shockwaves visible through the camera, through the citadel itself. Fountains of dust, dirt, masonry, and flesh being flung high into the air on plumes of red and pink. There was a brief lull as the cannons reloaded before another salvo was fired, the shells continually tearing apart what had likely taken years to construct by the minions of Nilbog.

As for the Camera crews and those at home, they could only watch in awe as the might of the Imperial Guard's armoured fist was displayed to all those who were watching. The explosions were enormous, each many times that of what even the men in the army were accustomed to seeing. Shockwaves, plumes of dirt, the sheer clenching of the butt muscles as they imagined being on the other side of it all.

There would be no warning, there would be no convenient whistling sound as each shell dropped from the sky. That would come after, when there was nothing but broken bodies and shattered minds in their wake. An insult to add to injury and death.

Massive cataclysmic destruction, nowhere was safe, no-one was safe.

But naturally, this being the Imperial Guard, that was not all.

A loud sonorous chanting filled the air as those who were on the ground diverted their attention to a second set of artillery. This being a set of 4 missiles on a Chimera mount, this being some kind of weapons system that for some reason required an Engiseer at each one chanting, touching lightly at the interface and more chanting, each "word" being in Binary, but not a binary that would be recognized anywhere in the world. 10,000 years of language drift had also affected Binary apparently, the resulting language using a baffling amount of shorthand systems and slang that made no sense to that of the average Earth resident.

As for the missiles, they were called Manticore missile systems, their unreliability meaning that the reporters and home viewers who were versed in the lore, clutched their butt orifices. Each one was notoriously unreliable and the possibility that they would fire into the crowd was low… but not zero.

Regardless, here they were now. Fuelled, armed, willing and it looked like completely ready.

The chanting stopped and the Missiles were angled upward, each one at a slightly different angle, sending them if it was according to their programmed trajectory, into a different target. Whatever it was that was on the other side was going to be experiencing a very very painful brief few seconds before they were vaporized, or shredded, or even possibly melted depending on the exact payload of these harbingers of death.

Then the moment of truth.

A brief hissing sound as those watching tensed further and further… before it ignited, a plume of smoke, a tearing sound filling their ears as the sound barrier was ripped by vengeful hands, and the missiles were into the air, thankfully spinning directly at Ellisburg itself. There were 12 of them in total, the effect of which should if lore was correct, be truly awesome.

And it was. Oh, how it was.

As each missile fell from the skies and impacted in and around the castle, there was nothing for a few seconds. Were they duds? The worry, the fear, it was in their minds.

But it became very clear that they were not duds at all but something much much greater. A truly massive explosion filled the area around each and every rocket, no smoke, just a very large and bright flash followed by a shockwave that nearly knocked the helicopters out of the air itself.

A few of the more knowledgeable reports described the effect as that of a Thermobaric explosion, or a fuel-air bomb, one that seeded fuel into the air, before detonating it in an explosion that sucked all the air out of the surrounding area and could cause buildings to implode. A guess that was proven true when the central structure of Nilbog's citadel caved in on itself following the explosion. Destroying the flesh and biomatter that they of the Spawn of Nurgle required for their foul magics.

For those of the more... organic variety… having your lungs ripped out through your mouth was not an uncommon occurrence, assuming that the head was still attached at all of course. The head being so very weakly joined to the body that it was very often the first casualty, being ripped off and flung to parts unknown.

Meanwhile, the constant explosions of the artillery continued unabated, constant destruction of buildings, of walls, of wells, of anything and everything that might be considered a structure. When the Princess' Guard marched in, it would be over rubble and flesh.

And still the bombardment continued, still, it showed no signs at all of stopping despite the inactivity inside of Ellisburg itself.

Perhaps Nilbog had killed off all of his creations so that they wouldn't be killed by those outside? The final act of a desperate king?

Or was the truth more insidious? That he was preparing for them to enter the town where his forces were waiting in ambush.

The truth was unknown until they actually entered the city, but as of right now, the bombardment had actually gotten rather boring for the reporters and the home viewers, the monotony of complete and utter destruction on the scale that they were seeing got old after 30 minutes of seeing it in action. They had been promised the purging of Ellisburg but what they were seeing was very much not what they had expected.

More tanks, more men, more heroics in battling the evil forces of Nilbog in glorious house to house combat. Sure many of them would die but it would be entertaining.

As it was they were denied… for now.

The final form of the Earthshaker cannon was being unleashed. The finale to the opening act. The Earthshaker shells were being loaded into cannons, 9 bags of charge before the cannons themselves were brought up to an almost vertical angle. Each of the shells contained within it a sub-atomic reactor, the very same reactors used in the Nova cannons employed by the Imperial Fleet, the explosion of which would be many times that of what had been showed previously.

A moment of silence and a prayer to the Omnissiah, and each shell was fired with a final sending off.

Each of them arced upwards into the air, an almost vertical climb.

Up. Up. Up.

A single moment of clarity, of brilliance as they hung there, momentum zero, acceleration zero, velocity zero. A perfect moment when it was still, just waiting on the world, gently turning to point its nose directly at the ground. A ballerina twirling for a captive audience.

Then down. Almost straight down.

Down.

Each of them impacted the ground, each of them slamming into the ground, each of them drilling into the ground. Into the town of Ellisburg that had been reduced to a moonscape with the occasional wall or rock remaining untouched. Down they drilled to a depth of almost 50 meters.

Then they exploded, each and every one of them in a catastrophic explosion that sent half the dirt in the town into the air, turning it quite literally upside down.

Only the Citadel, or what was left of it remained intact… for now.

If there was anything hiding upside down it would now either be dead, or very exposed and soon to be dead.

The sound of tank engines turning on drew the attention of the reporters.

Now… now the Imperial Guard marched to war.

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#269

Lieutenant 93#8219 of the Princess' Guard had the honour of being the among the first to be breaching the town. He did not truly care what was inside of it, he just cared that his orders included the fact that he was to kill everything inside of the town, to burn and destroy any and all bio-mass before leaving enough demo charges that it would destroy a small city in the ruins.

When all was said and done, the only reason that anyone could tell that there had been a town here at all was because of the enormous crater that used to be the town, a testament to the fact that the Imperial Guard had been here and they had not liked what they had seen at all.

They of Chaos would not claim another world, another city, another town, another soul. It would be purged here and now while they were still nascent, still weak.

As for what was going on, the artillery bombardment was still going on, something to be expected really, marching infantry into a Chaos infested town was a surefire way to ensure that there would be nothing but death and damnation of souls. The number of traps, of flesh monsters, of anything and everything that would kill the guardsmen being far too high for a commander to allow it. It was considered unacceptable losses and 8219 considered that the Colonel knew better than he did.

8219 personally did not truly care, but orders were orders. He was not to sell his life this early on. Why he was not sure, it was not as if he was not infinitely replaceable he was a Krieger after all. Replaceable was part of his job description.

He had been a Watchmaster, before that a Grenadier. He had worn the skull mask with pride, understanding that he had lived for too long and it was his time to die. He had served on the front line, into the depths of the enemy lines at the first opportunity, his hotshot lasgun firing with fury, the enemy torn apart by his sword bayonet. He had served and he had survived, given new life as that of the Watchmaster of his squad before being promoted further into platoon lead.

Regardless the Colonel and the Princess had said that he was not disposable nor were the men and women under his control. He was not sure as to what the order to not "waste the lives of the Imperium's Guardsmen," had meant, but he was sure it was important. He would make sure that they only died when trying to accomplish the objective. Under his control was a squad of Grenadiers who were pushing their way to the front of the assault, the tanks would be coming in second to provide the fire support where it was needed. Something more direct and had a faster time to target than the artillery.

As for the regular infantry squads, they were armed with large numbers of grenade launchers and meltas, all the better to disrupt the enemy and to engage any flesh behemoths they encountered, a depressingly common enemy inside the twisted hellscapes that came about due to the twisted perversions of a Chaos Sorcerer.

8219 shook his head slightly to clear the visor a tad, it felt like there had been something that splattered onto it. Maybe some flesh from the artillery? They were a kilometer out which should have meant they were clear of it all.

Regardless he would burn his clothing following this as would they all… if they survived. The taint of chaos could not be allowed to survive.

Looking up he felt his lips curl into a grimace of a smile. They of Nurgle did not learn, did not they comprehend that it was the Imperial Guard now and not some weak and pathetic soldiers local law enforcement? They knew the tricks of Nurgle, of the bio-spores that would seek to infect and destroy those beyond their range. A last attack by a desperate and pathetic enemy.

Even now the Sanctioned Psyker was using his power, a vast thunderstorm over the town, a vast twisting of the air to collect all the impregnation spores into a single wall of wind. It was then that the Hellhounds rode themselves forward, impregnating the twisting air with promethium before themselves igniting it. The entire beast burning with the heat of a thousand suns, the spores dying before they could ever even try to accomplish their duty.

The great enemy had been purged… would be purged.

"Forward March!" Came the voice over his vox operator's speakers. 8219 nodded and raised his hand before bringing it in an arc downward. The forward signal, they were heading into destroy the enemies of the Imperium, the heinous abominations that was chaos spawn. There would be no mercy.

As they walked forward, there was the strange fact to consider, that for some reason, there were very few actual bodies. Usually, when artillery of this scale was employed, it meant that there was a multitude of bodies that would be littering the ground, or at least the parts of bodies that had been blown this way. Perhaps they were closer in?

Or perhaps these chaos spawn were so weak that they had been vaporized? An entertaining thought but not one he took seriously, if it was that easy to destroy the chaos spawn then the Imperial Guard would have already invaded the Eye of Terror.

That they had not spoke volumes.

8219 kept walking forward, his laspistol held in his left hand pointed upward as the standard operational protocol stated it should be held. His right held his power sword, already powered on, pointed downward to the ground, it wouldn't do to accident kill one of his own men.

So far there had been nothing, but considering that they had not managed to get into the main town as of yet, it was likely not a cause for concern as of yet.

Ah.

There were the bodies. Truly these were the spawn of chaos. Scantily clad female forms with tails and skin of azure blue, targets all of them. Well, it was time for them to begin the operation then. They had to be purged, mere sight of them would taint lesser men.

"Burn it all," 8219 said, turning his head slightly so that when the flamethrowers began to roar, the promethium igniting with a heat that he felt through his greatcoat, his mask lenses wouldn't reflect the light into his eyes. The Grenadiers stepped forward and lowered their flamers, the loud whooshing noise as the ignition took what was readily available oxygen and turned it into flame, blue hot flame that hit the bodies and cooked them alive, continuously burning until they would be nothing but charred carbon.

There would be nothing left for the flesh monsters to feed on, every scrap of flesh was to be burned, even their own corpses. Complete denial of resources for the enemy.

"Target 11 O'Clock!" Called out one of the Grenadiers, the shambling figure that was coming toward them resembling one of the Lord of Change's charges. Tall, spindly, with arms that stretched to the knees and a skin of alabaster with spikes at the joints. A parody of an insect no doubt.

"Engage all targets at will." 8219 said, firing at the beast with his laspistol to demonstrate exactly how to go about it.

Crack Crack Crack

The sound of the evaporating moisture in the air marked the exact point in time that his pistol fired. The shots glancing off the creature.

"Lasgun fire ineffective. Grenades." Called out one of his squad leaders, no doubt noticing the complete lack of damage brought about by the laser weapons."

"Grenades firing." Came the return call, the Kriegers holstering their rifles and bringing up their grenade launchers, the dull popping noises of the grenades being fired filled the air, the explosions that bracketed the beast as it continued unabated forcing a change in strategy. It swayed in tune of the shockwaves but nothing happened to it, the shrapnel seemingly vanishing from the air.

"Meltas!" 8219 called out. A pair of Kriegers obeyed, one of them rushing at the beast, firing with a lasgun to distract it while the second rushed in close enough to fire the weapon. Only as the first of them got close, one of the arms lashed out, extending dramatically to skewer the Krieger through the chest, killing the man instantly. The second arrived and dove to avoid the lashing of the other arm, raising the Melta and vaporizing half the beast, from the hips and up. That did it, more manpower intensive than he would have liked, another method would have to be considered when dealing with the changelings. Possibly the flamers but it was a risk, if they could be redirected then they would only serve to give the enemy ammunition.

Measures would need to be taken, if the enemy was vulnerable to heat but not to direct fire then the composition of the attackers would need to be changed. 8219 shook his hand at the platoon, them immediately changing their position so that the flamers had priority. Each one had a range of over 50 meters, these were the big backpack ones after all. The enemy had shown weakness to range and a dominance in melee, considerations had to be taken.

The Kriegers moved and adapted, the enemies of the Imperium would not be let off lightly, not today.

"Fire Mission. Bunker. Red Smoke. Fire at Will!" 8219 called through microbead embedded inside of his gas mask, the Battle Cannon of the Leman Russ turning to the target. Red smoke was billowing out of what looked like a fleshy pillbox, one from which the mutant was spraying untold volumes of acid at the advancing Kriegers. He had lost 3 to the ambush, any attempts at getting closer were being beaten off.

The acid could be directed into a stream that outranged their weaponry, and it appeared there was one of the deflector mutants inside as well. Harsher measures would need to be taken.

Even now from the sky came large rocks, projectiles of what looked like the chitinous limbs of the Xeno Tyranids, globs of acid and bio-weapons, a constant stream of artillery and death.

Ordering one of his men to fire a round of red smoke at the pillbox, 8219 had jogged his way over to the Leman Russ that had joined in the assault, its Heavy Bolters carving a swathe through the pathetic mutants. They were dying and they were burning. There would be no escape.

Not today.

The little box at the back of the tank had a direct line to the tank's commander, a quick message and 8219 was heading back to the frontline to join his men, ready and waiting for the battle cannon to unload its massive weight upon the hapless enemy.

BOOM

With a road and a burp of smoke, the massive shell, half as thick as he was wide, burst from the barrel towards the pillbox. The deflectors clearly had a limit as the shell slammed home, exploding in a gout of gore and ferrocrete. 8219 personally led the charge, rallying his pinned down platoon and clearing out the pillbox personally.

Barreling forward he grinned behind his mask, his usual reserve broken. They were slaying the enemies of the Imperium, they were demonstrating the might of the Imperial Guard, they were purging the mutant.

This was a day to love, this was a day for celebration.

Glory to the Emperor.

As he crested the ruins of what was a defensive position, 8219 looked down and spied the deflector, still alive, if barely. Not wasting a bolt from his laspistol, he walked over to the mutant and gave it the mercy of the Emperor, cutting off what he assumed to be its head.

Turning back he looked on as the platoon streamed through the gap, the enemy lines had been breached, the citadel was open. There would be a cleansing and there would be no mercy.

He chanted slightly under his breath, the litany of Spite to inspire him.

To crush to burn,

To see those who spurn,

Die with agony on their faces,

Unable to escape with usual haste,

Those who seek against the Emperor,

Die when faced with our fervour

It was a poem construed by a Krieger, likely why it was not quite all there, but it was one that resonated with him. The enemy had spurned the mercy of the Emperor and had taken up with the Ruinous powers, they were to be purged for the good of the Imperium and to offer them the last chance at the Emperor's Mercy, in death they may be what they failed in life.

As the platoon pushed forward, to his left and his right 8219 saw the flickers of the other platoons, the vehicles and more making their way through the rubble that was once this bastion of filth and corruption. In the background the massive Leo Mobile Suits were laying down fire on what was identified to be prime strategic targets, Vendetta gunships pounding away at the enemy strong points to their rear, the artillery constantly hammering home in the ever decreasing circle that was the enemy's defences.

In the distance, he could see massive jets of flame pouring from the Hellhounds, the screams of those on the receiving end carrying through the wind that was now whipping his greatcoat's tail around his legs.

Soon.

Soon the enemy would be driven from the shores of this world, soon they would be purged and find salvation in death. It was a duty that 8219 did willingly, happily even, it was what he was destined to be and he accepted that fact.

Feet pushing him forward, 8219 looked to his rear, there were reinforcements, of the Krieger kind, arriving from Valkyrie dropships. His platoon had been heavily damaged, about 8 in 10 men dead. The mutants were quite tough truthfully speaking, the many ways in which they could kill a man seeing his men and women being torn apart from all angles before return fire killed the attackers.

It was tripping mines with your feet, while it was effective, there was also the problem that it took manpower. Thankfully he had reinforcements with which he could finish the mission. The Emperor provided and so long as he did his duty, he would rejoin the Emperor when it was his turn to die.

8219 kept walking forward, Laspistol at the ready, power sword humming.

This was a good day.

Last edited: Nov 27, 2016

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George12

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Nov 28, 2016

#276

"Fuck me man, what the fuck are we walking into here?" Asked Larry McLarrister, his face twisted into a grimace of wonder, fear and just the smallest bit of envy. He was of the Protectorate, part of the response forces. He was used to seeing explosions and the like, hell the way the bomb-tinker Bakuda had made her exit had been particularly noteworthy in the decibel level.

But this… this was something else.

The way it was like an almost rhythmic musical tone, as if it was in some way a music score that revolved around pounding the ever living hell out of one tiny little patch of dirt. He counted what must have been 20 artillery pieces, not including the missile launchers that they were using. Each one was just firing non-stop, one shell every 10 seconds (he had counted), for the last 30 minutes. More shells being ferried in from those VTOLs they were using, a neverending stream of explosives. It was like a conveyor belt of death and it was terrifying. What was more the crews appeared to not be tired at all, just working like little machines, loading shells, firing shells, loading shells, firing shells.

Just what the hell were they?

As for Larry himself, he had volunteered to be part of the assault on Ellisburg, following behind the Princess' Guard as they breached the perimeter. He wasn't too sure on what exactly was going to be going on in there, but he was sure that they were bringing the pain. Something that he wholeheartedly agreed with, the monster Nilbog had been living in his little kingdom for far too long, he needed to be ousted lest he expand outward and try consume more lives like he had done with the residents of the town, and the occasional PRT member.

He was holding an M16, his chest rig holding a first aid kit, a few grenades, his kevlar vest, his kevlar pants, kevlar suit, kevlar everything with ceramic plating as well. If there was going to be something on the other side, it was going to need to be at least a Blaster 3 to get through his suit.

As for how he was getting there… walking. Lots of walking through what was likely lots of sun and heat and oh god. He was regretting his decision immensely now. There was too much sun. His worst enemy.

He was going to die before he got to the fight… he was sure of that.

Larry ducked down behind what used to be building… made of flesh and brick. The first push had gone so well, then one of the guys in gas masks, they called themselves Kriegers had been killed, speared right through.

They had killed the thing, but the way they had started chanting afterwards had been rather fucking disturbing.

'Emperor Protects' his asshole.

Then came the rest of the push, the way they just kept going, the way they just ignored what must have been several dozen in casualties, the way that one of them would walk forward, and something would burst out of the ground, drag the poor guy underground to kill him. Only the Kriegers followed after, throwing grenades down the hole, which still had their guy inside of it, and killing the beast as well as their own squadmate. Some of them he could see were pulling the pins of their own grenades as they went down.

Just pushing forward, just shooting, killing, fuck things like treating to the wounded. One of them who had been wounded and couldn't walk had been given a fucking grenade with the pin pulled and he held it to his chest like some kind of living booby trap.

What the fuck?

Then there was the advance, just straight into the lines, no need to wait for pesky shit like not dying, fuck all that noise. Just marching right in, the guys up front soaking up the damage while the other ones just fired their grenades at the minions. They just kept going, even when they had a guy without an arm, instead of patching him up, they just put him on the front line to take an extra bullet.

It was callous and it was just… disturbing.

The way they acted as if life was disposable was rather fucking terrifying and he was glad he was behind them and not at the front. There was no doubt in Larry's mind that when push came to shove, they wouldn't be worried about throwing grenades after him if he was attacked.

The way they reacted to attacks was also really fucking disturbing. Instead of diving to the ground and finding cover like normal people, they just swivelled on a dime and laid into whatever it was that needed killing. Like walking fucking turrets they were.

What? Half the squad was gone because they were melted into sludge by acid artillery? Who the fuck cared, just keep going.

Larry was regretting his decision immensely, the way these Kriegers conducted an attack shouted at his sensibilities as a normal human being. Disregarding life, theirs and those of their allies, ready to put their own bodies into the line of fire to bait out an attack, it was fucking ridiculous.

Even worse was the way that they thought things like just calling in constant reinforcements to replace the dead was normal. Seriously, what the hell did they do on a regular basis to become so blase about people dying? It was rather fucking worrying and he was very glad that it wasn't he that was a part of their crazy little cult.

As for the current situation, there was a little pillbox to the front, one that was making life a pain in the ass. It was firing what looked to be streams of acid at them, only it was situated so that there was no way for the flamethrower troops to get in close enough to burn it all down like they had all the others. They were trying to suppress it, but one of those Shaker minions was inside, deflecting their Lasers and Grenades.

As for Larry, he was doing his part, putting bullets into the bunker but obviously not with the accuracy of the breathing turrets. Seriously they could make a man feel inferior with the way they just did everything perfectly. Well… sort of. At least he was a functioning human being with emotions, even if he was just a tiny little bit dysfunctional.

Ok, that wasn't the point what are they… oh. Wow. They brought up a tank, a very big fucking tanks. It was like two times his height and had a cannon that could only be described as "fuck huge". As in the turret had a cannon that was like as wide as he was, it had another cannon to the front of it that was fuck huge, and then 2 massive machine guns on the side.

What the actual fuck.

He had seen them before sure, he had thought they were artillery vehicles, not fucking frontline units.

Holy shiiit.

The officer(? They all looked the fucking same) called out the target, popped red smoke and… oh wow. Hands over ears. As the turret traversed to the pillbox, the defenders inside even stopped, probably actively considering the idea that they should get the fuck out of there before their lives flashed before their eyes.

Or just stopped existing.

That too.

Or maybe because they were focusing on the team that the officer had sent up against the pillbox. They were just shooting and rushing up, suppressing the bunker, drawing attention, and making everyone ask "are you insane?". The minions inside started firing again, wiping out the team but then it was too late.

They had done what they were supposed to do… fucking insane.

Larry could only lie prone as the shock wave of the cannon firing passed over him, the pressure wave suffocating him briefly before the second shock wave from the destroyed pillbox greeted his face, robbing him of air a second time. All he could do was try and stay conscious as his vision darkened for a brief second as his eyes pressed into the back of his skull.

Then it was a matter of looking up and putting his hands over his head, the falling pieces of debris pattering about the place, along with what looked like a leg. Or they thudded… he couldn't tell, his ears still partially deafened by the blast.

They were pushing forward again, Larry groaned slightly as he rose to his feet and joined them. Head down low to make sure the constant stream of artillery from the citadel itself wasn't going to kill him. It had only intensified as they had gotten closer, now it was just non-stop. He wasn't sure how they were doing it and frankly he didn't want to know, some of them looked like body parts.

"Fuck me." He said, watching the stream of Kriegers following their officer (those guys had swords), shaking his head at the eagerness in which they were prepared they were prepared to die.

The team had been used to keep the pillbox occupied, if they had survived the acid, they were going to be torn apart by the tank. Just… seriously, what the hell were they doing? This wasn't how battles should be fought!

"What the fuck do you think happened to these guys?" Asked Barry McBarrister, long time friend and coworker.

"I don't know man but you can keep me as far away from that koolaid as possible. I like my head on my body thank you very much. And my sanity, I would like that too."

"Fuck yes. Just… fucking… stay behind the tank. That'll save us."

"You don't sound convinced there Barry."

"It's like twice as high as we are, the thing practically screams 'target' you know?"

"It's got a big ass gun. And lots of smaller guns."

"Won't save us from an attack on the ass."

"Do I need to intervene? You have am awful obsession when it comes to things up the ass."

"Ha ha. Fuck you man. Let's get going, don't want to be left alone in this hell hole."

"You got that right."

Larry could feel the heat from all the way over here, 30 meters away from the actual fire. They had brought up flamethrower tanks for the last push into the Citadel, where the resistance was strongest. It was a ruin now of course, but one that still held strong against the constant artillery that was slamming into it.

It was surrounded on all sides by the Princess' Guard who were in the process of dismantling it piece by piece. Their tanks slamming shells into the bastions of resistance, pockets of where sniper fire was coming from, of where there was possibly an ambush. The constant thunder of the main guns becoming like a sort of lullaby to Larry at the point.

After several hours of hearing it non-stop, he had in the end given up and just allowed it to flow through him. The shock waves massaging his inner tissue.

The flamethrower tanks had been brought up to flush the last of the minions from hiding and possibly Nilbog himself. The flame just punching through whatever gaps there were in the rubble, burning their way through the defenders.

The constant mortar strikes, grenades, artillery, no more missiles though, something about them being unreliable from the PRT coordinator in the rear. Had worked together to transform what had been a fairy tale castle complete with buttresses and slate roofing, if twisted by the amount of meat, into a mess of jagged spires of flesh and masonry, tumbled ruins being all that was left of what was a fantastical wonderland… of flesh.

Even now the flame tanks were hosing down the spires, burning the biomatter that was still there, the smell of bacon slowly being cooked and then burning, the deliciousness mixing with the acrid smell of burnt flesh. Not exactly what he thought he would be smelling on this day. Like a barbeque… of flesh… so a normal barbeque then… huh.

As he stood ready and willing, Larry considered that maybe… this was a little fucked up. But then again, it wasn't like he was doing anything important, the world was just going to end or something… probably.

As the smell of bacon filled his nose, Larry considered just how stomach churning the experience was, what with the screams of those who were inside the ruins, screaming in agony over the fact that they were being cooked alive, those were the unlucky ones. The lucky ones died from carbon monoxide poisoning from being too close to the flame when it went in, those that caught the fire and escaped before inhaling anything were the ones who were going to suffer the most.

Larry shook his head, sometimes surfing the web and gaining more knowledge was actually more horrible than not knowing anything. Knowing how they were all dying wasn't quite something he wanted to be thinking about. It even made him feel a little sad for them, in screaming all were equal.

As he stood there, rifle pointed at the ground, the Kriegers just turning the ruin into molten rock, he wondered exactly how these people were going to try and bring the world under the fold of the Imperium.

Because this? This was not something he wanted to bring back with him to New York.

This was what one might call evil, the destruction of life and sanctity, even if they were minions, created to worship Nilbog, they were still living things. If they were willing to do this, how willing would they be to do the same to New York? To any other town where the residents didn't have powers, didn't have a means to resist? Would they do this? Expedite matters?

Larry heaved a sigh. Only to suck it back on. The ground had begun to shake. What the fuck was going on? And then a roar, an almighty roar, one that shook the very earth on which they stood. One that reverberated through his bones, one that spoke of agony and torment.

What was going on?

Oh. There. Oh… what the fuck?!

From the ground rose up what was very clearly a monster, an enormous one even larger than the Endbringers at 30 meters high. Reaching into the sky, it was a huge potbellied monstrosity, legs as thick as buildings, arms barely reaching down to the first fold in its huge stomach. It roared again, the stomach opening up to reveal a maw covered with teeth and a tongue of its own, deeper than what should be possible.

From it emerged a veritable sea of tiny little creatures, each one screaming with high pitched delight. Their hands holding little jagged shivs and hooks, if they were holding anything at all, those claws looked fucking sharp.

What the fuck.

As Larry brought his rifle up to engage the monsters, his face twisted into a milieu of fear, the Kriegers began to engage with desperate urgency, everything began to engage with urgency, even the tanks, the aircraft, all of it.

This.

This was not how things were meant to go.

This was... what the fuck was this?

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Nov 28, 2016

#277

Mitchelli looked at the Primarch a little worried. The girl was… not taking the battle very well. Her soldiers were engaged in battle with an enemy that would not look out of place on a world underneath Slaaneshi control. Mutants of the most foul kind matched against the might of the Imperial Guard.

She had been seeing them die in what must have been a shock for the young girl. Hundreds of them had died, many of whom she had spent the last month becoming acquainted with. Not in person, but her power had become used to the feeling of their souls. It was not a feeling of being friends with them in a sense, but a feeling that they were around her, familiar, an anchor for her.

And now they were dead.

Upon her order.

She had wanted to look away, Mitchelli could see it. The internal struggle as she tried to reconcile her disgust, her fear with that of what she had done, her responsibility. They were hers and it would be her that witnessed their final moments. It was the least she could do and Mitchelli was proud that she had done it on her own initiative.

There would be a reckoning, of course, she had gone into this with a vague idea of what it would be like, a general guess informed from the pict-vids she had no doubt seen at some point or another.

Of the ones Mitchelli had seen they were all… soft. A few slugger rounds, a little burst of blood, the heroics, the immortal band of characters… fanciful. How they accomplished objectives beyond that of which could be possible for their human forms, of the almost comical ways in which the enemy died, from the way they had infinite ammunition. It was a fantasy enacted with 'modern' weapons, a tale for children.

Reality was not so kind. They died and they died horrifically. The lucky ones died from a blade through the heart, from an attack that had instantly killed them, likely a blow to the head. The unlucky ones… they died from acid, from being torn apart quite literally, eaten alive and more. Their deaths were not quick, their fates not merciful.

This was not like the pict-vids, theirs was not a gentle death, a little gasp and then falling over. No, they died screaming in agony.

It was not pretty, it was not glorious, it was sheer brutality. The Primarch had looked as if she had been ready to vomit upon watching it, her eyes unable to turn away.

It was the cold calculus of war, stand here and to look down on them, count the numbers and order the changes to strategy as necessary, to reinforce those that needed it, allowing those to be wiped out that did not.

The Primarch was not ready for this Mitchelli realised, and it was highly likely that she would never be ready for it. She was simply too… empathic. She would not cry over it, she would not do anything but accept that it was necessary. But she would be agonising over their sacrifice, it would eat at her from the inside.

Devouring her from the inside, twisting her until she might even turn to the powers of Chaos to alleviate some of the pain. The could not be allowed to happen, perhaps another means of placing her into a role was necessary. She could not be a battlefield commander, that much was certain.

Perhaps it would be better to not have her with them in the command room. At the front lines perhaps, where she could feel as if she was being useful, where she could save a few lives, a balm to her soul. Primarchs were just as capable of lying to themselves as mortals were.

The battle was winding down, perhaps this was the moment to take her aside and give her a talk, try to mitigate the lambasting that she was no doubt giving to herself.

"We've got a problem." Sergeant Black called out. The large data-slates that they were watching everything unfold through the eyes of the Servo Skulls bound together by the work of Hurosius.

"What… oh." Mitchelli was at a loss for words. It was a Greater Daemon of Nurgle, a Great Unclean One, a beast that was larger than anything that Mitchelli had ever seen. Even now it was spewing out the Nurglings that came from its mouth. Rising from the ruins of the Citadel, it lumbered forward, ready to devour anything in its path. And if the heading was accurate, that was a nearby city.

It was a gargantuan beast, one of proportions that gave it an almost menacing look if not for its morbid rotundness. The sheer size of it, a massive fat, turbulent thing, the rumbles underneath the pustules and the tumours indicating at life or the excess of life underneath it. In one hand it held a rusted cleaver of immense proportions, the size of a building, the other held a hook dripping with viscera.

Many smaller hands were placed all over the body, it smiled as it emerged, cheering the masses of Nurglings as they poured from the mouth on its stomach, the hole from the ground in which it had emerged a portal for even more, thousands of them. The head was adorned with antlers that stretched high into the sky, the diminutive head bared in a wide grin, the rotting tongue lolling out of its mouth.

The entire beast was of a green colouration, of a putrid green, the kind that indicated rot and mold, certain parts of it black and dripping a foul ichor across the landscape.

Already the Guard were firing upon the Nurglings as they rushed out, killing the daemons, something that was going to enrage the Greater Daemon and send it into a vengeful rampage. They Nurglings were comparatively easy to end, small one foot high creatures, a single bolt was enough to destroy them. But they came in waves, in oceans, drowning those they fought against with numbers and razor sharp claws. Even now they were threatening to overwhelm the Guard as they tried to contain them in a massive cordon.

She sighed. There was only one way out of this, only one way given just what forces they had available. There was just not enough firepower to put it down.

"Lord Commissar, the Deathstrike. Do you have the codes?" Mitchelli asked.

The man, wizened and aged by years of war turned to her and nodded.

"Yes my Lady, we have a Vortek missile being prepared to launch, but it needs time for the Litanies of Ignition to be finished. Approximately 30 minutes my Lady." He said, face resolute. It was why he was here after all, a means to ensure the Deathstrike would be launched no matter the hesitation of the launch crew of killing droves of their own men.

"Send a message to Colonel Knight. She must hold the line for 30 more minutes while the Deathstrike is being prepared. We need the time before it moves too far from the initial point." Mitchelli said to Hurosius, the Engiseer nodding and turning to his internal communications array.

"Their sacrifice shall be remembered," Maxine said solemnly, face turned down.

"Why? Why do you need to launch a Deathstrike? That is our men down there. My men. Why can't you have them escape, I can open portals! Why do you need to do that? What is that thing!?" The Primarchs voice escalated in volume, shock twisting her words.

"That is a Greater Daemon of Nurgle my Primarch. It is a beast that exists solely to spread disease and pestilence throughout the world. The longer it is in this reality, the more disease it will spread, should we leave it, it will kill millions. There is nothing we have in our conventional arsenal that can kill it, opening a Portal does not work when it can simply climb out of them. What would you suggest Primarch? What will you do? If the men do not hold it back, then it will simply leave, the Deathstrike will miss and then what? We cannot change the initial strike coordinates, we must keep it in the same area for Warp Rift to take the Daemon with it, the further away it is, the weaker the effect is, what would you have us do instead?" Mitchelli asked of her, demanding from her answers. There was a time for coddling, there was a time for war. This was very clearly the latter.

The Primarch stood there her breath coming in harshly. It was a make or break moment for her, a moment when she would either cement her course and continue forth, or break from it and seek a different option, one more palatable to herself. There was nothing Mitchelli could do but offer her the options.

"We do not have time Primarch. Choose now, the Deathstrike cannot be aborted once it is armed." Maxine said, her voice just a little softer.

"No."

"Pardon Primarch?"

"I said NO. NO MORE."

And with the Taylor Hebert, Primarch, first daughter of the Emperor turned her back on them and stepped through a Portal, the ever present excess of her power lighting up in flame, flame that burned high and bright.

She was heading to the battlefield, she was fulfilling her destiny.

ENOUGH

The voice carried out through the vox casters on the data-slate table.

The Primarch had stepped foot onto the battlefield, the ground behind her aflame, her words containing enough power to shatter the rocks around her, sending them flying away in from the figure on the screen. Mitchelli could only grin despite the situation. Little Prim was assuming her position as a Primarch of the Emperor of Mankind and there would be nothing to stand in her way. She was the Primarch, the greatest human to have ever been born. She was the fist of the Emperor, his voice, his hands, she was what the Daemons feared, she was what the people aspired to be.

Taylor Hebert, the First Daughter.

NO MORE. THERE WILL BE NO MORE

She said, voice low. Despite this, every single person on the field stopped, even the Greater Daemon though that might be more out of curiosity than because of anything else. The fear twisting through the faces of the local law enforcement that had joined in the assault lifting into expressions of hope, anticipation of salvation.

Whether it be her presence, or her power, the entire battlefield changed in an instant, whereas before it was of fear, a twisted landscape that was itself turning a putrid black, now it was changed, now it was different, the corruption halting, burning away in the face of the Primarch's presence.

Lifting up her hand she regarded the Greater Daemon before her.

THEY ARE MINE. THERE SHALL BE NO MORE

And with that, her hand rose and every single Krieger, the tanks, the artillery, every single piece of hardware slid down, no doubt being deposited somewhere that was away from here, away from the soon to be a no doubt titanic battle. But it wasn't all, the local law enforcement were also transported as was everything else on the ground in a several kilometer radius. There, would be no collateral damage for Taylor, not today.

Wings of fire unfurled from her back, her body lifted into the air, head held high, like an avenging angel seeking recompense for crimes against it. Her hair, solid auburn shone with an inner glow, spreading out behind her as if it were a Halo. It was all unconscious… probably, but Mitchelli considered that the youngest Primarch certainly had a way about her when it came to showmanship, the girl was a natural.

The Greater Daemon wasn't just waiting, lit lumbered over to her, one pudgy hand reached out as if to grasp her like a morsel. Chuckling as it did so, the jovial nature of Father Nurgle rotting through.

STAY

She said, left hand rising and clenching. As if waiting for this moment, the very ground itself erupted. Rising from the very earth itself were vines, countless vines, dozens, hundreds, thousands of them rising up to wrap themselves around the comparatively little spindle stalks that was the Greater Daemon's legs, up to the stomach, the chest, the arms, immobilizing the entire behemoth in an instant. Before her very eyes, the vines transformed, changing into what looked to be a shimmering kind of wood, evidently tough enough to hold the Greater Daemon as if it were an unruly child.

Walking over to it, as if the air itself was made of solid ferrocrete, the Primarch placed a hand on its head, her face twisted in an expression of sadness and what felt like despair.

GROW

Was her statement, the beast roaring with anger and defiance as it tried to twist itself free, but to no avail.

Mitchelli could only stare at what happened next. The beast looked as if it were… in pain. Something that she was not sure she had ever seen on the face of a Greater Daemon before, let alone that of a Greater Daemon of Nurgle. The thrashing intensified and the vines groaned from the pressure, enough to twist the very earth beneath them free.

Then it stopped. As quickly as it had begun the great beast stilling. It… it had been turned to wood. An enormous plant that stood tall, in the impression of a Greater Daemon of Nurgle, an immortal and alive reminder as to the awesome power of the Primarch. From its forehead emerged a small flower, tiny in comparison to the rest of the beast. Unfurling it revealed from it… a man. A small dishevelled, naked and… weak man.

A mortal.

Picking him up the Primarch dropped him into a portal and walked forward again, this time to stand in the center of the destroyed citadel not 50 meters from where the Daemon of Nurgle had himself stood.

A screech rose up from the gathered Nurglings, thousands upon thousands of them, all screeching in anger and despair as their Great Unclean One was taken away from them, that their father had been destroyed. The screeches rose up into a murderous crescendo as they rushed at her, piling onto each other into a tower that grew ever higher as they grasped at the Primarch's feet.

Looking down on them the Primarch did not expend words, did not expend effort, merely waved her hand at the putrid mass below her, conveniently having gathered all the Nurglings into a single writhing mass. The vines that bound the Great Unclean One emerged once again, ripping through the bodies of the Nurglings, their open sores, their gaping virulent wounds, tearing them apart, devouring them whole. The entire writhing mass becoming a vast tree before solidifying, signalling the attempted defiance by those below her in station.

Hand outstretched, her attention back to the town itself, her voice boomed once again.

GROW

And so it did. 1523 trees from Mitchelli's count, 1523 trees, one for every single Krieg soldier that had died today. Each tree spearing into the air, each growing to a ludicrous height of a hundred meters unsupported. Each of them grey in colour, like that of the Krieg uniform.

The gaping chasm that the Great Unclean One had emerged from sprouted into life, the trees emerging from its depths, twisting around each other spreading out through the entire town, growing an entirely new forest to support the massive trees that stood at the location of each and every Death Korps of Krieg trooper that had died.

A gently waving mass under the canopies of the stoic grey giants.

REMEMBER

The Primarch said, a single tear dropping from her eye.

Without another word she turned around and walked into another portal.

The Primarch had left.

Her words short.

But it mattered not.

The world would speak for her.

111

George12

Nov 28, 2016

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George12

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Nov 29, 2016

#289

"What's got you so annoyed Bob?" Malcador, trusted aide, advisor and all 'round bro to the Emperor of Mankind asked, voice sounding as if he was put upon. The nerve of the man, it wasn't like the Emperor of Mankind really asked for much (Malcador's voice of the Emperor never worked out the way he wanted it to, none of the booming smugness that came with it).

Just a means by which to look at the newest Primarch without any psykers or technological devices being able to sense it while also being portable so that the Emperor would be able to carry it around on him. He wanted it in the shape of an iPhone as well, something about dongles.

Who the hell knew.

Regardless, that was why Malcador had spent the last few months poking and prodding at the spells that would do all for all that the Emperor wished and more. A system that would be so elaborate, so complicated, so… impossible to unravel unless they were Malcador himself that it looked simple to the untrained eye. What must have been hundreds of thousands of runes all melding together so that from a distance it looked like a single line.

The design so complicated that lesser minds would believe it looked like a single shape, a single design, a single production. Beautiful in its simplicity, mind boggling in its complexity. Malcador had achieved the greatest heights that a man could achieve, to have complexity in simplicity and simplicity in complexity.

Hiding a planet from the enemies of mankind would be easier, he should know, he had done it apparently in an alternate universe. They would need to meet up and exchange notes sometime.

Regardless, it was done. He was going to now go. And have a puff.

A very long and dedicated puff to the months he had spent on this damn project that was likely going to be overlooked as the Emperor stared at his adopted daughter in a totally non-perverted fashion. She was too small apparently. Malcador agreed. The girl needed to eat a little more, hopefully, she wouldn't turn out like Magnus, tall but flat as a board, that would be disappointing.

The first female Primarch needed to be perfect in all forms.

Still, time to deliver the device to the Emperor, Bob, whatever he wanted to be called these days.

"Bob. Catch." Malcador said, flinging the little rectangle across the room, the rectangle that contained within it months of work. It wasn't going to wall, the Emperor never missed a chance to show off and here it was. The phone curving through the air and right into his outstretched hand.

Malcador dutifully clapped.

Now then. Off to sleep.

Wandering off to the side, Malcador was about to leave the opulent room that was covered in gold and was the Emperor's personal suite on the hub spoke when Bob called out to him.

"Dude, you gotta watch this with me."

Malcador heaved a sigh. Fuck it.

If the Emperor didn't want to smell weed in his room he shouldn't be such an ass about not giving Malcador free time.

Opening a portal with his mind, Malcador reached into the desk in his room and brought out his pipe.

Setting up the bud, lighting it up and taking an appreciative puff, Malcador wandered over to the Emperor and looked down at… what the fuck.

The Emperor of Mankind watched things vertically? What kind of fucking heathen was this? He probably filmed vertically as well.

The monster.

"Dude look at this, they're like totally fucking up this guy's day." The Emperor said, pointing at the tiny little images on screen of even tinier people.

Raising an eyebrow at the Emperor, Malcador made a few finger motions so that it would expand and cover the entire wall.

Now this was a screen.

Sitting down on a couch he summoned from the air, Mal dropped down and prepared to watch.

"Dude what did I say about smoking in my room?" The Emperor whined.

For his part, Mal just opened up a portal in front of his mouth and above the pipe, sucking out all the smoke. While also staring at the Emperor, eyebrow raised.

"Screw you man. Anyway. Check this out. [Waving at the wall the Emperor begins his narration.] So they were like going to attack this place right? Well... I gave the muties all a liiittle boost so they could stand up to the flashlight guys a little more. Only like, doctrine has changed over the last thousand years which is fucking annoying man, let me tell you. Was totally expecting like full on awesome fighting and shit, what do I get? Nothing. Just fucking artillery for an hour, just boom boom boom because that's fucking annoying. So I buffed them just a little more.

"Anyway they go in, they're all like pew pew pew and they're fucking dying in the dozens right. It's like 2 or 3 of the flashlights to a single mutie in close combat and they just keep coming like fucking lemmings I tell you. Anyway, it's way too easy. They're about to breach the last bit and kill the big bad and like… waaay too easy. They cheat with artillery, I'm gonna cheat with awesome mind magic shenanigans. Will be awesome I tell you." Bob said excitedly. Not having an Empire to run must be getting to the guy.

As for Malcador, he was sitting back, puffing, occasionally listening, making the appropriate grunt every now and again before… wait. What?

"You're going to fucking what now?" Malcador asked, his high dissipating slightly.

"Gonna buff the shit out of this dude, called Nilbog or some shit, goblin backwards. Anyway gonna buff him up and get Primarch out. Did you know she hasn't been saying her "I love Daddy Emperor" 50 times a day? The nerve. So gonna punish her a little." Bob said, voice getting more petulant towards the end.

"So… let me get this straight. You're going to straight up just buff up that guy, gonna make him more powerful, get him to what? Kill all those soldiers that she cares about as a lesson? Are you out of your mind man? That is some Tzeentch shit right there."

"Well what the fuck am I supposed to do, she's not showing me the respect I deserve as Daddy Emperor."

Malcador resisted the urge to slap his hand on his face. This. This was not what he signed up for.

Driving the Emperor and his sons to therapy every week or so? Totally doable.

Offering advice on how the fuck this dysfunctional family was supposed to work? What the fuck did the Emperor expect him to be able to do? He didn't even have kids, he was like 30,000 years old, his kids would be mutated as fuck, and not the good kind.

"Ok. Seriously, what's the real reason man?" Malcador asked. The Emperor was immature true, but he wasn't an idiot. One didn't conquer a large part of the galaxy by being an idiot.

The Emperor leant back slightly and stared at him, eyebrows rising.

"I am being serious." He drawled out.

"..."

"She's like… got a little something you know? Makes me want to care about her." Caved the Emperor.

"Vulnerability. She has vulnerability in spades. Most vulnerable Primarch to have ever existed." Malcador said, it made sense. The girl had been born as a human after all, a little weak human.

"Yeah. That. She's just so… soft… like a pupper you know? Makes you want to look after her."

"She's the only one of your children that actually needs you isn't she?"

"..."

"Ok then. So what's the reason F-Emperor."

"Fuck you, man."

"So? The reason?"

"She's soft. Too soft, she's been too human for too long, she's not going to be able to do what needs to be done. She needs to be tested, she needs to be hardened up. Leave her like she is for too long and she's going to break. Can't let that happen. She cares too much about her cannon fodder, she doesn't understand that she's worth quite literally millions of them, she is infinitely more valuable than every single human on that planet put together. She can't just break every time that one of them dies, she needs to harden the fuck up." Emperor sighed out.

"So you're going to throw her into the deep end and try to get all of her troops killed? She's going to hate you for it when she finds out."

"Necessary man. She has one city and she's getting angsty over a few dead people. What's she going to do when she has a country? Half the world? Is she going to be able to cope? Kill her men now, get her to step in and deal with the boss personally. Force her to step up now and see if she can. Better than waiting for her to do it when it really does matter and she folds." The Emperor said with a note of finality. Changing himself back to his non-serious persona.

"Just like, make it a test or something man. I don't fucking… no. Don't do that." Malcador said, his thoughts running over potential solutions, his mouth not giving a shit and speaking anyway.

"Too late. Test it is. Gonna buff the fuck out of him and make it a test. Quick. Help me with my lines."

Malcador resisted the urge to slam his face into the wall, nevermind that it was about 5 meters away. If he could slam dunk moons into planets, he could slam dunk his head into a wall.

"Are you really going to do this? She's going to hate your for this you know." Malcador tried to dissuade his liege from trying to do something incredibly reckless. Didn't he remember the last time he had "buffed" an enemy as a test for his sons? Giant fucking Orks with fuck huge cannons that nearly killed his son requiring the Emperor to step in personally. Because holy shit did the Emperor not learn from his mistakes.

Like that time with the Dark Eldar and her strangely shaped knife, the idiot had gone back for seconds.

"Nope. Gotta do it. Help me out here Mal."

Malcador sighed, wracking his brain as to what to say.

"Ok. Got it. Try this. 'It has come to my attention that you are not quite ready, you have'… ah fuck. Let me think here. You have… you have… 'reservations about your position. Then I shall offer a single puzzle for you daughter Primarch. There is an enemy here. He is about to kill all of your men. You may ask your advisors what he resembles, ask them what will happen if you do not do what you need to. Ask them what happens if you fail your men, if you fail humanity. You are my daughter. Do what is needed, do not hesitate, do not run. This is your test. Fail it at the peril of those close to you, of the innocent.' There! Just fucking say that, turn the guy into something that looks like a Greater Daemon of Nurgle and done." Malcador said, his mouth flowing to the end there, moments of adversity gave rise to inspiration, what else could he say?

"Fucking genius man. Bro five!" The Emperor raised his hand.

Malcador opened a portal and slapped it, well, it was time to see what exactly the youngest Primarch was going to do from here.

She was powerful, that was expected really. What was an issue was the manner in which she was terrified to do what was necessary, still bound by human morality. The girl had resolve, had an inner goodness that overrode everything else about her. But she assumed that goodness was bound by morality, she needed to break that mindset or there would be nothing but suffering in her future.

Malcador did not dislike her, she was very interesting, a character one might say. But interesting did not equate to her being ready for the wider Imperium. The girl needed to grow, needed to become all that she could be.

Not for the first time did Malcador feel sorry for the girl, they had thrust upon her power, had given her so much raw power and expected her to live a life that was one of eternal war?

The girl just wanted to live a life that had none of this, that was just her, just her dad and somewhere where she could laugh and smile.

Instead, it was this.

That she wished to do this peacefully spoke largely of her human origins, of her life as a person before she had been raised as a Primarch. Unlike those born to their positions, confident in their superiority, in that they were right at all times. It was interesting watching her be different, interesting and enjoyable, like watching a newborn taking their first steps.

It did appear however that she was rooted into a very narrow view of what she needed to do however. Or rather what she could do. It was causing her unnecessary levels of anguish and she could no doubt do much better without the constant cloud of angst following her around.

She could quite easily conquer the planet without any bloodshed, just brainwash all of them into worshipping her. There, no killing necessary. But given her personality, that was a near 0 possibility answer. She could possibly take the city and make that a shining Beacon of prosperity and hope, the others joining her voluntarily after seeing what was possible under her reign. Alternatively, she could alpha strike the leadership of the world and secure her Kingdom in the aftermath. There were many options that did not involve killing large numbers of innocents, that didn't involve the total war in which the Imperial Guard was so famed.

Alternatively, she could offer a future where the world be brought into the fold of the Imperium but one that was lawful. They had their Arbites and the Law Fields did they not? A simple matter then to speak of allowing liberties to continue so long as they did not violate the laws as decreed by the High Lords of Terra. World keeps ticking along, tithe a few thousand to the Imperium every now and again.

Simple really.

Malcador did have a pressed flower collection and her little patch that popped up when she was happier contained many different varieties that he had never seen before, more to add to his collection. With her so down all the time he hadn't expanded his collection in what felt like weeks.

Something had to be done.

So many options yet she thought there would only be one.

Perhaps… advice into the ears of one of her court?

That young one, the Lisa. She was open enough to understand, a link perhaps.

Something to think on, considered Malcador surrendering to the high.

64

George12

Nov 29, 2016

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George12

George12

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Nov 29, 2016

#290

Lisa Wilborn, the Tattletale had just returned from her little… episode one might call it.

After the battle of Ellisburg, the Princess had returned, went into her room and sealed the door shut with her plants.

On one hand, it was good that she was finally getting a hold of her power, on the other, it was a bad sign given that she was apparently not handling the whole idea of having to wage war very well either.

As for Lisa, she was… ambivalent towards it. She was a regular human, she was what one might call, a very intelligent human, but with her powers… she had also seen the world in so much detail that it was almost impossible to be sympathetic towards those that died. It was a failing and one that she was very willing to admit it was one, but when they were being viewed from up on high at such an angle, after the initial bout of disgust, fear, vulnerability… it became almost the norm.

She was sure that part of this was due to the conditioning that the Princess, or rather Taylor had instilled into her. A way to make sure that even if Taylor was unable to express herself, unable to act out of her own natural empathy, that Lisa would be able to do so for her. It was the only way to explain why she had felt her natural responses shut off so quickly in response to what she had seen.

It was a particularly disconcerting idea really, that she was not in control of her own body, but that too slowly eased out of her mind. The Princess had really done a number on her, hadn't she? To make matters worse the Princess likely didn't even comprehend what it was that she had done, assumed it to be just the same as everything else… Something that had to be considered and possibly educating her about the cans and cannots about changing the minds of those around her.

It was a danger, but given her, Primarch was currently locked in her room, that might be a little bit difficult.

Lisa was concerned with the situation at hand. Which was of course why a voice suddenly decided that it was time to come out and begin a conversation with her in her head. It sounded a bit like the Malcador figure that had appeared in the Primarch's previous conversation… or rather her shouting at her Emperor father.

"Good day Lisa, I am Malcador, pleased to make your acquaintance." He said. Inside of her head.

"I am Lisa, what are you…" She said, preparing to call for Konrad or maybe Mitchelli to help her figure out whether or not this was a sign of the Chaos that they were all very worried about. She didn't want something like this inside of her head, that was just insanity.

"I am Malcador, first advisor the God Emperor of Mankind as you know him, or at least I was. I am speaking to you as I can see you hold the same position for his daugher. We are kindred of a sort, dealing with the strange eccentricities of our masters are we not?" He asked, sounding much more wise than she had thought was possible from him.

Amused - Thinks entire situation is funny - Has been in my position before - Is willing to help

"Yessss. So you are here to offer me advice? On what to do regarding my Primarch?" Lisa asked, a little cautious. If there was anything she took away from the reading list that had been assigned to her, those that could speak into her mind from another dimension were of immense power, it would not do to irritate them. Exploding heads from anger was a thing in the 40k universe.

"Yes. The girl is rather lost, rather afraid. She is growing into her power and it is changing her as it did the Emperor of Mankind, only in his case it was fully completed by the time I met him. With any effort it will be possible that you guide your Primarch in such a way that she does not end up the same way as the God Emperor did, for as powerful as he was, he failed to grasp many things and failed to move with the times, such as the idea that anyone who disagreed with him but was also weaker than he was, was automatically wrong. A little personality kernel left over from his past." He said, sounding just a little put out by it all.

Truth - Has been in similar situations before - Sympathetic to my situation - Willing to help

"So what you're saying, is that Taylor is changing because of her power, and it's possible to affect that change?"

"It is so good to be talking to someone that understands. If it was the Emperor, he would have just used his powers and changed everything he didn't like. Us puny mortals do not have that luxury I am afraid. So, the matters which concern your Primarch the most, would you care to list them?" He asked, sounding very sympathetic.

"She is a pacifist, she doesn't want to fight, but it seems that she is being forced to since there doesn't appear to be any other way to achieve what she wants without waging war in the first place. It's eating away at her, and let's be honest, I haven't done any conquering myself so I can't exactly help in that regard." She answered, grabbing a seat on the chair provided. Something would have to be done, the bloody chairs in this place were all designed to make people uncomfortable so that they wouldn't sit for too long. Damned industrious Imperium. Where was the honest lazing about? Where was the relaxation?

Sure the soldiers could relax but all of them here were chosen since they were the most fanatical, or the best, or the most loyal, they weren't going to be slacking off, which meant that Lisa couldn't find herself a bloody chair.

She heaved a sigh and waited for Malcador's reply.

"If that is the case, what options have you already considered?"

Knows the answer - Wants me to explain it myself

"We know that we have to conquer the world in order to fulfil the Emperor's mission, but why exactly do we have to do that at all? Wouldn't it be possible just to sit and wait, she is Immortal, she can do whatever she wants." Lisa asked, the question had been bugging her for quite a while now, niggling in the back of her mind. Just why was she doing this in the first place?

"It is merely a means to redirect the infant Primarch, without it she would be nothing but a raging beast in a place where raging beasts are commonly found. She is coming into her power, power that will make her one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy, let alone your singular planet. What this means for the girl is that her power will demand to be used, demand an outlet. It is something that all Psykers must wrestle with, our powers are alive and they demand of us. It is therefore in the interests of directing your Primarch that the Emperor gave her a mission, something to focus on so that she would not… follow in the footsteps of his sons." Malcador trailed off slightly at the end.

Truth - Powers influence the mind - Give focus to prevent wanton destruction

"You mean Konrad." Lisa stated.

"Yes… I mean Konrad."

"So, what are the options we have besides straight conquest? You should know right? You conquered a galaxy and probably had thousands of worlds to try different tactics and strategies on." Lisa asked.

"Yes… thousands of worlds. [he sighed briefly before pressing on.] There are multiple different ways in which you can conquer a peoples. We are human and so we are fundamentally at some level similar. To conquer with overt force is always the most direct of actions and often the easiest, people do not seek to engage a superior force after all, self-preservation instincts have brought up from the then into the now. However this runs the risk of an insurgency at a later date, people gather courage from those around them and from time. Should you go this route there is a very high chance that they will revolt against you and you will be forced to put them down with brutal force. It will only engender more and more revolts until the old guard are dead, and the younger accept their positions. It will take centuries if you manage the situation badly, decades if you manage it well.

"The other options are to conquer peacefully and without the force of a thousand swords. Remember that human beings are animal in nature, they have needs that must be satisfied before they are able to desire wants. If you offer to satisfy their needs then it is very likely that they will give up their wants in order to survive, it is very basic... but it is very human."

Truth - Has used these tactics before - Willing to use these tactics again - Ruthless when necessary

"But the needs of the people in this country are being fulfilled, how can we appeal to them if this is the case?" Lisa asked. She had guessed where the answer was going… but she wanted to know if she was wrong, rather she wanted to be wrong.

"Then you engender the need. Sabotage the shipments of food, of water, of shelter, of fuel, deny them their needs and they will become desperate, offer to fulfil their needs in exchange for discarding away their wants and they will throw themselves at your feet."

"But Taylor would never go for that route, she was crying over a few hundred that died, that would kill thousands… millions."

"She does not have to know. She is the brightness, she is the golden child, the bringer of hope. That job is for us, those who hide in the shadows so that the stains on our hands and our hearts are hidden as we are. We do what must so that they do what can."

Truth

"I… I don't know."

"Then one can simply find a place where needs are not being fulfilled and filling them. You live on a planet with humans, it is impossible to not find such a place unless it is artificial. Find them, and you will have your converts, they will in turn convert others for you. It will allow you to expand, but the need to use force will eventuate in time." He said, voice heavier than when they had begun this conversation.

"Then I assume we need a base of some kind to start off with if we want to start showing the greatness of the Imperium or whatever it is?"

"Correct. By creating a light on the hill, all those who see it will flock to it, especially when all they had to see with before was the candles in their hands. Show them a bright future and they will come, show them greatness and they will throw themselves at you in droves, especially when they have nothing, are nothing and desire everything."

Lisa pondered on the answer. She had immediate answers to the questions of the Primarch's problems… for now. A way to stave off the inevitable question of whether or not she was willing to wage war. A way to, for a time, fool herself, the world, and more importantly, her Primarch that everything was going to be okay and she did not need to kill or fight.

The answer had been obvious really, why were they so focused on Brockton bay? Would it not be better to go to Africa, to establish this beacon, to show the appeal of the Imperium and to gather for her Primarch those that would be the first to join, the first to shout at the top of their lungs the greatness of the Imperium?

She could do that here, why focus purely on Brockton when the Kriegers could themselves build an entire city for the refugees of America's Endbringer attacks, they had the needs and the Imperium had the ways in which to fill them.

"Thank you."

"Anytime Lisa. We should have a puff one of these days, you should have a puff one of these days, eases the tension you know. I would ship you edibles but it is rather difficult when one is one the other side of the reality chasm."