Dawn Chapter 2: Dawn of Worm 1, a x-overs fanfic

Dawn of Worm 1

Side Chapter - Humorous - Disclaimer - Big Disclaimer - Biggest Disclaimer - Also Apricots are the best… after Nashi Pears/Apples whatever they are called. You have been warned, manliness ahead, you have been warned.

"Good morning to you in the Northern American continent, our fans in Canada and in the United States of America, this is your host Julia Krueger of the talk show Mustarfar." Came the voice of the woman over the television. Her face was rather attractive, her upper body, her arms. All reasonably proportional, a good looking human being that met the minimum requirements to be featured in the television set in the corner of the bar that was the Apricot.

Unlike what its name suggested, the Apricot did not serve girly drinks, only manly drinks for men. Serious drinks that a man could knock back, let loose a burp and sound like a real man's man. Drinks that could literally put hairs on your chest, only that wasn't enough, that was only a standard man's drink. No, these could put hairs on your chest and then set them on fire, that was just how manly these drinks were.

A place for only the hardest men to drink, a place where only the biggest and toughest men in the world could drink without feeling that their masculinity was being infringed upon. Only the baddest bastards wouldn't be afraid to drink in a room full of other tough men from all over the world. Only those who were truly confident in themselves would be able to drink on this hallowed ground.

The only thing in common being their hard eyes and their willingness to pay for drinks since the Bartender was a badass that also had a baseball bat which increased his badass factor by an entire point. Which in a room of the meanest men in the planet, made him the de-facto meanest one since ten plus one was eleven. Sometimes it was a cricket bat which made it ten plus two since Cricket was a real man's sport.

Now… now it was time to order.

Only the manliest of drinks.

"Long Island… hold the ice." Ordered a man, a man with a Marine tattoo on his left shoulder, a South Korean Marine. His eyes saying that he had killed before and he enjoyed it.

The other men around him grunted, no ice, that was ballsy.

"Sangria… extra sugar." Ordered another, his face covered with scars, his left eyebrow nothing more than a burn scar that wrapped around to the tip of his ear.

This was a badass.

The other men nodded in appreciation, that was dangerous. The cavities in the future could seriously do some damage to his teeth if he forgot to brush.

"Cosmopolitan."

"Pina Colada."

"Emu Draft."

The others grimaced at that, there was drinking dangerous drinks then there was drinking dangerous drinks. An Emu Draft was going to do serious damage to his taste-buds, but if he wanted to take the dive then that was his prerogative. Some men were just more willing to jump into danger than others.

As the men sat that bar, their drinks being served, a few of them looked up at the television screen. The woman, a rather attractive woman that a few of the men wouldn't mind taking for long walks on the beach followed by a chaste kiss goodbye, was interviewing a man that looked to be rather academic.

He had frizzy hair, glasses that wouldn't sit on his face, a body that looked like it was ready to give up any time now, and a large walking stick. They grunted in sympathy at that, it wasn't easy growing old and having to use a walking stick was the only plus side of it. Having an extra weapon in a fight was always a good thing.

As for what was being said, well they tuned in, maybe this would be interesting.

"This is Professor Y of the American Institute of Giant Robotics, he is here to talk to us about the Giant Robots that we have seen emerge from the Princess' Guard, is there anything that you can tell us about them from just looking at them Professor?" She asked, sounding as if she was hanging on his every word.

The men nodded, that took a certain level of skill that was hard to find in anything but female spies that were going to sleep with you then stab you in the neck when you weren't looking. The femme fatales, it was always nice to see them from a distance where you weren't in range of their sniper rifles.

"Well to start off with it is hard to believe that they can function so well." Said the professor, looking a little annoyed at that. Oh? What got his goat?

"What do you mean by that Professor?"

"Well, you see, when you have something that large, the materials needed to support it become more and more important otherwise if you tried to make it move, the stresses would tear apart the frame before it could even take a few steps. It is hard to believe that they managed to do it and also make it do things like jump without falling apart. It has completely revolutionized the field of Giant Robotics I can tell you that now." He said, his moustache, a pretty good one at that, quivered with excitement.

"I see. And what do you think the capabilities of these Giant Robots are Professor?"

"It's obvious. The Giant Robots were capable of crushing cars in their way so each must weigh at least several tonnes, their weapons were all of proportional size indicating their ability to be a threat to even tanks if they are using proportional ammunition. Which means that each one must be terrifically strong to be able to use such weaponry which means they must be able to exert vast amounts of power with their arms as well as withstand it." Said the Professor.

The men nodded at that, very logical conclusion that was, the stronger the arms and the body, the bigger the guns you could wield.

All of them at some point or the other had picked up a Heavy Machine Gun and used it one handed to mow down dozens if not hundreds of enemies. It was a lot harder than it looked like when you were watching television, you would think that it would be easy but the recoil would send it flying all over the place if you didn't have extraordinary muscular strength and control.

"What I think you need to talk about is not what we can see of them, but the fact that we have already seen them elsewhere." Said another voice, the camera panning out to show what looked like a rather… well dressed man. The men shook their head at that, even the bartender, he was very clearly trying too hard to blend in, his suit barely fit and his face was betraying the way those pants probably rode into his balls. They grimaced in sympathy, having pants ride into your balls was never a good feeling.

"Oh? What do you mean by that Mr Anerdson?" She said looking at him and raising an eyebrow.

"What I mean is that these Giant Robots are in fact Mobile Suits from the Gundam Wing which aired in 1995 in Japan, the Giant Robots that you speak of are in fact Mobile Suits, in fact, they are considered the weakest Mobile Suits in the entire series." He said, straightening the invisible assassin that was his tie.

"Oh? So these 'Mobile Suits' as you call the are from a work of fiction then? Like the Princess' Guard themselves?" Asked the interviewer, her delicate eyebrows arching up in only the way that someone who practiced in the mirror for hours at a time were able to do. The men knew, the cocky set of the chin and the raised eyebrow that stopped more fights than their fists ever would required a certain level of dedication to master... and an ability to get over how manly their faces were.

"Yes, each of these Mobile Suits is in fact from a separate piece of fiction than that of the Warhammer Forty Thousand Universe." He said, in response.

"That is very strange would not you think? That the Warhammer Forty Thousand Universe would in fact, have so many different aspects of it being revealed to us that are not mentioned previously?" Asked the Professor, his face twisted into confusion, "I mean that it is not possible that these are the Leos from the Gundam Wing fiction, the schematics which we have access to in public resources do not in fact work. We have tried constructing the Leo as it is called and it simply does not function due to the laws of physics I mentioned earlier." The Professor continued, a frown still on his face.

"Whether or not they work is something else, what matters is that this 40k universe is not one that is like what it is meant to be. I think that this is proof that perhaps there are other parallel universes out there that resemble our own fictional ones." Anerdson said, his face twisting into excitement.

"What do you mean by that Mr Anerdson?" Julia (they had remembered her name) asked, her face betraying just the smallest amount of impatience.

"It means that there is the possibility that we have already experienced the arrival of people from other universes that are here and secretly observing us, maybe they are even working against us! Think about it! Just because the Astra Militarum are the first ones to be open about the fact that they are from another universe doesn't mean that they are the first, ones to be from another universe! It's all a giant scam I tell you. The aliens are here and they want to watch us crash and burn for their sick little experiments.

"It's why Scion does what he does. Think about it. He just floats there looking at people like a giant pervert. He's waiting for the moment to turn earth into a giant Slaaneshi sex dungeon!" Anerdson shouted, jumping to his feet, pacing about the area around his chair agitatedly. His hands were moving up and down, his face becoming redder.

"Ummm. Mr Anerdson, if you could sit down please, the other guests need to speak as well." Julia asked, her voice rather timid. The men shook their heads at that, in that situation, it was best to just knock the man out, it was only a matter of time before he snapped and taking him out would be the best bet to avert that.

"Sit down!? Do you even know what is going on!? We are being played! We need to kill Scion and the Princess before it is too late! We are all going straight into the sex dungeons at this rate and it's not going to be the kind with safewords!" He shouted at her, face red.

"Security!" She called as he came closer, still rambling on.

Only for the Professor to demonstrate the worth of the walking stick and knock his legs from under him, sending him toppling to the floor.

The men could only grunt loudly, the man knew what he was doing. They had known he was a badass the second they saw that moustache, and the way he gripped his walking stick, like it was a beating stick. Only professional beaters did that with their sticks.

As security escorted Anerdson out, the Professor turned to Julia and smiled at her in that grandfatherly way that old men have. The one that hid the fact that they were secret badasses.

"Well, Julia the young man does have a point. Just how much are we missing in the fact that there appears to be a universe that is incredibly similar to that of fiction we already possess in our own world, while also being vastly different in having pieces from other fiction inside of it? Finding an entire factory that produces a single model of Mobile Suit? One that is also incredibly similar to the ones already in use in the Gundam Wing universe? What are the implications of that on our own world Julia? Are we experiencing some kind of crossover ourselves? What are the chances that there is something infinitely more insidious that has come into our own universe and is now waiting to come out against us? Questions to be considered I am quite sure." Said the Professor, sounding very mature and wise, as a Professor should be the men agreed.

What was the point of becoming a Professor if you weren't going to sound wise and mature when questioned about things? He was clearly playing this to the hilt, good man.

As for this show, it was interesting enough for the men to watch in between the death fights on channel 99.

George12

Dec 1, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 25

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George12

OAMU

Dec 1, 2016

#307

Colin Wallis was standing inside what had been dubbed as the Princess' Forest, or the Ellisburg forest, or the subjugation of Nilbog, or ground zero, or who knew how many other names there were.

The internet had exploded and even Dragon was having trouble keeping track of everything that was going on (well not really, he knew she had a handle on it all… somehow). As he knelt down he wondered briefly if that had been the Princess' intention, make the biggest and most explosive splash into the cape scene as she could, completely define the conversation around her exploits, make herself seem like some kind of savior… who knew.

She was defying any attempt to work out her psychological profile by the Thinkers employed on staff, something about their powers not interfacing with hers well. Terms such as 'perfect' came up far too much to be a natural occurrence. She was a trump as well adding onto her already ludicrous range that was being calculated by those same Thinkers. Almost every single one of the PRT's little power categories had been ticked in some way by the Princess making her one of the most versatile capes in existence.

As for the rest of it he did not truly care. His job as it had been described was to explore the forest, make sure that there was nothing her that could possibly kill or damage the population centers to the north, south, west, possibly east before trying to categorize just what the hell these trees were. Assisting him was a team of PRT specialists as well as Protectorate Heroes who were well versed in the investigative side of the work. They were also going to be trying to attempt to use their powers on the trees themselves and to see if they were malleable to change.

As for Armsmaster, he was working where he was best, taking samples, taking them back to a lab and then working his way through the battery of tests that he had available. Less so than his own lab back in Brockton, but not much so, his portable system that had been offered by the PRT was quite advanced in its own right.

The first tests were that of the soil, testing had discovered that it was virtually identically to that of normal soil. A good thing if not for the word "virtually" because this soil was breaking the very laws of physics itself.

Colin had read the results, tried it again, read those results then slammed his head onto the table. His unhelmeted head because fuck everything about this situation. Fuck it with his Halberd, all of the, in the ass, at the same time. Seriously, fuck everything about what the hell these results were telling him.

Colin shook his head and called out. "Dragon are you there?"

"Yes… give me a second. Just deleting the 342nd post that is calling for the Princess to be worshiped as a God. I already made a megathread for them to go and vent inside, but they keep venting out." Dragon said, her voice full of bitternesss. It appeared that the presence of the Empress had drained more of her energy than he had thought. Dealing with that much humanity every day must have been terrible, he couldn't imagine doing that on a regular basis.

The Princess was understandably an interesting character but… this… meme war that was going on was becoming rather worrying. News stations were reporting on it, entire websites having taken sides and places where Colin relied on for information, were becoming increasingly unreliable as they declared open support for one view point of the other.

It wasn't as if the question was one of extreme importance.

It was just that a very literal a religious war playing out in real time... over the internet...

One side calling for the elevation of the Imperial Creed as the state religion, the other saying that there was no such thing as a God and she was just a really powerful human. Armsmaster could see the humour in the situation, it was no doubt what debates with regards to Jesus would have been like if there had been internet during the ancient periods.

Still, this fucking soil. Fuck everything about it now that he was thinking about it again, because seriously, fuck this soil.

"Okay, Colin I'm here, what is it that you wanted to show me?" She asked.

"This. Look at what happens when it drain this here of its nutrients. The Nitrogen first." Colin said, placing the small soil sample into the little device that was waiting for him, it looked like a microwave, but it wasn't any microwave, it was an Armsmaster Special Microwave capable of 512 functions, 500 of which were different means of cooking food, but the other 12 were still useful.

Like now… and possibly only now. But it was the fact that it had 512 functions that made it special. He had spent sweat, a few bruised fingers, a cut toe (don't ask), and an irritated Dragon to get this working and he had finally found a use for it outside of cooking his dinners… and lunches… and breakfasts.

Ok.

"So the soil has had the nutrients in it removed and now I'm going to test this again aaaaaand. Here. Here it is." Collin said, his voice filled with frustration.

"They're back?" Confusion filled Dragon's voice.

"Yes, so long as they are within the boundary formed by the trees, the soil will continue replenishing its nutrients on a constant basis regardless of the laws of physics," Collin said, his head once again slamming onto the table. "Long term effects, power oriented. Possibly Shaker."

He was going to give himself brain damage at this rate, but he had asked for the most efficient means to lobotomize himself and hadn't liked the answer.

It was too painless.

"So the Princess is able to create long lasting effects in an area… that persist without her presence?" Dragon asked, incredulity filling her voice as she considered the ramifications that Colin had long since thought of.

"If we try to lay siege to her fortress, she will be able to keep her men supplied with clean air, food, and water for all eternity if we extrapolate the effects," Colin said, sounding morose. One of his options of trying to deal with the Princess having been cut off.

"Well… that too. I was considering more that if she did this more elsewhere, we could end global hunger if she could do it on a large enough scale in parts of the world that do not have fertile soil." Dragon said, sounding a little disappointed in Colin.

"Well that doesn't really matter right now does it?" Colin said a little petulantly. Just what the hell was he expected to do while the Princess was inside of his city? He couldn't advance his career if there was nothing to fight, he couldn't request a transfer what with him being the team leader, he couldn't do anything and it was frustrating to the extreme.

"You sound like you don't like the Princess," Dragon said sounding just the smallest bit amused by it.

"No. Yes. She has had an undeniably positive effect on the world by removing Nilbog, but she is making the situation in the city worse by her lack of action in the city itself. The gangs are not going to wait forever, they're going to get desperate." Colin said trying to justify himself.

A knock on the door interrupted the both of them.

Colin put back on his helmet and prepared to greet whoever it was on the other side.

"Come in!" He called out, securing the chinstrap of his helmet.

"Ah. Sir! The tree investigation team would like a word with you, sir. They say that it's urgent." Said the agent that came inside the room, full PRT gear just in case something happened while they were here.

While the Princess was tentatively on their side, she was also an unknown and the word tentative hung over their heads like an axe. They were inside the forest without her permission after all. If the trees could behave like they did when she had called them into being… well, they were going to have some very big problems that only a tiny few of them were getting out of here alive from.

Following the man over, Armsmaster once again considered the possibility of him transferring to Canada where the problems were simpler, he could get ahead without worrying about these things, and more importantly he wouldn't need to deal with the Princess anymore.

"Ah! Armsmaster! There you are. We've got a little… problem that we need your help with." Said the voice of the Chief Investigator. Someone whose name escaped him… 'Pratt' came the words on his visor. Thanking the magical wonder of technology, Armsmaster was finally able to respond.

"Pratt, what is the problem?" He asked, walking to stand next to the man as they looked at one of the smaller trees. The word smaller not really doing them justice as each was still over 30 meters tall, which was ridiculous… again. Growing that many trees from range? That was some rather terrifying abilities right there.

"Well… you see… we've been tasked with taking samples from the trees so that we can get them analyzed back at the lab. However… we haven't been able to do any of that." Said the man, his voice defeated.

"Tree too resilient?" Asked Armsmaster, gazing at the tree with a new level of appreciation. If it was able to resist the tools that the PRT had brought with them, plasma torches included without any marks from what he could see, then it was going to be in the PRT's best interests to get a hold of some to investigate the value of it as armour.

If he managed to get his hands on it and crack its secrets, then he was going to be punching his career up the ranks again, something that would be very very exciting. If not for the fact that it was the Princess he was going to have to ask for help getting the trees in the first place. A Princess he was sure was going to be a pain to work with.

All of royalty were.

"I'll try." He said, walking over to the tree and taking out a knife from his back. It always paid to be prepared for any situation and one where he didn't have his Halberd was a common scenario in his preparations.

It was of a monomolecular edge, one that would allow for him to have unparalleled first strike capabilities, but at the cost of damaging the blade. Something that was in essence, a tool to be used in a last resort situation.

If he angled it correctly in the first slash, he would hopefully be able to peel off a section of the tree to work with. A more substantive sample would require more tools that he would need to request from Brockton.

The thought of taking a tree with him came in and left again just as quickly, carried on his hoverbike and thrown out the dumpster that was his left ear.

It would not do at all if the Princess found out, what with this being a forest to 'Remember' in her words. Remember what he didn't know, but it was probably something important considering that she had been crying.

Knife flashing downwards Armsmaster felt his arm shudder, the stopping of the blade by the tree itself nearly jerking his wrist out of place given how hard he had swung at the tree.

The knife itself was wedged into the tree at a nearly vertical angle, he had been trying to get a slice after all. Only it was now stuck in the tree, only cutting through half of the projected distance before it was stopped and Armsmaster had lost himself a knife.

Gripping the handle he pulled, hard, harder, hardest, placing his foot on the tree for more stability and then trying to pull. Only it was stuck, it wasn't leaving, it wasn't changing and goddamn it he had lost himself a knife hadn't he?

Armsmaster let go and flexed his hand, ready to try again when something happened that had him jerking his jaw open in shock. The slice connected itself to the tree and then proceeded to subsume his knife.

Eating it.

"Same thing happened to us, lost all of our physical tools." Said Pratt sounding resigned.

Armsmaster was about to do something stupid like give into his emotions and kick the tree before a voice came to him over the intercom.

"We've found a fruit tree!"

What.

Last edited: Dec 2, 2016

George12

Dec 1, 2016

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Threadmarks 033

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George12

OAMU

Dec 1, 2016

#308

Madagascar. A bastion from the enemies of the world, from the plagues, from the humans. It was an island off the coast of Africa yet was also the size of a small country, a place where there was incredible genetic diversity in its flora and fauna, an island of incredible wealth and variety.

Now its people were long gone.

Leviathan had attacked, why nobody knew, the thousands who had sought refuge upon the island themselves being killed as he rampaged through it. There had been no time to assemble Capes to retaliate, in truth nobody cared enough to try. A few thousand people on an island that had no strategic value? There was no point to it and the people were not worth it. It was a pragmatic choice, but this was Africa, again the question had to be asked… who cared?

It was a brutal question and one that was asked constantly regarding the situation in Africa, just who cared? When the world was as it was, when there was a constant threat of everything that they had being destroyed… who cared about a little island whose worth had been shown as worthless?

The plants were still there, as were the animals, trying to get to it was a worry, the fear of Leviathan dissuading a majority of those that would like to try from arriving in the first place.

In short, it was an ideal location for a staging ground, a place in which the Princess' Guard could begin their operations to expand into Africa as part of their new plan.

They would not seek open conflict with they of the American people, not at this point in time. That would merely bog them down in the face of their true goal, conquest of the world.

The word conquest itself had many connotations, violent conquest with armies and weapons, or perhaps a conquest of the mind with propaganda and a very real promise to fix what was wrong with everything.

The words of the wise First Hand of the Primarch had counseled them in this. That their conquest of the United States would only serve to stoke the fires of war. The people were not ready, they were unsure, they were afraid. To take the country violently would only serve to give reason for the hundreds of millions of people within it to rise up against them and to fight, fight with everything they had. There would be countless deaths, there would be unlimited suffering and more importantly to the Princess' Guard a destruction of infrastructure. It would in the end, do nothing but waste time that they could be using to better effect elsewhere.

The manpower that would be tied down in an insurgency that was across an entire continent could instead be used to ensure that another continent would be brought under the fold of the Princess.

And so it was that the First Hand of the Princess counseled for them to begin a "hearts and minds" campaign, a concept alien to they of the Imperium. Why would they need a hearts and minds campaign when it was the Imperium? Merely shoot the dissenters and bring them back under the fold of the Imperium. They already had the hearts and minds, they were the Imperium!

But the First Hand had been adamant, this was not the Imperium, this was not what they were used to. To use force on the peoples of this world would only bring about suffering, if they wished to do so, then the armies of the Princess needed to be at such a level that they could support such actions in the first place. Something that they as of right now could not do. Not without being stretched until there were gaps all through their lines. Gaps that could be exploited by the numerous psykers that would all love to see the Princess weakened and on her knees. Something that could not be allowed to happen.

By building a fortress in Madagascar, they would open up the entire Eastern coastline for their forces. A way to invade the continent, to corral the people and then to uplift them. To provide for their needs, to provide for their wants, to provide for them at all. By doing so they would essentially create for the people of Africa a haven by which they could come, by which they could be happy, fed, clothed and sheltered, demonstrating the mercy of the Princess. It was a genius idea in hindsight, a means by which they could change the minds of those around the world without needed to shed blood.

Which meant that the Princess would be happier about it. She had been rather… different since her confrontation with the Greater Daemon of Nurgle, a little good news should go far in breaking her out of that fugue. A happy Princess was one that didn't have a constant stream of rain beating down in her room.

What was better was that in creating a haven in Africa, they were sending out a challenge to all their possible enemies in the area and possibly the world. In doing so they would attack, or at least send out their own attacks, which in turn would allow for the Imperium to kill them all. The Kriegers on the defensive were at their best and in smashing into them, the enemy would be destroying themselves, allowing for an easier conquest of the continent at a later date.

In terms of international response… there would be little or none. After all, it was Africa, it was a place that was simply not worth it to intervene in. Much like the idea that taking a starving animal into a pet store caused problems since the cost of medicating it, feeding it, training it, and then making it profitable was higher than the cost of just leaving it outside. Simply not worth it for the effort put into it and doing the same (figuratively) for Africa had left many in the international community skeptical.

If they wanted to take Africa so be it, it was not as if Africa was inherently worth anything. And those that did complain could simply be told that they had been ready and willing to abandon the continent, by what right did they now have to protest the actions of others who were objectively helping?

A victory in the hearts and minds of those around the globe, a victory in the political arena, and a possible victory militaristic victory in crushing future threats before they arrived.

And so it was that 1000 Death Korps of Krieg Engineers were sent over to Madagascar on Valkyries, rising into the atmosphere before dropping down again to minimize the risk of interception. Waiting for the one known as Simurgh to be on the other side of the planet before they did anything, they were valuable troopers and it was best not to waste them if necessary.

Accompanying them were several Engiseers, they would provide the means for more complicated construction projects, ensuring the fortress would be adequately protected. As for the Engineers, they would be fortifying the initial area that they would be using on the Island, working around the clock to flatten out the plant life, fending off the fauna (the Princess had decreed them cute and off limits), laying massive slabs of ferrocrete with which to build the base of their fortress while others still used their famous skills when it came to underground tunnels to dig deep.

The completed Madagascar Base as it would be known was going to be as deep as it was wide, a massive sprawling structure that allowed for the Princess' Guard to effectively hold the line against the world should they so wish. It would be able to hold millions of people within its bowels, all of them able to live perfectly adequate lives, a preparation for when the full regiments of the Imperium arrived.

The completed structure would have large towers, balconies, little squat unassuming huts (for now at least) and more, each filled with artillery pieces, Earthshaker cannons, Hydra Batteries, Manticore batteries, mortars, rockets and more. Anything and everything that could be used to defend against possible threats.

When they had the resources, the deep tunnels, and recesses that had been constructed would serve to hold massive weapons batteries, capable of fending off orbital attacks by massive warships in the depths of the Void. The ultimate fortress that in time would spread out and become independent of the island beneath it, spreading out over the water and into the sky, a testament to the might of the Imperium and of the Princess.

As for the question of transport, a teleportarium with a permanent psyker was being prepared, they would allow for the constant movement of people and resources through both bases, essentially linking them and making them one giant base. Reinforcements could be sent either way and in the case of a catastrophic event, evacuation to one of the bases would be possible. There would be no threats of interception, there were no Psykers in this realm to interfere, nor were there practitioners of the Dark Arts to enact their blasphemous rituals and cause the jamming of the Teleporter's beacon.

The Princess' Guard were ready for any eventuality. Should the Endbringers arrive, they would find multiple Deathstrike launchers ready for deployment, all of them pre-armed, merely awaiting the signal to fire before they did so. While conventional weaponry could not hurt them, the Vortex Warheads did not care as to their density, they would be sucked into the unreality of the Warp just as easily as anything else.

No, it was the possibility that whatever it was that created the Endbringers in the first place would visit. That would be the greatest threat and the danger that they had to be prepared for.

Another approach… a different approach was being taken in case things went terribly wrong on the planet itself.

The Engiseers had been sent to Mars, holy Mars on a pilgrimage. With the might of the Princess and of Konrad… and of 6 other psykers working in tandem, they had managed to provide a small portal through which the Engiseers could leave. They would get to work on constructing a habitation facility, and begin mining operations. Given a few weeks or possibly months, they would be able to construct terraforming plants and more. The servitors that were being grown would expand their workforce and as the Princess grew in power, she would be able to send across more hands to help.

An underground facility to house millions if not billions of people was the first priority. The second was the construction of enormous Manufactorums in which they could build their own weapons, build their own arsenal, their own greatness… and in time their Living Gods. It was here that the might of the Imperium would be put together, piece by piece, the efforts to train the natives of the planet bearing fruit in the crews for the mighty war machines they were constructing. It would be naturally underground, a means to hide from those that could move in the depths of space, notably the Simurgh.

How effective it would be against her powers was unknown, but it would force her to come closer should she wish to engage them, bringing her well into the range of their weapons batteries. Vast batteries of a scale that only the Adeptus Mechanicus could have constructed.

Once a base was established efforts would be made to mine the asteroids around the solar system, a means to garner more materials than could be requisitioned, materials that would allow for them to build frigates and cruisers with which they might aid the battle on Earth itself. While it was a concern that they would not be able to finish them in time, they would be invaluable in allowing the Princess to explore the galaxy itself after she had killed all the Endbringers, that she would fail being an impossibility in their minds.

As for they in the city of Brockton a second prong of the attack was being readied. This one was very simple yet it was strange why none had seen fit to suggest it before. They would take the needy, the homeless, the forgotten, take them into Princess Base (in a separate area), where they would be given food, shelter, medical treatment, which would then be leveraged against them. They with families would give 1 child to the Princess, they who were alone would give themselves. In return, they received everything that they needed to survive, those offered as tribute leaving, for the training halls. It was not compulsory, but the benefits of doing so far outweighed that of not. Where before they would be given adequate supplies, in giving themselves they would receive much more than what they could have ever hoped for.

They would be trained in the ways of the Imperium, the first of the Princess' Regiments. Much as the Emperor of Mankind raised his legions on Terra, so too would the Princess raise hers on her own home planet. They would be loyal to her, the psykers would make sure of that, they would be strong, they would be fast, they would be resilient, they would be resolute.

It would take time of course but in the end, they would be her most loyal soldiers, her most fanatical, her most dangerous. And when it came down to it, they would be the first to be uplifted into her Legion should she choose to have one.

They were her fists and they would crush all those that resisted her.

They would serve to demonstrate to the world the Princess' generosity, her graciousness, her selflessness, a way to win the hearts and minds as the First Hand called it.

Time marched and with it marched the Princess' Guard. There was little time and if they were to accomplish the Emperor's edicts, they would need to hasten the pace. The world was not waiting for them and so they would march to the world.

Spoiler: AN

George12

Dec 1, 2016

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Threadmarks 034 Magnus Pt 1

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George12

OAMU

Dec 2, 2016

#319

Beginning of Magnus Arc! Magnus is best Primarch! Also Red.

Magnus the Red, Magnus the Cyclops, Magnus the second most powerful psyker in the entirety of the Imperium of Man outside of his father, stood there inside the chamber that housed the Golden Throne. He considered this briefly and decided that since his father was bound to a Golden Throne, and also lacked a few very large shards from his soul, he was therefore, the most powerful and coherent psyker in the Imperium. The missing shards that included things like humility and graciousness and the things that made him much less of an… asshole. Kind of took with them coherency and… normality.

It made sense really, the Emperor was feeling untold amounts of rage when he had been interred in the Throne, and when the stress of being on the Throne shattered his soul into countless shards and sent them throughout the galaxy in both the Imperium and the Immaterium, the ones that remained closest to him were the ones he resonated most clearly with.

That being the rage, the asshole factor, and the sheer amount of snark that the Emperor possessed. He was the Emperor of Mankind, that much was sure, just why he was so… bad… was another question that had to be answered at some point. Magnus had been searching the Imperium for thousands of years at this point, collecting Shards and putting them back in with the Emperor, trying to rebuild him piece by piece, only to find out that the Emperor never really improved.

The question then that had to be asked was… was the Emperor always an asshole and he never noticed it? He had been in contact with his father since he was a child, his prodigious psykic powers allowing him to talk to his father since his "birth". Now that he thought back on it however, the Emperor had been teaching him, not really communicating.

It made so much sense then that he had been a closet asshole the whole time.

Magnus being the one that was almost always by his side meant that he was essentially the verbal punching bag for the Emperor to let loose his frustrations with the galaxy at large. Even if Magnus had no part to play in the proceedings, he was still castigated for things like the creation of the Grey Knights who hoarded all of their Daemon Killing prowess to themselves.

Or maybe the Caretakers who he swore he had not created in the first place, but when they had an order cylinder that contained the Emperor's own psykic power as a signature, well, it was hard to believe his father. Especially when he was missing such a large part of his memories, what with the shards making off with them because if they were like the main shard, then they were very likely terrible people as well.

Magnus considered why it was that he was doing this in the first place, then he considered it was not just about his father, but rather about the impact that the rest of the Imperium would feel if his father could once again walk and command the armies of the Imperium.

It would create an upwelling of support and if he managed to unite the Imperium again, then perhaps the galaxy would finally be theirs and they could just finally live in an Imperium that was not under constant siege by the forces of the Xeno and those within.

It was a dream that was worth striving for and he would do his very best to make it come true. If only for the fact that if it did, he would be able to finally leave and do what he wanted for so long. To write the best magical spell book in existence and to prove that Magic and Psykic Powers were indeed a match for the pure brawn that his brothers employed.

He would need to find his brothers in the first place, but it wasn't going to be too difficult he was sure… except for Russ, the wolf-begotten idiot had gone into the Eye of Terror for a reason known only to him and it was ridiculous that even now he had to clean up after his brother who acted as if life was a giant yard for him to run around in.

Magnus thoughts turned to his sister, the newest Primarch, one of soul instead of genetics but growing steadily more powerful. She was not quite ready to initiate a conversation with him, what with her being in an entirely different dimension, one that was not the Immaterium, but apparently what was on the other side of the Immaterium. Something that was rather disturbing now that he thought about it.

Regardless the young Primarch, an infant really should be adapting to her powers and keeping herself low until she reached adulthood and came into her powers fully. Only then would she be able to do what it was that she wanted. Apparently, there was something to do with things like uniting the world? His father had a brief moment of lucidity and narrated a few goals for her to pursue before falling back into his ramblings.

He was truly falling apart and at this rate, he wouldn't be able to do anything more than mutter incoherently until the newest shard that Magnus had coaxed back with his powers had merged with him fully. It was always a prolonged process, more so if the shard itself was a large one, the clashing of 2 personalities causing both of them to melt into a soup of personality and snark as they merged.

Magnus therefore, was left at some odds and ends, one that would probably last a few years at this rate.

A brief moment of lucidity followed by a prolonged period of ranting, rambling, and general terribleness. Nobody would blame him if he just left for a moment, would they?

He had not spoken to his sister in 3 months and it would be rather interesting if he surprised her by showing up wouldn't it?

Having a sibling that he could talk with about their powers without coming face to face with the disdain of the other Primarchs for psykic powers, or their indifference would be rather enjoyable. He might even be able to train her in using her powers properly, granted she did have a Sojourner that had been sent across using the combined powers of himself and his father, but that didn't mean that she didn't have holes in her training. He could totally teach her to use his favourite spell, the one that inverted gravity in a localised area and flew all the targets into the air… then dropped them so they could go splat.

Or maybe the one that let him read 100 books a minute with his 100 eyes, Cyclops! Hah! More like… HunnieOps… maybe not.

Yes, this was a very good idea. He would pop in, chat with her and then pop back out. Or maybe he would stay for a little bit before leaving again? Maybe she needed assistance with those Xeno that he had detected while he was scanning the world for her in the first place. Those with souls that resembled that of Machine Spirits as opposed to actual xeno, and the one that… resembled a C'tan, only before it had been interned in a metal body. A large blob that had some impulses but very little ability to consider rational thought was what he got from it, immensely powerful but at the same time immensely limited. Then there were those that resembled Machine Spirits, but in so much that they were a pre-programmed set of impulses that gained souls over time.

Interesting all the same.

A good challenge for his sister when she finally mastered her powers, she would be able to fight him head-on he hoped. It was the worst of the homeworld challenges that she or any of the other Primarchs had faced, but at the same time it was a world that was full of humans and few xeno, much easier to unite when compared to Angron who had been born and shoved with those Butcher's Nails, or maybe Russ who had been raised on a death world of fire and ice, or his own where the mutants had been able to use magics and were a deadly force that tried to attack and destroy humanity numerous times.

Hers was a simple battle and in that he envied her.

Magnus nodded to himself, yes, he would pop over and talk to his little sister for a moment. It would be interesting to see what a Primarch who had originally been human would think like. Maybe he could include her in one of his books? He had written a truly staggering amount of them in the thousands of years he had spent in the Imperial Palace, his Thousand Sons all sending back information they had found on their own search for information and knowledge.

Granted there were more than a few thousand romance works in there, but those were needed so he could refresh his mind… It wasn't like he enjoyed them or anything... He even made sure to write them under a pen name. Magnex. The greatest fake name ever, nobody would ever be able to link him to it.

Nodding to himself Magnus flicked his hand upward and carefully locked onto the signature of his sister and opened a portal next to her. Shoving his hand through it and waving to indicate that something was coming through, Magnus walked over and ouch.

Why was the ceiling so low? Seriously? Who designed this place? Why were his shins not moving?

Did they not know that Primarchs were tall? Granted he was much taller than the average Primarch at 5 meters tall, but that didn't excuse them for building a room that was simply inadequate.

He was going to need to complain to someone about this.

Concentrating Magnus used his powers to shrink himself, drawing the excess matter into the warp to be left there for when he wanted to be normal again. He was a Primarch after all, a majority of his body was made up of solidified Warp energy instead of actual flesh. It had drawn some very unpleasant parallels between the existence of the Primarchs and that of the Daemons of the Warp. Being told that they were very much Daemons but… good… well, that had been a slap in the face of applied knowledge and he had decided to keep that little bit of information to himself.

Granted a portion of their bodies was also the human genetic structure, so they weren't true Daemons, but it was still unsettling when it came down to it.

Magnus shrank and looked about the room that he was in with curiosity. The entirety of it was… green. Very very green. Lots of flowers, lots of moss, lots of grass, there being vines of some kind that grew all over the walls, their leaves and their fruits hanging from the ceiling as if this was some kind of smorgasbord.

It was… as if somebody had taken a jungle world and then shoved it into this room. It was certainly interesting, to say the least. Only the soft mist of rain was a concern.

Walking over to the vine in question he placed his hands on it and nodded briefly. It looked like it was made mainly of Warp Energy, rather… it had the composition of a Primarch but replacing the human part of it with plant matter.

In fact, if he wasn't wrong… this could last effectively forever, drawing energy from the Immaterium to power its growth and giving it the same regenerative capabilities that all the Primarchs were capable of.

Remarkable. There could only be one person that could do something like this, and she was very clearly growing into her powers at a prodigious rate. As for the plants under his feet, well those were different again. These were made up primarily of Warp Energy, whereas the vine might have been something like 75% Warp Energy, 25% Plant matter, these little things were 99% Warp Energy. Leave them on their own for too long and they would eventually disintegrate, a nice little novelty skill that he was going to have to ask his sister to demonstrate for him at some point.

Standing up and plucking one of the fruits from the tree, Magnus considered the bright pink ball-like thing in his hands. It was certainly… a normal fruit. As in no Warp Energies at all, which was strange, the fact that there were fruits at all were strange.

Then again it was made from a plant that was primarily the Warp, strange should have been expected. It wouldn't have any effects really from what he could see of it, even if it was just a little strange… a perfectly spherical little ball of tree flesh.

Taking a bite and… 'enjoying' the flavour, Magnus looked around the room and oh. There was his sister. Who was looking rather shocked. He didn't know why exactly but she was not looking the best right now, rather tired which should have been impossible for a Primarch if they were just doing nothing... unless they were Perturabo.

He smelt problems, problems that family could solve! He hadn't had one of those yet and he would make the most of this situation.

George12

Dec 2, 2016

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Threadmarks 035 Magnus Pt 2

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George12

OAMU

Dec 2, 2016

#320

Magnus walked over to his sister and waved.

"Hello Taylor, I am Magnus, the one that spoke with you 3 months ago. It's nice to finally be able to see you." He said smiling as he did so.

She was looking at him like he was suspicious… which he could understand. Random red guy popping out in the middle of your room, fondling your plants, eating your fruits then waving hello, but he was Magnus the Red, like seriously, how hard was it to identify who he was? 5 meter tall (now 2) Primarchs who also had one eye and red skin weren't exactly all over the ground now were they?

Well except for Magnar his clone, but he was currently Rogue Trading with his Cruiser and his fleet and his harem and dammit Magnus was jealous. He couldn't have asked Magnar to stay, it wasn't like he was attached to the Emperor at all, he had never even met the man… at least met the man when he was coherent... but still, it would have been nice to share the suffering with someone else.

"Ummm. You're here. In my room. You're red." She said, her words coming out rather disjointed.

He grinned at her, it looked like he had managed to startle her into incoherence, he had never been able to do that as regularly as his brothers had. Sure he was big, but he never managed to get that sense of aura down like his brothers had.

Yes I am, recognize me now?

He asked inside her mind, sending a telepathic message to her and grinning as her eyes widened even more as he did so.

"What are you doing here? How are you here?" She asked, straightening up from what he assumed was her bed. Going for the Eldar queen of the forest he could see what with her plants and the like going everywhere. It was a rather nice effect if he had to say something about it, really made her look like a Queen. The way she could recline on a bed of nature or whatever it was the children were calling it these days.

The Primarch Queen… he could see the reviews now.

"I came to visit, my duties with our father are temporarily over for the time being. I just traced your signature and made my way over to you, it is a skill that you will no doubt develop with time." Magnus said smiling at her. He had read that smiling disarmed people (figuratively) and he was aching to try it out on somebody that wasn't an awestruck Imperial Clerk, or a Custodes who treated him like he was just a fixture in the Imperial Palace (which he was). Which admittedly he had done little to change, but maybe if they smiled back every now and again, and maybe acknowledged his attempting to get to know them better. Well, that and the fact that quite a few of them had gone off the deep end, that hadn't been fun to watch.

Still, he was here now and he had a sister to share his knowledge with. Knowledge was useless if it was being kept and not shared after all.

"Well… I don't want you here! Go away!" She shouted, shocking Magnus. Was this the infamous rebellious stage that all children went through? She was really growing up fast, hadn't she? Still, something was wrong and maybe he should begin applying some of that knowledge he had picked up.

"What is wrong Taylor? You seem to be rather agitated." He said, grinning inside. Nailed it, the perfect 'concerned' tone, non-aggressive body language, the actual language could do some work but he was ad-libbing it here.

"Why don't you ask your father!" She said, sounding on the verge of tears. That was strange what had his father done that was so impactful that she was crying. Granted he was a terrible father but in the way that induced rage instead of tears.

Then again his father had done nothing, he had been there making sure that he did exactly nothing after all. In the initial stages of absorbing another Shard, the Emperor of Mankind tended to lash out wildly and sometimes creating vast Warpstorms that lasted the entire time he was integrating the new shard, other times condemning entire worlds to oblivion by withdrawing the light of the Astronomicon from them.

It was something that Magnus had learnt had been an issue early on and made sure that the Emperor was contained every time he absorbed a new shard. Too many deaths were already on his conscience, he didn't need more. The guilt that he was already feeling was enough to last an eternity.

Of course, this meant that his Father had been able to do exactly nothing in the last 3 months. Whatever had caused this was not his father… for once. A record he was sure.

"Father had not been able to do anything for the last 3 months, Taylor, I've personally made sure of that." He said, electing to walk over and sit down next to her. Genius! In doing so he made himself at least on her level or lower which would only make her more comfortable with this conversation. Magnus clapped himself on the shoulder at that (metaphorically, doing it literally only caused people to look at him funny… even the Custodes).

"What do you mean?" She asked, looking at him rather suspiciously.

"He's currently absorbing another shard of his soul, I've bound him to make sure he doesn't lash out at anything with his powers in the meantime. Either me or Magnar have been monitoring him every second of the day to make sure he doesn't do anything. It is just not possible for him to have done something to you, not with us making sure he couldn't." Magnus said, explaining himself, making sure that he moved his hands as he talked, a particularly mortal thing to do, but one that made him seem rather obviously… mortal.

"If he hasn't done anything, then what was the message that I got two weeks ago? The one that said I needed to grow up and needed to learn to kill or something." Taylor said, sounding rather… anguished actually.

Magnus was at a loss. Since she was family protocol dictated that he initiate physical contact with her to comfort her, but he didn't know her well enough to really be considered family. His hands were uselessly clutching at the air as he considered the problem. Just what was he supposed to be doing here?

Ummmm.

Magnus settled for the standard patting her on the back method that he had seen on the Pict-Vids that he would vehemently deny watching. And also send whoever accused him of watching them into the depths of the Warp.

"Why don't you show me what was said?" He asked, voice as soothing as possible.

"How do I do that?"

"Just send the memory to me like so." He said, partially with his mouth, partially with his soul, smiling at her as he did so. She looked rather funny being as confused as she was.

It didn't take her long to get the hang of it, expected really given that she was his sister and likely possessed a similar level of power as he did, at least when she was fully matured that was.

It started like this…

Magnus sat back staring at the ceiling above him that was beginning to rain even harder this time. A localised effect that had no permanent effects on the ferrocrete beneath the plant-life. A rather interesting and intriguing effect, one that was also distracting him from the real matter at hand.

Magnus indulged himself slightly by slapping himself on the forehead and groaning loudly much to Taylor's surprise and worry. The spike of emotion from her told him that much at least.

"I'm sorry Taylor, I never considered the possibility." Magnus started, sounding genuinely apologetic as he did so.

"You have a shard that is integrated into your soul, however there clearly is another shard that is out there and it has been talking to you as the Emperor." Magnus finished, looking at her rather shamefully. "It is my job to corral in shards of the Emperor's soul to make sure they don't cause problems and to allow the Emperor to recover faster. I'm sorry that I didn't notice the shard that was here in the first place and helped you avoid all of this angst." He said, sighing as he did so.

"You were never meant to go out like this Taylor, we wanted to give you the Regiments so that you could protect yourself and hide until you were an adult and had the full power that came with it. This changes everything and I am sorry that it happened to you." Magnus continued.

"So… this Shard… it… what is it exactly?" Taylor asked, sounding surprised.

Magnus jolted and then remembered his own lessons to her originally, they touched on the fact that a shard of the Emperor had fused to her soul but not much more than that. He had been remiss in his education of his sister he could see.

"Well you see Taylor, a Shard is a shard of the Emperor's soul that has spread through the galaxy and clearly into the next dimension following the shattering of his soul when he was placed on the Golden Throne in his weakened state. Each of these shards possess a small part of his power and often believe themselves to be him in their entirety. What this means for you, is that the shard thinks that it is the Emperor, and is trying to guide you. Only the problem is that the shards are all pieces of the Emperor, and as such they all have a slice of his memories and personality, but none of them have exactly the same one. So this one clearly is one of the more… manipulative ones out there." Magnus said, wringing his hands in front of her ineffectually.

What if he had not come and she had decided that all of the Imperium was like that? He could have lost another sibling to Chaos.

"So this isn't the real Emperor that's been talking to me?" She asked sounding rather relieved as she did so.

"Sort of. It is at once the real Emperor and it is not. Remember it is a shard of the Emperor's soul, as diminished as it is, it is still the Emperor. However, it is not since it also does not possess the full faculty of thought that the Throne Emperor does. These are all fragmented and extreme since they do not have other traits to balance them out." Magnus explained to her, wriggling himself down to get a better seat.

"So it's not the real Emperor, what can I do from here?" She asked, looking confused, relieved and angry.

"If there is a situation where you think that there has been a change that has come from the Shard, contact me as soon as you can and I'll do what I can't to reverse it. I can't take the shard now, the Emperor is already in the process of integrating a Shard, it is going to take at least a few more years. Bringing another one in will only destabilise the process and I won't be able to control it, which means many billions are going to be affected by it. Just give me a call and I'll do everything I can to help you." Magnus said, patting Taylor on the shoulder again.

"So I'm on my own again?" She asked rather bitterly.

"No, I'm here for you Taylor," Magnus said, inserting a small amount of power into her psyke.

"What di… oh. Oh." Taylor smiled.

"Yes, if you ever need some help or just want to talk to someone little sister, just call me through that link. I don't have much I need to do for the next few years as it is." Magnus said grinning at her. It was a little uncomfortable being in a smaller body, but it wasn't so bad since he could talk to his little sister who had not once while he had been explaining things interrupted him at all.

She was a good little sister that was for sure.

"Thanks, Magnus. Just… how do you deal with it? What about those that die because of you?" She asked. Magnus tilted his head in askance. That was certainly sudden. Then again he was the only other Primarch she was able to talk with, it wasn't as if anyone else could understand the responsibility on their shoulders.

"The killing, just… how do you do it?" She asked, looking… oh. That was bad, she was not handling this very well, was she? He hadn't either the first time he had killed, it had changed him and not in a good way.

"It is very simple, we did it because we have to. Our enemies are not willing to negotiate and so we end them. As for your own situation, I can see your concern. Hmmm. Taylor, you have to think about things like this, the Regiments under your command have been raised in the Imperium, they are a hammer and every problem is a nail.

"But for your world, it doesn't need to be like that, you are a Primarch, the only things that are impossible to you are those which you don't care enough to attempt. You do not wish to have lives lost because of you, a foreign thought to on such as myself, but I can understand it. It is your world Taylor, do as you see fit, do not allow others to tell you how it should be done.

"For those that die, they die because of your order. Their lives are your responsibility, but their lives are not your own. Remember them, thank them, keep them in your thoughts, but do not let their deaths take over your life. It is harsh advice but there is little that you can do for this Taylor. You can either separate yourself from them so that you do not become attached, or you can remember each and every one of their sacrifices. There is not much more I can tell you, Taylor, we all deal with loss in our own ways. I remember each and every one of my sons that died in battle, died to their mutations, died because their powers went out of control. It never stops hurting Taylor, but I would do it again, their sacrifice saved countless lives.

"As for the future, remember, each Primarch's homeworld is governed by them alone, the Imperium will not step in and if you are afraid of what the Imperium brings with it, you can simply forbid it. If you want to do this your way, then you can. Those around you are your advisors, not your masters. Make your own decisions Taylor, you will make mistakes, as we all have. But you will learn and in making a mistake now, you do not do so later and cost the lives of millions. Do not hide yourself, the cost for those following you will only grow higher.

"Taylor… what I have just said is advice, you can ignore it if you wish, you can take it in if you desire. You are a Primarch you are not to be dictated to, you are the one who dictates.

"Now, do you want me to stay or maybe I can leave so you can get some sleep." Magnus said, standing up again and wandering through her room.

"Stay, please. I don't want him… it to mess with me again." She said, sounding tired, afraid.

"Then sleep sister, I'll keep the world away for you," Magnus said smiling at her.

He would be taking this opportunity to spread his senses out, maybe there would be collections of knowledge on this world for him to peruse remotely. It wouldn't be as good as doing it in person, but he would mark those of particular interest for later study.

When she woke again he would head out and experience this world. Just from a brief scan, he could feel over a dozen different repositories of knowledge, that many books… new books… all of them waiting for him to discover and read them. To touch their pages and feel as they imparted their delicious and delectable knowledge upon him.

Mmmmm.

Spoiler: AN

George12

Dec 2, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 26

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George12

OAMU

Dec 3, 2016

#333

Argh Captain! We need to dump the Ballast!

Gonna be dumping off Interludes/Side chaps today and tomorrow. Have a major storybeat that needs them out of the way before they become obsolete.

Bazza was a good bloke.

In all senses of the word, he was an all round battler, ready to get stuck in no matter what the circumstances were, always with a helping hand outstretched for his mates.

He was the perfect Catachan, the poster boy that epitomised the Catachan values of having a fair go and killing all those fucking Xeno.

As for Bazza himself, he was a laid back bloke, always ready to have an Emu Draft every now and again, ready to get in there and share a few snags on the barbie. At the same time, he was already ready to get in there and have a good brawl if that was how things were going, his fists ready to give anyone that need it a good bashing.

They were all good values, of course, however where Bazza truly excelled was when it came to things like using his skull to work out things of biggest importance. More importantly than that, he was patient.

Not patient as in 'another 30 seconds on the grill", but 'another 3 weeks before the bastard leaves the bunker again' patient. Just lying there in the same place, eye to the scope, ready to do whatever it was that was needed to punch holes in the enemy, to crush and burn, to make his way through thick and thin. His eyes always watching, his trigger fingers twitching, his mind always on the go.

He knew what was expected of him and he wouldn't have it any other way. He was a Catachan and he knew that if you fucked up, then dying would be the easiest way out of a situation.

For those reasons, he was given the Long-las of the squad, a sniper rifle that fired a pure beam of light unlike the more red streams that the conventional las-carbines fired. These were instead invisible, or in other words, light. A beam of pure light that could punch its way through more flesh and armour than even a hotshot lasgun. At the same time it suffered from the fact that it was a lasgun and it left a very telltale mark as to what it was that had killed the target as well a very clear indicator of where the shot had come from in the first place, the massive entry would and the direction the explosion of blood pointed being tells of the highest order.

For the times when discretion was needed, he made use of a shard rifle. Using crystallised neurotoxin fired in a tiny shard shaved off the larger block, it entered the target's bloodstream and in seconds would see them dead of heart failure. It required the target to have open skin for the shard to enter, or at least thin clothing, requirements that made it a better assassination tool than an actual weapon in the heat of combat.

It was part of why he was employing it in this situation actually, he had been sent to gather information on the many different directors of the PRT who might be able to influence the actions of those in the Princess Base area.

A concern that was shared with him by the Sergeant who then had him check each and every one of them. In case the Piggot woman died due to her failing body, they wanted to have a personality profile to match them with and to also have a hands-on one. One that came from humans eyes instead of trying to use the Engiseers who had everyone sorted into little boxes… but chopping off the arms and legs first, or reports which could be doctored.

Bazza had the eyes, he had the ears, and he had the authority to end them if the situation demanded it. There would be no way to trace him, the neurotoxin turned to harmless haemoglobin after a few minutes, meaning that so long as the target was not tested within 5 minutes, there would be no indication that the death was anything but natural.

The current objective was an individual who went by the name of Tagg, an adequate man who did his duty. He was a little overzealous but in the Imperium it was better to be a little overzealous than to be a little underzealous.

When it came down to it, Bazza felt that they would be able to work with the man once the boundaries that both sides would respect had been met. Initial dialogue might prove difficult but the man was a military man, he knew the importance of protocol and establishing respect.

Yes, this Tagg would prove to be very useful should a replacement be needed.

Piggot was adequate, her inaction regarding the Princess' Guard allowed for them to expand and grow without conflict with the local forces. Fred had stolen a march on them and was already fraternising with one of the local psykers, intelligence forward base his ass. He had always been quick on the ball, just how he knew just how to do it was another story.

As for Bazza, he was finishing up his vigil over the man, the small pieces of technology that allowed for him to hear what the man was saying inside his own home over Bazza's Vox Caster would have to be retrieved.

The man was the same at home as he was outside, demonstrating his consistency, an important matter to consider for military commanders. The same could be said for many things, so long as a person was stable then they were worth looking into. Having one personality throughout was a key indicator as to the reliability of the man. Would they be influenced by a split personality, would they be weak, would they be useful?

Leave the flipping and the flopping to the nobles, a commander needed to be able to make a decision and stick with it. Bazza approved of the man.

Next on the list of potential leaders to investigate was one known as Dan Seneca. Unlike Tagg he was more of an Arbite than a colonel, hopefully, he would prove competent as well. Having incompetent leadership could spell the doom of even the most decorated of Regiments. He had seen it far too many times himself, a new Colonel, a new style, casualties of the highest order because of the Colonel's failings, a Regiment destroyed.

The Colonel then dying to an 'Ork sniper', truly tragic it was. Just walking along, spouting off nonsense, trying to offset the blame, and all of a sudden for no reason at all his chest cavity would explode outward spraying all those around him with giblets and bone shards.

No reason at all, Bazza was too busy mourning the dead.

Sad times and a stubbie to toast the lads whenever he had the time.

The new man was interesting. Not a military man but not local law enforcement either as his profile had said he would be. The man was much more of an Arbite in the manner he conducted himself, very methodical, very careful, making sure that he always had the full picture whenever he wanted to get something done.

Very interesting indeed.

If they were going to have a new leader in the event that the Piggot woman was killed, then he would be an adequate choice as well. While not as direct as that of Tagg, he would still be influenceable by the way that he used the gathering of evidence to help manufacture and create his own opinion. It would be difficult but they would be able to lead him without many issues.

The other method was to simply have Maxine talk to him, she had quite a bit of experience when it came to dealing with Arbites, part of her station after all. They were similar to Inquisitors, enough so that they would be able to transfer some experience when it came to dealing with one to the other.

Just without the burning and the executions.

As for Bazza himself, he was considering the possibility that he do something along the lines of checking upon other high profile leaders of the PRT itself. The two were the ones who were slated as the most likely replacements of Piggot if she were to be killed. The possibility that she would be replaced was low enough that it did not truly count as a question. The leadership would be interested in keeping the same face when trying to deal with the Princess's Guard after all.

If they simply replaced her, it would speak volumes as to the competency of their staff and their stability as a whole. A problem when dealing with a possible equal of superior in terms of power both politically and socially.

The Princess had stirred some very big waves when she had taken out the Greater Daemon of Nurgle. She had revealed her face, she had used her powers, she had taken out a Greater Daemon of Nurgle for one thing.

So many little things, so many possible interpretations of it all that could change the entire landscape if they failed to divert the public conversation in the correct manner. A problem for the Cogboys he was sure, they were doing… something… when it came to the technology that would allow for them possible control the conversation, a method that was working given that humans were very much a reactionary species.

Simply drop in the correct words here and there and the entire conversation could be guided, the Mechanicus had quite a bit of experience with that. They did help the Inquisition and Arbites in formulating planet wide messages in order that they get information out to the people as quickly and as efficiently as possible, while forcing conversation to go the way they wanted it to.

Bazza wasn't too sure on the particulars, but he had seen it enough times in his own Regiment to question its use. For someone that didn't speak all that often, it was easier for him to notice when the behaviours of those around him changed.

Back on topic, Bazza still had a week before he was due to report back, a week where he was effectively free to do whatever it was he wanted. Something that he was rather… worried about in all honesty. What was he supposed to do for a week? All the books he liked to read were back at base and without a concrete target, he would start fidgeting again which was something he had fought to keep under control lest he make a fool of himself.

A question for the ages… what to do when bored?

Bazza thought long and hard as he perched on the rooftop of one of the cities in the United States. It was a nice rooftop, the kind that had nice little edges to it that allowed you to do your thing inside of them without being seen by those outside. Not that it really mattered actually… not when it was the roof of a hab block. Sure it wasn't as tall as the ones inside the Hive Cities, but this was the tallest they had and he had to make the most of the situation.

As he sat back and reclined his head against the wall, Bazza considered that maybe he could head further South, possibly even explore whatever this Mexico was. He had seen some of their people in the city and they looked rather strange. The entire culture apparently revolving around the idea of wearing capes and very large hats.

Actually maybe not. That would just be weird.

Maybe he could ask for an extended mission and go visit the Catachan Light country, the one with the deadly animals and insects. Only it was with the bright and ugly sun instead of an actual jungle, but he could adapt. He had served with a few Tallarns and they knew how to keep a man cool in the desert. Took a little working to be sure, but what did a man have but time?

As he leant back, Bazza saw what looked to be a woman floating down over him. A psyker then?

She was wearing a mask of some kind, a skin tight suit… a Callidus assassin? What was one of them doing here? Any why was she flying? Weren't the assassins meant to be some kind of… non-psykics? This was certainly something different.

Looking up at her he waved his hand.

"The Princess send you assassin?" He asked, curiosity in his voice.

"Assassin?" She asked, sounding confused which was strange, didn't she know what she was?

"You're from the Officio Assassinorum aren't you?"

"No."

Oh.

This was awkward.

George12

Dec 3, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 27

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George12

OAMU

Dec 3, 2016

#334

"Price, remind me again why we are doing this?"

"Because we are the Phantine Skyborne and we can't keep letting those fucking Catachans upstage us all the damned time."

"Yes. Because that explains why we are about to sneak our way into a mountain."

"Yes, because in here is the most advanced reconnaissance technology on the planet all linked to a single area. Placing a tap onto it will allow our Engiseers to access the technology without needing to go the long way in. Which means that we are going to have a massive array of technology ready for us to use."

"And this means that we have to go in why exactly?"

"Because we are the fucking best Soap and I'm not about to let some fucking shirtless wankers come in and act like they're the be all and end all. Fuck that, fuck it with a pole topped with a chainsword."

"A chain halberd?"

"Fuck off with your names and shit Soap. We got a fucking mountain to penetrate."

"Right. So, how are we doing this Price?"

"Well, I have intel that says we a series of vents that we can use to sneak in. As long as we use the camo cloaks properly the fuckers won't even notice we're here."

"And if they do?"

"Standard protocol Soap, we detonate."

"Gee Price, I'm glad you're picking the easier missions in your old age."

"Enough of that lip, we've got a war to start."

"What?"

"I mean we have a mission to complete."

"Riiiiight. Price you're not going to start something are you?"

"No. What could possibly give you that impression?"

"The fact that I'm talking to the man that dropped a Vortex Missile his own side to kill off an Ork Waaagh?"

"Perfectly justified."

"And what you're planning to do here?"

"Just a little war, nothing to be concerned about."

"And this little war is directed at who?"

"Just going to make it so that the area around the staging area is harder to keep an eye on, allow us to move around more freely."

"So you want to go pick a fight with the locals?"

"They started it. Fucking wankers are saying I'm bullshitting. I'll fucking show them bullshitting. It will be bullshit how fucking easily I shove my boot up their asses."

"Dammit Price, I thought the Princess wanted to keep a low profile."

"This is low profile, fucking as low profile as it can possibly get unless these wankers are also fucking grasses."

"Well, we aren't going to be starting a war Price the Princess isn't going to look on that very kindly."

"Fine fuck. We won't start a war, I just have the button to start a war if they won't listen."

"Ok, that's better I suppose. What the fuck are we meant to be doing?"

"Push in the boot up their assholes."

Soap sighed.

"And I suppose I'm included in this?"

"Of course you are, I need a spotter."

"Riiight. Let's get this vent open why don't we? Reminds me of fucking Ultranationaliststan, that Deathstrike Silo at the end was just another level of bullshit."

"This one is just a vent. Use your grav-chute and make sure to avoid the blades, they move slower than the ones in Ultranationaliststan."

"Not a glowing endorsement there Price."

"Well, it's the best one I can fucking give. Now, you ready?"

"What about alarm systems?"

"The cogboys have disabled them for thirty minutes, gives us enough time to get in, do what we need to and get the fuck out again."

"Right. And how are we doing that?"

"We hitch a ride on one of their transports."

"Ok then. Let's get cracking."

Soap landed with a light thud at the grate that marked one of the vents that took air out of the facility to avoid it becoming poisonous through an excess of carbon dioxide. That and to take out all the hot air if the amount of sweat dripping down his ballsack was any indication. These fucking suspenders and straps around his legs always made it so everything was tight, meaning he didn't have any spare fabric he could use to scratch the damned things.

Fucking ridiculous the things he had to put up with, not being able to scratch your balls on a combat mission without awkwardly humping random fucking objects in the environment? They hadn't told him that would be his most pressing concern for 90% of the time he was deployed. The other 10% being trying to avoid being shot in the face by the variety of things that would very much like to shoot him in the face. There was far too damn many of those fuckers around, which admittedly was much more fair compared than those who had made these clothes.

He hadn't picked a fight with anyone that would get him to stop scratching his balls, he wasn't insane.

Swearing softly he groaned slightly before moving forward, time to get something done, Price was about to land next to him.

The two of them if the map he was holding was correct, would be making their way to the control center, planting the little device, then escaping out the other side. It would have to be done carefully, of course, the scrapcode that had infected the facility by an external attack by the Engiseers gave them a 30 minute in which the detection measures were offline.

Stupid little local PDF had no idea on what operational security was supposed to mean. Pick up little interface sticks, shove them in like a greasy sausage into a slit. Fucking idiots, it was like they wanted to be attacked by anything with a bit of scrapcode. Entire fucking facility going offline and they wouldn't even notice.

In turn, that meant they would need to push through the facility, plant the device and get the fuck out before the timer was up, if they were still inside, the large variety of technology that would detect them would begin screaming almost immediately, screwing them in a major way.

And so it was that they got moving, there was no point waiting for an invitation.

The cloaks themselves could be used to cover their entire bodies if they crouched down, something that was going to make things uncomfortable, to say the least. Man was not made to crouch walk through an entire facility and not emerge out the other wide with an uncomfortable waddle.

And burning thighs.

But.

The mission called for it and he always got the job done, which was why he was here… alive.

The corridors stretched in front of them, both of them making sure their boots were clean and everything securely stowed before they went in. There wouldn't be any dusty footprints to give them away, no random objects being dropped on the ground from under the cloak to alert a passerby, no sudden movements to make the cloak shimmer and tell them that something was afoot.

The cameras after all, had been left enabled, having it disabled would tell the local enforcement that the system had been compromised and prompt in turn a massive search.

Something that defeated the purpose of trying to insert scrapcode into the central systems to make sure it used the scrapcode to develop a backdoor and a link to the Engiseers and they could declare that their job was done.

The crawl was excruciating, mentally and physically. The way they had to wait for people as they walked past, slight movements having the effect of causing the cloak to shimmer meaning that it was highly likely that someone with a sharp eye would be able to tell that something was there. Every few steps interrupted by what felt like a never ending stream of base personnel. It was too bad that they couldn't just kill a few, that always worked well when working against cultists and Orks, not so well against an established military, unless one wanted to immediately destroy the base in question.

Crawling, crawling, crawling. Slowly. There. The control room.

If the map was correct then they were inside the facility and this was the target of their little endeavour when it came to the scrapcode.

The 2 of them carefully peered in and around, finding no way into the room itself that didn't require them having identification of some kind.

Interesting.

An alternative method had to be found, the door was far too much of a chokepoint with a constant stream of those entering and exiting the room itself. Then again the room needed power, what if they simply injected the scrapcode into the data-wires that extended out from the room itself?

The question was where exactly one would find a box conveniently labelled as… "conduits" because of course, it was.

Soap had to resist slamming his head into the wall, the way these people just… gave them the answers was just ridiculous. Did they not think… that people could infiltrate in the first place. That was actually not a bad assumption actually.

Tracing the conduit cabling back to its source inside another room that also contained another box that was what they were looking for, the data-cable running parallel to it since some things just transcended universes. Especially bad security practices. The two of them worked to quietly remove the cover, plant the scrapcode injector, wait until it did its business of crapping out scrapcode like a particularly annoying bird back on Phantine itself.

The damned bird just sprayed it all over the fucking walls and anything behind it, not like the nice big eyes beasties that shat out cubes of shit.

Scrapcode planted, it was back to work. Replacing the cover they got moving, time to get to the vehicle depot, hitch a ride underneath the trucks heading out and then making their way to the exfiltration, which was over 50 kilometers away. Because of course it fucking was.

Soap gave a brief sigh from underneath his cloak and pressed on, the damned vehicle wouldn't wait forever. It wasn't even properly armoured, just this… thing that they had bought with "money" or paper as it was in this universe. Just 4 wheels, 4 doors for some reason and glass… glass everywhere. Hadn't they heard of the idea of armour and vision slits?

As baffling as their decisions regarding vehicles were, the vehicle was their only way to get out so it had better still be there. The anti-theft protocols were ridiculous, where was the explosive booby traps, the complete destruction of the holy gearbox if someone tried to enter it without the proper authentications?

Ridiculous is what it was.

The vehicle depot itself wasn't that difficult to infiltrate, the entire thing being a noisy cavern of constantly moving vehicles, of cargo being shipped out, of people rushing here and there. It was a simple matter of finding a vehicle that was being loaded or unloaded, climbing underneath it and then hanging on for dear life.

The Camo Cloaks had straps that went around their feet, their thighs, waists and so on, allowing for the ability to hang from an object without a huge cloth billowing in the wind.

From there it was a simple matter of just hanging on tight, and waiting. The trucks pushing out of the facility in what looked like a constant stream. No doubt feeding the entire complex was a time and resource consuming task. What with the Princess' Guard being around and the multitude of missiles that they had with them.

Maybe if the Kriegers hadn't been so damned trigger happy, they wouldn't be in this situation. Or maybe it was the Colonel, it wasn't as if the Kriegers knew what initiative was until they lived for 6 months, which meant a damned few of them. It was rather depressing considering their role, but the Imperium always needed more cannon fodder, and it wasn't like they didn't enjoy it, the brainwashing made sure of that.

Soap was shaken out of his little mental party when Price's voice came over his vox-caster.

"Now!"

Soap dropped down and rolled over to the side of the road. It looked like this was their extraction point… or at least the part where they would walk to the damned thing.

First would be the changing of the clothes in order that they wouldn't look out of place in the area. They would look mighty suspicious walking with camo cloaks that flickered in the breeze and only covered half their bodies. That and crouch walking to the damned point was out of the question.

Better to just change into civilian-wear and pretend like they were the people that enjoyed shooting at animals in their spare time. As if it was that enjoying after shooting people, but to each, their own Soap thought.

Well then… time to walk to the treeline so he could get changed. Crouch-walking to the treeline.

He groaned.

"Well Price we've done what we need to do, how 'bout we take a break and crack open a keg huh?"

"This is just the beginning Soap. If they aren't willing to go the hard yards, then we're going to have to go for them."

"Fucking hell old man, let's not start a fucking war here."

"The Princess would kick my shit in if I tried anything. Gonna work it, check back tomorrow in my office, we've got some planning to do."

George12

Dec 3, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 28 Missy

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George12

OAMU

Dec 3, 2016

#337

Missy Biron, also known as Vista was… not having a good day. She had seen the interview, she had seen the second livestream and after that Maxine had shot those people, had seen what was the cause of her very bad day. She had seen the man that was called Sergeant Black. She had seen what was very clearly somebody that was very similar to Fred. Someone that was a Catachan, one of those that was on the side of the Princess, one that was meant to be the infiltration specialists.

In other words, he was somebody that was spying on them, someone that was the enemy. Who had wormed their way into her good graces and was someone she thought that she could be friends with. The betrayal hurt and she was going to take it out on him if it was the last thing that she did.

He probably knew that she was a Ward, set up that shitty little sign to draw… no that its a bit of a stretch. But the idea is the same. He was there to spy on them… the two of them that were actually trying to learn. Everyone else that signed up quit in a few days, or even on the first day. Ok. So he wasn't trying to spy on them specifically, it was just the others were so soft and weak.

Ok. Why was he there them?

What reason could he have for trying to spy on them? Or actually. Why was he there at all? What was going on? The only she went in the first place was that she needed a punching bag, but there were like 4 other gyms on the road, gyms that were much better in the way the way they were laid out, his one didn't even have a punching bag.

Ok. So it wasn't that he was trying to spy on them then. What was going on?

"Missy… are you ok?" Ah, it's Hannah.

Since the two of them had been going to learn together, they had become much closer than before. It was almost like she was a friend now, the two of them bonding over the pain that they felt at the hands of Fred. The amount of suffering that he dealt to them physically and mentally.

Even when the two of them were working together, they couldn't defeat him. Both of them attacking from opposite sides, giving their all to fight against him, nothing. He used on arm to beat the both of them back without even breaking a sweat. Something that was beginning to grate on them.

His lessons were working which was very true, however, the problem came from the fact that no matter how much they learnt, no matter how much they internalised, he was still able to soundly beat them down every time before giving them more lessons to learn. It was like a never ending cycle of hell where the goal posts moved just before you managed to reach them.

It was supremely irritating. It was also something that drove them. The two of them bonded in their desire to see him brought down, each of them very much willing to crush him under their feet to step on him jointly, who cared about being fair. They were going to crush him and force him to acknowledge them.

"It… it's about Fred," Missy said, sharing her worry.

"Ah yes. Fred. Are you worried that he is one of those Catachans?" Hannah asked, smiling at her.

"Yes, what is he doing there? Why is he just training us like that? What is the point?"

"I don't know exactly, but we should ask him shouldn't we?"

"Ummm. Right. We could do that." Like an adult Missy. Talking out your problems instead of trying to just fight him over it.

"You were about to go try and fight him weren't you?"

"No. No, I wasn't."

Hannah laughed at her and pulled her into a hug. Ah, that was nice. Her mother was too busy fighting with her dad to do stuff like this anymore, unless she wanted to score a point over him of course. Just hugging her in front of him to say that Missy liked her more or something. She hated it, being a piece on their games.

She thought that Fred… oh wow. That is just kind of terrible. She thought that maybe she could have replaced her parents with Hannah and Fred which was all kinds of messed up. Wow, Missy. Just… wow.

Ok, now that she knew that was what her subconscious mind was thinking, she could totally avoid it.

It would be cool, though…

No. Bad Missy.

Ok, what to do, not that she didn't have control over her thoughts now… but the idea just wouldn't leave her head. It would just be sooo… no.

Maybe she could file it away in the "unreachable dreams slot".

As the two of them walked to the Dojo/Gym/Torture chamber, the kept up the small talk. Missy even had her hand in Hannah's, something she would deny vehemently at any cost later, but it was nice to be able to hold someone's hand again. It was comforting.

So what if it wasn't like what a hard girl should be doing, but it was nice. It was comfortable and she felt better about it. So much better that she felt that she should maybe just make a token protest? Something to say that she did perhaps enjoy this feeling but she was still a hard girl that didn't need no hand holding.

But if it was offered… she might, just might take you up on it.

As she was thinking about it, they finally made their way to the Dojo and stepped inside.

"Ah, there you are. Get to the obstacle course and run me 50 laps with B grade weights. I'll be with you in a second." Fred said. As he turned around to talk to 8 other Catachans that looked… good. There were 5 males, each one had muscles of the same level as Fred did, no doubt each was as capable as he was and one of them even smiled at her, a totally normal smile, not a hahahaha is that all smile.

Dammit, why was she stuck with the evil one?

"Students Fred?" Said one of the women, they looked like fighters actually. Muscles, scars and a look about them that said they were just as good at killing as anyone that Missy wanted to name. She believed it too, if they were with Fred, they must be terrifying.

"Yup, they joined up when I opened up."

"Woah. How are they?"

"Better than average."

Missy felt a ridiculous urge to throw something at him. Better than average? Was that the best compliment he could give? Ugh. The… the… the man.

"Not bad, didn't expect to have a few of those around here."

"Of course. I trained them didn't I?"

The nerve of the man.

She walked into the room ahead of Hannah and the two of them began their routine. It had become second nature at this point, just run as hard as they could, break through whatever goal he wanted then to the sparring and then the actual training. There was an urge to do something different, however, maybe confront him as to why he was hiding that he was a Catachan from them.

After a few minutes, Fred walked into the room and… ugh. That grin. Was it really so hard to not be a complete asshole?

Missy forgot why it was that she wanted him to be a pseudo-father for a second. He was ridiculously… evil. A need to destroy him crossed their minds. Both Missy and Hannah thinking in sync as somebody like Fred demanded of them.

Missy resolved herself. As soon as they finished here, she would ask him as to why he was hiding what he was from them.

Sparring. Pain. Agony.

Missy broke through it, pushing forward on her right leg, her left already cocked for a kick, her right fist ready to follow through when he blocked it, left ready behind her to swing the counter balance.

Wait wait wait. Now.

Left leg exploded in a burst of motion, one that sent her flying forward. The target was directly before her. Fred's left leg.

Hannah was occupying his attention to the right, using all of her strength to try and force him just a little bit off balance to allow Missy a chance to sweep in at his blind spot and maybe trip him over. It was a long-shot, but it was the best one they had, both were exhausted and he was as fresh as ever.

Fucking fucky fuck. Missy groaned mentally, her body was not enjoying the punishment she was putting it through but dammit they needed to at least try. To give up now would be to invite one of those fucking grins, the one that said, "I know you have more to give, but you are just a weak little girl aren't you." Who cared if it was more eloquent than what he probably would say, he was an asshole and they were going to crush him if it was the last thing that they ever did.

Leg swinging in, Missy prepared for the block that would allow her to pivot around and maybe hit him behind the knee. It would knock him off balance and maybe Hannah would be able to capitalise on it.

Ok. Ready. Now.

BAM

Missy stared at the ceiling. She… she was not sure what had just happened. Just like every other damn time she was taken out. This… fucking. Ugh.

He had beaten her again. Not even fucking trying.

A thud to her left told her that Hannah was down for the count as well.

"Well now, anything you want to say? Something's eating at you Girlies, it's screwing with your concentration there." He said, frowning down at them.

Not the "you failed and now I am going to have to punish you" disappointed, but the "you aren't living up to your potential and I'm disappointed" frown. It was something that was distinctly painful, Missy wasn't sure why but she didn't want to disappoint him. That and he hadn't ever shown her that kind of frown before. Missy felt like tearing up, dammit. Hard girls didn't cry because someone frowned at them. Fuck that noise.

She instead frowned at him.

"When were you going to tell us that you were a Catachan?" She gasped out. Her lungs giving up the fight half-way through.

He looked down on her and shrugged. "Why?"

Uuuuuuuuugh.

She groaned loudly, Hannah echoing the same sentiment. This… this… this man.

Didn't he even consider what was going on? That there should be some kind of exposition, explain why he had betrayed them or something? What the hell was going on in his head?

"Why!? Because you're the ones with the Princess!" Missy cried out.

"And that is relevant why exactly?"

"Because you were lying to us!"

"Did I ever say I was not?"

Missy suppressed a groan of frustration. Talking to him was just pushing her too far. The urge to just… do something to him with her powers was taking its toll.

"Here." As he fed them that elixir of life, Missy contemplated forgiving him… briefly. That quickly faded away as she considered just how of an asshole he was. Destruction was of the highest priority. Yes.

"Issue with you too Big Girly?" He asked to Hannah.

"I feel that it was a betrayal of trust yes, perhaps irrationally."

"Eh, it's not so bad really. I'm just a guy that's good with his hands. No need to get so worked up. Now then, I'll see you two tomorrow."

"What? Just like that? You expect us to come back!?" Missy shouted.

"Of course, you paid for lessons didn't you?"

Ugh. UUUUUUUGH. She groaned, this… this… this man.

George12

Dec 3, 2016

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Threadmarks 036 Magnus Pt 3

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George12

OAMU

Dec 3, 2016

#338

Lisa Wilborn, Tattletale, the Right Hand as some had taken to calling her felt the… relief in Taylor's link to her. The sharing that she had felt previously could only be initiated by Taylor, but she was able to still feel their link without it, getting a general read of Taylor's emotional state as she did so. The girl was suffering, that much was certain. She was not taking the fact that she had sent so many to die well. Rather she was feeling alternatively distraught over it, angry, angsty, distraught again and the cycle began anew.

Lisa hadn't had the time to talk to her about her conversation with Malcador, or what she assumed was Malcador's ghost, but something had happened that managed to soothe her and put her right down.

Lisa was just the slightest bit worried, 2 weeks of angst and sadness then she just stops? Lisa made her way to Taylor's room, a laspistol her hand. If there was something then she wasn't going to be going down without a fight.

Making her way to the outside of the room, Lisa could only stare at what had happened. The wood that was previously locking her out had been removed, rather it was still there but it looked more like a gate than a block on the door. The way it arched over as if it were a door into another realm, a fantastical doorway that promised wonder and fantasy.

Or perhaps a twisted reality where the Taylor had turned into some kind of Elven queen and was ruling over everything with… no. Bad Lisa.

The flowers, the moss, the vines, all of them covering the entire exterior wall that was Taylor's room. Lisa considered that maybe Taylor had turned into a plant, hence the relief that she no longer had to deal with the problems of the rest of the world, but that was just crazytalk… wasn't it?

Lisa took a deep breath and pushed her way inside of the room, the door opening as soon as she came near it… okay. Her body ready to face whatever was… Oh. Is that a Red Man. Yes. It is indeed a man. That is Red. Wearing Golden Armour. Because Red Men Are An Optional Luxury In This Place.

Lisa felt her brain reboot as it tried to assimilate what it was seeing.

It was a 5 meter tall Red Man that was lying on the floor of Taylor's room.

Lisa closed her eyes briefly.

Okay.

What the fuck was that.

What the fuck is going on?

Lisa opened her eyes again.

He was still here, only now he was looking at her from his position on the floor, turning his head and smiling at her.

5 meters tall - Not from this world - Primarch - Magnus the Red - Visiting - Protecting Taylor

Lisa took the chance to breathe out a sigh of relief. It looked like he wasn't here to do anything… nefarious. Which shouldn't have happened as it was, but she was still trying to reconcile the fact that this Magnus had not betrayed his father and was not trying to use his magic and destroying the lives of billions of people. Rather this one looked…

Relaxed - Amused - Intrigued - Bored

Well… that was something. She had thought that maybe her powers wouldn't work, but ever since she had linked with Taylor, she had been able to read Taylor as if she was a normal person again. The same would apply it appeared to other Primarchs as well.

Power sharing perhaps?

Still, Lisa had a job to do and she was going to do that before she talked to the giant red man.

Ssssssh she just went to sleep

He said into her mind. Lisa started briefly, that was strange. It was like when Malcador had spoken to her inside her mind, but this one was infinitely more benign and much more light hearted than his conversation had been.

Still, Lisa hadn't quite worked out how to have conversations with people in her mind yet, a failing she owned up to, what with her not having telepathic powers before this and not even knowing she had telepathic powers until last week.

Amused - Figured out I can't communicate with him - Finds me amusing - My existence is amusing

Gee thanks, power, way to make a girl feel better about herself.

Here. A little tutorial on how to talk psykically

He said, injecting her with… knowledge? No, it was more than that. It was something that she could feel inside of her soul on the most base level of it. Something that was… just… she had no words. It was as if she had always known, yet that was clearly not true. As if the knowledge, the experience of it was a part of her on some level that was indistinguishable from her sense of self.

Lisa took a moment to get her head in order before looking at the Primarch and raising her eyebrows.

You are Magnus the Red, what are you doing here? Your father has really done a number on her

Lisa felt a sense of outrage on Taylor's behalf, how much of that was Taylor's power at work, and how much of it was her actual empathy she wasn't sure. Regardless Magnus here represented his father in some way, a father that was proving to be distinctly unfatherly to Taylor.

Granted she did need to be ready to do what was necessary, even Lisa could see that born as she was here on Earth, but Taylor's insistence on doing everything peaceful was going to cause her problems later. However, there were much better options than to just kill off her men and then make it a test or something in that smug way he had done it.

Lisa stared down at the giant on the floor, waiting for his answer. She had transmitted with her own thoughts just how… outraged she was with his father and to an extent him.

It was not my father… mostly. It was a fragment of his soul which has the trait of manipulation and sadism or something similar. The Throne Emperor has been incapacitated these last few months and has been unable to do anything without me knowing about it. There has been nothing done to her from our side

Truth

Lisa pressed a hand to her temple. There were fragments of the Emperor now? Was she going to have to watch out for these ones as well? She was already having to watch out for the numerous things that wanted to pick a fight with her Primarch and this just looked like another in a long list.

Lisa heaved out another sigh, a very large one, a sigh that told the world she was fed up and wanted a break from it all for a moment. Perhaps… perhaps she should convince Taylor to… grow some… medicinal herbs to help with her ailments.

Yes. Genius.

Trying to be the voice of reason in a council that was made up of Imperial Guardsmen, all of whom thought just killing all their enemies, or at least crushing them was the best option. Even Maxine's options came down to purging all of them at a later date.

Lisa was trying to explain why that was a bad idea, not if they wanted to do this quickly, they didn't have the massive armies of the Imperium here after all.

A big debate that once again went back and forth and again did nothing in the long run… at all. She was still left with trying to deal with a council that was bringing Imperial values into a universe that was distinctly different, trying to make sure her Primarch didn't go suicidal, trying to keep an eye on her old team who she had felt an obligation towards in a certain way, making sure the city didn't collapse in on itself as the gangs were poking and prodding each other… and so much more.

She wondered perhaps why it was that she was the only one who was actually taking these threats seriously. The other members of the council had the big picture things down, which made sense when you wage war across Star Systems, but on a single world? It was the little details that mattered and they weren't paying attention to those.

So what are you doing here?

Lisa asked of him, feeling far too tired to be "polite" like a Primarch deserved in the Imperium. She was going to be saying stuff like "My Lord Primarch", that just sounded corny. She was from the United States of America after all, they got rid of their titles a while ago… even if some of them did sound cool. Too bad Marquis had ruined that one.

I came to talk with Taylor, felt like I should be getting to know by little sister

Truth

Huh, well that was much more… simple than she had thought. Given Malcador's and the Emperor's personalities, she had thought that Magnus would take after them. Only… he appeared much more earnest than she had given him credit for. The kind of earnest that made you feel kind of bad for making fun of it… if you were evil enough to do so.

Why are you still here? She's sleeping

Lisa asked, it did look kind of weird for a random guy to be sleeping in a girl's room… when the girl was still in the room. It was slightly less weird since he was like 5 meters tall… and red… but it was still kind of weird, even if he was meant to be her brother.

I told her that I would keep the world away from her while she slept. No more intrusions in her space, in her mind, not while I'm here

Truth

Well… that was sweet. Really sweet.

Maybe the other Primarchs wouldn't be so bad? Then again he was Magnus, the only 'bookworm' Primarch so that hope was probably a stretch.

Maybe Roboute would be the same, only he was a warrior king kind of guy, wasn't he? Maybe it was good that it was Magnus that had come over, she wasn't sure what effect having the others come over might have had on Taylor.

You are linked to Taylor, but your psykic talent is merely an overspilling of her own. What are you to Taylor?

Concerned - Cautious - Ready to smite me if necessary

Lisa gave a mental sigh, what was it about Imperial men that wanted to kill her as soon as they saw her? First Bazza then Magnus, a girl was going to get a complex at this rate, it wasn't like she looked to be dangerous. Then again maybe she did, she was a strange girl that was linked to his little sister.

I am her advisor

Lisa said, as simply as possible, transferring some of the weight of her own emotions and connotations of that statement to him. So that he could understand what it meant exactly.

She has bound you. An interesting decision. She is the first to have done so since the Emperor bound Malcador to himself. She must trust you a great deal

Truth - Feels curiosity to my situation - Is interested in me as research sample - Testing me - Answer decides my fate

Wooah woah woah. Bad powers. Did not need to know that. It was half Magnus' fault, he had let his desires spill over into his conversation.

As for a reply, Lisa felt herself struggling to find one that was actually relevant and didn't expose that Taylor had been forced into it. He might decide to just kill her to free his sister from the responsibility.

Is bookish - Lacks social graces - Majority of social cues come from books

Well, that was going to be her first concern from this point going forward. If she was a burden then she would probably be killed off, he wasn't exactly the most… socially educated Primarch was he?

What was it about the Primarchs that gave them all massive flaws? Weren't they meant to be like perfect humans or something? Why were they all so… flawed in some way. Massive flaws in the way they saw the world.

Lisa sighed briefly before walking over to Taylor.

I'll do my best to keep her safe

Lisa said, going for the safe option that wouldn't see her obliterated or whatever it was that he was planning for her if she answered that wrongly.

Looking down on her Primarch, Lisa could see that she was feeling better than she had been for a while now.

What do you do for fun around here?

Lisa sighed, this was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

George12

Dec 3, 2016

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Threadmarks 037 Magnus Pt 4

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George12

OAMU

Dec 3, 2016

#340

As part of the hearts and minds campaign as promoted by the First Hand, the Astra Militarum would be taking in the homeless, the sick, the needy and treating them for their wounds, their ailments and feeding them at a new facility built at the edge of their territory on the docks themselves.

They who were still physically viable were then offered a chance to serve the Princess in her Auxillia, a throwback to the Legions of old who in turn travelled and conquered with the assistance of hundreds of thousands of Auxillia.

While their trustworthiness was not at the level where they could be issued lasguns, they would instead be issued stubbers as used by the Planetary Defence Forces of the various worlds in the Imperium who could not afford to equip their soldiers with the standard equipment of the Astra Militarum. Each of these Auxillia were not going to be of the same standard as the Imperial Guard but that mattered not. What was important was whether or not they could fill the roles that had been assigned to them. Each of the Auxillia being utilised not in the front line units of the Imperial Guards' planned advance across the world, but instead garrisoning those that had already been conquered.

For that role, they needed not be the best and the brightest but merely the willing.

For further incentive, they who were in large families could send one child per parental pair to serve, and in doing so guarantee their family a 50 year period where their every need would be catered to so long as it pertained to the necessities of life. Their quarters being next to that of the Princess Base itself until the Kasrs of Madagascar were completed.

At the same time as this was all happening, Medicae personnel in the form of the Orders Hospitaller were moving out throughout the city of Brockton to offer their assistance, something that was much appreciated given the fear of the populace and the heightened tensions that were building as a result of the brewing gang war. The Sisters were soon a welcome sight as they canvassed the city offering their assistance, their Power Armour pre-emptively protecting them from most possible attacks. The threat of retaliation should one be caught trying to attack a Sister being the other half of the equation.

While the Princess herself had not shown up in these last few days, she had already demonstrated her ability to such a degree that further demonstrations were not necessary. The idea that they would be turned into trees being just the slightest bit terrifying to the population of Brockton. The threat of the Princess was enough to subjugate the gangs… for now. They did not know that she was one who instead of craving war and conquest, wanted a peaceful resolution to most of her problems.

At least for the time being.

All of this was interesting enough to warrant their own stories, but what took the cake was the appearance of a giant 5 meter tall giant who was red. Originally thought to be a Case 53, the fact that his single eye glowed with inner power, and that he was… 5 meters tall, had many people drawing comparisons to Magnus from his first appearance.

That and the fact that the first thing he did was to enter the library and begin reading quite literally all the books using his powers. Or at least the books that weren't currently being used by other people. It looked rather creepy in fact, that everyone could see the floating eyeballs that scanned each page of each book, that he was just floating in the middle of the library where the skylights let him stand at full height, that he was humming a very creepy little song while he did it.

When considering this the population of Brockton bay considered that perhaps doing something that could possibly annoy him would be a bad idea, not that they had much information on him to begin with. The whole "not being a traitor" thing had really thrown them for a loop. But the fact that he was… quite obviously… Red? Maybe Maroon... or Crimson... The colour of the crazy berserker peoples? It gave them all a comparison to draw from. Although the Blood Angels were red… and were bloody… maybe they shouldn't judge based on skin colour. Still, it was a little worrying to have a red giant wandering around the city… halting traffic.

Which was why naturally the Protectorate had been charged with attempting to talk to him.

Something that had them naturally rather antsy… very antsy in fact. He was known as an extremely powerful psyker and extremely powerful psykers had the ability to very simply fling those they didn't like into the depths of the Warp… something none of them really wanted to test for themselves. What of the Daemons that were going to tear them apart… or diddle with them before tearing them apart? They weren't picky from what the Protectorate and PRT knew.

And so it was that Armsmaster was elected or rather he volunteered for the role.

It was only right for the leader of the Protectorate to be doing the talking… right? Just in case Miss Militia and Battery were standing by to maybe try and talk Magnus down in case something went wrong, that and the entire Protectorate of Brockton Bay, and a good portion of those from the neighbouring cities. New York's Legend had also arrived only he was trying to keep a low profile, no need to go BRIGHT THROBBING LIGHTS and scare Magnus into doing something unwise.

It would be best if they were to keep a steady presence of a single point of contact, it would improve their reliability in the eyes of the Primarch as well as to have someone to blame in case it all went wrong and they needed to quickly replace him.

Not perhaps the nicest thing they could be doing but it was infinitely better than having the entire Protectorate tarred by the same brush.

It wouldn't do to irritate somebody that could quite literally destroy a large part of the city with a click of his fingers.

And so it was that Armsmaster walked into the Last Chancers Bookstore to initiate a conversation with Magnus the Red. He was standing in there, reading all of the books. Armsmaster resolved to ask Magnus to teach him that skill, the unparalleled efficiency, he could do literally 100 things at the same time!

Striding forward Armsmaster was about to begin conversing with this paragon of efficiency.

Or at least he tried. He had been pulled back and told that most people were not like him and interrupting someone would cause them a sensation of annoyance. Best to wait for him to come out the front door when he was done.

Magnus was enjoying himself. Immensely so much so that he would need to make it a point to make the trek here on a more regular basis.

The amount of information in this world was staggering, and he was told this city was quite literally one of the smaller ones. Which naturally meant that he was going to have to find or exactly what it was that the rest of this planet offered. After all, this was a small city in a small continent of which it was just one continent in a world that was all different.

As in he had quite literally an entire world's worth of information at his disposal and that was merely the books and the available literature. As for the rest of it… well, they had their own version of the infonet that they called the internet, a very useful device but the amount of pornography on it reminded him terribly of the infonet network of Terra.

They were human after all… and that included their human proclivity to procreation. Which naturally needed some educational materials to be made available to them. Or so was the argument made by the High Lords of Terra when Roboute had originally proposed banning pornography in all of its forms at one of the first meetings.

Magnus had been there and while he hadn't said anything, the panic that radiated off them was rather amusing. It was a valid argument, it was merely the sheer amount of it that had him question what exactly they were doing with it all.

Magnus had a pretty good idea, they were after all, using it for educational purposes so applying it in real life was the logical conclusion. Just that much of it being applied was a concern.

Regardless he was not here to judge, not today, the most glorious of days. A day when he had unfettered access to a font of new knowledge, of the unknown, of what is known but now being told in a different way.

If he had to use a word for it… perhaps delicious would be that word.

Magnus was still confused about certain aspects of it all, but that was to be expected really. It was as if there was an entirely new language, that whilst bearing a brief resemblance to High Gothic, was still rather alien to him. No matter, he merely lifted the knowledge of that he needed to understand the language from they who were nearby. Something slightly more irritating to consider there were hundreds of languages on this planet, but that had not stopped him before.

There were concerns that needed to be addressed of course. This strange desire for democracy and capitalism had him scratching his head. It worked well on a local level but for the highest positions in a world's governing system? That was merely asking for trouble. Something his sister would no doubt need to deal with in her own time.

As Magnus browsed the bookstore, he considered briefly just how simultaneously advanced and primitive the people of this world were. Their ability to reason was very high on the scale, much higher than that of the regular Imperial Citizen at least, yet their technology was barely at the level where they could march into space.

The fact that they had Ork Melboyz disguised as humans was another issue regarding their backwards nature. The manner in which they could do such things as create portals into other worlds but not understand them. It was a dangerous proposition and he wished that perhaps he had Perturabo or Vulkan with him to analyse some of the data which he had recovered. It was very certainly just the slightest bit disconcerting when the natives of this world were so... technologically illiterate, on the same level as that of an Imperial Citizen... but also demonstrated a very worrying predilection for using that very same technology.

If he understood his cursory readings correctly, it was a matter of these so called Ork Melboyz styling themselves as Tinkers not understanding their own technology. It was… ridiculous and just the slightest bit worrying.

At least the Adeptus Mechanicus knew that they did not understand some of their technologies and refrained from attempting to invent new ones. It was something that had to be addressed and he wasn't sure that his little sister was the right person for that one. Given that she was… rather… nice. That and they were driven to invent if his information was correct which would be in itself a very dangerous situation to be in, not being able to control your impulses that could at any moment create a device that in turn could end all existence.

As Magnus pondered the sheer amount of… difference in this world and what a wonderful thing that was. Magnus was looking forward to this, and if the architecture was any indication Perturabo would love it as well. What with the fact that it was all… strange and twisted and frankly ugly… this… abstractism or whatever they called it. Filthy. But for Perturabo it would be as if he had stepped into heaven Magnus was quite sure, the Cloned Primarch did have some… strange tastes and when he wasn't building his business empire, he was working on designing many strange and wondrous things that would only benefit the average Imperial Citizen, before going off the deep end and designing battleships shaped like his own face.

Perhaps if he was here and he saw how ugly this architecture was in person, maybe he wouldn't be so inclined as to design in that direction.

Good Imperial Architecture was all he needed. As Magnus walked out of this store, handing the good clerk a bar of gold for her time, something that the Emperor loved so he assumed normal humans loved as well, and took in the air.

There had been a few… anomalies waiting for him outside and he might as well go say hello to them. They resembled his little sister's advisor, a small portal out of their skull that connected to the not-quite-Warp-but-still-sort-of-Warp. Ones that directly connected to her mind. Thankfully she had a limiter installed, no doubt by his sister but these were fully unlimited.

Warp Predatored Humans.

A concern then.

64"So then. We are decided then." Said the shadowy figure, his face shrouded in the deepest and darkest of darks, the blackest of blacks… the shadow… One of the secret and elusive cabals that ruled the world through power and fear, one whose face had never been seen outside of his own mirror. Even then there was a little curtain, one to keep the world away and his face safe.

He was...

"Ah fuck. Someone turn the fucking lights on. What the fuck is going on here?" Came the voice from outside, ruining the fucking moment.

Seriously did these people have no fucking appreciation for the dramatics? Fucking lunatics all of them.

"Dammit Marine, can't you keep the volume down? We're not fucking deaf you know." He called out to the man in the doorway, irritation in his voice.

"I thought you would be. You Army boys love that arty of yours. Music to rock you to sleep." Said General Marine.

"Well, you Marines need that little fucking lullaby of the waves to rock you to sleep. When's that gonna get old." He replied, Army General.

"Good to see you Army, where's the rest of the buggers?"

"Waiting for you to get out of the darned doorway Marine." Ah, that was Navy Admiral.

"Hold your pantaloons Navy. I'm making sure there's no hostiles, gotta clear the way for you soft little sailors don't I?" Marine shot off as he strode into the room. Sitting next to Army, Marine sat upright, rigid as his Corps was.

"I'm the one that sailed you here Marine, I think I would know if it was hostile." Navy retorted.

"Can you two fucking snails get fucking moving. Some of us like to think going 25 knots is slow." Said Air Force General.

"Thanks, guys, just gonna squeeze through here." Was the voice of Coast Guard Admiral.

After a little hubbub and the various leaders jockeying for position (read bumping shoulders), the men of the United States of America's leadership in terms of their military were finally seated, only for the Chief of the National Guard to arrive, heaving. He and Chief Director Costa Brown of the PRT.

There were sighs, there were mutters, a few insults and then they were finally ready to get started.

The man who entered was uniformed, he was standing at attention and he was inoffensive. They approved.

"Sirs, we will begin the briefing now." And he was prompt. Very useful indeed.

A projector turned on in the center of the table and showed what looked to be the battle of Ellisburg where the Imperial Guard as they were called had first shown up and participated in an actual battle. A very big battle at that.

"At 6 AM Central Eastern Time of Last Week's Friday, the Princess' Guard have engaged and destroyed the S-Class threat known as Ellisburg in a battle that lasted for 6 hours. We will be providing a briefing of the events but no doubt you have already received the reports from your advisors. We will be bringing everyone up to speed.

"The Princess' Guard deployed what we can consider to be a Battalion sized forced, bringing them through what we have identified as a "Warp Portal" as it is known while also deploying a significant number of air-lifter assets to bring in their armour and support vehicles." He flicked the projector at that, showing the vast portals which the soldiers were disembarking from, the dropships as they were moving in from the sky, the tanks being carried underneath them.

"The armoured forces encountered were roughly that of 8 Squadrons of Main Battle Tanks, twenty pieces of Self Propelled Artillery, 4 missile batteries, roughly 30 mounted mortars of an unknown gauge, approximately 25 APCs, 14 Flame-Tank modified APCs, and 4 Mobile Suits" The slides flickered again over what they identified from their briefings as the Leman Russ, the Basilisks, the Manticores, the Griffons, the Chimeras, the Hellhounds and the Leos. An impressive collection given how specialized each of them was. To be able to send them all onto the field was an impressive little feat, something that most militaries outside of those of the US and some of its allies would not be able to accomplish.

"The Imperial Guard began shelling the town of Ellisburg for half an hour before they moved in to engage and destroy the forces of Nilbog. Combat took approximately 6 hours in which they initiated a policy of Scorched Earth and burn everything as they advanced. They took no prisoners. After the 6 hours, the one known as Nilbog appeared in a form that indicates that he was accumulating biomass in some manner that broke past the PRT and National Guard blockade. He was stopped by the appearance of the parahuman known as Princess before she left. The PRT troopers accompanying the attack were transported to New York, her own were transported to an unknown location at the commencement of hostilities. The hostilities ended when the Princess created a yet unnamed forest where the town of Ellisburg once stood." The slides again were showing the relevant little pieces of information. The artillery bombardment, the attacks, the final form of Nilbog and the eventual forest which housed trees that were the size of redwoods but all coloured a dull grey.

"Any comments gentlemen. Lady?"

"I got one. Those little cannons of theirs? Watch the fuck out. Word from the boys in EOD is that each of these shells they're firing carries the equivalent of 25 kilograms of C-4." Said Army, sounding a little annoyed at that. Cross referencing the explosions, the size of the shells, and the amount of stuff that was hurled out of the ground when one went off… it wasn't hard to get a rough estimate.

"Those guns belong on top of a ship, just what are they fighting that they need something of that caliber?" Asked Navy, sounding a little miffed. Granted he was old and he wanted a return to the glorious days when the gun dominated ship to ship combat and not the aircraft.

"Themselves, and the variety of aliens that want to eat them." Said National Guard, he had been briefed in-depth on it. Something that was rather required given that his men were going to be sent in first to deal with the situation if they became hostile.

"Well that certainly makes things more fucking pleasant, doesn't it. If that is their standard loadout, I don't want to see what their crazier shit includes." Said Marine, grunting around his unlit cigar. A travesty really.

"Well, good thing we aren't here to talk about what shit they have. We're here to talk about what we're going to do about the shit they do have. Let's not beat around the bush here gents, if they bring through enough for a Regiment or whatever they call it, that's a quarter of a million men under arms. On American soil no less. We need to strike now to dig them out and destroy them before they destroy us." Said Army. The armoured corps and the infantry were already ready, the slightest word and they would be rolling into the city. Finally give them something to do against all these bloody capes.

"We hit them now and they are going to be getting revenge, they have ICBMs Army, ICBMs that make our nukes look like piddly little toys. We know Scion is going to be stopping us from doing shit like using nukes, but what about their weapons? Does he even know what they are? If one hits, we lose anything and everything in a few thousand kilometers." Said Air Force, his aircraft had been on standby in case a launch was detected. If they were lucky they could shoot it down, if they weren't then they would bomb the Guard back to the stone age.

"Don't forget this leader of them is planning to do this all peacefully. Best case scenario she merges into us, worst case scenario the fucking politicians call a referendum to get us in." Said National Guard, sitting back and trying to think of how it was he was going to keep his position if they were indeed merged into the Princess' Guard.

"Well clearly something needs to be done and I want some answers here."

Director Costa Brown walked out of the meeting feeling a little frustrated, a little amused. Nothing had been decided… as usual, the men had bickered amongst themselves until it was too late and another meeting had to be scheduled. The lack of any overt movements by the Princess' Guard had done much to drive this atmosphere of uncertainty. They weren't sure as to what should happen, or even what could happen. Attack them and risk losing entire cities in a retaliatory strike, leave them and watch as they became more powerful?

She had a mandate to take over the world, she was clearly an enemy, yet she was their only tangible hope against the Endbringers.

It was rather funny watching them scramble to find answers, not that she was any better.

Contessa had told them all that she needed to do for now was to keep going about her work. Contessa's powers didn't work on the Princess, but they did work on those under her. By mapping them out and then creating a hypothetical situation, Contessa was able to map out a rough course of events, one that told her by doing absolutely nothing, for the time being, their goals would be achieved.

Or rather that doing nothing was the only real option that they had, to try and do something in this situation would only cause for things to go horribly wrong and possibly mark them as enemies of the Princess. She would not stop until she had destroyed Cauldron, which naturally had to be dealt with. However given the simulations done by Contessa, there was little they could do to her at this point, she had been given too much time and was now strong enough that they couldn't do anything without revealing themselves to the outside world.

It was a danger and a very large concern for them.

So doing nothing it was.

As for Costa Brown, her regular job required for her to be focusing on the problems of the Protectorate, in particular, the fact that Piggot needed to be rewarded or appeased somehow. She and Tagg had been calling for the destruction of Ellisburg and the execution of Nilbog for a matter of years now, yet it hadn't happened since the possible dangers of not doing so were too great.

Yet the fact that Nilbog was using his powers to create for himself a massive form that was at least the size of Behemoth while also pumping it full of diseases and other airborne viral attacks, well it was a good thing that the Princess had arrived when she had or it was likely that New York would have been destroyed again. Only this time there wouldn't be any people left, they would have been all wiped out by the actions of Nilbog.

A simple "you told us so" wouldn't cut it, not when the effects of not listening to them could have been so catastrophic in the first place.

Costa Brown shook her head as she made her way to her office, or rather she made her way to the plane that was going to take her to her office. The meeting had included her in the first place since if there was an attack of some kind, then it was going to be her that was going to be sending her forces as well, the Princess did count as a parahuman after all, even if she wasn't a trigger.

She was going to need to talk to Legend, he was the closest to Brockton of those she could trust, not with everything, but almost everything. He was their best shot at taking out the Princess before she realized what was happening and retaliating.

An assassination was not clean, but Costa Brown, or rather Alexandria no longer had any real compunctions with regards to things like this. If one had to die to save the world then so be it, if she had to pull the trigger then so be it.

But not, for now, she had far too much potential and more importantly… the world needed hope. She was giving so much of it that she was being called the hopebringer by some and somewhere deep down inside, Costa Brown admitted that she wanted to feel it too.

George12

Dec 4, 2016

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Threadmarks 038 Magnus Pt 5

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George12

OAMU

Dec 4, 2016

#353

Magnus looked down at the man in front of him. He was wearing what looked to be an Arbitrator uniform, only instead of a shock baton, he was holding a… halberd? A strange choice of weapons for a law enforcement officer but the man was free to choose what was best for him at his own discretion.

Given his age, if the facial markings under his beard were any indication, he was certainly old enough to decide for himself whether or not he wanted to use a Halberd as a main weapon, no matter how inefficient it may be for house to house combat. If the people of this city ever rose up, it would be difficult purging the houses, a concern he would have to raise with the local Arbite head officer.

"Good morning Arbitrator, how may I assist you," Magnus said, it never hurt to be polite to the local law enforcement. Even if he was a Primarch, he was a law abiding Primarch. Never let it be said that Magnus the Red abused his powers and his station to take advantage of those that were weaker than he was and inferior to him.

Not that it was... really an objective inferiority now that he thought about it. He was big, and he was red, not exactly the best thing when one was trying to quantify differences in people and attempt to find a common ground from which he could quantify just how superior he was. A matter for concern at a later time he was sure.

"I am Armsmaster, I am representing the local Protectorate of Brockton Bay. Who are you?" Said the man. Ah yes, the famed and almost expected rigidity of the Arbitrators. It had something to do with the fact that their souls would be shredded to never make the pilgrimage to the Emperor's side if they ever broke a law, or enforced a law unlawfully. A very nice little addition to the Justice system that those Caretakers had inspired in the Grand Provost Marshal. Binding each and every Arbitrator to the Emperor as part of their graduation from the Scholas.

While they were a dull peoples, they were still the Emperor's representatives and each of their judgements in the name of the Emperor was like a prayer that increased the Emperor's power. Justice and bureaucracy ran the Imperium, something that he was constantly amused over he had to admit. The idea that the bureaucracy that his father hated so much was sustaining him on the Golden Throne.

"I am Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Thousand Suns Legion. I hope I have not made an error in not checking in with the Planetary Governor?" Magnus asked. Before the absurdity of the situation hit him in the face. He wasn't on an Imperial World which explained why this man who looked and talked like an Arbitrator was asking him who he was. There wasn't even a Planetary Governor was there? Magnus felt like slapping himself on the forehead, this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Uuuuuugh.

He hadn't been this embarrassed since he had accidently propositioned a Sister of Silence.

Uuuuuugh.

"I apologise Armsmaster, I have forgotten that this is not an Imperial World. Finding a world that is filled with civilized humans that is not under the Emperor's grace is a situation that I have not found myself in very often I am afraid. No doubt much of that made no sense to you, is there anywhere that we can talk peacefully? I am not here to cause you any trouble." Magnus said, lifting his hands in the universal gesture for helplessness.

Given his size however, it was still something that made people feel rather insecure about themselves but that wasn't his fault, it wasn't like he had chosen to be this tall. It just sort of… happened. Like he had been normal, then suddenly he was tall… sort of. Maybe. Yes, that was totally how it had happened.

"I… Yes. Please follow me, we will go to the Protectorate Headquarters where we will interview you." Said the Arbitrator-like Armsmaster.

Magnus nodded and proceeded to meander along after the man. Or rather he was taking one step for every 3 or 4 that the man was taking, so it was more of a stop and start motion, but it was still… something. At least.

Taking in the sights, breathing in the air that was not putrid with the smell of a billion humans and recycled farts, while also then making sure that he was keeping track of all the possible enemies in the area. The fact that they had a link to their very minds was a sign that they might be under the predations of a Warp predator of some kind.

It had not been the first time that he had been called to a meeting with leaders and representatives of a faction only to be betrayed and fight his way out of it. He had gotten very good at it personally, the fact that they had seen the fact that he was large, and red, and mistakenly assumed that he was a brawler instead of an intellectual.

Magnus smiled and whistled as he walked along, sounding more like a full ensemble at the orchestra than an actual human whistle, but it was the thought that counted. As he walked down the road he made sure to check all the humans for possible signs of warp infection, it would not do for his sister to inherit a world that was corrupted.

That wouldn't do at all, from what he had seen she was far too soft to initiate any kind of purging of this world. Meaning that he would need to do it personally, cracking the planet's crust would be enough until he managed to call through an Exterminatus fleet.

A thought to be considered.

As he strode forward he stopped and considered the situation. Should he shrink himself down to make himself appear more… normal. Or should he maintain his current height for the increased intimidation? Both had their benefits but he had to consider the situation of his little sister here. She was trying to conquer the world, how? Magnus did not know, no doubt she wished to do this peacefully.

She could possibly do it, but the people were far too advanced to acquiesce to the usual methods that the Imperium applied to worlds they would rather not wage war upon. They were far too advanced in terms of their living standards to give the Imperium the time of day, something that his little sister would need to think about when she enacted her plans… assuming she had plans.

She was still an infant, he remembered when he was only a few months old. Taking in knowledge, all of it greedily transforming his mind into what he was today. A paragon of intellect and reason.

Yes. That was what he was.

Still, he would stay in his usual form, for now, all the more to intimidate the peoples of this world and to ease the transition of his sister in. It wouldn't do if the people were not prepared to accept her presence after all if they thought she was weak by proxy of himself. The Work of Lunciate Hoovet in Analysing the minds of Weak, a great study that looked at how to maintain power in front of subject races.

"We have a slight problem Armsmaster, I am afraid that I cannot fit through your front doors," Magnus said, smiling apologetically at the large (for Armsmaster but certainly not Magnus) doors that stood before them.

"That will be a problem. We will have to conduct this meeting elsewhere. Perhaps the roof?" Armsmaster suggested and Magnus nodded.

Just because the Arbites were dour and lacked the most basic form of humour, did not mean that they didn't have common sense or a working brain. Magnus mentally applauded the man, he certainly knew what he was doing. Perhaps he would drop off a good word for him to his little sister, this 'Armsmaster' as he called himself would no doubt prove useful in the long term. One who was as efficient as this was no doubt worthy of the title of quartermaster, master of the storage. No doubt his name reflected that, the Armsmaster, the master of the armoury.

How fitting.

"Yes, I will meet you up there Armsmaster. No doubt your superiors are very eager to take apart my mind for information." Magnus said before using his powers to open a portal from where he stood to the roof.

Once there he stood tall and gazed up at the sky.

It was a nice sky.

A beautiful sky.

Now that he thought about it, it was very often that he never really had a chance to appreciate the beauty of nature. What with him being on Terra for the majority of his time and that… that was not the nicest of skylines. Tinged pink due to the pollution in the air, the non-stop stream of ships and shuttles coming in and out of Terra to deliver the cargo that ensured Terra would not starve or its foundries run silent, the smog that obscured the skies in a permanent pall, the acid rain. All of it coming in from the skies ruining them, all the time, constantly, a never ending stream, more adjectives he could put on the end of a sentence.

This… this was different. He could see out into the ocean from here and how novel it was to have an ocean that he could look out of in the first place. Terra certainly had none, all of them long boiled away or whatever had happened in the millennia from where it had oceans until now. That and the worlds that he had visited that did have oceans, invariably had them boiled away from the intensity of the fighting that had occurred during that time that was the Great Crusade. He had led his Legion and he had led it well, he was just the slightest bit regretful of what he needed to do to bring those worlds under Imperial Compliance during that time period.

The Adeptus Mechanicus had always come later, healing the worlds left in his wake. He never saw them.

A pity.

So many worlds reduced to slag, so many billions killed, so much death, so much destruction. He personally had played a role in some of them, boiling away seas with his power, cracking continents, shattering souls, all of it he had done and more.

And he had never paid attention to the sky until it was too late and he was bound to Terra. Perhaps one should appreciate the smaller things in life… it certainly made life… more pleasant.

That was a good line, he should put that in his book.

Thankfully the Imperium had not spurned the sacrifice of a billion souls and had built itself from the ashes. There was still the occasional heretic but they tended to… not survive very long after the general population recognized the signs and called in the Arbitrators. Or so he was told.

As for what he was going to be saying and doing, well it would be a good idea perhaps if he kept the lies to the minimum. They were after all linked to potential Warp Predators which very naturally meant they could very well find out if he was lying that was not something he wanted to worry about. The potential of being attacked by one himself was causing Magnus to be just the slightest bit more careful about this entire affair than what he would otherwise be doing.

Magnus hummed to himself as he waited for the representatives of whatever this local law enforcement agency decided to send to show themselves. He was tracking what looked like a delegation that was heading his way using what looked like a few lifts. It was a rather efficient design if his sight was correct, a single elevator that connected from the mid-section of the structure all the way to the top. A very vulnerable design, but an efficient one. No doubt Perturabo or Rogal would be pleased about it.

As for Magnus, he was ambivalent and as he gazed at the doorway to his right, waiting for the representatives to present themselves, the majority of which were in fact… not warp-predator bound. That was something that was very interesting now that he thought about it, very interesting indeed. Those that were not bound were superiors to those that were if this little delegation was any indication.

There was the idea of Triggers that he had read of, but this certainly seemed as if it were very similar to the systems that he had found on a few of the worlds that he had liberated during the Great Crusade. Worlds that were deliberately opening their own peoples to Warp Predators and using them as weapons in their wars. Something that he very definitely did not approve of.

Hopefully, these peoples were not the same as that, their official sources would not be broadcasting to the world if they were, which made it harder to ascertain the truth… but it was a concern.

He would have to purge this world if it was the case.

George12

Dec 4, 2016

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Threadmarks 039 Magnus Pt 6

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George12

OAMU

Dec 4, 2016

#354

Magnus turned to regard the delegation that had been dispatched to meet him. Interesting.

An infirm woman who was leading the group, an older man, several guards that he could see as well as what looked to be another woman at the rear, one who had… latent psykic powers if he was not wrong. The aura that surrounded her was far too much to be anything else.

Interesting. Even without the Warp being agitated there were humans who were developing like they of the home universe. It looked like he would need to pay more attention to this world than he had thought before.

Very interesting indeed.

Strong faced woman, tall, looked rather old… also Warp Predatored… a concern. If they were not picky about what they bound themselves to… Magnus would need to take a closer look into this.

Something to keep him interested for later. It had been a while since he had gotten his experiment gloves on.

Magnus smiled at them, making sure to keep his teeth hidden, something he had learnt from Russ… the wolf-buggering bastard. He was an asshole, but he knew how to deal with wild beasts. Make sure to keep your teeth hidden to demonstrate the fact that you weren't going to eat them, make sure that your hands were open in front of them to show you weren't hiding anything, make sure your body was open and relaxed as possible to keep them at ease, make sure you were at their level… well, maybe not that one. But the others certainly applied.

Oh and blink slowly, keep your eyes centered, no sudden movements. Eyes are the doorways into your armouries, keep them calm and there will be no trouble.

For Magnus, he was making sure that he didn't do anything stupid like possibly killing all of them. A worry especially when it came to bureaucrats. It was best if he kept himself aloof from these affairs as possible not… try to fix things. That was his sister's job, even if he saw so many little things that could be fixed.

It was as if they weren't sure what the whole point of having a government was in the first place.

Oh well, it was not as if his own homeworld was any better when he was upon it. Everything barely worked, everything was falling apart, everything was under siege. It wasn't until the end that he managed to enact the changes he wanted and then it was straight into the Emperor's Legions, not particularly the most enjoyable transition that he had ever had but it beat… whatever the other possibilities had been. His brothers were not exactly the… brightest when it came to matters like not creating enemies wherever they went.

Not that he was better mind you, he was still a Primarch and he was just inherently better than everyone else, something that rubbed some the wrong way, unfortunately.

The delegation smiled back at him… or at least the man to the side of the woman in the center. She looked hard, the same kind of look that he had seen in the battle hardened Auxillia of his own Legion. She was a hard one, one that he was going to need to keep an eye on, having a leader that knew what battle was certainly helped when it came to matters of leadership, but it also meant that she was likely not a proper bureaucrat and could be… missing things under her nose.

Where one was blessed in one area, they were often deficient in another. Like that wolf-begotten bastard Russ. Had the instincts of a wolf, the brain of one too.

Something to be concerned with certainly, he didn't want the woman to think he was singling her out for attention so Magnus made sure to smile and nod at the other members of the delegation. He didn't need to, but it certainly made things easier when it came to interacting with them, not and later.

"You are Magnus the Red?" Asked the first one, the woman, the one it looked had some very serious health issues if her aura was any indication. That and the constant edge of pain that ate away at her.

"Yes, I am. And you?" He replied, keeping the smile on his face. A conundrum… until he remembered he could use his powers to vibrate the air to sound like his voice. Genius.

Or not.

The looks of fear on their faces told him that perhaps he had overdone it. He had forgotten that they weren't his usual audience, their ears weren't as ready to adapt to loud noises as his own were, or that of his Legionnaires, or that of the Custodes, or that of the Caretakers, or that of the Imperial Fists… or that of Space Marines in general now that he thought about it. Something to file away for later reference.

"Apologies. I am not used to dealing with regular humans." He said again, hands outstretched to indicate his own helplessness. Making small mistakes could be a good thing. It was said to be cute in men to make mistakes and to act helpless, maybe he could use this to his advantage…

"That is quite alright. I am Emily Piggot of the Brockton Bay Parahuman Response Team." She said, nodding as she walked closer. She was apprehensive about it, he could see but she kept going regardless. He mentally nodded with approval, she was a good one. It would do to pay attention to her in the future. She had high hopes in the future if she continued to be as dogged as she was now.

It was a rare human that kept a straight back in the presence of a Primarch.

"You are no doubt curious as to why I am here. You may rest assured that I am not attempting to do anything but visit my little sister and learn from your world . It is one of interest to me. It is very interesting indeed." He said, shrugging one of his massive shoulders as he spoke. What better way for him to integrate into the population than pretending he was a nice person? It was better than simply killing them and then saying that he was superior. Therein lay the path of Russ and he didn't want to end up like that idiot, charging into the Eye of Terror because he thought he knew better than anyone else.

"Your sister?" Asked the Piggot woman.

"Yes, she is around this height [motioning his arms to somewhere around the midpoint of his thigh to give a rough indication of her height], has brown hair, makes plants and the like grow around her, female?" He asked, the last one as a last resort. He should have paid more attention to her physical attributes, it might have been slightly easier if he had. Maybe he should give them her name? But that was her prerogative, he didn't want to get her titles wrong after all.

"Yes, we know of your sister. May I ask what you are visiting her for?" Asked the Piggot woman again, looking rather… irritated. And sick. Definitely sick. That wasn't very good, he needed her alive if she was going to useful to his little sister. Using his powers, Magnus hefted her up and planted her down on a chair that he had conjured, a copy of the one that his father used to like to sit in when he wanted to look regal… and relax, mostly to look regal however.

Also smaller, she was not the kind of woman that was the size of his father… nor were any women actually.

"My duties are completed as of the moment and I had myself a spot of free time." He said, sounding just a little confused. They were focusing quite heavily upon his little sister, did she do something?

"What could the Gods of Chaos want with this world?" She asked, that was certainly out of left field. But Magnus decided to humour her, it was not every day that he got to have such a refreshing conversation as this one. It was actually rather interesting being on the receiving end of an interrogation. It might have been the fact that he knew he was capable of snapping all of them in half with his mind, but it certainly was not as onerous as some had claimed.

"You would have to ask them yourself, they are capricious at the best of times," Magnus said, deciding to summon his own chair and more for the delegation. It would be rather unfair if he was able to sit but the rest of them were not

Plopping down in his favourite armchair, or at the very least a copy of his favourite armchair, the one that he used when he was reading a particularly engrossing book that he wanted to make sure he absorbed every word of. Sitting down and allowing himself to relax, slightly difficult considering that he was wearing his armour for this outing, but at least he could sit down.

"Rest assured Magnus, should you attempt to bring more of your ilk across, we will resist with everything we have, even if we cannot defeat you, we will die trying." She said, sounding rather defiant.

Magnus was rather taken aback at that, what exactly had he done to deserve this sudden declaration of hostilities? Magnus looked at her with his eyebrow raised.

"I am afraid that I am not understanding your point. More of my ilk? Do you mean the other Primarchs? I am certain that they would like to visit but they will not until given permission by my sister." He said, cocking his head to the side. The sign that he was intrigued and confused at the same time. Or so he had read in one of his books, it had the most referrals so he assumed that it was the most correct of the ones available.

"We know that you are a Traitor Primarch! You serve Tzeentch!" Called out one of the guards behind the woman.

Well… that was... Something.

"You have me at a loss. Serving Tzeentch? A Traitor Primarch? I have done none of those things." Magnus rebutted, seriously considering that perhaps something was very different about this world. Were they all… rather insane? That would be worrying, he would need to do something about that, it would be unfair on his little sister if her world was full of insane people.

But they knew about the Chaos Gods… and Tzeentch? This was very worrying indeed.

"We have the collected information of your universe and you are listed as a Traitor Primarch. The Princess' Guard have said that you are loyalist, but we cannot trust their information. They want to conquer the world, it is in their best interests to whitewash it all. You are a Daemon Primarch and we will do whatever we can to resist you." She said, sounding absolutely unsure of herself.

Ah. A ploy, a blatantly obvious one at that. They wanted answers... interesting.

Or so he hoped, he was never really good with faces... or people.

Well, this was something that was concerning. They had information of his home universe? A universe where he turned traitor and what was worse, became a Daemon Primarch? He was trying to imagine what it would be like serving under the capricious Tzeentch and shuddered. He had certainly read of Tzeentch's exploits in the archives of the Inquisition, that was not something he wanted to be in contact with if at all possible.

They had knowledge of the Chaos Gods and their world had not yet been devoured? This was interesting indeed.

Further investigations would be required.

A very interesting universe indeed, it was going to be keeping him occupied, he could see that now.

"You have me at a loss. Information of my universe? Have you a psyker that is able to break the universal boundary as well?" He asked, casting his sight over the world to make sure that there were not powerful psykers that were hiding themselves. It would be singularly foolish to allow one to exist on the same planet as his fledgling sister.

"No. We have the collated works of your universe. Here, have a read if you do not believe me." She said, throwing a rectangular block at the ground in front of him.

Magnus stared at it. Was it meant to do something? He poked at it with his powers aaaaand… nothing. This… this was disconcerting. Was he missing something here? There was no obvious interface panel with runes for him to interact with it. Perhaps this was a test?

"What am I supposed to do with this item?" He asked, looking rather confused.

"It… it… I. Frank!" She shouted out, one of the guards standing to attention and running forward, no doubt to assist with the mysterious little device in front of him. The same one that had shouted out earlier, interesting man this Frank.

Reaching the box, he opened what looked like 2 latches on the front of it, and opened it up to reveal… books. Lots of them. Magnus took a moment to scoff at such an insecure manner of securing information before diverting his attention to the books themselves.

Astra Militarum 7th edition? Horus Heresy Collection? Ciaphus Cain? Space Wolf? Fire Warrior?

What was all this?

Spoiler: AN

George12

Dec 4, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 29 Fifine

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George12

OAMU

Dec 4, 2016

#368

Sooo... this is like those RPGs where the screen goes "if you go to the next area, you cannot access the side content anymore." So offloading these chaps, and then we're in the clear for the next big thing that comes tomorrow.

Fifine Chabot was a woman who… had very little hope in her life.

She had been born the daughter of French immigrants in the United States, only the Endbringers had destroyed everything she had owned three years ago, her parents long dead… thankfully. They would not need to see their daughter in this state. She had then spent her years in constant work trying to pay for the medical bills that came from the damage caused to her by falling rubble, herself unable to pay for the medical bills.

A week drinking the rainwater had done nothing to help, the rescue services too underfunded to help her, to find her. She had fallen unconscious at one point and woke up in a hospital gurney. Operations they said. Only it was too late, and she didn't have enough to pay for the full surgery, the debt would destroy her, she had refused and they let her go. She was onto the street after that a life of subsistence, finding what work she could, just enough to pay for her pain medications.

Living each day in a state of constant pain, of constant agony, she had given up hope, merely living from one day to the next, unable to imagine a future where she might be worth something, the daily drudgery occupying her mind to overflowing.

Working to pay the bills, yet having so many that she needed to work to pay them, yet working caused bills as she needed medicine for her pain, for her body simply failing to work as it should, a never ending cycle of pain and suffering.

She had not been sure as to what was the purpose of this wall, why was she suffering at all? Why was this happening to her?

It was then that a rumour had come buzzing through the homeless population in the city, in those of similar positions to herself, while they might not have wounds, they were being beaten down in the day to day drudgery of their everyday life.

It was then therefore that something changed. She had felt hope for the first time since she could remember and Fifine had opened her ears, anything to hear more of these rumours, to know if they were true or if they were fabrications of a mind seeking any kind of justification to prevent her from killing herself.

The words 'Brockton Bay' appeared over and over. Every single time linked to the name 'The Princess' Guard'. They were taking the sick, the weak, the poor, the hopeless and they were offering a new life. Aid for their ailments, all that was required of them that they do nothing, it was all free.

Aid, for free. Aid at all.

Fifine had quit her job and hitchhiked her way to Brockton Bay, walking and stumbling in agony when there was no-one to pick her up, her meager savings not extending to a bus fare across the country. It had been an agonizing time but she had done it. She had made it to Brockton Bay, she had sought out the Princess' Guard and she had thrown herself at their feet asking for aid.

What happened next was the most intensive and intrusive medical examination that she had ever had in her entire life. The woman who introduced herself as a Sister of the Orders Hospitaller, like a nun from the homeland, and had directed it all, leaving no modesty left for Fifine but she did not care.

It was not as if modesty could keep her clothed and fed. It was not as if modesty had helped her when she was broken.

In the end, she had been given medication for her ailments, food, shelter, a respite from the outside world. All they asked of her was that she keep herself clean, herself tidy and not to worship the Dark Gods. She had done them all, even the last part, even if she didn't understand what they were talking about.

Her days spent painless, able to smile for the first time it had felt in years. Her face had ached after that first time.

She had not smiled in so long that it seemed that she had forgotten how, her facial muscles feeling sore from being forced into an unfamiliar position.

Yet… yet she planned on smiling more, every day from now on. She had enough to survive, she was being given enough that she needed not to worry about where her next meal was coming from. Given enough that she was able to live without being in chronic fear that it would all be taken away from her by another accident, a theft, an unpaid shift by her manager.

More change was headed her way however, Fifine was told of the fact that they could cure her ailments, to return her to her body once more, to make her whole again.

All she would need to do was to consign herself into the service of the Princess for a period of 50 years. It seemed like a long period of time, but if she was in combat for 10 years then she would be pardoned, and at the end of it, she would be returned to youth by a process that would make her whole again should she choose to accept.

Fifine had nothing, Fifine had nobody.

Nothing to hold her down, nobody to hold her back.

She had offered herself the next day and then came a week of unimaginable pain as every single cell of her body was repaired, her entire existence the operative table. The tubes that had gone into her, the needles, the jars of liquid being pumped into her veins, the new organs, all of it felt in vivid detail. She needed to be awake or else her body would reject the implants she was told. This was temporary, a means to giving her mobility now, time for a whole one later should she so choose.

Her left arm, her legs, half the organs in her abdomen were long gone, shrivelled and dead. She would need new ones, the ones they gave her instead were called bionics, they would replace her limbs so that she might serve with the Guard that much quicker.

It had been difficult to get used to them, but now that she had, she couldn't imagine herself without them, each one stronger than a regular limb, each one able to feel just as well as her own had been, better even considering they were not mangled and damaged.

Her face had been restored to her, the misshapen mess that was her originally replaced by an actual human being again, or so it felt. Sometimes she stood in front of the mirror, hands roaming over it to make sure she never forgot what she looked like ever again.

In return for this, she served in the Princess' Auxillia.

She would serve the Princess, she would lend her body, her arms, her soul to the Princess. She had been given back her life and she would serve in order to prove that the gift that had been given to her was worth it.

This was the first day and Fifine was prepared. She would do whatever was necessary and she would serve.

It was the least she could do for what had been given to her, for what had been returned to her.

In doing so she found something that she had thought long lost to her. A community. Others like her, others that wanted to return the favour of having their bodies healed, the minds wrought whole. Thousands of them, all ready to serve, to offer their all to the Princess.

Fifine was reconsidering her decision. It was not that she was really thinking that serving the Princess was a bad idea per-se… it was just that serving the Princess was much more… painful than she had thought it would be initially.

Not torture pain, pain from the training, pain from the drills, pain from the physical conditioning, pain from the weapons training. Pain pain pain.

Fifine was running. Running through the jungle that they had somehow grown underneath the ground of Brockton Bay, a jungle that was so thick that she couldn't see the ceiling, that was so dense that she couldn't see more than 5 meters to either side of herself.

She was running with a full battle kit, meaning she had ammunition, she had her weapon, she had her armour, she had her camp equipment, her water bottles, and everything else that she might need on a run through the jungle, and everything she didn't.

She was sweating, every step felt like it would be her last, she was having to put conscious effort into moving each foot forward.

She was slowing down.

Dammit.

Fifine gritted her teeth and focused on moving her legs faster, the minute that she took her mind off them, she would instantly begin to slow down, her body simply not wanting to do this, not wanting to be anywhere near this much pain, this much effort.

Even though her legs were bionic, her back was not, her stomach muscles were not, her shoulders (or at least one of them) was not. Every single piece of meat that was still on her was in agony, the pack digging into her shoulder blades, weighing her down.

But she had to. If she wanted to give back what had been given to her, she had to. If she wanted to pay back her debt, she must make it back before the time limit ran out.

As much as her face was pointing forward, her sweat slicked hand gripped the rifle, her clothes hung from her, each dripping with accumulated moisture, she was determined to make it through this. She would not be giving up.

Each step, one foot in front of the other. She had 10 kilometers left. She would do this.

Weapons training.

Not her favourite session but it was better than physical training at least. The target was in front of her, a cutout of a shape that looked like… a very big and hunched over beast. An Ork the briefings had called it.

She was to aim for the chest and up, center mass did nothing on these targets. The head and destroying the brain was her best chance to defeat an Ork with her rifle, or stubber as they called it.

Her instructors were harsh, but they were fair. They told her what needed to be done and expected her to do it. If she failed then she would do it again and again until she succeeded.

There was no quitting in the Princess' Guard, they made sure of that.

Breathing in Fifine waited.

Beep

The sound echoed through the chamber, her provisional squad ready.

Each of them fired their rifles. At the first target, the second it dropped then another would pop up. 10 targets, 30 bullets. She had 10 seconds.

Crack-Crack-Crack

All of them were down.

Beep

Now for the time trial.

Fifine breathed in deep.

These were harder. The targets were called Grots, tiny, around the height of her waist. They would pop out of the ground in quick succession and she needed to make sure that the number left at the end would be less than 15 of them. More and she would fail.

Magazines on the counter, fire select on semi-automatic.

Ready.

Beep

One popped up, a bullet immediately.

Crack

Two.

Crack

Three.

Crack

Thirty.

CrackCrackCrackCrack

Fifine quickly pulled out the magazine, jamming in another, eyes back on the sight and firing down the range.

Every shot sent one down, two more taking its place.

Firing. Firing. Firing.

Crack-Crack-Crack

The sounds of gunfire echoed in the cavern, the squad firing constantly, the pinging of casings as they fell to the floor reverberating in their ears.

More and more, bullet after bullet, the outline of the Grots fell down.

Beep

Finish.

Fifine looked down the range and she had 37 left. She groaned.

Punishment time.

Fifine ducked behind the low wall that was between her and the Servitor, something that looked like a machine crossed with a human. An ugly thing, something that reminded her of what she had looked like in the past… just not that bad.

It was firing rubber pellets at her, something about it being non-lethal. She wouldn't know, it hurt as if it were lethal when it hit.

She and the others who had failed were here and they had to run the kill-zone, defeat all the Gun-Servitors and make it to the exit.

The entire squad had failed… naturally.

She had figured out by now that the instructors wanted them to fail so they could be put in the kill-zones. How else were they going to get combat practice in and also punish them?

Fifine motioned to the trainee to her right, he would run and draw fire, she would put down the fire.

Breathing in she waited until the attention of the thing was diverted. Head back up, body ready, rifle shouldered.

Crack-Crack-Crack

The impacts of the bullets, the spray of blood, the deactivation of the Servitor. Ok. One down, 26 more to go.

Fifine sighed and motioned for the rest of the squad to join her. It was going to be a long day before they could get home and to dinner.

George12

Dec 4, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 30 Missy

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George12

OAMU

Dec 4, 2016

#369

Missy Biron was annoyed. She had learnt to fight she had learnt how to crush the enemy… who were probably going to die if she did that so she was going to do this peacefully and not kill them, but the end result was the same. She was going to absolutely destroy anyone that she came up against.

Only… it had not quite turned out the way she had expected. As in because the Princess' Guard were in Brockton and because they had completely obliterate the Merchants in their first outing (that wasn't covered at all by the cameras), everyone was afraid to go outside. Which meant for Missy she was facing the problem of not having anything she could punch in the face really hard.

And she could punch face really hard. A little trick that Fred had taught her. Things in general, weren't working out so well, what with the fucking giant robots they had being made of metal which meant she couldn't punch them, which was ridiculously unfair. Who did that? Seriously, took the fair out of fair-fighting.

As for the rest of it, she was just enjoying life… not really.

The tension of the city had gotten to her parents and they were even worse than ever. The fact that the world itself was apparently collapsing on everyone's heads because the Princess had decided to just end everything. Hell, she had heard word (or had warped space so she could get close enough to hear the words), that the Princess had gone and punched up Lung. Which meant that the Princess was getting more action than she was.

Which was a huge what the fuck moment. Like a seriously huge, what the fuck moment.

It wasn't helped that she was on patrol, doing the one thing that was probably very boring and totally not worth it at all given how quiet the city was these days.

Missy let out a sigh. She was currently paired with Hannah, or rather Miss Militia when she was outside. The both of them had been spending more time together lately, probably a direct result of Fred. One of them was training under Fred since somehow he just knew what she needed to improve, while Miss Militia was training… and also oggling the man. She had gotten much more overt as of late.

Missy wasn't sure how she felt about that. It was sort of weird, it was also… sort of really weird.

He was proving to be more of a father than her own and it was rather strange to see Miss Militia get so friendly, even if Missy had thought she would be a cool mom. It was very disturbing to know what it was that her mind was wishing behind the scenes, it was not something that she wanted to know about herself.

Regardless, they were on patrol and she was very much not enjoying this. Again.

The fourth patrol this week where nothing happened, no druggies, no drug dealers, nothing. If they wanted those they would need to go into the gang areas and only the Protectorate full time heroes were allowed to go into there. She was a Ward which meant that clearly she was useless and kept to the safe zones.

She heaved another sigh as she bounded across the rooftops, bounding through the world at speeds which made her look rather ridiculous… if anyone could see her. Just stepping through the world like it was a stroll in the park while Miss Militia strolled along below her on the streets. She couldn't fly and Missy wasn't quite good enough to move people across the street reliably.

Not yet.

Missy kept making her way through only to seeeeeee… yes. A drug dealer.

Victory.

Speaking into her mic Missy told Hannah that she was going in and kicking some bad guy ass. Some very very soon to be broken ass when her foot was done with it. Straight up the left buttcheek, whenever he sat down he was going to look ridiculous with a cast around one butt cheek and not the other.

Still, he was to be given a chance…

"Stop! This is the Protectorate!" She shouted out as intimidatingly as possible (read not very).

"Ughbu," the man mumbled, fumbling for what looked like a pistol.

Chance!

Grinning in anticipation Missy dived in, her foot arcing through the air and slamming into his wobbly, flabby buttocks.

Yes.

The man flew up into the air, a mere few inches but for him, it probably felt like miles, her foot was very good at breaking things now, Fred had made sure of that.

A pattering of footsteps from behind told her that Miss Militia had arrived and was going to be reading the man his rights while Missy was about to hop back to the roof and maybe find more punching bags… or rather people.

She grinned, mission accomplished.

"Nice kick there Girly, could use a bit more oomph to it, make sure your leg is bent next time to avoid joint damage." Came a voice to her right, above her head, rumbling through her body as she prepared to fight to the death.

It was Fred.

What was he doing here? The evil evil man.

"Fr…..mmhmmghhm," She mumbled into his hand. Woops, the Unwritten rules… right. Only he had no cape name, what the hell was she supposed to call him?

"Private is fine Girly." He rumbled, no doubt… yup. He was grinning at her. His teeth flashed in the moonlight. Blinding her in their whitish, enamel rich glory.

"What are you doing here?" She asked once the hand was off of her mouth. It was a big hand, wrapping its way around her cheek, like a mask.

"Checking on a little something for the Sergeant." He said, grinning at her.

"You weren't following us or anything were you?" Miss Militia asked him, a suspicious little lilt to her voice. Overshadowed by joy. She really was into him, wasn't she?

"No no. I was just doing my job big Girly, saw a little flicker, and thought that only one person could have that bad of a kicking posture and low and behold, little Girly." He said, grinning even wider at her.

Missy kicked his leg… ineffectually. It felt like she was trying to kick a rock and it hurt as if she had just kicked a rock. The man was unfair, everything about him was unfair. Where did she get those muscles? She wanted those muscles!

"Oh… Are you going to be joining us on our patrol today? It could be a joint exercise to promote better cooperation between our groups." Miss Militia said, on the ball today. Only the way she emphasized the word 'joint' had Missy feeling a little queasy. She had seen what was on Clockblocker's computer, she had wanted to wash away from her mind what she had seen on his computer.

She was a big girl… as terrible as the American sexual education classes were, she had gotten a very graphic view of it and trying to imagine Fred and Miss Militia like that was hurting her mind.

It was… not something she wanted to see ever again. Never ever again.

"You're not going anywhere. Finally caught you. Gonna fuck you up real good." Came a voice from a few meters ago. Missy sighed, really? Really really? Just what the hell was going through their minds that they thought they could just go right up and try to mug a Hero?

Oh… they had guns.

Missy had her powers and her fists. Fists that were about to break every bone in their stupid little bodies. Miss Militia had even more guns, just what the hell did they think they were doing? Did they want to die that badly?

Missy shook her head, some people just defied her imagination in just how stupid they could be.

She grinned, time to play.

"Well now Girly. Think of this as a little test, will you? Take down at least 10 of them in the next 10 seconds if you want to pass and we can move onto the next stage of your training." Fred said suddenly, startling her from the haze that was filling her mind.

Next stage of training? Take down 10 of them in 10 seconds? That… that was like giving her candy and just force feeding it to her. This was too easy.

She grinned.

"Without your powers." He added… the bastard.

Missy glared at him from behind her mask and if the smile on his face was any indication he knew just how she felt about this. Missy vowed for the umpteenth time to get vengeance on this man, to demonstrate to him why Missy Biron was not to be messed with and she was going to crush him. Not today, not tomorrow… but soon. Soon she would demonstrate her might and he would worship at her feet.

"Without her powers!? That's suicide!" Shouted Miss Militia, looking scandalized. Or rather her eyebrows had looked scandalized, the rest of her face was hidden from view.

"It's not as if it's difficult, she's been trained adequately." He said, causing her to grin.

Yes, oh yes, she had been trained 'adequately'.

"Ready when you are Girly." Fred said, standing as if he didn't care that they had guns aimed at him.

Then again he could probably grin at the bullets and make them drop from the anger.

Missy waited soon soon… they were getting closer… soon.

"Dying of old age here Girly," fine the bastard.

Missy sprinted at them, her legs a blue as she used her small size to get an advantage, ducking beneath their gaze, beneath the barrels, straight at them.

Then came the bullets, Missy's eyes checking all those guns in front of her, none were shooting at her, good. Right up at the first man, arm cocked to the right, ready for a roundhouse straight at his cheek.

He noticed, eyes wide jerking the barrel of the rifle at her, ready for the kill.

Only too bad for him, Missy had her left hand push the barrel out of the way, she was already too close for him, unlucky idiot. Eyes wide he could see every little crease of her glove, and as she slammed her fist into the side of his head, she could see the horror inside of his eyes as his head twisted to the side.

Not a knockout blow by any means, but it brought his head down, down into her knee that was already on the way up, Missy grappling onto his body for leverage. It slammed into his face, fracturing his cheek and sending him down.

A spin backwards, use the momentum of the kick, foot out, back of the head, down he goes.

Dive down, knee to the balls, use momentum of upward leap for maximum damage. The way he keened as he fell told her it was effective, a foot to the chin and he was out cold.

…

8 of them down, where were the other 2? Wait… were there even 2 others? Did he just trick her? The… ugh.

Turning back the way she came Missy spied Miss Militia presiding over what looked to be a dozen bodies on the ground, her beanbag shotgun taking them down at center mass Missy was sure. She had seen similar before. Miss Militia when she wasn't going gaga over Fred was an ass-shooting machine, bang bang bang, one beanbag per target, right where it would knock them out.

Like one of those Westerns she used to watch, It's high noooon.

Missy began to walk back, Miss Militia would likely call in the PRT to deal with them, she would need to stand Guard over them but it should be fine… for now.

Only Miss Militia's shout of "You've been shot!" had her using her powers to zip over to their location immediately.

"Big Girly, it's gonna take a lot more than some piddly little stubber to put me down." He said, sounding like he hadn't been shot at all. Which knowing him meant that he probably was about to die.

Standing in front of him with Miss Militia, she could see outlined in the night sky the small holes that riddled his chest.

Far from nothing.

"Look." He said, prodding one of the holes, only for his finger to bend just after it touched the surface…

What.

'We Catachans are made of tough stuff Girly. Gonna take more than a little piece of metal to bring me down." He said, patting her on the head then rubbing it in. Messing up all the hair under the helmet she was sure.

As for Miss Militia… she had taken the chance to drop her hand on his chest to make sure he wasn't joking… only she had forgotten her initial plan and was now doing little fingertip swirls on his pectoral muscles.

"Well as interesting as this is, I think it's time we got to the Jungle part of Jungle fighting don't you agree?" Fred asked, smiling at her, rubbing her hair even harder.

"Jungle?"

"Oh yes. The jungle. Girly here and Bigger Girly are now qualified to start the proper training." He said, his eyes shining with his evil intent.

Oh… oh no.

George12

Dec 4, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 31 Missy

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George12

OAMU

Dec 4, 2016

#370

She was Missy Biron, she was a badass and she was going to prove it.

Right now she needed to sneak up behind this fool and then stick her knife in the back of his head. It was going to be an involved effort but she was the best and she was going to prove it.

She was Missy Biron and fuck all the haters.

She had to be careful. Veeeery careful. The whole point of this was so that she could prove that she was good enough to pass to the next stage of her training, to get out of here and maybe try some of this for real.

Hand sloooowly going forward, her left hand kept down on the ground to anchor her and to make sure she didn't slip and make a noise. She could see why the physical training had been so ridiculous in the first place, the amount of effort that crawling took was simply out of this world when it came down to it.

Her arms, her stomach, her thighs, her legs, her back, all of it receiving a workout. Every single muscle in her body had to be tensed to make sure that she didn't put all of her weight down and possibly knock a rock or something astray. That would alert him to her presence.

Every inch forward was one that took all of her mental processing powers, all of her skill, all of her ability. Each and every move being one that required her to scan the ground in front of her for possible obstacles, for possible detection devices, for possible traps. Her right hand this time reaching out to feel gently for possible tripwires, possible depression platforms for IEDs, possible lights that might indicate a detection device, the screamers were the worst they just went off in your ear if they felt movement and that was just horrible.

This time around there was nothing. Probably.

She hadn't yet worked out all of his tricks yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Feeling nothing, Missy set down her right hand, easing her knees forward slightly, her memory telling her to set her knee a little to the right this time to avoid the little tripwire while also watching out for that rock on the left side.

Carefully.

One leg, the other, one hand, ok.

She was not a few inches closer.

Time to repeat all of it.

Left hand out…

"Fail," Fred said, looking down on her. Missy gritted her teeth, said some very uncomplimentary things about him under her breath (which he could hear anyway, it's why she did it), before skulking away.

She had been just a few meters away from him when he had thrown a little piece of chalk at her head, startling her out of her focus. When she looked up he was fully facing her with an eyebrow raised. Hands on his hips, looking like he was the most relaxed man in the world.

"Tunnel Vision." He had said, like that explained everything.

It did but that was no excuse for him being so lazy.

Missy frowned before stomping off to join Hannah who was already waiting for her.

It looked like Hannah had been taken out first, which did much to salve Missy's pride. Wasn't she meant to be good at this? She was an adult PRT member and they did the whole stake-out thing on a regular basis, didn't they? Too bad she was covered in little pink marks… from where Fred had gotten her with the chalk.

"Missy," Hannah said, waving her hand halfheartedly at the Ward.

"How did he get you?" Missy asked, sitting down next to her, leaning a little in. She was a badass but sometimes she was also a tired badass.

"He put me in the hard course since I said I had done this before," Hannah said, a touch of bitterness in her voice.

"Hard course?" Missy asked, her voice full of surprise, she hadn't known that there was going to be another level to the training. More training… joy.

"Yes, the same as what you had to do, but he was throwing chalk at me the whole time," Hannah said, pointing to the dust that was there on her left shoulder.

"Why?"

"Force her to make mistakes. She needs to be able to crawl through artillery, sniper fire, mortar fire, regular fire, burning fire, rubble and everything else while remaining silent and invisible, while also paying enough attention that she can avoid the incoming pieces of rubble that might knock her out of concentration." Fred said looming over both of them.

"But throwing chalk? What does that do?" Missy asked.

"It tells me every time she failed to dodge a piece." He said, demonstrating by lobbing a piece of chalk into the air at a high angle. He grinned as he did so, drawling the words out.

"That's evil," Missy said, her voice very serious.

"It's war Girly. Now then why don't the two of you get going? You're in no shape to try for a round two." He said, rubbing Missy's hair and patting Hannah on the head, much to her annoyance. Missy's and Hannah's annoyance that was. He treated them like they were children or something which was insulting. She was a Ward! She had even taken those 8 guys out before on her own! Sure Hannah took out like 20 but she was an adult, Missy had a few years to get there.

"What are you going to do?" Missy asked, realizing that she had no idea what he did in his spare time.

"Make sure all the yobbos are up to scratch and assigning them training if they aren't." He said grinning at them.

Well, that was good. He tortured everyone equally it seemed. Even if he was an asshole, he was an equal opportunity asshole which honestly made them feel a little better about the whole thing. At least he wasn't singling them out.

Or maybe that was her mentality that was used to this kind of training and just wanted someone else to suffer like she had.

Which was really immature… but she didn't care. If she had to suffer then they all had to suffer as well. No mercy!

"Let's go Girly, I'll walk you out the front," Fred said, gently prodding both of them with his fingers in the forehead. The fingers that were like as big as her entire nose and then some. That was a big finger…

As the three of them walked out, Missy considered that maybe… just maybe she could use her training to sneak up on him? That… that would be really cool actually.

Looking at Hannah she could see the both of them were thinking of the same idea. She grinned and winked at her before turning her head back so she wouldn't give away any top secret operational information. Fred wouldn't know what hit him. Or rather what followed him, but the first one sounded better.

As the two of them walked back to the route that would take them to the PRT HQ, Missy quietly pulled Hannah to one side as they rounded the corner.

"Ok Hannah, just step after me," Missy whispered to her, making sure to hold Hannah's hand so she wouldn't be left behind.

Warping space slightly, Missy took a step up onto the roof with Hannah by her side.

"Wait! I thought you couldn't use your powers with people around you!" Hannah whispered at her.

"It happened last night, training with Fred must have done something to it," Missy said grinning at Hannah as she did so. She warped space slightly so that she could see Fred as he walked along the sidewalk… rather mundanely. She had thought that maybe he would be jumping on rooftops or something. That was rather disappointing, but maybe he would do something cool in a bit.

The two of them got moving, their feet shuffling on the rooftop as they made their way forward, making sure to avoid setting off anything that might alert him as they had been taught. Carefully walking along the seams on a welded rooftop, walking along the beams, walking up high where there were less rocks and gravel. Making their way forward, keeping at least a 50 meter gap between Fred and themselves. They weren't too sure what his exact range for being bullshit was, and they didn't want to risk it.

And so it was that the three of them walked the streets of Brockton at 7pm, the sun setting gently in hills, the two women far too engrossed to pay any attention to the sunset that their own vantage point would have offered an unparalleled view of.

Carefully going forward, carefully making sure that… hey.

Fred started taking some turns, some twists, going in and around to places that made no sense. The only reason that they were able to keep up with him being because they had Missy to keep a very literal scope on him at all times. Even still it was going to be hard to keep that 50 meters limit at this rate without coming much closer to him. What with the way he was heading deeper into the city near the coast. Far too much open space where he would be able to see them, but if they stuck to the side, they wouldn't be able to close in quick enough if he did a dive.

Ugh.

Even when he wasn't training them he was being a massive pain in the ass.

Missy and Hannah took the risk and got a little closer to him, hugging the walls to the right of him as they did so. He was heading away from the Guard controlled Dock areas so that made things slightly easier, but it was still near the water. If he was going to be taking a swim… how the hell were they going to follow him without making it very obvious?

And then he did. Because he was an ass like that. Even when he didn't know if there was anybody near him, he was still an ass because that was just how he did things. He was an ass. A massive ass.

Missy heaved a great sigh and along with Hannah the both of them entered the water, drenching themselves as they did so. He was swimming out and out and out… and out. And now he was heading in.

What the hell?

Missy quickly warped her and Hannah back to land and then behind a rooftop. There was going to be no discovery of her now, not when she had her powers to help her! HAhahahaha.

Missy gave a little chuckle as she considered the awesoness of her powers, ignoring the raised eyebrow that Hannah was sending her way.

They continued their tail of him, keeping up with the constant twists and turns that he was making, keeping up despite the sheer absurdity of some of these moves, ones that took him in literal circles. Just what the hell was he doing?

Hannah and Missy were nearing the edge of their patience when he stopped and looked directly at them. Or at least at the little warped space that Missy was using to keep an eye on him, eyebrow raised.

They had been found. Dammit.

He didn't say anything as Missy deposited her and Hannah in front of him. Just raising that damned eyebrow.

"We just wanted to see what you did after training," Missy said sullenly.

Hannah remained silent.

"Have experience with Psykers trying to trail me Girly, you gotta do better than that," Fred said grinning at them.

He walked forward and poked his fingers at their foreheads, knocking their heads back slightly as he walked away.

"Don't get lost now. I've sent you right back home." Fred said as he rounded the corner and… disappeared. As in Missy could not find him anywhere even using her powers… just… how did he do that?

How could she do that?

Wait home?

Missy turned to… oh. This was the PRT HQ… funny. He was a real funny guy.

Missy let out a sigh, ignoring Hannah's giggles as she stomped back to the base. She was going to get a shower to get rid of this… wait.

"He knew we were following him! That's why he went into the harbour and then walked all that… uuuuuugh. Fuuuuuuck." Missy swore deeply, from the very depths of her soul.

Hannah merely sighed and clapped her on the shoulder (not even reprimanding her about her language) pushing her forward into the PRT where her strange poses wouldn't get captured on film or something. Then posted onto the internet as "guts pre-teen" or something.

George12

Dec 4, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 32 Krieger 6969

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George12

OAMU

Dec 4, 2016

#371

48#6969 was a Death Korps of Krieg Engineer. She was a particularly good one she felt, she was after all a Death Korps of Krieg Engineer, they were the best.

They were very good when it came to breaching enemy lines, in destroying their defences, in crushing resistance, in tunneling underneath enemy fortifications planting massive mines which would tear apart the entire defensive screen and allow their own to push forward, fighting in the pitch darkness of the underground tunnels with nothing but their shotguns and their gas grenades to keep them alive.

They were the front line troops that were used when there was a base that needed to be cracked open. It was as simple as that, the enemy had a fortification of some kind, or they perhaps had a trench system, anything that was proving a hindrance to the advance essentially, all of it was in their purview and their orders often came down to "crack this open," which they would in typical Krieger fashion.

If it needed bodies then they would supply them, if it needed their sacrifice, it would supply them, if it needed anything at all, they would supply them until the objective was completed, or they were all dead.

More often than not it was the latter that was the problem, but it had not yet happened to the 48th Engineering Regiment. Not as of yet anyway.

As for 6969, she was used to the idea that her number for some reason invited laughter amongst the more… ill disciplined regiments. she was not quite privy to the jokes that they laughed at, nor was she familiar with the concept of laughing itself, it seemed to her like a waste of respirator longevity, something that could cost lives inside the dark tunnels underneath a battlefield.

Why they would be so willing to gamble with their lives was not something she ever understood. Then again perhaps they understood that they were inherently worthless and in dying sooner, they would be able to join the Emperor sooner. Perhaps it was merely an act of self-sabotage. She would have to consult with a Commissar the next time she saw one, it would not do to have the Imperium's regiments sabotaging themselves by laughing, it was a disgrace it was.

If she were allowed to shoot those of other regiments for crimes against the Imperium she would have done so already.

At least here they were free of the influence of the other regiments, free to do as they wished which as the Senior Watchmaster informed them was building a fortress.

It was a rather… complicated order actually. The fact that constructing fortresses what not exactly their specialty, theirs was the destruction of fortresses. The idea of building one never entering their minds, that was the job for the regular Kriegers who were quite good at establishing defensive positions.

They were Engineers, they were armed with shotguns for a reason. They were called in after a defensive line had been found and needed to be cracked after all. Deploying them elsewhere was a waste of the Imperium's resources, something that was a crime punishable by death. There was only so many of them after all and it was likely that most of them would die in the assault regardless.

They had milled about rather confused for a few hours until a message from the First Hand had told them to "Build the Fortress without the weaknesses that you find in other fortresses." It had sparked in them a fervour that they had not ever experienced before. Perhaps using their skill in cracking fortresses, they would be able to build the perfect one for the Princess.

It was very very interesting indeed and they had gone all out. The entire 1000 man detachment moving themselves into high gear and speeding up the process that they had begun of removing their section of the island of all signs of life, all signs of anything that might not be perfectly flat ferrocrete. The 50 kilometer radius being cleaned out and properly set within a week. Next came building up and building down, their location being in the center of the island itself.

The lower levels were necessary for the Teleportarium that would bring for them more reinforcements with which to speed up the process, while at the same time allowing for ready transit between the two sides of the world. In short, it was a very useful little idea and 6969 agreed wholeheartedly.

Digging through the ground with their melta-diggers, the Engineers quickly got to work digging out into the earth, clearing out vast tunnels and shafts which would be filled with ferrocrete at a later date. The very basics were being accomplished first, the bare bones of the Madagascar Base.

Which was why it was when the foundation had properly set itself, that the Kriegers then dug themselves down as deep as they could without dying to the heat. Two had died due to the heat so they knew what it was deep enough. It was here that vast rods of plasteel were inserted into the ground, surrounded by ferrocrete and ceramite, these shafts being the anchors that would prevent the Madagascar base being vulnerable to something as minor as shirts in the crust of the planet.

On top, the construction of what was looking to be a truly magnificent citadel was beginning. A citadel that already had the recesses in which they could station Earthshaker cannons, Hydra flak cannons, Gargoyle mortars and more. Dozens if not hundreds of them to make this the most heavily defended above ground structure on the planet. What was more, were the vast shafts dug for anti-orbital weaponry, all of it ready for installation by the Engiseers once they built the required structures for the Engiseers to come over in sufficient numbers for it to matter.

Just one would not be adequate for a facility of this scale, they needed an entire detachment of them.

As for the innards of the Citadel, it was designed in such a way that it heavily resembled the Princess Base, only it was not as wide in the corridors for the infantry, all the better to create better chokepoints to defend it with. The main hallways that the Mobile Suits could march through led directly to the gantries up above and the elevator that would take them up the spire. When the Citadel was done, it was going to be as high as the venerable Fang of Fenrisian origin, tall enough that Capital ships could resupply without needing a single shuttle.

The Madagascar Base was going to be the tallest structure, the most heavily defended structure, the most structurally sound construction, and the pinnacle of defensive engineering by the 48th Engineering Regiment, even if most of them weren't here.

But to start with it was like digging a tunnel. One needed to work their way through by layers, propping up the tunnel with the proper equipment when needed and ensuring structural integrity at all times. And so it was here that they were carrying out the same principles, layering on the ferrocrete, building each level meter by meter, there would be no mistakes.

Each and every line of the inner building would be done perfectly, the room of mistakes non-existent. Should there be a minor imperfection, there might be a major one, and if there was a major one then there was a structural weakness that could be exploited. A situation that must be avoided at all costs. If the Princess was vulnerable then they had failed and failure was unacceptable.

As for 6969 she was currently working on setting up one of the lower gantries, it was only 50 meters high off the ground, it being big enough to sit an entire Mobile Suit if necessary but in practice would probably sit an Earthshaker or possibly a Demolisher cannon to destroy those that had come too close to the citadel and needed destroying. It was a task that required patience and skill, something that 6969 had in abundance.

First placing down the Plasteel rods to give the ferrocrete structural integrity when it came to shearing forces, then pouring over the ferrocrete which formed the basis of the entire structure and gave it compression strength. The ferrocrete mixture was mixed with ceramite in order to give it heat resistant properties, an important factor to consider when possible insurgents would come after the structure had been completed and be armed with Lasguns that they liberated off some less… disciplined regiment.

She was watching them.

The possibilities were low but it was entirely possible for the population of a world to rebel against their Primarch, it had certainly happened in the past during the Horus Heresy. Best to prepare for that eventuality now rather than later.

6969 took a moment to make sure that the mini-gantries that popped off the bigger one were being properly done as well, they needed to be sturdy enough to support autocannons and other heavy weapons that would be installed. At this height, they were perfect for destroying incoming mobs of heretics or insurrectionists… possibly both.

Who knew what the enemies of the Princess would be in the future and what it would turn out like. Best to prepare the Citadel to handle any and all threats that would be coming towards it. There could be no other option, not if they wanted to ensure the safety of the Princess.

The Citadel was being completed, already it was striving to the heavens with a series of massive spires, each capable of allowing massive Thunderhawks to arrive and dock if they so wished, the vast conveyor system installed by the Mechanicus' Engiseers allowing for the swift and efficient movement of cargo and craft in and out of each landing pad, should it be necessary the Citadel could take in enough supplies to feed an entire regiment in mere hours. The hundreds of thousands of men and women all safely secured inside in the meantime.

For the Engiseers themselves, they and their Servitors had spent the last months building, developing, constructing a defensive system that rivalled even that of Princess Base. Any attackers whether they be human or Titan would be facing the combined might of the tens of thousands of turrets, missile systems, booby traps and more. Garrisons of infantry spread throughout the entire structure above ground and below, all of them ready to respond a moment's notice to news of an attack.

The warren of corridors and hallways for both armour and infantry allowed for them to respond in such a manner that each and every step into the citadel would be greased by the blood of the dead and the wounded, each and every one of them condemned for every step they took into this holy sanctum.

What was more was that the Engiseers had installed incredibly rare and awesome weapons in the shafts that had been excavated previously. Weapons that were designed to lay waste to entire armies, weapons that were designed to destroy even the mightiest of battleships in a single strike. Mighty Flak Turrets designed to destroy attack craft that may be a mere ten meters long to that of one ten times that in length, the mighty airburst shells cared not which. The Lances, laser weapons that bear only the same rough familiarity as to that of the Lasgun, each one able to melt their way through a ship's Ceramite and Adamantium hull with ease.

Plasma Projectors to be used when there was no other options, boiling away the atmosphere as they fired but capable of tearing entire sections of a warship off and melting it in a supernovae of heat and death.

Short Burn Torpedoes, massive ICBMs stored in silos, ready to be sent rocketing through the depths of space at enemies near and far, each armed with Melta weapons, displaying brief bursts of heat as hot as the core of suns for a brief moment, melting away anything caught in their paths.

Should even that not be enough, there was the Vortex Torpedo, a weapon that while similar to the Vortex missile of the Deathstrike launcher, was much larger in scope, able to devour entire sections of space, entire squadrons caught in the blast. Capable of tearing apart entire ships and sending them to their doom in the cold unreality of the Immaterium.

All of this and more, the Madagascar Base would be the most secure and powerful of the Princess' fortifications, a beacon of her greatness, a testament to her power.

All who gazed upon it would see the shining spires of man, all those that stood below it would understand their insignificance.

In the greatest of all the spires, the Princess' Chambers would rest, so that she might glance out at the world and see those that were her subjects, her responsibility, her duty.

George12

Dec 4, 2016

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Threadmarks 040 Magnus Pt 7

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George12

OAMU

Dec 5, 2016

#379

Magnus stood and read the books, the works of fiction that hit so very close to home that he could feel the fleas leaping onto his flesh.

Russ was a bastard, but one that was doing his duty… but still a bastard. A mutt. Yes. He was a mutt. A flea ridden infestation of muttiness.

He knew that wasn't a word, he didn't care.

He would need to find a way to work the word mutt into an insult that he could use on his brother when he finally emerged from his self imposed quest in the Eye of Terror because he was an idiot and probably thought he could use his nose to find what it was he was looking for. Only it was the Eye of Terror and if having a better than average sense of smell was all that was required of you, then countless would have simply walked out the other side already.

Regardless, this alternate timeline of some kind, fiction(?) that involved himself and his brothers, well half of them at any rate was… dark. So very dark. He could very easily imagine it himself, an Imperium where the Caretakers had not shown up and very carefully (read not at all) smashed apart the continuum and instead there was nothing but him brooding in a tower for 10,000 years… wait… wasn't that what he… no.

Bad Magnus.

He was actually helping in the real timeline, not moping like some idiot.

PLANNING TO DESTROY THE IMPERIUM like a fucking nerd.

At least in the real timeline Guilliman and the others were still alive to stop the Imperium from turning into a pile of stinking Bureaucracy, he would need to talk to his brothers more and show his appreciation. Without them around, well, he could read the stories of how things turned out now.

Still… it explained partly the amount of Eldar and Tau pornography he had found on the 'internet'. They were not Xeno worshippers, merely… partly Xeno worshippers. "Tits are life, ass is hometown," as his father used to say.

Magnus shook his head, he didn't need to go down that route, not today. Not when his patience was hanging by such a thin string.

He was back to focusing on the stories and as he read more and comprehended the sheer… grimdark that was the Imperium of fiction, he was struck again by just how much things could change if just a few words here and there were changed or never said at all.

Still, it explained partially why it was that they thought he was a Daemon Primarch. The fact that he was already red and whoever had written this was a lazy piece of shit since he looked no different as a Primarch than as a Daemon Primarch.

Were they just not trying? Just… did they fucking give up halfway through? That was the only way he could explain just what the fuck happened to his character design.

Why was Fulgrim a giant fucking snake thing and he was just… him but with more chains? What was this shit? Like spikes, just a few more spikes, a creepier sword and… the fuck?

If he was going to Chaos, he would like turn himself blue or something because fuck all of this. He was tempted to do it just to fuck with the writers or the illustrators, or whoever had done this… this… travesty.

Magnus took a breath to calm himself down before turning back to look at the assembled delegates.

"I am afraid that there is little I can do to refute this, the documented evidence is too extensive and I merely have myself here to do the talking. Regardless you can rest assured that I am not a Daemon, if I was then there would be significantly more… blood and skulls around the place." Magnus said, shaking his head and returning the reading materials to the… openable box and closing it as he did so. Merely doing the opposite of what the ever so helpful Frank had done with his hands before.

He was tempted to keep them… but he was a collector, only original editions for him. Unopened, fresh in their delicious packaging. Ones he could gaze at while he read the second one that he had bought.

Turning towards the delegates fully, Magnus considered his next actions. He understood now why it was that they were feeling fear towards him in the first place, he was very much something that could possibly be from their worst nightmares. The only ones that could possibly hope to defeat him being that woman at the back with the latent psykic powers and the Armsmaster, not because of their skill but because they had powers of some kind.

Likely gifted to them by the creatures that were even now suckling on their minds.

Magnus considered perhaps singling them out for a demonstration as to why he was not a Daemon but the fact that they did not have any proper psykers with them certainly made it more difficult than it should have been.

Still, it would not impact him as much, he was still a Primarch and he was going to be enjoying himself even if the people were suspicious of him, not that it was really any different from the state of the Imperium on a casual basis when it came down to it. The Imperium was… not exactly the most tolerant when it came to things regarding the psykic.

"You could undergo power testing. We can measure your powers." Said the Piggot woman. Interesting, but still… how would they measure what had never been seen before? Even now there was no psykic measurement devices in the Imperium, all of it requiring a trained psyker to individually check and measure levels of their own.

"Not possible young lady, even in the Imperium we do not have the tools, you would not have any yourself. Fret not, I shall behave myself. This is my little sister's world to conquer, not mine. I already have one as you are well aware, another would be far too much work." Magnus said, shuddering at the idea of more paperwork. He had seen what Perturabo needed to do to keep on top of his empire, he did not wish the same on himself.

"My lord Primarch." Came the voice to his left, oh? What was this?

Magnus looked and saw what was a Catachan (he kept up with the Regiments, he enjoyed the collectables after all) that was kneeling in front of him.

"Ah, Catachan. What brings you here?" He asked, looking down at the man.

"When we heard you were leaving to tour the city, we made up a data-slate for you to use, but you were gone before we could deliver it. Please, accept this here. I apologize for my lateness." The Catachan said. Magnus only nodded and said "worry not Catachan, this is my fault if anything. Do not blame yourself."

The man, like all Imperial Citizens, just bowed his head harder. Magnus had a hard time not sighing out loud, dammit, and here he thought he had been able to escape the usual life of being in the Imperium for a few hours.

Still, the data-slate, the Catachan wasn't going away until he read it so he might as well.

Hmmm…

Ah. It was that this world believed them to be something from works of fiction, as per his earlier hypothesis, but the fact that they had Mobile Suits and Caretakers had changed things dramatically. It was an established work in this world, all of which had him as an enemy, something to be concerned about?

It was not as if it truly mattered but it was certainly something that might impinge on his future dealing with the universe. It was a different universe, the one he had just read about was clearly an alternate universe at best. The same as what Magnex had written about his adventures in a universe where all the Space Marines were women… and the Sororitas were men… that had been a ride.

Regardless it was interesting.

He was a Primarch however, anything that they could possibly do to him would be minor at best. Not truly a matter to be concerned about.

It was then that he heard an alarm. One that he was unfamiliar with, one that he felt he should be familiar with given the expressions on the faces of those in front of him.

Interesting. Perhaps this was some kind of attack? It certainly reminded him of the alarms that had been installed in their various bases during the Great Crusade.

Interesting.

"Something to be concerned about?" He asked, looking at the delegation, amusement rising as he did so. Perhaps they were still afraid of him, or rather… they were still afraid of him.

"Endbringer alarm!" Screamed one of the Guards… Frank his name was. Perhaps he wasn't quite as useful as Magnus had thought he would be.

Well, it certainly answered one of his questions at least. The fact that there were Endbringers here was certainly cause for concern. The machine intelligences he had detected were likely these, the ones with the pre-programmed responses to the world. He would have to pay attention, just how would they plan to defeat the beast?

Not very well if the information he had gathered was correct.

"My Lord Primarch, at the end of the data-ream I have been informed is information regarding these Endbringers. Perhaps it will prove of use to you." Said the Catachan, good man that one. He would definitely need to recommend him to his sister, good men were hard to find. Though that may have changed, what with the fact he had been in the Imperial Palace for most of his life at this point.

"Thank you Catachan, you represent your Regiment well," Magnus said as he perused the data-slate as indicated.

He felt the delegation leaving, in a bit of a hurry. Were these Endbringers so very dangerous? Oh right. Yes they were, they were called Endbringers after all.

They were very strange. Artificial no doubt. He remembered fighting similar beasts during the various campaigns on the Great Crusade. Beasts that were constructed from the might of the psykic powers melded with blasphemous technology. Monsters that were designed to wage war most foul, unstoppable weapons of death and destruction. Yet they also served like the robots of the Adeptus Mechanicus, serving roles in their societies that could only be accomplished by something of that magnitude. The most dangerous of works, the most strenuous of tasks. One merely needed to change their instructions to affect the change. This dichotomy had always been interesting to Magnus, the way they served to nurture in times of peace and to destroy in times of war.

The Imperium had forbidden their construction, the fact of the matter being that they were far too similar to the Abominable Intelligences, having no cogitators and instead capable of over time developing their own souls and the ability to reason. It was far too dangerous, if the powers of Chaos or the Eldar got their hands on them, the complete annihilation of large parts of the Imperium were far too likely.

Especially these ones, they who had increasingly dense materials formed around a core. A core that even Adeptus Mechanicus instruments could not penetrate.

How very… absurd.

Magnus shook his head at the thought, only they who were completely assured in their power would have constructed such a thing. To have done so otherwise would only be inviting death and destruction upon themselves if the beasts were ever converted to the opposing side. Still, they lacked the ability to influence the psyche except perhaps for this Simurgh, yet she did not do so truly, merely through the use of her sound waves.

The only reason that the Engiseers were able to detect them in the first place was the simple fact that the Engiseers had gotten very good over time with regards to detecting the influence of the Sound Marines of the Emperor's Children Traitor Legion. While most knew them for their ability to use sound as a direct weapon, the more insidious uses were to change the very minds of those they opposed. Messages that drilled directly into the minds of those that opposed them on the battlefield… or perhaps… they never showed up all. The only sign that they were there was an entire population turning on itself in an orgy of sex and blood.

It was not something that was really inducted into the wider knowledge of the Sound Marines, the fact being the Inquisition executed any and all who fought against them, even for the briefest of moments. Even Space Marines deployed against them were watched with a vigilant eye and subject to a mind-wipe at the earliest opportunity.

Hopefully, this would not be the target of his attention, he hated the ones that enjoyed mindgames, they were the worst ones.

Maybe he could fight the big one with the flames?

Oh, wait.

He shouldn't be fighting them, that was his sister's job. But his sister was unprepared… ummm… just what was he supposed to do here. She was still an infant and sending her out to die was a very big nono, even his father had never done that.

But what could he do to stop it? The programming was… oh, wait. The programming.

Yet another reason the Imperium did not employ them, they were far too malleable to the designs of those that possessed even a modicum of psykic power… and an indepth and exhaustive knowledge of the programming language of the psykic kind… just a little difficult, and maybe it would take 10,000 years to get a grasp on the most basic commands… but who had the time?

Duh. Magnus you idiot. You do.

Oh right.

The programming was not hard coded as it was with the Machine Spirits, he did not need scrapcode to influence and change it. It was going to be a tiny bit difficult, but he had the time, he had the power, and he had test subjects.

Magnus considered this for a moment and nodded, yes, that would be what he was going to do. Tweak their programming just a little so that his sister could fight them when she was at full strength and not as she was now.

A little tweaking, however, it would not do for her to put this off indefinitely, and definitely not have them all come at the same time.

Decisions decisions.

George12

Dec 5, 2016

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Threadmarks 041 Magnus Pt 8

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George12

OAMU

Dec 5, 2016

#380

Magnus had been swept up by the events, the way that the numerous Warp-Predatored humans had arrived from portals which were not through the Immaterium… but from something else. Very very interesting indeed. He had tagged along to maybe speak to one or two of them.

The delegation had left, he wanted answers… and now he was here. In a room that he had to teleport into, not the cosiest of rooms, far too many people but it was a room.

He would need to speak with the one known as Strider at a later date, teleportation without the need to travel through the Warp would only be a boon for the Imperium of Man. Then again… it was likely he had no idea how his powers worked, because duh… Warp Predators. He would need to perhaps run some tests on the man, keep him in a little… no. Bad Magnus.

Those days are behind you.

But maybe just a few non-invasive tests.

As for the rest of it… eh. He was standing inside of a room… he was looking at a man that was called Legend espousing the dangers of these so called Endbringer battles. Magnus scoffed a little at that.

One in Three were killed.

Was that all? The Imperium lost so much more on so many more occasions and they acted as if One in Three was a dreadful number of some kind. Magnus could only shake his head at that, it was as if they were trying to create a sense of fear amongst those who were at the fight. Where was the speeches that spoke of bravery of courage! Of doing your duty for the future of humanity!

They would fight, they would die, it was the way of the world. Their deaths would be sacrifices upon which to build a better and greater future!

Then Magnus remembered that this wasn't the Imperium and they didn't have an unlimited number of troops to use, a concern that no doubt magnified the fear that they had felt with regards to this.

Magnus understood… if only partially. His Legion had multiple times been destroyed, from a full strength Legion at 100,000 Space Marines, all the way down to a mere 1000. He had lost thousands of men… of sons. So many of them dying to achieve the nebulous goal of uniting the galaxy under the Emperor.

He remembered them even now, even if his current sons could not, the gap in time being far too large for that. There were none of his original children left, all having perished over the years, fighting the eternal war that was the survival of mankind.

Magnus shook himself out of his thoughts as he perused the room. They were looking at him, of course. He was a Primarch, the closest that they would ever get to standing near perfection. Well… in a subjective sense, that was. He was aware of how different he was compared to the other Primarchs, or even the other humans in the galaxy. Or maybe even humans at all… being 5 meters tall certainly marked him as an outlier, a third the size of a Titan. Twice as tall as a Space Marine, badass.

He was Red, he was tall, he was rather amazing if he had anything to say about himself. It was just nobody could appreciate the fact of it. True it was an issue of him not revealing his true self… but seriously, who did that? Just… like… show what they really looked like to the world.

What if they laughed?

Magnus had decided to never do that, he was not opening himself to an attack like that, it could destabilize his mind and leave him open to attack from the Warp.

Yes. That was the real reason.

There were a few others there that were of particular interest to him now that he thought about it. The one that he had discovered to have latent psykic powers was in the room, in a different outfit, hiding her face. Very very interesting.

She was wearing something that looked like a skintight suit, a cape, dark.

He would have to have a chat with her at a later date. It would not do to allow that much latent power to go unused… and about her cape, those were certainly not the safest of the options available if she wanted to mark herself out.

As for the rest of them… they were all dressed rather strangely. He was not sure as to why, but it was like they were all Space Marines, all dressed in the most gaudy of colours possible. At least his Thousand Suns had a very simple colour scheme that did not revolve around stripes and bright colours… and whatever it was that they had.

Ugh.

No, if he caught any of his sons wearing those colours… those patterns, he would personally spank them. Hard.

He felt the being approach, this one… very strange. It had a power over the water in the area around it, an ability to simply draw matter through its core if he read this certain programming correctly, an ability to control the water through what looked to be an imposition of the power of the Warp.

Very very interesting.

It was oh so similar to the constructs he had battled on Hunsirun, a world that had creatures like these, creatures that tapped into the Warp and were capable of using it themselves despite their primitive souls. Each was very very dangerous, capable of wiping out Legions of Space Marines. It required a psyker to put one down, an immensely powerful psyker at that to alter the programming so that it would shut down, destruction was far too difficult even for him.

He would need to pay attention to these, if they were of such a high level of sophistication, then whatever had created them would be an even larger threat. One did not exert so much power over the Warp without themselves being powerful. Possibly on his level of might, but unlikely given he had found nothing that pinged his powers.

How very interesting.

And oh dear, was it trying to use the water to sweep him away?

Foolish. So very foolish.

"Everyone get…!" Magnus pre-empted the shouting man, the one with the cape, he didn't know his name, he wasn't important enough to worry about. He had given the speech however so he was likely of some importance, Magnus would need to find out his identity at a later date, he might be worth something to his sister.

Hand in the air, engram spinning, the structure of the spell forming in his palm, Magnus smiled. Truly it took a master to do what he did when it came to magic. His brothers might have their technological innovation, they might have their skill with the blade, they might have their might in the words and in the women (which he totally didn't envy), but he had his with magic.

There was no chanting, there was no drawing the engrams on the floor with blood and whatever it was that magic needed, no, he was a sorcerer, a true one at that. He did not need some stupid little chant to draw his power, he did not need to pretend to concentrate, magic flowed through him like water through a dam, just waiting to be unleashed upon the world. It waited for him, eager for his touch, readily altering its very nature to fit with his desires.

With a mere touch of his mind it was completed, a negation spell, one that would reverse any and all momentum at the beast. It wished to play with water? Then it would as they said… get splashed. He chuckled at his joke before sending the little glowing ball of blue and pink out, forming an immense wall that blocked the entire wave.

"What?" Asked one of the puny humans. Did they not understand? A Primarch wished to test his opponent, to test if it was worthy of his time, to test if it did not deserve to be crushed under his boot like the insignificant little worm that it was.

He flicked another, one that sent them all outside of the city. They and all of its inhabitants. It had to be done now before it was too late.

Magnus felt himself devolving into the being that he was during the Great Crusade. He had pursued the intellectual study, he had made himself a scholar both in body and mind. The Beast was before him and it had challenged him in battle. Was he going to deny that? Was he going to let it be?

It was his sister's prey.

Yet he could not resist the desire from the depths of his very soul itself that called out to him, called out for him to crush his enemies beneath his feet, to drive them down and see them broken before him. A primal urge, one that had influenced his shape, why was he red, why did his armour have horns, why was he so large? It was all very simple, his unconscious mind, the one that he had suppressed in the name of civilization bled through and he hadn't desired enough to stop it, or rather he hadn't desired at all, secretly hoping that it would one day emerge again.

He was he. He was Magnus, he was might.

And he would be playing with the little creature that thought it stood a chance against the sheer power of Magnus the Red.

He could justify it later, a way to test whether or not it was worthy to be considered a test for his sister. But in all honesty… he was here now and he wanted to fight. To wield his powers against a foe that would not shatter, that would not fall apart at the slightest touch. He could use spells that he had long sealed for their lethality against all but the most hardy of foes.

He could go all out.

Magnus roared with laughter as he strode forward, one motion of his palm exploding the wall outwards. He would meet this creature head-on and he would test his mettle. It wished to destroy his sister's little city? He would destroy its pride.

With an engram at his feet to propel his body at many times the speed of sound itself, Magnus launched himself at the beast, it was approximately twice as high as he was, skinny too. He might even be able to fight this one properly Magnus thought with a feral grin as his fist slammed into its head, driving it to the ground, the force of his punch cratering the earth. A vast shockwave spreading out and destabilizing if not destroying the buildings all around him as he did so.

His fist shattering from the force, a coat of red around the surrounding area.

Not that he cared. He was Magnus, this was his right… and he could regrow limbs.

Roaring in sync with the Beast as it tried to stand up, Magnus slammed his fist into the bottom of its head, driving it into the air as he sent an Engram ahead of it, this one for his patented super Magnus Combo.

A burst of energy as it launched the energy of one of Magnus' punches at its center mass, the Beast was sent downward, straight into Magnus' knee, another punch sending it up again.

Magnus knew that this was superficial. That this did not matter given what the Beast was made of, but it was just sooo cathartic to have a punching bag that did not fall into dust at the might of his attacks.

He should come to this universe more often, a way to relieve the stress that was dealing with his father.

As it swung its right arm at him, claws extended outward, Magnus only laughed harder, was this it? Was this the beast that the world was so afraid of? This pathetic little creature?

Magnus roared and with a strike that if it had connected with the ground, would have torn the very earth from the bedrock, slammed his Engram accelerated fist into the join that was the Beasts elbow, the sheer force of the punch instead blowing away the buildings several kilometers from his fist. In doing so, it tore off the Beast's arm, the entire spindly little creature being sent spinning over to the left in reaction to the impact of the strike.

Magnus followed it, he was not willing to allow it to leave as it pleased.

Still, the rational part of his mind, the one that handled the Engrams sent a small spell that covered his body, protecting it from the influence of Warp Based powers, it would not do to have the water inside his body be ripped out. While it wouldn't kill him, it would hurt and that would run the fun he was having.

It was a trained response, one from sparring with the Custodes. As he fought with his body, he had segregated a part of his mind away, one that used his massive psykic power to deliver blows alongside his body. A melding of mind and magic. It had taken him thousands of years to master it and now... here was an opportunity to test it.

As his hand healed from the force of the previous punch, Magnus sent a kick to its side, roaring with further glee as the beast was sent spiralling through the city, through buildings, ploughing up the earth as he did so.

Magnus was briefly concerned with the impact this would have on his Sister's city… but it was of no concern, she had her Regiments and they would rebuild, it was a terribly designed city anyway. That and he was careful in avoiding the bookstores and the libraries as they were called, he didn't want them damaged in any way.

As for the Beast, well it stood up and was regrowing its arm. Impressive, he might even be forced to use a portion of his real power at this rate.

As it sprinted forward to meet him, the water that shrouded it slinging at his face, Magnus burst into joyous laughter. As it smashed into his face, tearing off his lower jaw, Magnus slammed a fist into its gut, his mind already regrowing the bone, the enamel, the flesh.

This. This was the life.

This was why all the Primarchs led their armies, it was not because they were powerful, it was not because they were champions to rally behind.

Why did Guilliman the Rational, Rogal the Siegemaster, Magnus the Sorcerer lead their armies from the front? Was it because they were foolish, that they could not see where it was that they would best serve on the field of battle?

No.

It was because of what their father had passed down to them through his very soul.

A visceral and too real desire for battle, to test themselves against the mightiest of foes, to fight, to smash, to kill.

It was in their souls, it would never leave and Magnus roared to the heavens as he let himself slip under and became once again Magnus the Lord of Sorcery, the Crimson Tide, the Shatterer of Souls, the Might of Magic.

He who had crushed mountains, he who ended worlds, he who shattered the very fabric of reality itself by his whim.

Magnus was here.

Let all who gaze upon his fury cower and tremble.

For he wanted war

George12

Dec 5, 2016

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Threadmarks 042 Magnus Pt 9

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George12

OAMU

Dec 6, 2016

#388

Piggot watched.

She and the other members of the PRT who weren't on standby duties. The stood.

They watched.

The displaced city dwellers outside who were milling about.

They all watched.

There was nothing else they could do. Not in the face of this.

It had started innocuously enough. If one called the accusation of a Primarch as being a Daemon Primarch innocuous. It was not as if they had much to go on. The fact he had appeared in the middle of the city through a portal, he had horns all over his armour, the fact that he was red being a big clue in, and that he had spent the time searching around inside of bookstores and the library instead of meeting with the PRT itself.

Like someone who was on a reconnaissance mission instead of a diplomatic one. A worry.

He said he wasn't a Traitor but for now they were withholding judgement.

Trying to get him into power testing was a last ditch attempt to try and maybe find out what side he was on. Superstition about daemon blood and the like being all they had to go on.

That is until the Endbringer Alarm went off. Armsmaster's early warning system working and placing Leviathan on a straight course to their city.

Magnus had come along, prompting a frankly ridiculous amount of staring at the Primarch's presence. That and fear. The fact of the matter was that the 40k Universe was real. Which meant that if he was a Daemon Primarch… then the things that he could do to them were also real.

Sure he was said to be a loyalist, but 40 years of fiction said otherwise. Until the Princess herself vetted him, he would be viewed with suspicion and fear. Not that he wasn't going to be seen with that anyway… he was 5 meters tall, as in he was half the size of Leviathan for God's sake. He shouldn't even be able to walk without his bones shattering.

The gathered heroes had given him a wide berth in the gathering chamber, having teleported himself inside. Not that he noticed… he just stood there looking around and grunting at various heroes.

A good thing too since Leviathan had attacked and struck at the gathering of the Capes, heroes and villains operating under the banner of the Endbringer truce.

Only for Magnus to do something with his power and reflect the wave right back at Leviathan.

Then he had gone insane. Laughing and punching out the wall in between them and Leviathan before charging forward to meet it in battle. One of them was half the size of the other, but that didn't stop Magnus from engaging one of the most dangerous beings on the planet in a hand to hand brawl.

Every single time they traded blows at least one building was pulverised from the force of the impact. It becoming very clear to Piggot and the rest of the world that Leviathan had been holding back… by a significant margin. The fact that it took a strike that destroyed a 3 kilometer stretch of Brockton Bay as collateral to take off one of his arms told them that much. The fact that he dished out similar blows in return told them that he had been holding back by a terrifying margin.

The battle continued and it became frighteningly apparent that if they were going to keep this up, the entire city would be torn apart by the sheer force that both parties were bringing to muster. And neither side was apparently willing to hold back.

The way that Magnus' spells or magic or Warp powers, tended to be slightly on the… destructive side did not help. Each one of them destroying an entire city block at the very least if they missed. At the same time, Leviathan was using increasingly powerful attacks of its own, creating water and attempting to slam the Primarch under the weight of an artificial tsunami. Sweeping rubble up in a whirlpool of water, metal, and masonry, like an industrial watercutter, but the size of a city.

Both sides looked to be trading the advantage, one of them taking a limb or dealing a blow that shattered the ground around them. The aquifer underneath the city was swirling from Leviathan's efforts and as the fight dragged on it would cause the city to sink into the ocean. Not that it mattered considering the very real fact that she likely would not have a city at the end of this. Most of the docks had been smashed the Princess' Guard having apparently evacuated underneath the surface long ago, the residential areas, the business district aaaand...

The Mayor's house was just crushed by a falling Leviathan.

Piggot watched it all with a numb sense of fatalism… she had initially been angry, then sad, now she accepted that even if the Primarch defeated Leviathan, her city was already gone. Everything she had worked for… gone. Trying to hold the balance, trying to ensure as many people could be saved as possible… trying to do what was right. All of it down the drain… or the aquifer in a few minutes that is.

The one bright side to all of this being that the civilians had been teleported out along with all of the Capes, Magnus had wanted this to be a fight between him and Leviathan without any kind of interference apparently. Reinforced by the fact that Glory Girl had flown over to try and assist by striking Leviathan from the side, a surprise attack. The teleportation coordinates being close enough for her to fly over, capable of barreling into the Endbringer without ever asking if she should.

Magnus had retaliated and smashed Glory Girl with a backhand into what was left of Med-Hall. The strike being so powerful that even with Alexandria trying to slow it down, she still went through 4 buildings in quick succession. Punching her way through them one at a time, tearing through the concrete, the metal rebar, the windows, the furniture, all of it.

The girl had survived, maybe she would learn a lesson regarding understanding social cues or something like that. Piggot had never been the cheerleader type so she didn't understand the motivations of such a… peppy girl. The Capes she dealt with were usually more… damaged.

Still, Panacea had healed her up and she was now bitterly complaining but she was alive.

As for Magnus he had allowed Leviathan a free hit before getting back into it, a strange pride that the both of them had for one another… as they demolished a city.

Alexandria had heard the reports of the structural integrity of the city's foundation and was trying to intervene. The key word being trying as she watched Leviathan swipe her out of the sky with a whip of water that must have been hundreds of meters long, then Magnus cast some magic that apparently made her lose control of her limbs…

Piggot sighed and prepared to make the call for the evacuation of the city. It would slide into the ocean at this rate, the entire city was doomed.

Or at least she had thought so.

"Director Piggot. We have never been introduced… but I am told that you know of me. Maxine speaks highly of you." Came, the voice from behind her. A voice that she was intimately familiar with.

Her long and repeated rewarded of the last moment's of the Ellisburg battle, the vindication she had felt watching it all crumble away, the destruction of Nilbog's little kingdom, his being borne away by the portal, hearing her voice over and over.

It was the Princess.

"Good afternoon Princess. It is good to see you. I'm sorry it's a bit sudden but I must head off, I need to give the evacuation order, the city is about to slide into the ocean." Piggot said, not wanting to seem rude… but she really did need to begin leaving since there wouldn't be a Brockton soon. As she was turning to leave, the Princess interrupted her again.

"Mother always said that if there was a boy in the house, she would know. I never really understood what she meant… until now I suppose." The Princess walked up until she could see the reports on the screen that Piggot was looking at previously.

She let out a sigh, the kind that said the weight of the world was on her shoulders, Piggot would know, she did the same every day... twice a day since the Princess and her Guardsmen had set up inside of her city.

"Well, it is my house, I suppose it is my duty to clean up after family has been through." She finished sounding more amused than anything else.

"At least he had the foresight to transport all the people away. I would rather not have more innocents die on my watch." She said, her voice a little sadder, the sound of water dropping coming from behind Piggot. As for her… she was not willing to look around, the possibility that she might offend the Primarch being far too high and she wasn't insane enough to do that, not with proof of what a Primarch could do when they wanted a fight right in front of her.

Speaking of wanting a fight, it looked like Magnus had started to just brawl with Leviathan, trading blow for blow and laughing while he did it.

"Brockton Bay is my home Director Piggot, you do not need to worry about the city's future, I will be here to make sure that it never falls. Not while I am alive." Said the Princess, patting Piggot on the shoulder before the weight of her hand abruptly vanished. Had she teleported out? That was certainly a flashy way of doing things.

Reminded her of the Capes...

Then again she was a Primarch, they were all flashy if the brother and sister pair were any indication. And he was meant to be the quiet one… she did not want one of the more "wild" ones to come visiting. At least not until she retired, they could be someone else's problem.

Piggot was about to call in the evacuation, the tent she was in was already outside of the zone, having been dumped here by Magnus in the first place, when she saw the Princess on the screen above the fight regarding Leviathan and Magnus, as if she was unconcerned with what was going on underneath her.

Then the word that etched itself into Piggot's mind was spoken again, the word that changed the world.

GROW

And there was nothing.

There was no plants spiralling out of the ground, there was no sudden eruption of green and grey and brown and whatever colour she chose for plants this time. No… there was none of that.

Piggot wondered briefly if her powers had malfunctioned when shouts came in.

"The Aquifer has stabilized! The city is stabilizing!" The technicians were shouting, excitement in their voices. Piggot for her part only stared at the screen.

The second screen that was showing the state of the city in bright colours now had the graphic of a plant underneath the city… who had the time to program that in? Regardless, its roots were spreading throughout the city, anchoring everything, growing in strength, growing in power.

The entire city was not supported on an enormous plant.

Yet again the Primarch was doing something patently absurd.

Piggot only shook her head, it looked like maybe… just maybe the future was going to be more insane than she had ever thought possible.

And she was not OK with that. No, she was going to be looking into a possible transfer as soon as possible because this was fucking insane and there were not two of the fucking things in her fucking city and goddamnit she was already having enough trouble as it was.

Just… fucking. Fuuuuck.

Piggot took a deep breath because this wasn't going to be getting her anywhere. That is until a hand landed on her shoulder, a manicured hand, a hand that was etched also into her memory but for a very different reason.

It was the hand of Maxine, as in "shoot this man in the arm because he was disrespecting the Princess" Maxine. They had spoken every few days or so, gossip mostly, a way to keep contact with the woman without trying to make it seem like she was monitoring her.

Not in person, never in person until now… the Princess has probably brought her.

"It's beautiful... isn't it? Seeing the Princess as she should be? Commanding. Beautiful. Strong. She has... a presence about her does she not? I… I shouldn't be proud of it, I had very little to do with it, but… but I am Emily. Does that surprise you?" Piggot suppressed a shudder, this was a little too… dangerous for her liking, for both her physical and mental health she was sure.

She was about to answer when Maxine curled the arm around her shoulder and brought her closer.

"Do not be afraid Emily, the Princess will return this city to the way it was, to the way it should be. Rather, what I am here to talk about with you dear Emily, is the reconstruction plans for the city. I have a feeling that you would like to be part of the planning stages would you not?" Maxine asked.

Piggot could feel the grin on Maxine's face, she couldn't see it… but she knew it was there, just as she knew the sun rose in the morning and set when it was too damned late.

She knew because there was one on her own face.

George12

Dec 6, 2016

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MyriadCosteau Jan 8, 2024 Words: 8.1k 1 2Magnus grinned with a savage exultation.

This… this was what he had been missing. This was what he had been missing ever since he had willingly stayed in the Imperial Palace to assist his father. This was what he had given up.

Feeling it second hand through his sons, through Magnar just was not the same, feeling a second hand adrenaline boost was just not the same as feeling one where he was there in person. Feeling every single impact of his fist upon their bodies, feeling the crunch of shattered bone, of feeling the ground rubble beneath his feet, of feeling the shattered masonry with his fingertips, of smelling the smell of blood and sizzling meat, of hearing the impact of fist against flesh.

All of this and more.

Magnus took it in and revelled in it, losing himself in the sensation of brawling with a beast able to match him in speed and strength, his body clashing with it, putting might against might, of placing themselves at a standard that mortal men would never be able to reach no matter how hard they tried.

For they were beyond mortal men. One was a weapon of war, and the other a Primarch, beings who might as well be Gods in the face of the Mortal Man.

For Magnus, this was the moment when he felt the most alive, the moment when he became Magnus the Red and not Magnus the Nurse.

As the Beast swung at him, Magnus smashed his left forearm into the wide arc of its right arm. His own right arm preparing a strike of his own. An Engram behind his elbow to allow for it to slam into the target with a momentum that was multiplied by a fist that was to be raised to the tenth power (X.X.X…), his fist having a fortification Engram that gave it a temporary millisecond of increased resilience. Any more and it would be a useless waste of power.

Grinning he sent his fist forward, as hard as he could, straight at the chest of the Beast as it stood there looking on at him stupidly.

Magnus cared not, this would be awesome. The last time he had done something similar was when he had punched out an Emperor Class Titan, he remembered it as if it were yesterday because only an idiot would forget the day that they punched and destroyed an Emperor Class Titan with a single strike right on the noggin.

As his fist touched the center of the Beast, he grinned, oh yes.

Feel it.

Feel it now.

The might of the momentum Engram combined with his the invulnerability on his fist served one very important purpose, it gave his punch enough power to do what was about to happen next.

Magnus grinned at the stupid lopsided head that was Leviathan, the beast no doubt unprepared for what was about to happen to it.

The force of the punch was enough to blow a hole through the chest of the beast, not even sending it flying, the impact being so sharp that it simply had a large part of its chest missing, revealing it for what it was, a construct. The core of the chest looking exactly the same as that of the outer edges.

But for Magnus, he wasn't paying attention, he had forgotten exactly what had happened the literal second after he had punched the Emperor Class Titan.

The force was enough to shatter his arm, pulverising the entire length of it, excluding his fist as the power travelled from his elbow to the hand, the entire arm simply exploding from the force applied to it. Every single one of his cells ruptured, the force enough to simply cause them all to burst, his muscles ceased to exist as threads and reverted back to blood. He had forgotten to apply the strengthening Engram to his entire arm instead of his fist, the same as last time too.

Dammit.

When his nerves caught up to it, he was going to regret this.

Thankfully the rational part of his brain was paying enough attention to place a momentum cancelling Engram behind his right shoulder, he wouldn't be spinning uncontrollably and ripping off his left arm like he had last time as he dug his body into the ground… after being flung face first into the Palace of Terra and frakking Sanguinius had laughed at him. At least he killed a Titan the bird fucker.

As the shockwave simply caused his arm to turn into a fine mist, it travelled up his upper arm, tearing apart the flesh, shattering the bone, grinding it to a powder, so fast that his nerves had not the time to warm him. The entire arm simply vanishing under the power of the blow.

Then it reached his body.

The shoulder socket was forcibly broken as the arm itself was ripped from him and flung far to the rear, or at least what was left of it. His ribs, his collarbone, his internal organs, all of them being pulverized by the force of the blow, his entire body feeling the effects as his lungs simply ceased to exist. Every single bone on the right side of his chest, his hip, all of them destroyed, his flesh perforated with shrapnel, tearing it apart as if someone had detonated a frag grenade inside of him.

The ground underneath him buckled and the buildings simply exploded outwards as the force of the blow made itself known. As the mist that was his blood and bone exploded outward, it caved in structures, destroyed buildings and collapsed the very earth itself.

It happened in an instant and Magnus quickly applied the healing Engrams to himself, hastening them in exchange for pain, it wouldn't do to be without his right half in the middle of a fight, his feet were already pushing him back to gain some ground. Mind abuzz with the need for new strategies, new Engrams.

He felt so alive.

Even if it did hurt like a bitch, the nerves had finally caught up and were now screaming at him, the emergency klaxons ringing at full volume.

Magnus only grinned harder, this wasn't the worst he had ever experienced and he was going to be damned if it was going to be the last time he experienced something like this .

"For the Emperor!" He roared, the rational part of his mind saying this would be a good idea, as the regrown stump of his right arm was forming into digits and muscles, left side being untouched, enough for a follow up.

Crouching down and digging his toes in to avoid slipping on his blood, Magnus dashed to the left side as the Beast pretended to be dazed, and swung in his left fist, the arm being clad in the same Engrams as before, only there was a momentum canceller Engram on his arm this time. No need to go through that pain twice.

Slamming into the Beast's right shoulder, he cored it, taking out both arms, the entire thing now standing there missing some very large parts of its body. Namely the chest and both arms… and everything in between.

Magnus roared again, this one a nameless shout as he booted the Beast further inland.

He was going to be enjoying this.

It had to end sometime… but definitely not for a while yet.

Aaaaand he had forgotten to apply the momentum canceller to his shoulders. The feeling of an arm just not existing anymore was not something he wanted to remember. The way it just dropped off his body because that force had to go somewhere.

Dammit Magnus, this was why we stopped using this Engram.

Magnus felt refreshed.

Sure he had to regrow missing legs, arms, stomachs, chests, heads, but at the end of it all, he was right back where he started and he was having the time of his life.

The Beast had been the same, sure it lost most of its body at several points, but it wasn't going to be dying. Rather it just regrow the missing body parts with the amount of mass inside of it. Others might have considered it cheating but Magnus just really wanted to punch something, and having something just come back ready for a second punch without any need for downtime. It was amazing.

Magnus had not had this much fun in years, but like all good things, it had to come to an end.

He hadn't forgotten what he had originally planned with this, after all, he needed to tweak the constructs slightly, a way to ensure that they didn't destroy the world before his sister had matured enough to deal with them on her own. A way to ensure that they would be holding off… that they would not be trying to… target areas of hope and despair, crushing the highs and plunging the lows.

How… despicable. It was certainly not the most benevolent of means to be doing this, he had to ask just what had prompted this to happen in the first place. Just what was it that was going on here?

He had not noticed that the first time he had given it a cursory glance, but with an Engram holding it in the air and negating its powers Magnus certainly had the free time and effort that he needed to examine the Beast, gazing deep into the Engrams that governed its thoughts. A program that was rather simple when it came down to it, yet was also rather complex.

It ran like a tool of the Mechanicus, a golem of sorts, very similar in fact to the Legio Cybernetica's robots. A holding firmware programming that had them do idle functions like tracking the general status of the population of the worlds that they were deployed to.

A wetware slate was added when they were bound to whatever it was the link was connected to. He wasn't sure, the link entering the not-warp-Warp, something he would need to run experiments on and ascertain just exactly what was going on. He couldn't allow such a strange system to work like the way it was, not when his sister was being affected by it.

As the Beast hung in the air, Magnus flapped his wings slightly as he flew around it, more for visual effect than anything else. Mis mind quickly unwrapping everything inside of it.

Thankfully it did not need a physical dataslate to update like that of the Kastelan Robots that the Mechanicus used, rather it was an engrammatic one. One that he could tinker with if he so wished. And he very much did wish to.

Experiments on unknown Beasts that possessed nascent souls? This was the dream of a researcher, to be able to do whatever it was they wanted and the beast simply regenerating. He would need to update his tools… but this was everything he could ever want in a research sample. A whole sample, a living sample, a helpless sample.

As he pondered just how he could take this to his laboratory underneath Terra, Magnus weaved a further Engram, this one being more… involved than his other ones. He would need to make sure that its link to the whatever it was, was kept intact, while also making sure that the link that its core needed to produce more matter was kept intact as well.

He nodded. The Beast was wrapped up and he would be having a great deal of fun with it he was sure.

Yes.

"Magnus, care to explain yourself?" Came, the question… from the mouth of his younger sister… that sounded rather annoyed. He wondered why that was, did something happen?

"What is wrong sister? I have secured the Beast, and I will be taking it with me for further study." He said, looking at her rather confused.

"And the city?"

"It is still intact, you can rebuild it." He replied, it was not as if he turned it into slag or anything. It was still there, wasn't it?

"You destroyed everything!" She shouted, sounding rather accusatory. It was not his fault!? The Beast did half of it.

"You can rebuild it. It was ugly anyway." He said, sounding self righteous. Who cared when the city looked as bad as that one.

"I… Ugh." She let out a breath and Magnus felt like complaining. It wasn't like it was a big city. It was like… the size of an Imperial town! A few Regiments and it would be patched up in a few days.

"Ok. What are you going to be doing with Leviathan?" She asked him, walking over to him and looking at it, her head angled upwards.

"Leviathan? Is that truly its name? But it is so… puny. Are you sure this is a Leviathan? Because it is distinctly not a Leviathan. Remind me one day to take you to Fenris and show you the Kraken, that is a Leviathan. This… this is a little tadpole."

"Aaaaand… what are you going to do with it?"

"Experiments sister. It is a weapon, a tool, and it has a soul. It is very interesting don't you think? Further study is warranted, dear sister! I will need to find somewhere that I can study this in peace, I had thought the Imperial Palace upon Terra but that would bring it close to Father which is a bad idea.

"Perhaps I shall store it beneath your base, it will be not difficult at all to excavate a large enough facility. Yes. This is a good plan. No no. I should practice sustainable fishing procedures, I wish to appear as one with the populace do I not?" Magnus murmured, his mind on the papers he had read about the depletion of the ocean's stock of fish. Turning and teleporting himself and the Beast over the Base, an Engram forming already. The Beast would be stuck with a tracker for later retrieval and then flung out to sea while Magnus built his… laboratory… underneath.

Yes. He would throw the beast back into the water for the people of the world to see that he was a benevolent being, totally not a Daemon Primarch before secretly retrieving it or perhaps one of its ilk that wouldn't be missed.

He had experiments to carry out!

This was certainly a very enjoyable outing, he should do more of these.

George12

Dec 6, 2016

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Threadmarks 044 Brockton Rebuild

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George12

OAMU

Dec 7, 2016

#402

In his quest for an… equal opponent, the city of Brockton Bay had been effectively destroyed in its entirety.

Not destroyed as in half the city was rubble, or two thirds of the city was rubble, but a very literal 95% of the city was rubble. Magnus had at one point grabbed Leviathan's tail and used it as a grip as he flew into the air and used it to smash Leviathan into the ground (the buildings were collateral), entire skyscrapers gone in a single blow.

Eventually, Leviathan had displayed some lizard-like similarities and cut off its own tail to prevent it being used as a weapon again, not even growing another one, showing fear perhaps. It was wishful thinking, but it was still a hope that many shared, that the Endbringers could feel human emotions, as ridiculous as that sounded.

Regardless, Magnus and Leviathan had destroyed the city and in the aftermath, the Princess' Guard were very quick to react and move in. Whether or not this was planned was something to consider, but the way that convoys of Chimeras moved out to the mass of people that had been deposited outside of the city itself in the vast grass/forest area that was outside of the city had certainly been organized.

Dozens of them deploying the infamous Kriegers, only these ones instead of rounding up the population and shooting them, had instead decided to begin building a fence, for one thing, a very thick and solid looking fence that looked like it could stand up to a car ramming straight into it. The second was a series of habitation tents, like the ones that FEMA used for displaced persons following an Endbringer attack, only these ones were grey… and had no windows.

And they were in neat orderly rows, and were those watchtowers? At this point, the population was feeling just the slightest bit afraid. Something that was not helped by the fact that there were Kriegers doing all of this.

They were setting them up in clear view of the population in what was also a very clear indication of what they expected people to do with them. Only these were the Death Korps of Krieg… the very name of the men who were putting up the tents and the now very suspicious looking fence had them all on edge.

And to reiterate, a fence with watchtowers and men with lasguns in them.

What exactly was the general idea that they were going for here? It wasn't everyday that someone decided it would be a good thing to build a closed camp, let alone soldiers from an Empire that committed crimes on the scale of the holocaust on a regular basis.

It wasn't until the sign had been hammered into the ground outside of the fence that they had let out a breath of relief.

REFUGEE CAMP SECTION A1

It read as if it were just a very regular thing, just something these Kriegers did every now and again for the sake of it. Coming with the correct signs was just forward thinking.

And so it was that the Kriegers simply pointed to people who would then walk forward before being directed to another Krieger would give them a pamphlet that served as a map of the planned camp and walked to their tent.

First, it was one, then it was two, then five, then twenty and then a hundred. The numbers just increasing at a ridiculous rate as more and more Kriegers arrived and demonstrated an ability to quite literally call things out of thin air. A small gold particle effect and the item would appear in their hands… like magic.

Requisitioning they would find out later, unlimited ammunition… and Krieger rations.

Tent after tent, massive communal tents for meals, for hygiene, for recreation and more.

What would have taken a taskforce several days to accomplish took the Kriegers a single day, working non-stop for the entire period before returning to Princess Base on a departing Chimera.

The incoming Chimera's were depositing Death Korps of Krieg infantry who were now patrolling the camp, itself big enough to house the entire population of the city, a task that was frankly ridiculous given how many people there were. Nearly 300 thousand people. The Kriegers just shoving more and more people into the camp, building as needed and expanding upon their modular design.

It had reached the point that they needed to use Chimera's to transport the families since that was just how much space was being used, the distances becoming prohibitive. Still, they were alive and that was always a plus. Nobody had died either, simply taken out of the city and kept out of harm's way.

As for the government, they had seen the camp and decided it would be best to simply cooperate, it would end with less bloodshed and less people exploding from anger, anger of the Kriegers that is. A few in the camps had already discovered this, a warning shot in the ground in front of the belligerents, and if they didn't let up, then a bolt to the skull.

The E88 and the different ethnic groups of the city were all hugging each other and singing campfire songs, because if they didn't then the Kriegers might take it as a message that they needed to be more empathic in their responses. Employ more firepower… make a few examples.

FEMA was assisting in the operation of the camp, bringing in food and the like but relying mainly on the Krieger rations. The perfect blend of blandness and non-texture. Eating a Krieger ration meant that no soldier would ever be too focused on their food to pay attention to their duties.

All perfectly nutritious delivering an abundance of vitamins, minerals and other things needed to keep a regiment whose skin was the kind that never ever saw the sun healthy.

The civilians would have liked to complain, but to do so would be to complain to the Kriegers, most of them decided that it would be prudent not to, others… learnt shouting at Kriegers never worked. They just ignored you and went about their day. Trying to assault them was an automatic death sentence.

The National Guard were deploying units as fast as possible and they were assisting in patrolling the camp, often doing so alongside the Kriegers themselves to prevent any more incidents of… 'lessons' taking place, while also taking up the task of making sure only those who had the proper identification came in. There were already enough refugees, they didn't need everyone who wanted free housing from out of state to come down as well.

The Capes were all temporarily homeless. They all were using their civilian personas and living in the camp or elsewhere if they had the cash and the freedom to do so. As for the rest of them, pretending to be civilians was the best they had, what with the lack of crime due to the repression of the Kriegers.

Brockton Bay on the other hand, was experiencing a rebirth that even those with terrible eyesight could see (albeit badly). The city was being rebuilt from the ground up, literally… there wasn't anything left for them to build on.

The vast plant-thing that the Princess had summoned was working to plug the Aquifer under the city itself while providing a base for the most ambitious project to date on the planet. Or at least to the majority of the world, they had not yet seen the Citadel yet after all.

The entire city being remade, vast blocks rising up into the sky piece by piece. Each one being what was known apparently as a 'habitation block', each one like an enormous apartment that could fit thousands of families. Each was the size of a city block, each being constructed with a speed that put everything else mankind had built to shame.

In the center of it all rose a spire, a vast thing, one that stretched to the very sky itself, high into and then punching straight through the clouds. How they had managed to build it nobody knew, nobody was allowed into the city on pain of a very painful death at the hands of the Hydra, Gargoyle and Basilisk batteries stationed around the city. Flyers and the like all prohibited regardless of their affiliation.

It was being heralded by the Princess' Guard as the Spire of Unification (after a very carefully worded missive from the First Hand).

Just what that meant none of the general populace knew, but for those in the know… well, it was something that sounded like it came out of a comic book or a movie. It was a base for the Protectorate and the PRT, as well as a base for certain members of the Princess' Guard like the Psykers and the Astropaths.

The entire structure being made in such a way that even if an army invaded it, they would be fought off with the combined might of the heaviest weapons available to the Imperium of Man. Massive cannons, rocket batteries, laser batteries, walking Tarantula Turrets, all of it combined into what was effectively a giant middle finger to reality.

Inside of the base would be many dozens of grav-lifts, capable of allowing those at the top to jump straight down the tower without needing lifts, the lifts that were there all travelled beyond the speed of sound, the inertial dampeners keeping its occupants intact.

Vast communications arrays allowed for constant streams of data to compile in the enormous cogitator (computer) banks that made up the facility's central core. Each one the size of a building, each one containing the combined computing power of an entire country. Each was tended to a retinue of Engiseers whose lives were dedicated to maintaining just one of these gargantuan beasts, some were even plugged into them, permanently watching the data reams as they scrolled past.

Further, cooperation had been arranged between the Princess' Guard and the PRT, the PRT would be allowed to lease vehicles from the Princess' Guard, vehicles that had proven their worth for literal thousands of years. Valkyries, Sky Talons, Vultures, all on standby to assist the PRT across the continent as necessary, transporting the thousands of stationed troopers all over the continent in a matter of minutes.

Their ground vehicles were being offered as well, the less than lethal ones that is, Chimeras mounting massive water cannons, rubber bullet machine guns, shock batons and more. Each PRT trooper being able to call upon an arsenal that was beyond what they had been able to do so previously.

The Protectorate was not considering its use for themselves, of course, they needed to be in their own cities to do their own patrols. But… having a few of the heavy hitters be in the Spire, ready to lend their aid where necessary… well, that was an idea that was getting a few proponents. If they were able to fly around the continent, unbound by their legs, well there would be less problems.

How the negotiations had been accomplished for this nobody knew, but it would be unveiled alongside the completed city. The massive structures forming the city digging themselves deep into the ground, nestled amongst the massive plant that the Princess had seen fit to call upon. Its wooden aesthetic was present but there was a disturbing lack of greenery for one known for her nature powers.

The city was a haven of the greatest order. It would be a bastion of might and a glowing, glorious testament to the Princess.

Unlike the Madagascar Base, this one was designed to be as open and as inviting as possible. A place where anyone and everyone was welcome, so long as they followed the laws set down by the Princess. Very specific laws that governed their lives, but everything outside of them was up to their own enjoyment… if they so desired. The marujohanna was made legal in Brockton Bay, a strange event for some considering what they knew of the Imperium, but when told that so long as it was not a hallucinogen it was legal, it made so much more sense. Dreaming of Chaos was probably a sign that things were not going well for you.

As for Magnus, he had disappeared somewhere. After his… game with Leviathan, readily apparent when he had simply lifted it into the air and studied it despite Leviathan's struggles, he had thrown the Endbringer into the ocean and teleported elsewhere.

The fact that he had been powerful enough to do so shocked the entire world. The Primarchs were not for show, the Princess' mission to defeat said Endbringers was not a fools errand, rather it was seen as inevitable.

She was a Primarch and she held within her the power to do the very same, it was just a matter of waiting until she was old enough to do it herself.

The word hopebringer began to be whispered across the world. The Princess had arrived in dramatic fashion and brought with her a wellspring of hope.

Across the world people walked with a bounce in their steps, a solution had been found and it was only a matter of time before they were saved.

Last edited: Dec 8, 2016

George12

Dec 7, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 33 Krieger 6969

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George12

OAMU

Dec 7, 2016

#403

Death Korps of Krieg Engineer 6969 or the 48th Engineer Regiment was rather… confused. Very confused actually. But now she was happy. Very happy actually. Still a bit confused though.

The attack upon Princess Base had been defeated by the might of the Magnus when he had stepped in and beaten off the foul Xeno Leviathan as it was called. He had inspired the fear of the Emperor in it, so much so that it ran away in the face of what he was offering to do to it.

It was very interesting to watch, seeing a Primarch in action was a rare thing these days in the Imperium, what with the majority of the Pict-Vids that were available all having Angrone or a few other select Primarchs. In fact, there had been very little if any Pict-Vids of Magnar lately and none at all of Magnus. There had been rumours of his involvement with the War of the Ork Titans, but that had been over 7000 years ago and little to no record of that glorious battle remained.

To see him display his strength here was awe-inspiring, the might of a Primarch compared to that of an ordinary mortal truly was something else altogether. For 6969 she appreciated seeing these Pict-Vids, they were inspiring to a mortal like herself, a reminder to strive ever higher, to achieve greater and greater heights, to be more than they could be.

She had applied it to her daily life, the construction of the Kasrs proceeding as planned with the guidance of a few Cadian Engineers who had been requisitioned alongside more 42nd Engineers. Something 6969 was very happy about actually, there had been not enough hands to finish the work in time for what had been planned and finally having enough bodies to do it… well, that alleviated many of her concerns. What with the city needing to be finished in a certain time scale and only the most basic of groundwork having been accomplished if at all when the revised timetables rolled around.

She was a Krieger, but she wasn't a miracle worker.

The Kasr would take up the entirety of the Island, small pockets of rainforest to be left intact as per the Princess' edict, but the rest of it would be turned into extremely dense, highly defensible housing, with the Citadel in the center of it all. There was a 5 kilometer gap between the Citadel and the nearest of the Kasr hab block, in the event that things truly did become desperate, the grounds could be dropped to form a moat over a kilometer deep.

As for the Kasr itself… well, it was planned to be living space for the Astra Militarum regiments that were even now streaming their way into the Princess Base. The Princess having gained enough control over her powers to allow a small, but steady trickle of reinforcements to arrive. The first to have done so were the replacements for the Kriegers who had died to commence the campaign for this world.

Their sacrifice was not remembered. At least by 6969. She had been ordered to remember, and she had endeavoured to do so… but they were Kriegers, they were all dead men walking. Merely waiting for the time that they would join the Emperor by his side in death.

6969 herself was currently laying down plasteel rods into the ferrocrete beneath her feet, small rods, only the size of a thumb if that. Each of them going down half-way, her hands being more than enough to push them down. It was the same as requisitioning, she had long since stopped questioning exactly what was happening and was glad that she no longer had to drill the holes in by hand, that was never fun.

This would form the walls for a smaller hab block in which approximately 500 Guardsmen could rest, each granted a very generous room that was 5 meters long and 5 meters wide. Truly the Princess indulged them in luxury to give them just that much space. Usually, 6969 got no individual space at all, sharing it in a barracks, but she understood the need. Each room was also a potential pillbox, a potential bunker in case of an attack as well as a means to separate the troops so that a surprise attack would not be able to kill all of them off in a singular strike.

She had seen it happen far too many times in the past, the enemy striking out from above or below, a single hunter-killer missile destroying an entire platoon's combat strength. No, it was practical for them to live like this, the luxury was merely a byproduct.

These structures would form the majority of the Kasr, massive blocks wrought in Imperial Architecture that in actuality formed deadly killzones, detonation zones and more. Should the enemy try to attack, they would find themselves in a twisting maze of structure, of road, of nothing but death. Attempting to break through would cause the attackers to spend months traversing what should have taken days as the roads funnelled them further and further into more and more killzones, each and every window housing a lasgun, each meter of road booby trapped, the artillery having pre-ranged all of it, even their own structures in the event of an invasion, ready to rain fiery death upon the enemies of the Imperium.

What was worse was that it was all designed in such a way that the attackers would become confused, become lost as they tried to navigate the mess of roads that were all made to do nothing but drive the unknowing mad.

An attack on the body and the mind. Attempting to break through the structures would only be possible with the most dedicated of siege engines, engines that would be increasingly vulnerable to the ambushes as they entered the towering structures that made up the Kasr, the underground tunnels all hosting dozens of Guardsmen ready to pop up and engage. The Siege Engine turning into a roadblock as its carcass burned with the warmth of ten thousand damned souls.

Even from the air the labyrinthine twists and turns, the illogical patterns, all of them served to do nothing but cause discombobulation and confusion. Even veteran cartographers would themselves be found attempting to trace their routes with fingers and mutters. Any grav-chuters that tried to enter would find themselves swiftly isolated and cut-off from any kind of reinforcement, every single rooftop hosting a dedicated artillery battery of some kind. Attempting to land behind the lines was nothing but a demand to die here and now, if it didn't work for Chaos Space Marines, it was not going to work here. They could try… and they would die. 6969 would actually be glad if they did, it would only prove her right.

In short, what 6969 was attempting to do was a very simple task when it came down to it. She was building the most impregnable and heavily fortified city in this galaxy, and if she had her way about it, in the Home Universe as well. Those puny Kasrs on Cadia would have nothing on her one, every single bit of ferrocrete being mixed with ceramite for added strength, the plasteel rods being laced with adamantium for that very same reason.

When she was done there was going to be adamantium plating on the exterior of the buildings, there was going to be gratuitous adamantium and ferrocrete reinforcing as far as the eye could see and more.

There was going to be nowhere in her design that was vulnerable and she challenged anyone to attempt to find it. Well not really her design, but the design of her regiment which meant that it might as well be hers since they didn't have individuality and the Regiment was their individuality… or their group identity.

6969 wasn't exactly too sure on the specific terminology, she had not after all been educated in such trivial matters as personal identity when she was needed on the front lines. What was the point about teaching a Krieger who they were as a person if they were going to die in a few months as it was?

She had shaken her head at the way some of the other Regiments had acted like it was weird for the Kriegers to be like they were, did they not understand that they were all going to die anyway? What was the point of wasting their education?

Still, there were things for her to do and she was going to do them well. Like for example, the fact that once the mould was in place, she was going to put the ferrocrete and ceramite mix into the little boxes she had just requisitioned to have them be the perfect size. Leaving them to set, she would move onto the next set of rooms and continue in this fashion until the entire bottom floor was done.

She had the help of a platoon of Kriegers who were all doing different rooms, if they kept up the pace, or rather when they kept up the pace, this particular set of rooms would be finished within the hour. After that it was a matter of leaving it to dry and off to the next building to do the same, building the entire Kasr one room, one floor at a time. It was efficient and it was the Krieger way.

6969 nodded at that, it was good being a Krieger, it was always good being a Krieger. She had a sense of purpose, she had a sense of what she was destined to be, and when she died in glorious combat, likely close ranged since her weapon was an automatic shotgun, she would join the Emperor by his side.

Yes, this was great.

6969 hummed to herself as she continued setting the blocks, joining in with the rest of the Kriegers.

The entire island was being converted, it was just a matter of time after this to accept the new inhabitants of the Madagascar Kasr. Personally, 6969 would have preferred if it was just called the Madagascar Base, but the Colonel had been adamant that it would be called the Madagascar Kasr. At least the Citadel was still the Madagascar Base, there had been no Cadian involvement in that. Just pure and true Krieger hands, moulding everything from the base, to the walls, to the sub-levels, to the higher levels, to the spire itself. Everything done by their hands.

It was the right way to do things, none of that foolish little Cadian pride. Do the best that they were capable of doing then die, no need to fight about naming things.

Still, once the Madagascar Kasr was done, then would begin the next stage of their deployment as defined by the First Hand, they would be doing something that was rather strange in 6969's opinion. They would be constructing housing, but it would not be for the Regiments, nor would it be for Imperial Citizens, but rather it would be for the rabble that was this world's poor and hungry. Why that was she did not know, she did not understand and she was not of a high enough level in the command structure to understand.

Nor was she interested, she was an Engineer, she could destroy things, anything else was merely extra. No, she would do her job, she would then return to her room and wait for her next assignment, sleeping in the time allotted. There would be no excess movement and waste for her, she was a Krieger and she would do her duty.

Even if that meant helping those who had not seen the Emperor's light.

Why they had not received the order to purge the weak was something she did not know, but orders were orders and they were to be accepted and cared for. As for who could speak the language, inquiries were being made by the Cadian Kasrkins, themselves being shipped over on Valkyries. If not then it was a matter of acquiring translator wet ware from the Engiseers.

Everything was on a strict time limit, they had to complete their objectives by the time that the Colonel had set, that being 3 months from now. The Kasr was a priority but it was not the only one, the campaign had to continue.

Why there wasn't any killing and the like in this campaign she didn't know… but she was a good Krieger and she did as she was ordered. If there was no killing then there would be no killing, unless they had weapons, in which case they would be killed. As was proper.

6969 really hoped that all of them came with weapons, those who rejected the light of the Emperor did not deserve mercy, they deserved death. Only the most complete and utter of deaths.

Yes.

They would die and their souls would burn in eternal damnation while 6969 joined the light of the Emperor.

George12

Dec 7, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 34 Fifine

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George12

OAMU

Dec 7, 2016

#404

Fifine's training had been completed. A month and a half was enough for her basic training, she would now be undergoing the next level of her training.

It was a practical training session where she would learn to interface with the citizens and the Imperial Guardsmen of the Imperium if she understood information correctly.

Which meant that translated to normal people speak, she would be going into Brockton Bay alongside that of the Kriegers who were all universally dull and rigid, and trying to mediate between them and the regular citizens of Brockton who were… normal.

The city was being redeveloped and rebuilt which was nice, the people were currently living in their temporary housing which was causing issues for them as the city was being rebuilt from the ground up. Sure they had housing, but in typical human fashion they probably wanted more, or they wanted to have this or that.

All the temporary housing was under the purview of the Death Korps of Krieg's Engineers who were constructing the settlements, the cities, the buildings, everything and anything that might be considered to be a vital part of the city. While they weren't the ones to patrol, they were too valuable to be used for something as mundane which left the patrols and the administration to the Kriegers, standard.

As for Fifine, she would be heading out on a regular patrol through the large refugee camp outside of the city. The camp was co-run by FEMA and the Kriegers, one of whom made sure that the people were being treated humanely and given everything that they might need to allow them to be considered people. The other to make sure that they acted like people.

A third of the patrol was made up of the recruits, the rest of them being the Kriegers, a good ratio since if things went badly, then the Kriegers could fight off the attack while Fifine cowered in a corner.

She was well aware of her shortcomings. She could shoot Servitors and Servo-Automata just fine, however when it came to matters like shooting actual people, she was not sure she could do that at all. Which might have been the reason for this actually… to help train her to deal with people and to shoot them if necessary.

Fifine thought that was particularly cruel of the instructors but they had their reasons. If she couldn't patrol properly, then she wouldn't be able to protect properly either. In either case, she was going to be useless.

Fifine had accepted this fact and resolved to train herself harder as had the rest of her provisional squad. If they were not worthy, then they wouldn't be deployed. If they weren't deployed then they would effectively be useless, unable to even be given jobs like loading ammunition onto crates.

Another mouth to feed.

She refused to allow that to be what she turned out to be. There was going to be no giving up, she would make this work if she had to kill someone. Which might be what she needed to do…

As it was they got inside of the Chimera that was transporting them out to the camp. It was big enough to allow for 300,000 people. Instead of leaving, they had decided to stay when they had heard that the Princess' Guard would be rebuilding their city, many no doubt wanted to live in the city of the Princess and be protected from the Endbringers and even the gangs.

The Doctors, or Medicae as they called them had been already assigned to the refugee camp and were making daily rounds to ensure that there wasn't any outbreaks of disease or infections or anything of the like. They could not allow for the camp to become a breeding ground of potential death.

Humans did tend to breed disease when left alone for extended periods of time.

The Chimera ride was short and thankfully the Kriegers didn't say anything. Sometimes they were given orders to fraternise but they were never good at it, she had heard the stories and was mentally prepared for it to happen here. The painfully awkward way they would try to initiate conversations doing more to kill a conversation than Fifine had ever seen before. The 'casual conversations' that they had inside of Princess Base was enough ground to base her opinion on those.

They generally tried a few times before lapsing, no doubt filling some kind of mental checkbox as they did so. Unfortunately, they weren't able to talk amongst themselves either, having a row of silent Kriegers opposite you tended to put a damper on the conversation.

Fifine disembarked and took in the sight of the Refugee camp. She had seen it in the briefing but seeing it in real life was something else. Just an enormous square filled with tents. Rows upon rows of tents. Not the little triangle ones either, but these looked like actual houses, each one a big rectangle, enough for a family. There were communal showers, communal toilets, canteens, water storage, and everything else that a person would need if they wanted to stay alive.

The patrol would be taking them along route C, which meant zig-zagging through the residential areas, making sure everyone had the requisite supplies, talking with a few people to give the impression that they were… nice… and to solicit an opinion as to what needed to be done to improve their life experience outside of 'not be here'.

Fifine as the interpreter/mediator would be leading the patrol from the front, her stubber held loosely to her front and pointing down at the ground. A portion Kriegers would follow directly behind, the rest of the provisional squad and the rest of the Kriegers. A sandwich almost.

Fifine checked her kit for the last time before walking into the camp, her presence inside of a Chimera denying her need for an ID check by the guards at the front, both of them looking to be National Guard… or Army… or Marines… Fifine never knew which was which, they all looked the same.

The fact that she had Kriegers behind her likely made the process just a little quicker than it would have been otherwise. Trying to stop a Krieger from following their orders tended to fall on the other side of the insanity line.

You could do it… but it was very much not recommended unless you were suicidal or were very high up in their chain of command.

As Fifine strode into the camp, she could feel a difference in the air. It was not the same as when she had been homeless, but it was similar. There was a…. Lack of hopelessness. Yes, she had been hopeless, but these people… they had hope.

How strange.

Fifine marched forward, time to begin her patrol.

"This woman needs medical attention. Her supplies are running low and she cannot move." Said a woman, a human woman.

Fifine felt the exhaustion fill her, she had been doing this for 3 hours now and the sheer amount of problems and suffering that came with a camp like this… well, it beggared belief. So much suffering, so much pain, and she was merely the little piece of tape that tried to stem the bleeding.

There was so little that she could do, yet they expected her to be able to do everything. She could not.

It.

It was impossible.

Fifine felt tears rise up and for once she was glad for the gas mask that she wore as part of the Auxillia, surplus Krieger gear but with a white stripe down the center to indicate what she was. A whiteshield they had called her.

"What is her tent number?" Fifine asked.

"A1-345-525," The woman replied, probably a relative after checking a scrap of paper in her hands...

"Don't move her, there will be a Medicae along for her shortly. If things go badly, she might be moved to the medical section." Fifine said, there was little that she could do really. Turning to the Vox-Caster Krieger she motioned him over. A dour and silent man, like the rest of the Kriegers really, he was also the one in charge of the radio that she was going to use to contact HQ with. Strangely they were ok with taking orders from her in this situation.

There were roaming Medicae, but also those who were on standby either in Valkyries if the situation was an emergency, or Chimera's for the more casual ones. One hospice section for 9 residential sections was the norm for a camp like this. Or so Fifine had been told.

"Patrol 09, Medicae Section 89. Need Non-Urgent Medicae to tent A1-345-525 for possible casualty listing. Over." Fifine said into the phone that was connected to the block on the Krieger' back.

"Understood Patrol 09. Dispatching. Out." Came the voice, vaguely robotic, likely a Servo-Automata. A servitor would only scare the population, it had certainly scared her once or twice… or ten times.

Fifine nodded to the woman who was thanking her before putting the barrel of the stubber back into her left hand, the patrol would go on. Another 3 hours of this and they would be on the other side of the camp to return to base.

Every single tent would have a patrol come past every hour, a way to make sure that there was a presence of the Princess' Guard (and Auxillia) so that there wouldn't be anything stupid going on, like trying to start a little gang war, as well as to make sure the people were kept as fed and healthy as possible. If there was anything wrong, like just now, Fifine would call it in for assistance before moving on.

The Kriegers had said nothing during the entire patrol, but that wasn't their job really. They were the muscle, a few refugees had become overly hysterical… and they were shut down by the Kriegers very quickly. Just stepping forward and creating a very immovable wall of lasgun and flesh, staring with their dead eyes at whatever it was that was offending her.

From the whispers, the Kriegers were seen as some kind of boogeymen. Understandable given that they had shot several gang members who were fighting over accommodation. Or maybe they hadn't, the camp was huge and with rumours like that, they quickly spread and took on a life of their own.

She wasn't sure if they had been shot, there were warning shots, or if there hadn't been any shots at all and someone just made it up. Either way, it worked and the people were suitably terrified of the Kriegers, as they should be. They were the fucking Kriegers.

She had seen them in action with their drills, even trained alongside them, and they were relentless. Just… always… going. Never a time to relax, even their sleep was regimented.

She was glad that the Auxillia weren't being trained to Krieger levels, that was just something that would very simply be considered insane. Not unless they wanted half the provisionals to die that is.

Fifine shook her head and kept going, making sure to keep an eye out for those that might want to talk to her. It had only been a few days but the population had learnt to direct their questions to the lead patrol members, the ones that had the white stripes.

As for those breaking the rules, that was on the Kriegers to watch out for. Anyone stupid enough to break the rules in front of a Krieger, very typically tended to be those that were… well… very stupid. There was a level of stupidity and they breached the lowest depths of it.

They would be rounded up and if they weren't there for the Chimera to pick up at a later date, then their entire tent would be rounded up. Brutal but efficient. If you were stupid, you probably still cared about those who were close to you. Taking them all in the case of you being stupid was an effective deterrent, it wasn't like they were terrorists.

Just stupid.

Very stupid.

As for Fifine, she spotted another man that was waving her over. She gave a mental sigh and held up her left hand, bunched together in a fist. She would approach from the side and make sure the patrol had clear line of sight, if he did anything suspicious, they would be able to take him down in an instant. It hadn't needed to happen so far… but she had heard the rumours.

"Please I need…" and so it went.

Time for Fifine to earn her space.

Last edited: Dec 13, 2016

George12

Dec 7, 2016

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Threadmarks 045 Brockton Rebuild

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George12

OAMU

Dec 8, 2016

#407

The Princess had spoken, or rather the world had spoken for her.

She was in the process of rebuilding Brockton Bay into a city worthy of her station, that of being a Primarch. The city would be a shining beacon as to what was possible for the world if they joined her.

Winning the hearts and the minds of the people, even if their leaders were unwilling.

In short, the Princess was subverting the world to her side, and so long as she continued her string of victories, showed that she was capable of backing up her claims, then there would be those willing to join her side.

Even now the people of Continental America were flocking to her in numbers that boggled the imagination. Thousands, tens of thousands of people, they who were hopeless, they who had nothing, were now being given the chance to have everything.

They would not be obscenely wealthy, nor would they be kings, but rather they would have a purpose in life the Auxillia had promised, and should they not join that esteemed organisation, they would still be fully capable of keeping the city running as part of the citizenry. Join and they would be making the world safe, they would be ensuring that the world kept running and if they were dedicated enough, they might even be inducted into the Adeptus Mechanicus as an initiate, ready to learn the secrets of the Omnissiah. There were many paths that were open to them, and in time more doors would unlock, doors to the wider galaxy.

Their children might even be given the chance to become Space Marines.

Opportunity.

The Princess offered opportunity to any and all who stood underneath her banner.

Opportunity for all who joined regardless of their occupations, regardless of their personal beliefs, regardless of station in life. So long as they followed the rules, then they would be given access to the kingdom that was the Princess'.

Inside of this kingdom was medical technology and techniques never before seen in the hands of the Orders Hospitaller and the Medicae, themselves willing to teach those that joined. Many doctors already clamouring to be part of the new Brockton Bay Medical Center. The entire facility being one that was enormous in a very basic sense of the word. It was the size of a Hab Block, the entire structure capable of holding several hundred thousand patients, requiring half that in personnel, the Servo-Automata would make up the rest.

Inside they would be treated of any and all possible diseases, their bodies made whole, their lives saved. The Princess did not ask for payment, all of it was free, all of it being considered the natural right of those who lived in Brockton Bay. Even now there were many across the globe that were attempting to gain access to the facilities, to either steal its secrets or to find treatment for medical problems that they had long given up hope upon.

Further was the Manufactorums that were being constructed, small ones of course. These would not be the massive world ending Manufactorums of the Hive Worlds and the Forge Worlds, but rather ones that allowed for the needs of a planet to be fulfilled as opposed to the needs of the Imperium. They were staffed by the workers of the city, all willing and able. Each and every one of them playing their role as a tiny cog in the machine.

They were not paid in cash, for cash had no real meaning in Brockton Bay. Not after what the Princess had done.

Now one was given logistical stamps in which they could fulfil their needs for food, clothing and the like. Granted food was rather… limited at the moment, the ration packs of the various Regiments of the Imperium, but it was improving and at a rapid pace. Hydroponics of gardens with delicacies from across the Imperium… if one counted recaff as a delicacy.

If one wanted luxuries, then they would be given a certain amount of luxury stamps a month, stamps that allowed for them to procure items of a certain worth, certain articles of clothing, certain liberties and the like.

Trade was allowed.

Fair trade.

Those that tried to abuse the system and take stamps off others… well, they would be facing the justice of the Arbiters that had been summoned. Arbiters that were the mouths of the Emperor, each one charged with defending the Law, of punishing the violations of punitive sections of the Law Code, of taking those into custody that violated the civil sections of the Law Code.

Each and every one of them was a paragon of justice. Very literally for every single time they passed a judgement or observed a law, then the Emperor would empower them and be empowered through them. The God Emperor was the God of Justice and Order after all. Those who filled out their paperwork correctly, those who ensured that everything was up to regulatory standard, those who obeyed the law, all of them were worshipping the Emperor of Mankind.

For the Arbiters, they were quite literally bound to the Emperor through their souls, much the same as that of the Caretakers and their Beacons. It guaranteed them a path to the Emperor directly should they die, a path that was unimpeded by any arcane ritual or dark pact, they were destined to stand beside their Emperor as was their due for their service in His name. However, it was not a free ride, for they who served as the administrators of justice and the arbitrators of the Law, they were bound by the very same laws even more tightly than an Imperial Citizen. Should they interpret a Law Code wrongly, then their souls would feel the brunt of it, excruciating pain that would never be grown used to, never decrease in intensity. Should they knowingly execute a Law Code wrongly, then their very souls would be destroyed. Ignoring a crime or a situation where their expertise was required was punishable by the same.

Naturally, this meant that there would be no personal attachments amongst the Arbiters, they could not afford the clouding of their sight. Nor could they afford to be a joyous people, a people given to levity for their very souls were in danger should they fail. There was no second chances and they who had been bound to the Emperor, they who were given the chance of salvation at the constant risk of eternal damnation. Each and every Arbiter was respected and in some cases… worshipped.

The Ecclesiarchy had been summoned rumour had it after the Princess had been educated on what they were. Each and every one of them was not the same as had been expected, rather they were… far more bookish than would be expected otherwise. For the Emperor was the God of Justice and Order, which meant that each of his priests and priestesses must be the same, never a hair out of place, every single action in accordance with the regulations of their Order.

Every single one of them resembling a patient with OCD, every single part of their lives was in worship to the Emperor, every time they filed paperwork, every time that they made sure their clothes were of regulation dress… it was a prayer to the Emperor. They served to make up the vast majority of the Emperor's section chiefs in the administrative sections of the Imperium. Each and every one of them ensuring that the Imperium ran smoothly and without waste.

Granted, they were given to zealotry as well, many a rebellion and calls of heresy had been shouted out by their number, that the Imperium was not as efficient as it could be, that it needed to be destroyed for maximum efficiency.

They were defeated of course, brutally. But the threat was always there. The Imperium kept a close eye of their Ecclesiarchy for as useful as they were, they were a double edged sword in the worst of times.

Regardless, they were still invaluable to the Imperium and would be treated as such. Even if their 'priestly' ranks did scream and shout at the top of their lungs for everyone to live properly and to dress properly, and those that failed to tie their ties in the correct manner should be burnt at the stake.

Chaos of course was an anathema to those of the Ecclesiarchy, the sheer… inefficiency and chaotic nature of it warring with their own, an ever present desire to wage war on any signs of Chaos that they saw being present in their thoughts, their words and their actions.

The Regiments were also being represented now, no longer were they just Kriegers, but now there were Catachans in ever larger numbers, the Cadian Shock Troops, the Harakoni Warhawks, the Valhallans and more. Each and every one of them having Guardsmen to assist with the construction and the defence of the city of Brockton Bay, each and every one of them ready to lay down their lives for the Princess.

No matter the cost.

On Mars, things were progressing as could be expected, the small shuttles that had been constructed were bringing in valuable materials for smelting, the temporary facilities already churning out Chimeras, the most basic vehicle available, while also manufacturing stubbers, lasguns and the like. All ready to be shipped to the Princess' Guard at a moment's notice.

Further, the structures underneath Mars itself were taking shape, the temporary foundries, the temporary facilities, slowly becoming permanent as the construction was completed. Massive caverns dug out and filled, the entire structure being one that would be able to in time resemble the glorious nature of the Mars of the home universe. This was a homage… and it also didn't have an insane Machine Spirit underneath, killing any who tried to enter the core of Mars. That was an important factor to consider as well.

What with the whole "don't die to your Machine Spirit" message they were talking about.

In time Mars would be able to ship forces, armies and more to Terra, the Skitarii were being brought over next they were told, the armies of Mars ready to deliver a blow for the Omnissiah.

There would be ready to deploy shortly, that is if those on Mars did not finish constructing their own Skitarii legions before them. Taking Replicae, splicing them with augments and preparing for them the programming to ensure their loyalty. Each and every one of them a killing machine for the Omnissiah.

As for Madagascar Base itself, it was completed, the Kasrs finished, the Citadel finished. What the Spire was for the PRT and the Protectorate, the Citadel was for the Princess' Guard. A bastion of their Princess, a beacon as to not the hope that was the Princess but her might. There was the beautiful architecture of the Spire of course, but the Citadel was filled from the very top to the very bottom with jutting emplacements, systems of death, weapons of utter destruction, each cannon firing a testament to the glory of the Emperor.

The two peaks of the world.

One that represented the Mercy of the Princess and her desire for unity and for peace.

The other represented her Might, her utter strength and ability to crush all who might resist.

The left and right hands of the Princess.

As for the refugee city outside on the African coast, it had been dubbed the Ivory City by the local residents, likely in reference to the manner in which it lit up with the morning sun.

It was taking in thousands of people a day, many of the new Guardsmen were being shipped over to the Madagascar Base before being sent on over to the Ivory Base, ready to keep the peace. They were using language decoders, gifted by the Adeptus Machanicus for their task, otherwise, it would have been impossible to make themselves known. Thankfully the languages were available on that they called the internet. Useful tool that, it had countless blueprints and schematics available if one knew where to look.

As for Bob, instigator of much angst, he was being hunted down by Magnus. A Magnus that was very much improved over that of the Magnus that Bob had known personally. This one was much more relentless and in fact, was becoming a massive pain.

He couldn't do anything anymore without alerting Magnus to the fact that he was in the area. Something that would prove disastrous since if he was found to not be a shard but another actual Emperor… well, things would go from amusing to very serious very quick.

And so Bob was left stewing away as he impotently glared at the life of the Princess… who was living a rather happier life actually.

What without his interference and Malcador… he was just laughing.

The bastard.

Last edited: Dec 8, 2016

George12

Dec 8, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 35 Krieger 6969

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George12

OAMU

Dec 8, 2016

#408

Africa was not exactly what 6969 thought it would be like.

It was worse.

6969 had built the civilian Kasrs as she had been ordered to do so. They were much smaller than the ones in the Madagascar Kasr, each room larger despite this. Terrible designs, something about it being inviting for the civilians. 6969 hated it but she did her duty, she was a Krieger and she followed orders.

Even if the orders were to build things that offended her on a fundamental level.

Where was the defensive worth of such a structure?

What was the strategic worth of all these useless mouths that she had to feed?

What was the point of trying to appeal to the civilian, they were nothing but burdens, targets that had to be dealt with when one was trying to conquer a city, collateral damage.

6969 was not happy but she was a Krieger and she did her job. As much as she despised her job.

The Kasr was being build, much faster now that they were using inferior materials for it. Watered down Ferrocrete because high command wished for the structures to be inefficient but also to make them weak enough that a single Lasgun bolt would be able to punch a hole in them. Each structure was a lesson in abject failure. Of a masterclass in how not to build and design structures.

If this had been what she had built as part of her graduation exam, she would have been shot for incompetence.

6969 was not happy.

The little city that they were building was big enough to house millions of people, every single structure being a lesson on inefficiency. The fact that each room despite having space for 6 human bodies housed only 2, each structure being enough for hundreds holding dozens at the most. Worse they were flat. Where was the towering Hab Blocks that blotted out the sky? Where were the massive narrow corridors of space between the buildings where wind would rush through like a Valkyrie on full throttle? Where were the defensive positions built to resemble public ornaments?

Where there should have been canteens there were private kitchens. What were they cooking? They would be getting rations from the Kriegers, they did not need cooking. Each and every one of them was flavourless and textureless as regulations demanded of them, the perfect rations. It was made worse by the fact that there were canteens for the civilians to eat at, double inefficiency. It was as if they were trying to have every Krieger die of shock when learning of just how badly this city was designed.

That didn't even count the showers. Every single structure had multiple shower heads spread through it, even little walls for 'privacy' or whatever the hell these civilians wanted. The water wastage would be astronomical, why could they not use a wet towel like the rest of them? Like the Kriegers? It was efficient and it was quick! And if not a wet towel and they wished to live extravagantly, then the soldier's best friend, the wet wipe!

They even had hot water! What was this travesty? The fuel… the munitions needed for that luxury would be enough to burn perhaps 100 heretics for a single shower. A travesty of the greatest scale. Then there were the communal showers because having showers for every room or 'apartment' as they were called was not enough. The civilians needed more because of course, they did. They demanded and the Kriegers fulfilled as were their orders.

6969 was not a happy Krieger, but she followed her orders because she was a good Krieger.

When the civilians did come, however… well, she was going to be hoping quite ferociously that they broke the laws so that she could execute them. How dare they force her to construct such ugly pieces of… daemon excrement.

Truly this was a low day for the 42nd Engineering Regiment. They would never live this down.

6969 stared at the children as they 'played' as it was known.

The first civilians had come as had been foretold by the First Hand, her wisdom despite her years befitting of her station. They had come and they begged for Mercy.

As per 6969's orders, she had not granted it to them.

Shooting civilians was forbidden by order of the Princess... unless they were hostile. And so 6969 refrained from granting the Emperor's Mercy to the civilians. Instead, she followed her orders and sent them to processing where they would be cleaned by some very… annoyed Kriegers, fed, clothed and then assigned housing. They were given the rules and told that those who broke them would be executed.

6969 had disappointingly executed exactly 0 people since she had started her duties. It was disappointing and she just wished one of these sorry excuses for Cultists would do something that would warrant a bullet to the skull.

The way they were all thin and emaciated, as if they were Slaaneshi Cultists that spent too long in the orgy and not enough time feeding themselves as regulation demanded they do. Did not they eat their 5 allotted ration bars a day? Were they some kind of Cultists?

What was worse was the way they thanked her, as if they were mocking her inability to end their suffering.

They were saying things like "thank you for saving my son," as if 6969 cared. The son was likely a Cultist and she wanted to shoot something.

Anything.

She glared. It was just too bad that behind her Gas Mask, nobody could see her glare. Very unfortunate.

She was unsure as to what to do next, what else could express her annoyance, her anger, her frustration at a lack of opportunities to martyr herself for the Emperor?

As she ignored yet another thank you, this one with tears in his eyes, (the weakness was astounding in these civilians, why did they thank her? They should be thanking the Emperor), 6969 pondered the question.

6969 was happy. This was what she had expected to happen and it was finally happening. Yes. This was what she had thought should have happened and it was finally happening.

Yes.

Yesssss.

6969 let a moan of happiness escape. She was finally allowed to do what she was born and trained to do.

Crush the enemies of the Emperor.

She chant-laughed with a fervour as the enemies of the Emperor strode forth to attack their position.

Well, not really strode forth because they were cowards, they scurried forward like bigger gretchins, weapons in one hand, the other scraping at the ground.

Did they not understand that this was protected by the Engineers of Krieg? By the 42nd Engineering Regiment? The Death Korps of Krieg itself?

Were they not capable of comprehending the sheer might that was being arrayed against them?

No. No, they did not.

6969 knelt down in her trench, keeping her head below the lip. The enemy was coming. A 'warlord' or something. Honestly, they sounded more like Ork Nobz than anything else. This one was a psyker too… not that it would matter in the face of the might of the Imperium.

Fool.

They were bringing these little vehicles that they called tanks, puny little things with long and thin cannons. Likely the same as their weapons, weak, failures.

She grinned widely.

Soon.

As the tanks came in closer, the turrets at the rear were being prepared, the mines, the emplacements, the tanks, the artillery… all of it ready.

They had offered an ultimatum. The Princess' Guard laughed. They declared war. Now they would die.

As it should be.

As the enemy forces closed in, looking like a ragged line of… puny humans than actual soldiers. Most of them didn't even have armour, just wearing what looked like rags and using little stubbers… stubbers. They wished to break through their lines using stubbers? They did not even have the numbers to even be considered part of a mob.

Pathetic.

6969 waited, her hands clutching the handle of the Heavy Bolter in her hands, to her right 6968 was ready to feed more ammunition in and direct her fire, the muzzle flash would be making it more difficult for her to get a good line of sight on the advancing targets.

"Engage! For the Emperor!" Came the shout through her vox-caster.

Not bothering to give an affirmative, they were the Death Korps of Krieg, if they received an order, they would carry out that order. They were not weak and foolish as the other Regiments that needed confirmations that their soldiers were carrying out their orders, doing what they were supposed to do.

With her loader helping her, 6969 hefted up the Heavy Bolter onto the tripod that had been set up ahead of time. Placing it on the pin that would allow it to articulate as needed, 6969 quickly stepped behind the Heavy Bolter and aimed down the sights, her chants and praises for the Emperor filling the air alongside that of the rest of the gun crew, assistant gunners and loaders standing by in case she was killed.

In case. These cultists likely would fail to even scratch her armour.

Thumbs depressing the triggers on both handles, 6969 grinned allowed the praises for the Emperor to fill the air, every report of the heavy gun, every time it shuddered as a Bolt rocketed through the air, every time the casing pinged on the ground as it ejected from the side.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

Every single shot, every single time, every single bolt. A praise for the Emperor.

6969 could not see what was happening, but she assumed that it was working, the loader was pointing out for her the targets that needed to be struck down, the Heavy Bolter moving in a slow arc as it ended heretic after heretic. No doubt the bolts were slamming into their bodies, detonating inside of their bodies, tearing them apart on a fundamental level. There would be nothing left of them that was recognisable as human except their blood. Or perhaps they were so puny that the Bolt did not even recognise there was flesh, tearing through them and vanishing off over the horizon.

The cracks of the Multi-Las as it fired a stream of laser bolts at them, the thunderous roars of the Lascannons as the air crackled in its passing, the artillery booming, the ground itself shuddering every time a massive engine of the Emperor's might smashed the heretics.

Their screams were filling her ears… those of them that survived because a Krieger missed their mark. Someone would be disciplined today.

The tanks were likely already gone, the first targets for the Leman Russ Battlegroup that had been brought to the front. The enemy was being crushed and all was right in the universe.

"Cease fire!" Came the call.

6969 let up on the trigger.

"Police!"

6969 stood up, lifting herself over the parapet and ticking off the safety of her shotgun.

Stalking forward, she joined the rest of the front line, moving forward and canvassing the killing field. What had been sand and dunes, was now a cratered moonscape, the landscape itself a testament to the presence of the Imperial Guard.

Marching forward 6969 began her task.

They were all quartermasters now.

The field before her was just as she had expected it to be. The bodies of the heretics were littered throughout the area, their bodies assuming they still had them were in pieces, the most common of which being the legs, the rest of the body having been destroyed by the forces arrayed against them.

6969 made sure to pick up any of the weapons that she found, cradling them in her arms for the Engiseers to examine for possible signs of corruption and heresy.

Those what had managed to survive were given the Emperor's mercy, there would be no second chances for those that dared to spurn the generosity of the Princess.

Their vehicles were burning, so poorly designed that the turrets had been blown off the hulls by the ammunition cooking off it looked like.

Ork levels of quality.

From here on, hopefully there would be more incursions, she would teach them the mercy of the Emperor.

6969 sighed. She was back to looking after these… civilians. Feeding them from her requisitioned rations, ensuring they had water from the desalination plant on the coastline, ensuring their buildings were properly cared for, ensuring they weren't killing each other.

It was… nothing but busywork and she was finding it to be nothing but busywork. Busywork that she had not been trained for, nor what she was developed for. This was not what she had been ready to do. This was her life now.

The civilians were converting at least. They were saying something about the Emperor being a divine being, the Princess a prophet… she wasn't sure when the Ecclesiarchy had arrived but she was glad, they were being taught the virtues of the Imperium.

Perhaps they would be worth something in the future… far into the future.

George12

Dec 8, 2016

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Threadmarks 046 Brockton Rebuild

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George12

OAMU

Dec 8, 2016

#409

Piggot was trying to… something.

She was trying to something.

Wow.

This.

She had forgotten what it felt like to be like this.

Wow.

Just… more.

Please.

Piggot luxuriated in the feeling of being whole, of being able to see her feet again, of being… well. Not in constant pain.

Normal?

Yes, she was normal and it was certainly something that stood out in her mind because she had not been normal for a very very long time.

Emily Piggot made sure that the front door was locked before she pulled off her shoes and luxuriated in the feel of her feet on the carpet.

This was the life.

She had bought this carpet… more out of spite for herself than anything. A way that she would be able to be reminded on a constant basis of just how much she was missing out on because of her injuries, a constant reminder of what happened if you fucked up somewhere down the line. Always able to see it, but never actually being able to enjoy it, the act of putting on and taking off her shoes are too involved for that.

But now… now she could just slip them on and off.

She had proper boobs again and wasn't that something. She made sure to check in the mirror occasionally to remind herself just how awesome she had been and was going to be. The way her jaw just enhanced her eyes doubled the intimidation factor that she was going to be able to bring to bear on anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with her. Oh yes, this was certainly something she could get behind.

Piggot cracked her neck, stretched and began running through some warmup exercises her old drill sergeant had made them do every day in basic. She hadn't been able to do them for years now, but now… she didn't have an excuse. And dammit she was going to be getting back into shape if it killed her.

She was going to be able to run properly, carry kit properly, dodge out of the way of bullets properly (or at least pretend to), be stronger, faster, harder. She was going to be training her body under a Catachan who had been recommended to her by Hannah, or Miss Militia. She had a smile on her face when she had done so but it didn't matter, she needed to be at the standard she was going into Ellisburg if not better.

If she needed to order a kill-team, she was damn well going to be at the head of it.

How this had happened in the first place was that Maxine had very simply nudged her into a room with… a frankly fucking terrifying spider made out of surgical tools and one of those fucking Engiseers in the corner.

She had stared at it and she was very certain they were going to strip her skin off and have someone pretend to be her for a second there until it had certainly not turned out that way at all. Or maybe it had and she was an imposter that was wearing the skin of the old Emily Piggot?

It was called a Juvant treatment or something of the like and it had certainly worked that was for sure. It had made her younger somehow, regenerating her telomeres until they were of the length that they had been when she was in her twenties.

But that wasn't all, the Engiseer had implanted in her what she had been told was new organs, cloned ones made from her own genetic structure. How they had done that she didn't know, but she heavily suspected that Maxine had something to do with that. It would make far too much sense.

Regardless, Emily Piggot was young again, whole again, and her mind was sharp. No longer dulled by the constant pain, by the ever present fear of her terrible health in the back of her mind, she was ready to take on the world.

Or rather… she would if she ever opened her window.

Who the fuck knew that being a kilometer in the air was a fucking terrifying experience.

"Here is your new office," they said, the bastards.

She had seen her officers grin when they said that, showing her the elevator that would take her straight to her office, a personal elevator just for her, genetically locked and everything. Only… only the ride took something like a singe minute, a concern you had to think about when the damned thing moved at the speed of sound, spending more time decelerating than actually moving at speed.

When she had stepped out of the elevator, Piggot marvelled at just how similar her room was to her original office… that was until she looked out the window and marvelled at how she did have a fear of heights.

There was no city down there, there was nothing. Just a fucking… drop. An ocean of blue, an ocean of green, an ocean of green tinted grey, and just… the Spire in between. Because holy shit she needed this right now.

Piggot had fallen backwards and was on the verge of hyperventilating when Maxine had strode in and smiled at her. The conversation had been one that Piggot hadn't paid much attention to, her mind occupied by the fact that if someone threw her out of her office window, she would be falling for literal minutes had her palpitating… just a little bit.

She wasn't a superstitious person by any means, but this just fucking screamed "divine intervention me already" to her.

What was worse was that she was also a suspicious person and this screamed "We regret to inform you but Emily Piggot died yesterday from falling from her tower, it has been ruled as suicide."

Piggot was determined from that point on to inquire as to the best person she could ask to install bars on her windows. Really big fucking bars that could hold up to Crawler because she was not going to be suicided anytime soon.

Piggot frowned at the particularly painful stretch as she arched her back. Oh… that hadn't been done in years.

Moaning a little she slumped forward and closed her eyes, resting her head on the carpet.

Taking the opportunity, she wondered as to what was happening in her city… or rather the Princess City.

The negotiations as to what was going to happen to the city had been dominating by the Princess Guard. They had walked into it with a plan for how they were going to work on the city, how they were going to in their words 'make it habitable,' and the proceeded to outline what they were planning with regards to the movement of men and women.

The mayor had tried to offer protests up, but he had been routinely ignored when it came down to it, His city was no longer his and honestly, he wasn't going to be worth very much in the long term as it was. A mayor that was a mayor of a city that no longer elected its leadership? Well, that was going to be a sticking point that was for sure.

He had raised a fuss over it, but the likelihood of the Princess' Guard actually caring were very small, and after watching what Magnus had done to the city in the first place, well there wasn't going to be anyone who was going to naysay the Princess for a very long time it looked like.

And so it was that the city of Brockton Bay was going to be remade in the image of the Princess, or at least how she considered that a city should be made… or perhaps how the advisors had said how a city should be made. Piggot had a hard time picturing the Princess as the kind of person that would actually like the design of a large concrete city.

What had come after that was different again. The construction of the new PRT and Protectorate headquarters as well as that for the local law enforcement (their words to describe the police), and that of the Arbites had come up in the discussion. PIggot had assumed that was where her say in the proceedings was going to occur, assuming she would be working on placing the offices and maybe trying to situate it so that she could help and tap into as many little areas as possible. She was going to do her best to help everyone and not be geologically locked out of the world by her location.

Only it was question after question of what she would need to better respond to global threats, what she needed if there was an attack in Washington, what she would need in case she was trying to do something with regards to having an effective defensive force for the city, and more.

Questions that were so far above her paygrade that she had to mentally check if she was hearing correctly, what with that being for Chief Director Costa-Brown to handle and not for her.

But they had been adamant and she had answered the questions as best as she could have. Leaving the meeting confused, Piggot had been shown around a massive site the next day. What looked to be a full five kilometers of foundation for a massive structure that she was told, was going to be her new offices, as well as that of the local law enforcement (which had been clarified as the Princess' Guard's local enforcement), and the Arbites which were the proper law enforcers if she understood correctly.

Piggot had been confused but it certainly wasn't as bad as it could have been she thought. A massive structure like this to hold many different offices, kind of like the Pentagon (she snorted at that comparison) and it would be able to hold the Princess' Guard so she would be able to collaborate with them more easily. It wasn't so bad when she thought about it in those terms.

She had been given free reign as to how she wanted to deal with the Princess' Guard so long as she didn't do anything that would threaten the integrity of the United States of America, the PRT, and the Protectorate. The Princess would in their words be given a city to play conquest in and she was going to keep an eye on the proceedings.

Only… they had far exceeded what she thought she would be looking at.

Very seriously, what had happened and why the hell was there a massive chunk of space that only grew taller with every day that passed?

It wasn't until she was told that the Princess' Guard expected the Spire of Unity as they called it to be used by quite literally all of the PRT that she had understood what it was they wanted to be done.

They had built the Spire as a response to the need of the PRT to have a strategic option when they needed to deploy their forces. As in the PRT would have the assistance of the Princess' Guard's units, their forces, their transportation and their logistics to assist in the protection of the country and Canada.

As in the PRT had been co-opted into spreading the message of the Princess even if the Princess' Guard weren't saying anything themselves. That the PRT was deploying from the Spire in the middle of their city, that the PRT was using their vehicles… well, it spoke volumes.

The fact of the matter being that they couldn't even refuse without making themselves look like evil people. That they would spurn the offer of what was being called the Hopebringer would only turn the public against them, that if they did, then they would be giving up something that would allow them unparalleled access to the world. Valkyries that could launch from the top of the Spire which poked into the underbelly of Space itself, fly anywhere in the world in 16 minutes and drop off a squad of PRT squaddies was far too tempting to resist.

Then came the fact that they expected FEMA and the like to be housed here as well since Local Law Enforcement included all the local branches of government apparently. How far that extended she had no idea, but it was currently enough that she was expected to now coordinate what was at least 5 different department's had her head ache.

Dammit Maxine.

They had been played and dammit she was going to do some playing herself or she wasn't Emily Piggot.

FEMA, the National Guard, the Arbites, the Police, her own PRT, and god knew how many more all now "under her purview".

Piggot was exercising because she would be damned if her body gave out from all the extra work that was being piled onto her.

George12

Dec 8, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 36 Arbite

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George12

OAMU

Dec 9, 2016

#416

Barry Sumter was a beat cop. He was a regular cop. Not even a PRT officer or even a detective, just your regular cop.

A regular guy.

Well… not exactly. He was a Brockton cop which meant that he knew the way that things worked. You take a little compensation, you turn a blind eye to certain areas, you don't interrupt the gangs when they were doing their thing, you didn't try and pick up the Villains.

Just… do your thing, just keep going at it and avoid dying or whatever it was going to happen to you.

Trying to do otherwise would only get you in a world of pain.

He hadn't liked it… but like all cops he had grown numb to it all. Just going about his day, knowing when to bend the law, when to ignore it, just getting by until he could retire.

Only now things had changed and they had changed dramatically. Dramatically enough that he was wondering if he should just retire and get out while he still could.

There had been negotiations between the mayor, the chief of police, the PRT and who knew what else. All of it boiled down for Barry into a situation where he was still a beat cop, but he was one that was acting as a liaison for the Arbiters that were serving the Law as they called it, with a capital L.

He had grown used to it by now. The way the Arbiters trundled along, watching for crime, a regular patrol through the city.

It wasn't that bad usually, after seeing one of the Arbites kill one of the offenders that had broken the Law, the rest of the population was much more compliant. The law was enforced extremely harshly, but those that lived within the bounds of the Laws were allowed all the freedom they wished for. So long as it didn't break the Law.

As a liaison his job was… different. Very different even. He was essentially the errand boy, only he was bringing in people that were going to be judged for various crimes.

The punishments of which either ranged from death, to community service at the discretion of the presiding judge. The more serious ones were referred up the chain to an Arbite judge who had the authority for such matters.

The crimes for death were varied but generally boiled down to "attempting to kill an officer of the Imperium," to "treason", to "Heresy," with a capital H.

The laws made perfect sense really… except in some cases like no drawing 8 pointed stars, no excessive pleasure in acts of deviance which may or may not include sex, torture sex, deprivation sex, and basically more kinky sex and torture, to things like no self mutilation, or excessive piercings.

Still, the overall theme of it was a series of laws that generally promoted overall stability and health. No theft, no killing, no breaking the law.

The civil regulations were different from the Laws. These weren't subject to punishment by the Arbiters, but they were open to Arbiter investigation in case the case led to something wider.

Since they were not open to an Arbiter initially, then it was the duty of the local law enforcement to prosecute the civil cases. Since the Princess wanted her own local law enforcement, not one of the fanatics Barry had heard about, it meant that the local police and civilian volunteers were being retrained as effective local law enforcement.

In Barry's case, he was on rotation as a liaison, which meant having to sit through countless judgements of the civil cases. He brought in those who were going to be judged for Punitive Code violations, and he organized those that wanted their cases heard in the civil law area.

He was doing things properly… they all were. The punishment for corruption was death, negligence was community service with possible downgrades to hard labour and more little… painful incentives. So long as you were caught that is...

Barry was certainly a busy bee and it was a good thing, the missus had been finding new joy as a seamstress, designing camouflage patterns for the Imperial Uniforms. If he came home less than tired she was going to have words with him.

At least there were less civil cases then there had been in the beginning. Wasting an Arbiter's time was a Punitive offence after all. Hard Labour on Mars was just the lightest punishment for that particular crime.

Once the idiots were out of the way, it was was the was the same kind of thing that he had been doing since he started. Just listening to petty complaints. Only the Judge in these cases was an Arbiter and they were very much… not willing to play around.

He had seen a few bribes, those were killed on the spot for breaking Punitive Code AB-554-AE. Never let it be said that humans did not adapt and soon came the ones that tried to assassinate the Arbiters… only for the Regiments to crack down hard on the offenders.

Barry was broken out of his musings by the clamouring in the front of the courtroom. It looked like someone was disputing the ruling on the case, which was a very bad idea. A very bad idea.

Oh dear.

"This car is $500,000 are you saying his shitty little sedan is worth it?" Was the man's voice, strident, high pitched, radiating money just like his clothes. Kiddo you came to the wrong city thought Barry.

Barry shook his head, there were quite a few of these. They figured that Brockton Bay was safe, figured they could just come over and set up, coast on the life, tried to bring with them their old values and treat everyone around them like shit, just like they did back home where their parents had all the power, or they had the money.

Only the problem was that the judges were now Arbiters and they couldn't be bribed, which naturally didn't end so well for them… like as in it ended extremely badly for them usually and sometimes… sometimes Barry just liked to watch.

Like when the Mayor's friends came over and they just fucked all over the laws while he had to turn a blind eye, well no more. Barry hid a grin, no point antagonizing the Arbiter.

"Your money is worthless in the Imperium. One civilian vehicle is the same as any other the judgement stands." Intoned the Arbiter, sounding as implacable as ever. Barry had heard it was possible for the Arbiter to reverse their decisions, but he had never actually seen it happen. If you presented a good enough case and they were able to follow your logic then sure, but if you were going to be shouting at them… well, things weren't going to go so well.

"Who gives a shit I bumped it! Fuck you and fuck your shit! This Imperium of yours is shit if you think some fuckass poor piece of shit is worth the same as one of us. The real movers and shakers." He shouted, his face looking petulant. Oh dear he just went there. Oh dearie dearie me. Barry sat back and waited for the fireworks.

Establishing Law Field

Came the voice of the Arbiter as he stood up from his little pod-thing, the one that judges usually sat in.

Barry never quite got used to watching the Arbites do their work. The reason that people listened to them in the first place was that they were literally the embodiment of the Emperor when they went like this. Conduits of the Emperor as Barry had heard, which meant that each of them was basically channelling a God.

When they wanted you dead, then you died and it was like a God just pummelled you down, ripped the soul out of the body and just left it to die. Had been fucking terrifying the first time he had seen it. The person was still alive, but they would never wake up again, their soul was gone.

Seriously terrifying.

The Defendant is Accused of Contempt for the Court how do you Plead?

Ah, straight into the accusations. The man was floating up, a set of golden rings holding him in place. Not letting him escape , not even letting him wriggle. Above his head was a golden glowing ball, it would change colour as the judgement went on, gold meant truthful, red meant lying (automatic punishment depending on the severity of the lie), silver meant that it was only a partial truth (grounds for further questioning.

It worked by reading the soul or something, the rings directly connected in like some kind of infallible lie detector since it was the soul in the first place… and if you managed to fool the soul, then there was something very wrong with you regardless from his understanding.

"I'm not in contempt of the court! I'm sorry. Seriously sorry. I didn't mean it!" He blubbered from his perch in the sky, the screaming of a woman to the side (who was going to be shut up very soon if she kept it up) ringing in Barry's ears.

Aaaaaaand. Red. Ooooh.

He was lying to the Arbiter, automatic sentence extension. The idiot. Didn't he read the Laws going in? Everyone got a pamphlet with them on it, the ones that were grounds for punitive punishment that is. It wasn't like it was even that big, just a single page. They told you that if you broke them you were going to be punished to the full extent of the Law, guess some idiots never learned.

Barry had been told that those same laws governed the entirety of the Imperium of Man, which was like a million worlds or so. Which was ridiculously impressive given that they couldn't even get a single set of laws across the country here in the good old EA of Earth.

Lie. The Accused has broken Punitive Code A1-412-452: Lying to an Arbiter. 10 Years Hard Labour. The Accused is found GUILTY of Contempt for the Court. 5 Years Hard Labour.

And with that, the man was dropped to the ground and he scrambled up, trying to find a way out. "My dad will hear of this! This won't be the last you hear of me! Just fucking watch your back you piece of shit! I'll make you pay!" He screamed.

Barry felt the urge to slam his head on the table in front of him.

Why was it the stupid ones just kept going? Shouldn't there be limits or something here? Barry sighed as the rings appeared around the man again. Barry couldn't be bothered to learn his name, they didn't matter when it came down to it, it wasn't like he was going to be seeing him anytime soon... or ever.

The Defendant is Accused of Threatening an Officer of the Law. Verdict. GUILTY. Punishment. Death.

And there it was. Barry sighed, looked like another coma patient he was going to need to clear out of the area. Why him? Did he look like a coroner? Seriously?

Barry stood up, ready to drag the man out of there after the Arbiter stripped his soul from his body and threw it into the Warp. Something about not being worthy of the Emperor's grace and having to try again. He wasn't sure about the specifics and when it came down to it… it wasn't as if he really cared, as an agnostic himself, it wasn't as if he really believed in a God in the first place. Or at least a benevolent God. Sure his mind was being changed a little bit, but nowhere enough for him to suddenly go "I am now Worshipping Paperwork!" Because fuck that noise. He had done enough to see him get into a million Paperwork heavens without even needing to apply for them.

Beginning Punitive Action

Barry clenched his teeth. Here it was.

The sound that came next was not one that you could hear with the ears, rather it was one that was felt on the level that his soul sat. Just a pure scream of pain, of… being sorry… just ugh. Barry hated it and he guessed he understood why the Arbiters were such humourless bastards. Hear that sound all day long and you would be fucking depressed as shit as well.

Fuck.

Punitive Action Concluded. Recording Punishment. Law Field Concluded.

And then it was back to normal, except for the unresponsive sack of flesh that used to be the accused.

Barry sighed as he walked over and began to drag him out with help of one of the Priests of the Emperor. There was always one of them at the hearings, why he didn't know, but they were certainly helpful.

To the coroner's down the hall then off to pick up the next group of defendants and accusers and whatever else was coming with them.

George12

Dec 9, 2016

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Threadmarks 047 Africa Campaign

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George12

OAMU

Dec 9, 2016

#417

The city of Brockton was in the process of rebuilding and it was now time for the attention of the Princess' Guard to turn elsewhere, the Guard had hands now, many hands and they were wasted in Brockton, it was too small for all of them. Other objectives existed, other goals, other possible pathways for them to take to accomplish their overall goal, that of taking the world.

For while they were taking in the people of the continent, these were peoples who had been reasonably well off.

Or rather, they had not been on the verge of starvation. Each and every one of them surviving even if they had not been thriving.

This would, of course, make their pool of converts much lower than it could have been otherwise, a problem for the Guard who were working on a timetable.

No, they needed to turn their attention out elsewhere, to the continent of Africa.

As it was they had already built settlements for the people of the continent. One settlement actually. One that was under constant attack for the last month by what the Guard had assumed to be disparate elements who were probing for weakness.

They had stopped but the hijack of the surveillance systems that the so called NORAD and this "surveillance network" used had shown that they were merely gathering their forces.

Waiting and watching, ready to attack. Even now they were receiving yet more reinforcements, more soldiers, more armour.

Something needed to be done and it was a case of hitting 2 birds with 1 stone in this case. The soldiers of the Guard ready for deployment. The refugee settlement had proven to be a success, the people of this world just as easily malleable when they were hungry and desperate as those in the Imperium had been.

Humanity was nothing if not consistent.

Conquering a large part of the Continent, offering refuge and then moulding the people into something that made them worthwhile of the Emperor's generosity, all part of the plan.

It would be difficult, they were human and as such intractable. A contradiction was all humanity. Malleable yet intractable, gullible yet stubborn. The duality of it allowed for humanity to reach their heights… and their lows.

Regardless, they would take the Eastern side of the continent, in doing so they would create a large state of their own in which to construct the African version of Brockton Bay only many times larger, many times more in terms of population. Projections put the population of Africa to be roughly a few dozen million. Not too many to fit in a Hive City that was for certain.

And so it was that the final plan had been finalised with the Princess in attendance. They would strike out from the Princess Base using the teleportariums for the soldiers to appear in the Africa Camp and use that as their launchpad for the assault.

They would be joined by the armour that would be airlifted in, forming Mechanised Regiments by which to strike out and hammer the enemies of the Princess. Rolling directly through the enemy lines, they would crush them beneath the armoured boot of the Imperium, steady yet so devastating.

From the sky would appear the Tempestus Scions and their equivalents, all striking out at strategic targets, the fuel depots, rear barracks, maintenance stations, villages and more. The light infantry would secure the rear line, sow discord and tear apart any overall cohesion that they had, making it easier for the armoured boot to tear through them.

They weren't all loud however, a select few would be inserting quietly, dropping down from over the cloud cover with their grav-chutes, landing in the middle of enemy territory and then taking up positions to observe movement in the area, from there they would either assassinate key individuals, or simply relay movements to command.

The key to the overall assault was in essence speed and ferocity. The disparate factions all resembled Orks. Only the Nobz were more often than not Weird Boyz. Individually they were powerful but against the might of the Imperium?

No such luck.

They would need to be struck down in a single hammer blow. To strike at them one by one would do nothing but warn them of their imminent demise, giving them time to reorganise their forces and perhaps even band together.

Unacceptable.

The casualties of each assault would only increase the more psykers joined hands, their powers were greater than the sum of their parts.

It would be best therefore if they were destroyed before they could do something akin to that.

Once the region, from the regions of Zanzibar down to Mozambique, and across to Zambia, taking a large triangle worth of territory out of the continent had been secured, they would then move to phase 2 which was the consolidation of the peoples of the continent together. All of them would be going into the temporary cities, a temporary measure while the first of the African cities proper was to be constructed. They would be constructing the first of the Hive cities for this world, a monstrosity of a city that in turn would allow for the consolidation of a continent's worth of people into a single area to make administration easier, but to also provide to the world an example of the marvels of engineering capable by the Imperium.

This world was very likely to be classified as a civilized world and so excessive Hive cities was prohibited, but one or 2 would not be too much… it would certainly make some of the other regiments feel at home at least.

They were feeling dreadfully homesick, especially the ones from the Valhalla (only they wanted sub zero temperatures), the Vostroyans, the Mordians and Praetorians (only a little bit).

While the population was corralled they would be taught Low Gothic while they were all in one place and filtered through as they learnt the language, or at least displayed enough of an attempt at it. The old and infirm could not be expected to properly learn, what with them being nearly dead after all.

Once inside they would assist in the production of more parts and items for the rest of the society, each Hive city in essence, being largely self contained, all of it able to sustain itself so long as the recycling plants were working as intended and the people refrained from overpopulating everything as humans were known to do.

But that would of course, be dependent upon them taking the land in the first place, and avoiding civilian casualties as they had been ordered to do. There would be no point in constructing the refugee camps if there were no refugees to rescue.

A difficult proposition to be sure, the fact that many of the Nobz were living inside of civilian areas, the Princess' edict making the more difficult than it should have been. Normally it would have been expected to simply shell the city until there was nothing left and move on, but now they had to clear each and every one of them, a problem.

But they were the Imperial Guard and there was no problems that they could not solve.

Each and every one of the Nobz would be given a single chance to surrender, the peoples under then told to evacuate the area for the next 24 hours. When the timer ticked down to zero, then there was going to be the initial and final strike. The Imperium did not offer second chances.

If all things went as well as hoped, the campaign should be over within the week. If it was delayed then likely it would take a month. And if it went on even longer than that, they would be deploying Mitchelli the Space Marine to spearhead a push into the most reticent of zones or perhaps even the Princess herself. Either way, at the end of the month there would be nothing left but the civilians, piles of rubble and the Astra Militarum, triumphant after having accomplished their mission to their fullest capabilities.

There would be no failure, no weakness today. The Imperium would conquer, they would crush, and they would demonstrate just exactly why it was that they were the dominant species of the galaxy (outside of a unified Ork race, or the awakening Necrons, or the Tyranids, or a full strength Eldar... ).

From Madagascar Base the Princess was overseeing the deployment of her troops, all of them having the chance to die. All of them possibly being lost forever. All of them at her order.

But she could not cry, nor could she scream, for she was the Primarch and she would remain strong. It would not do for the last expression that they saw of their Primarch was one of tears and sadness, it sapped at morale.

And so as she stood before all of them on the balcony overlooking the square of the Madagascar Base, the Princess waved and smiled as strongly as she could as the thumping of thousands of fists against thousands of flak vests and carapace armour sounded. The square which held the mighty army of the Imperial Guard echoing the sound, the mighty thuds of the footsteps, the mighty crashes of fist against breastplate, the roars of the engines, the cries of "Princess".

All of it being recorded in realtime and sent throughout the world.

Every single person who was watching the /Videos page would see each and the video as it was in real time. Multiple cameras streaming the data to the web page, all of those watching able to pick a single view that they wanted to see it from, from the birdseye view that could capture the sight of the tens of thousands of soldiers, or from the front where the faces of the Valhallans, the Vostroyans, the Praetorians, the Tallarns, and more were standing or mounted, all of them proud, resolute.

Their eyes burning with an inner fire, a demand to be let loose upon the world and to demonstrate exactly what it was about them that had let to they being chosen to represent their regiments. They were the best of the literal best, they were the chosen.

The Princess' Guard.

All of them watched with anticipation as the Princess composed herself.

Standing tall she said but one phrase, one phrase that would echo in their hearts even unto death.

BRING ME VICTORY

Her own fist clashed against the custom suit of Power Armour that the Engiseers had crafted for her, a mastercrafted piece of technology on part with that worn by the other Primarchs themselves. It would offer her a 2 Plus Save a level of protection far beyond that of mere Power Armour. Inside it held its own shield generator, a teleporter beacon and more. The greatest work that the Engiseers had ever made on such an intricate level.

It was a moving, functional piece of art, worship to the Machine God with every whirr of the servo motors, a glorious piece of machinery one that was worthy of only the Princess.

And so it was that the Princess' Guard marched. They marched forward deep into Madagascar Base itself, to the teleportariums that would see them sent across the channel, to the launchpads where vast dropships awaited them, to the Valkyries for they of the Tempestus Scions.

Once again the Princess' Guard were marching to war, once again the world would know just what it was that they were playing host to. For those that had the temerity to forget, they were going be given a very clear reminder as to the might of the Imperium in full. It was not merely a few companies striking out against the enemy this time, but the full might of a regiment.

As the feet stomped on the pavement, as the treads of their armoured vehicles squeaked and rattled, the whirrs of servos as the sentinels made their way forward, the low chanting as they sang the Song of the Emperor.

The world watched them as they departed, and they would be able to watch them as they fought. Watch as the might of the Imperium crushed those who stood before them. Breath was being held in anticipation (metaphorically, being knocked unconscious would ensure they couldn't see it).

As for the Princess, she felt a pat to her back. The First Hand was smiling wanly at her.

"It is necessary." She said, touching the Princess' hand with her own. While they couldn't touch through the ceramite and adamantium encased tissue, it was the thought that counted.

"So they say. So we say. Just how much of it actually is? When we look back on this, I will feel so much regret… so much."

"But you will do it anyway.' She replied.

"Yes. For the future of the many, we… I will sacrifice the few. Being in this position at all… How many are going to die because of just one word?" The Princess trailed off.

"Too many. But you will do it because you must. You are the Princess after all."

"Yes. Yes, I am."

And with that they turned and walked inside, when a Primarch cried, they should do so in private.

George12

Dec 9, 2016

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Threadmarks 048 Brockton Rebuild

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George12

OAMU

Dec 9, 2016

#418

Lisa Wilborn, the First Hand (she always blushed when she thought about her unofficial name), the Tattletale, and soul bond of the Princess was walking through the streets of the city of Brockton.

Enjoying a leisurely stroll through what had used to be the docks of the city, a stroll through the very nice and very… gothic… buildings that had replaced it. Each was was the height of a skyscraper, each one the size of a city block, each one filled to the brim with people.

Each of the Habitation Blocks as they were known was a very simple structure when it came down to it. A highly efficient one at that. At intervals, there were floors dedicated to "commerce" where you could trade luxury coupons or barter your own goods, or just use the general logistic coupons to get a variety of different items.

There was money, but that would be added at a later date, the name of them being Thrones if Lisa could remember correctly. She had not known why they were called Thrones and she didn't want to ask, it probably had something to do with the Emperor… that guy.

On the other floors of the Hab Blocks were residential rooms, each one able to hold a family of 5, the Imperium apparently expected you to produce extra people, no doubt for their constant wars. The Hab Blocks themselves were all connected to the ones next to them through sky bridges and underground tunnels. Each hab block digging deep into the ground to make use of as much space as they could, the basement levels filled with manufacturing equipment and medical centers for light injuries.

There were dozens of them currently, each one filling up as soon as it was constructed, there still thousands of people out in the refugee camps but they were depleting very quickly, the Princess had prioritized the construction of the Hab Blocks over everything else.

The humans in the camps were going to be turned into people again she had said and Lisa approved. She was maturing which was nice, less liable to freak out over the idea that people were going to be killing each other. Whatever Magnus had said to her had worked out for the better.

Lisa could feel that she was still sad and occasionally melancholy over the decisions that were being made, especially once she heard of the casualties that those in the Africa campaign were sustaining, but she was less chronically depressed over it.

As for Lisa, she was wandering through the city to get a general idea as to the feeling of the city itself. She was after all the First Hand and she was going to be making sure that there was nothing here that was going to be a problem. Her powers had expanded somehow and she was able to see much more without needing to worry about whether or not she would go into her catatonic state while doing so.

Joy - Concern over how long this will last

The thoughts of the population were standard at least. This early on they were just happy about being outside of the... elements inside the refugee camps. It wasn't as bad as it could have been and they all understood that on a basic level.

The fact of the matter being that if Magnus had not teleported them away, it was likely Brockton would have been sunk into the ocean regardless, and that many of them would have died in response to what Leviathan would have done. Death by drowning was certainly not a pleasant way to go when it came down to it.

And so they were very thankful to the Princess for saving them from that… but they were people. How long until they were complaining about her neglect of X or Y would have to be seen and Lisa was very sure that Taylor was not going to take the shouts and screams of the masses well.

Humanity was truly ugly when it came down to it and she was just glad that she had been able to see that before she had grown to believe in some kind of "inner good". She wasn't going to be sucked in by that, not today, not anymore.

Still, something would need to be done to stop the population from doing something stupid like anger the Princess to the point where she took away the protections that were stopping the Regiments from policing them like a newly conquered world… with brutal and deadly force.

Maybe a complaints box? That certainly would help… maybe.

As for the Regiments, Lisa was still marvelling over how… similar many of them were to the stereotypes of the various different groups in the world.

The Praetorians were British.

The Phantines were the SAS.

The Catachans were Australian.

The Mordian Iron Guard were the Prussians.

The Valhallans were the Russians.

The Armageddon Regiments were World War 1 German.

And so on.

It was… ridiculous and she was guessing that they would be having words with the people who had designed them in the first place except for the fact that Magnus likely had already called dibs on them.

Something about them being "really fucking lazy" in his own words. Lisa had picked up that his anger stemmed mainly from his character model being so… average, had ticked him off. Especially for such an avid Collector as he was. And what a collection he did have.

Lisa and Taylor had been invited by Magnus down below the Princess Base into what was likely part of the mantle of the planet where Magnus had then revealed to them his… laboratory.

A place where he could do his research without worry he had said.

Which was ok.

Perfectly ok.

If not for the fact that he had a squad of Space Marines there from his Legion to assist in his research, which likely meant that whatever it was… was fucking terrifying. Their escort had been a squad of them, brought over by Magnus' powers… a squad of Space Marines.

Lisa had tugged on Taylor's hands at that, her powers had screamed at her to get away from here, to just run the fuck away and just… be anywhere but here. Even her non-powered senses were screaming at her that this was all wrong and something very bad was going to happen very soon and if she stayed then they were all going to die and oh god this was terrible.

They had been escorted to Magnus who took them to a vast cavern of a room with a massive curtain around something in the center. A very big something with very loud clinking noises that one associated with chains. Lisa had heard… and she was worried.

Magnus then pulled back the curtain to reveal… Behemoth.

As in the Endbringer Behemoth.

As in the most dangerous of the Endbringers who fucking killed everything that came too close to him and turned everything he went near into a glowing wasteland Behemoth.

That Behemoth.

It was being held in what looked like chains… that were glowing with a very sickly looking purple that made Lisa feel nauseated from looking at them. They sapped at the soul apparently, a way to make the Endbringers docile… or people… or anything. It was growling... it could growl.

Learning new things every day Lisa. Just try to breath again. That's good.

The chains were the same as what was used on psykers… only many times more powerful to deal with an Endbringer. So it wasn't going to be going crazy and killing her... even if it really wanted to. She could tell deep down, the bit inside that had been left from the prehistoric eras was shouting it loudly enough.

Magnus had spoken of how he was trying to rework the programming of an Endbringer and how it was very simple once he got the code worked out for it, the key to them as it were. And then he went on about giving them voices and teaching them to be people and...

And then he started rambling, the Space Marines clapped every now and again and then Lisa had managed to drag Taylor away.

Time enough for that later. They did not need Taylor asking if they could have their own pet Endbringer and goddamn it, the fact that she even said those two words next to each other showed how broken the world was. Lisa had refrained from smacking her head into a wall at that.

The girl was looking rather awestruck and she had wondered out loud how she would meet her other brothers if Magnus was cool like that.

Only for Lisa to demonstrate that her brothers all had serious issues and if she wanted to meet them, then don't do it here where they could destroy a few cities.

Taylor had been taken aback by that until she had agreed that maybe that was a bad idea. Lisa had sighed in relief then, she sighed in relief now as she was walking through the city.

As Lisa looked around, she noted a distinct lack of gang signs, something she approved of a great deal.

You did not fuck with the city, because if you did… the Princess' Guard came down very hard on you. What was worse was that it was a punishable offence by the Arbites and when their sentences ranged from "Hard Labour" to "Death", you tended to follow the laws.

There was no "day in the cell then bail", it was straight to the labour camps on Mars where you were tasked with digging rocks all day, every day.

They didn't know it was Mars, of course, very few knew that they were on Mars in the first place. It was their secret place to escape from in case things went wrong, as well as the site of what looked to be insane levels of production. In a few months, the Engiseers would get production up to the point they could equip a few thousand men every few hours.

On the topic of the Gangs themselves, they were much more... quiet when it came down to it. They were in unfamiliar territory and the gangs were all broken up.

The fact that they had adequate food and shelter meant that many who were in the gangs in the first place decided that they no longer needed to be in them anymore. They had joined for security and safety, all of which was not provided for them by the Princess' Guard.

That and they were all allocated living space, there was no switching rooms since if the Arbites caught you… well, more hard labour.

So the gangs were effectively spread out all over the city with no real way to organize. They all had work now, work that used their previous skills where they were expected to be the most useful. Those with administrative positions were now working in administration, those who were labourers in the manufactorums and the like. It was simple, it was effective, and it was going to cause problems when people wanted upward mobility.

Despite the fact that all jobs paid the same, you did what you had to do and then you went home.

The new Brockton Bay didn't care how much you were worth so long as you were capable of your work and that had certainly been funny to see people react to that.

No more rat-race, work and live.

Lisa nodded to a few Rough Riders that were patrolling through the city on their horses. It was a mix of Krieger Rough Riders with their cyborg/genetically modified/mutant horses and Attilan ones that were purebred… and somehow matched up to the cyborgs. They provided a means of rapid response to problems and a public presence to remind the populace that this was the Princess' City.

Muddling along Lisa approved of what she was looking at. The city was growing, it was flourishing from the looks of it and the people were content.

The problem of what they were working for no doubt bugged a few of them, it wasn't like they could afford to keep making things forever, but that was for her and the Princess to worry about.

Soon when their stockpiles grew large enough, the world would be invaded, the Capitalist way.

With tonnes and tonnes of cheap goods that would have people going gaga over them. People screaming at how amazing and awesome they all were. How truly epic, etc etc. Whatever it was the kids were saying.

Everyone would want one, everyone would crave one, and they would last pretty much forever, like everything else the Imperium produced.

The side effect of this of course, would be the collapse of economies and jobs. The people as a whole were too lazy to understand why all of them purchasing the Princess' goods and not those made in their own country would collapse the economy, and so would blame it on their governments. They would then look at Brockton and Madagascar and clamour to be part of that society, one where things actually worked, and voila, countries joining the Princess without bloodshed.

No need to poison their food supplies like Malcador suggested.

They were getting overtures already, those in Africa that wanted to join (but they only had nominal control over their countries so they didn't count) and Russia strangely enough, had been the first to offer a chance to talk.

She was meeting their leadership later this week to talk details because that was certainly interesting.

The world was in for an interesting ride that was for certain.

The Princess was shaking things up and it looked like America might actually be the last place to feel her influence fully. They were too wealthy and prosperous for anything but overt tactics to work.

As Lisa meandered through the city… with her bodyguard of Catachans and other Regimental soldiers, she pondered life's questions.

It had been a while since she had done that.

Bloody Maxine and Black and Hurosius.

"Kill everything," they said.

"No!" She said.

Gah. Work work. The events in Brockton Bay did not occur in isolation from everything else. To assume otherwise would be the height of foolishness. Rather what had happened in America and what was happening in Brockton Bay were of a paramount importance to a great deal many people around the world, not the least of which were the leaders of the world.

The fact that the Princess had demonstrated a level of power that far outstripped their own was evident. Even if everything else had been taken away, she had the power in the future to equal that of a Primarch, one that they had seen move forward and crush Leviathan in a straight battle, toying with it for the sake of fun. At the same time that all of this was happening, he had regenerated lost body parts, his head and large chunks of vital organs. The fact that he could do all of this was in simple terms… terrifying.

A being of such immense power that they couldn't even kill? A very big worry. One that was made more real by her mission that involved her taking over the world, even if it was for some kind of benevolent goal. Everything was benevolent and just because a little girl said that she was going to be the best thing since sliced bread, didn't mean that she actually was the best thing since sliced bread.

Something would need to be done to ensure that the world didn't just straight up collapse in on itself. The Princess was playing far too many cards and they didn't have any board clear.

On one hand, she had fought off an Endbringer (or her brother had at any rate) and was building her own city, a city that was in simple terms, growing to become one of the most prosperous, safe, and heavily defensible cities on the planet. Moving to Brockton Bay was something everyone who didn't have a few hundred thousand a year in terms of income wanted to do. The fact that the Princess would look after you was something that all of them knew.

In that way, she was striking with hope, hope that had many demanding for the opportunity to be under her banner. If Brockton Bay was so good, then why weren't their own cities like that? It couldn't be that difficult could it? The Princess had done it. When they failed to live up to those expectations there was going to be a very natural upsurge in anger which was going to be extremely dangerous.

The fact that she protected against an Endbringer played into this as well, people wanted security and she offered that. The questions would come in soon, "why aren't you like the Princess?", their demands ringing to high heaven.

At the same time she had her armies in Africa on a campaign that had effectively swept over a third of the lower continent, taking over a large swathe of the continent, and now as in the process of building a gargantuan city, one that required her to tap into the core of the planet for power. A Hive City it was called.

At the same time as this was happening she was taking on tens of millions of refugees in what appeared to be massive buildings on the level as that of the city of Brockton Bay, the refugees streaming in from all over the world. From Eastern Europe, from Western Europe, from the Middle East, from Africa itself, all of them making the pilgrimage to be part of whatever it was she was offering.

They were seeing the livestreams of the city, they were seeing live reports, they were seeing the announcers and their annoyingly perky voices telling all that all were welcome here. The Hive City would be the most multicultural city in the world at this rate and that was bodies that were leaving their own countries.

She would protect and her Guard were providing order. Any who tried to disrupt it were shot on the spot. She had shown that she was incredibly brutal, but fair, her own actions creating in others the expectations that she would be treating them fairly as well. Follow the Law as she had decreed and they would be free to do whatever else that they desired. What was more, was the Law was impartial, in following the Law, they were living with the knowledge that all others would too, there would be no favouritism here.

Her refugee centers expanded and she merely added more soldiers to police them, the thousands of soldiers policing the many millions that were streaming in and already established. She offered order, she offered hope, she offered stability. Who did not want these things?

Not to mention that she went further than that, Brockton was currently developing and exporting numerous technologies that were proving to be extremely dangerous to the established forces around the world. The fact being that the technology that was being exported was superior to that already in use around the world, but also the fact that it also would last for thousands of years had severely disrupted the economies of many smaller nations around the globe, or it would soon do so.

It was after all very simple when one thought about it.

Without the need to constantly replace their goods, people would no longer need to purchase as much and when it was as cheap as the Princess was making it to be… well, there was little incentive to purchase anything else. And so the manufacturing companies around the world were facing the very real risk that they were going to lose everything as confidence dropped, customers ceased to exist and their companies were made redundant.

Countries were not immune to this either, those from places such as China faced the very real risk that they were not going to be able to maintain their trade advantage and so they would simply lose everything. And in a country that had a several thousand year history that also strangely enough… included massive rebellions in times of famine that usually killed off the ruling class… well, they were very worried indeed. So very worried in fact that they were pondering just what they could get away with in suppressing the Princess.

Which was the crux of all of their problems when it came down to it.

Just what could they do?

In the face of the Princess and her armies, what could they do? Public opinion was on her side, the public adored her in a way that had not been seen since kings were thought to be descendants of the Gods themselves. Overt action would only end badly for them, subterfuge was impossible given just who she had under her command, sabotage of public opinion was currently impossible, and so on.

Thought was to be given and it wouldn't be long until something was found. Something had to be found or they would lose everything, the world would come under her control without a shot being fired… or at least fired on their territory.

The world leaders were worried and when they were worried they tended to do things that others might consider to be… bad. Or stupid, or foolish or perhaps all 3.

Not all of them of course.

They who were in the African continent were themselves unable to do much to influence the current state of affairs at all. At the same time, they were unable to do anything or worth and so their complaints were ignored as a matter of course.

Russia surprisingly had decided to back the Princess, how this was to be done none of them knew, but the fact that they had not supported any efforts to suppress the Princess, and what was more, suppress those very same elements in their own nation… well, that spoke volumes. Entire libraries of volumes.

When this was over they would deal with Russia, it was getting too big for its shoes.

As for the other developed governments of the world, programs were quietly put in place, programs that had not seen the light of day since the presence of Scion and the Endbringers.

Quiet funding of certain groups around the world, giving them weapons, trainers and more so that they would be able to bleed out the Princess' Guard, or at the very least delay them enough for other measures to be taken, or to be put in place.

They were desperate and they knew it, the Princess was a major threat and if they allowed for her to do as she wished, it was a very real chance they could lose all of their power.

The elites, they who had the most money, they who stood to lose the most were very much afraid and they were leaning heavily upon those that they had bought to do something about the Princess. Whether or not she would do good for the human race was something that they did not care about.

If they were willing to see thousands die so they could make a few more coins, then killing the hope of humanity was just another step to be taken. There were always men who could be bought with money, men who didn't look to the future. They would be the ones pulling the trigger and with enough middlemen, their hands would be clean.

It was not as if they had pulled the trigger after all, and a few million dollars? Well, who could know? They had billions and a few extra million could be explained as just another sports car.

The governments on their own behalf and on the behalf of these groups were doing what they could to begin efforts to mitigate the threat of the Princess to their own power. While the militia funding was a start, other efforts needed to be made. Infiltrating men and women into the Spire of Unity as they called it, sabotaging equipment and the like, anything to make the Princess look less reputable in the eyes of the American people.

Across the world in Europe, in Asia, there were already calls to sanction the incoming goods, the grounds being that the Princess was not a reputable entity and she had not...gasp… filled out the correct paperwork as a multinational corporation.

Anything and everything that could be done to sabotage the Princess were being carried out.

Assassins were being considered, possible armed force, mercenaries.

They were human after all and humans were loathe to lose anything that they considered to be theirs by right.

There was an ever present concern about what the Princess would do to them if she found them in the first place, what with their actions that in turn caused much suffering in the world. Profit at the cost of all else, something that would only see them punished in the wake of the Princess' control of the world.

Greed therefore, motivated their actions, as did the fear of their potential punishment.

The gangs were also mobilizing. The ABB and the E88 had effectively been locked out of Brockton, there was nothing there that they could prey on, nothing that would allow them to recruit numbers in which to allow for them to maintain control over the areas that they had. Their own peoples defecting in large numbers once they had the economic security to do so.

They were forced to leave the city as a result, journeying outwards where their entrance into a new city one that was under the grip of economic turmoil would allow for them to become more powerful, once again kingpins of their little kingdoms. Retaliation would be foolish, they all knew that, and there was little else for them here. They would leave and they would do so quietly.

At the same time, other gangs were looking to expand into the city of Brockton, with varying goals, with various methods.

The Teeth had been hammered in New York, losing much of their territory and the Butcher was preparing to move into Brockton. The one that had allowed the PRT to so effectively crush her gang while also denying them the blood that they demanded was to be punished. And so The Teeth were moving to Brockton, their intent palpable.

Gesellschaft was attempting to make inroads to Brockton, more importantly, they were trying to make inroads to the Princess. If they succeeded in imprinting their ideology on her, then they could be assured of their power, of their continued existence. They had no illusions about the place that they group would hold should she come to power. They would try, and should they fail, then there would be repercussions for her, they would make sure of that.

Those were not the only factions, of course, petitions for an audience were being made by any and all who had a brain, she represented the future and they would need to grab her coat tails if they wanted to get ahead.

And so it was that the world turned around the Princess, binding her ever tighter.

George12

Dec 10, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 37 Africa Campaign 2

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George12

OAMU

Dec 10, 2016

#443

She was Lina Zuhaa Atiyeh, or Lina to those outside of her Regiment. She could not expect them to know how to pronounce her name properly, after all, offence avoided was offence not given after all.

As for what she was, she was a Tallarn, a Rough Rider of the Tallarn to be precise. What did this mean? It meant that she rode her horse into battle, a horse that had been bred to perfection, a horse that was the perfect killing machine, one that would not flinch in the face of enemy fire, not in the explosion of her hunting lance, not in the screams of men.

He would ride into battle and he would crush all those that opposed the Imperium and the God Emperor of Mankind. They would be trampled beneath his massive hooves, they would be torn asunder by her saber, they would die like the pigs they were.

They who rejected the prophet of the Emperor, the very vessel that he would speak to them, they did not deserve to live, they did not deserve mercy.

For Lina, the die had been cast, they who had refused the Princess' merciful calls for surrender would die today. There would be no mercy, there would be no quarter. All of them would die before the day was out, all of those she found tomorrow would die, all those the next day and so forth.

The Tallarns did not take blasphemy kindly, and they who the Tallarns were riding against today had committed blasphemy of the highest order. They had ignored the words of the Princess and in doing so had declared themselves dead to the human race.

Judgement would be meted out and Lina would be at the forefront of that charge.

But she would have to wait. She would have to temper her impatience, her desire to leap into the fray for she had orders.

Oh, how it grated on her to listen and to obey, to not strike out, to not expose herself to the enemy. She had been incensed when it was passed down but it was standard doctrine. The Rough Riders did not make the first wave, it was far too easy to cut them down as they charged in one large mass. It was suicide and Lina understood this on all levels except that of her heart.

The heart that burned with a rage to see the heretics, to strike them down with her saber, to deliver unto them the mercy of the Emperor that they might find in the next life what they had not in this.

It was not as if she was asking for much, merely the chance to crush the heretic, to see them driven before her, to see them dead.

And yet here she was now. Watching. Waiting.

Soon.

Soon she and Ishmael would ride, they would ride into the midst of the heretics and deliver unto them the swift and merciful death that the Emperor decreed that they should be given through his prophet the Princess.

They prayed.

All of them.

The 672nd Tallarn Rough Riders prayed to the Emperor. They prayed for victory, they prayed that their enemies would die before them, they prayed that those that blasphemed the Emperor would burn in the ever living fires of damnation.

And so they waited. And they waited some more. Constant waiting.

More.

"All Rides! March along route C!" Came the call over her vox caster, a small one that hung around her neck. A small one that in no uncertain terms was to never leave her body according to the departmento munitorum official. She had obeyed, of course, he was a worker of the Emperor, his every action a prayer. She would not betray that trust, the trust of having a valuable piece of his will bequeathed to her.

And so Ishmael moved into a trot, jogging lightly forward as he cantered up the path marked on the map, a path that would take them right into the left flank of the enemy lines. A flank that had been exposed as per the manoeuvrings of the Cadian Armoured detachment that had seen fit to assist them in this endeavour to crush the enemies of the Emperor.

She would need to render unto them thanks in the form of including them in her prayers this evening.

As the Rough Riders rounded the sun blasted rocks that was the so called "bush" of this Emperor forsaken place, she spotted the enemy. Ah yes, a company's worth of individuals. Behind them were what looked to be armoured vehicles, vehicles that were full of blasphemy no doubt. Idols and false worship everywhere.

All of it would be purged.

In the name of the Emperor!

"Charge!" Came the roar, and it was answered in kind. The Tallarns pushing their horses into a gallop straight at the exposed flank, a flank that wasn't even protected by scouts or defenders of any kind.

Weaklings.

Fools.

Did they think that the largest weakness in their lines would not be exploited? Ha! They were more foolish and pathetic than Lina had thought!

As the horses galloped in closer, some of them looked up and Lina was gratified to see the naked fear on their faces, the fear that said, "I am now to die because I am a blasphemous fool" in Lina's eyes.

Hunting Lance at the ready, Lina rushed forward, the tip of the spear pointed at the pathetic little vessel that they called a tank. Was this all? Where were the side sponsons? Where was the Battle Cannon? What did they think they would be able to destroy with such a puny arsenal?

Lina did not know, nor did she care, they would die here. The entire detachment was singing and chanting as they rode in, prayers to the Emperor on their lips so that his name would be the last thing they said if they were to die, guaranteeing their place at his side.

The Hunting Lance was what one might call an explosive, a warhead that injected a jet of superheated "plastic" copper into the interior of the vehicle, one that would then shatter into a million smaller particles, all of them bouncing around like the shrapnel of a grenade, tearing through flesh, igniting ammunition, destroying equipment and deafening them with the sound.

As the tip of the lance landed upon the turret, Lina who had braced herself was knocked back slightly, the explosion destroying part of the shaft, spinning her slightly around. The Tank or whatever the thing in front of her was called, suffered far worse. It stopped moving, a very clear indication that something had gone wrong inside and people were not either dead or soon to be dead.

As the Tallarns wheeled around, Lina pulled out the saber from her scabbard, ready to rush forward and cut down the heretics once and for all.

This was the life of a Tallarn, this was what she had been born to do. She would crush the enemies of the Emperor and her life would be complete even should she die here today.

59#2714 was a Rough Rider… of the Death Korps of Krieg.

He was a good rider, he had survived 2 engagements so far. It made him one of the best, if only by the fact that he had survived 2 engagements. He was good at what he did, he knew that, very good.

Not that it really mattered of course when the enemy was before you and about to shoot you in the face.

But for 2714 this was not a concern. He was a dead man riding and should he die here then he would take his rightful place at the Emperor's side.

As for the man, he had been too slow, the cavalry spear in 2714's right hand, braced through his elbow had slammed into his chest, tearing through the weak flesh, the momentum of his horse having driven it far enough through that it skewered the leg of the man behind him.

2714 felt a ghost of a smile on his lips as the lance continued forward, tripping the man over and dragging him behind. Pulling the spear out by virtue of simply angling it backwards, 2714 returned it to the ready position by pulling it high then forward and lanced yet another heretic, their last gurgles transmitted through the thick plasteel that was his spear's shaft.

2714 kept moving, he would continue fighting here until all of them were dead. Either he would die here or they would. There was no retreat for the Death Korps of Krieg, the enemy would either triumph or they would die on their knees like the heretics they were.

2714 jerked slightly to the side. Well, that was new. It looked as if one of the heretics had managed to shoot him, and wound him as well. His left shoulder was out of commission that much was for sure, it had gone straight through the flesh and bone, in between the plates of carapace armour that protected him.

Very lucky.

Still, it was merely his left arm, he would be able to survive with just one and he could kill with none.

As for his horse, 2714 checked the gauges that connected to the beast's bloodstream. The entire thing was born in the vats underneath of Krieg, a war machine just as engineered as the venerable Leman Russ by the Bio-Magos of Mars. Each of them was a unique beast, each of them the same as all others in the regiment.

They were grown to be hyper-aggressive, to be extraordinarily tough, to be able to endure punishment that would kill a normal horse many times over, each of them unable to feel fear and so much more. Each was a little burbling vat of cocktails, all of them bubbling away, needing regular injections lest they die.

As for his own, it needed some more depressants to calm its heart rate. It was rather urgent as a matter of fact, he would need to do it now before the horse died.

Stabbing the spear through one more heretic, he dropped it and fished out a small vial from his vest, stabbing it into the small port that was at the base of the beast's neck, 2714 nodded as the chemical mixture stabilized.

Now back to killing heretics.

2714 pulled out his saber and swung with leisurely abandon at the screaming men. He cared not that they were terrified, that they were weak, that they were repentant. They had spurned the mercy of the Princess, the embodiment of the God Emperor, for them there as only one way forward and that was death.

Some might say that he was callous but 2714 was more clear thinking than most Kriegers. He had been chosen as part of the Rough Riders because of his own initiative and clear thinking after all, or at least initiative when compared to that of the other Kriegers.

He understood then, or had at least reasoned out that in killing these heretics now, he could save them before they turned to chaos and damned themselves for all eternity. By delivering them into the grace of the Emperor this early, he could save their eternal souls.

And so it was that 2714 swung his saber, cutting through bone and muscle alike, the saber propelled by the momentum of a one tonne horse sheared through any and all resistance that they might have.

Bone, muscle, armour, none of it mattered in the face of the Death Korps Saber.

Turning his head, 2714 regarded the rest of the battlefield, the Rough Riders had torn a swathe through the enemy lines. They had been sent to reinforce the enemy at the front and instead had met the line of cavalry.

Their inaction as the Death Korps of Krieg drew closer only sealed their fates, they had started shooting too late and too little, each horse being armoured in carapace armour. Their little sluggers would not hurt it.

And so they had died, they would continue to die and when they were all dead, the Rough Riders would wheel about and search for more heretics to deliver unto the mercy of the Emperor.

George12

Dec 10, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 38 Family Time

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George12

OAMU

Dec 10, 2016

#444

Danny Hebert had found himself in a position where he wasn't… needed anymore.

His daughter did, in an abstract way. Sure Danny had responsibility for the livelihoods of others as a Union manager, but he didn't have their literal lives on his hands.

If he screwed up they might not get paid for the week, but if she screwed up then people were going to die.

He had been unable to do more than offer a shoulder to cry on for his daughter and that grated terribly on him. Her… other father was being an asshole, which turned out to be a fragment of him as opposed to the actual one… still didn't excuse him.

Thankfully Magnus had done his thing and blocked the Shard from interacting with Taylor again.

Which was a relief if Danny was being honest. Knowing that his daughter wasn't going to be getting more angst from that direction was a relief.

At the same time that brought up another question… that of the fact he had something like an entire soccer team's worth of Sons. Sons who just from the works he had read… were so dysfunctional that he wondered just what the Emperor was doing. Seriously, the ones that turned out to all be closet S&M fetishists… just how did he miss the signs?

Seriously, Magnus the one he assumed to be the more… bookish one, had turned out like Annette, a bookish woman that then turned into a raging banshee when provoked. His hair even did the massive growing into a massive shroud thing. Not that hers ever did that… it just felt like it did.

He was very worried about the rest of them and as the fact that he no longer really had a job sunk in since his daughter had made giving everyone employment a priority (he wondered who did that?)… well, he was going to be feeling felt like a secondary job that was turning into a primary one.

That is he was acting as what felt like an impromptu father figure for Magnus… nothing like teaching him the values of life and the like, but rather teaching him about… humans. Or rather how humans interacted with each other and how they were… different from everyone else, or the other Primarchs who were not good examples of what a human was.

It was a goal he felt that was worth consideration perhaps, the whole idea of the Primarchs all being damaged to the point it was strange they worked at all, being a rather worrying thought given that Magnus had just demolished a city as collateral.

It wasn't as if he had done it on purpose, rather it had happened when he had just sat down with Magnus and it was like there was a glaring need in the Primarch for someone to give a damn. Even Danny could feel it, then again they were both male and he had seen similar on the Docks before. When the young ones joined and they looked like they needed a shoulder to lean on.

Danny had figured that he might as well try and help out whatever they were underneath there… under that massive giant chunk of red and whatever it was... there was a human under there. Probably.

Danny figured that he might as well try and get talking to Magnus, while he wouldn't be able to do much considering that he wasn't a psychiatrist, but he would be able to at the very least provide a paternal figure to the Primarch.

Granted the Primarch as a father himself… only it was less that he had children... and more that he had soldiers that he regarded as children. More of an elder brother as opposed to an actual father, what with them being all matured killing machines and all that. A very big all that actually.

Still, he was able to do something what with him being a grown man and all that.

Just had to make sure that he wasn't going to accidently kill himself, Magnus was certainly more powerful than he was, that was for sure.

Just teaching him about human interactions on an individual level was going to be difficult, and Danny wasn't going to be doing much more than that, he wasn't insane after all.

Maybe he could rope in his daughter for this, she would like to spend more time with her new brother, what with him being locked in his little laboratory all the time.

"What do you mean I can't do that! That doesn't… just doesn't make sense!" Magnus roared, his hair flaring outwards as he did so. "Taylor! Tell him that what I did makes perfect sense!" He said, pointing at his sister as he did so.

"Sorry Magnus, you can't just do that, it just breaks the game you know." She said to him, shrugging apologetically as she did so. Her grin belied the fact that she was enjoying this immensely.

"What about you Advisor!?" He said, sounding desperate.

"The rules are the rules Magnus, you can't just break them like that," Lisa said, shrugging her shoulders at him, a small smile on her face. She was shaking slightly, was it cold? Or rather she was shaking because she was trying not to laugh.

"I meant it when I said that you couldn't do that. You are just a sorcerer, you can't just go and threaten a king Magnus." Danny the GM said, his eyebrow raised at the Magnus who was normal sized and sitting on the other side of the table.

"I am Magnus! I am the Master of Magic! How dare this peasant say to me that I cannot do as I like in his library! This is an insult and I demand his head!" Magnus said, his anger palpable.

"Well you are Magnus in real life, but in here you are just a novice sorcerer who just insulted the King. Aaaaand your party has been executed for threatening the king." Danny said, his face apologetic.

Far from feeling too bad about it all, Lisa and Taylor were too busy laughing at Magnus.

"I… I… Guh. This is stupid!" He said growling angrily as he did so.

"It's stupid and it's the rules Magnus, you can't cheat the rules."

"Fine! I demand a redo." Magnus said, sitting back down and glowering at the table.

"Ok. Let's start this again, we'll do this from the beginning. Magnus, do you want to reroll your character?" Danny asked, giving him the benefit of the reroll.

"Why? I am Magnus! I am the Sorcerer as is my birthright!" He said, looking at Danny with a confused expression on his face.

"You could do that, or you could design a character that is all about something that you would never be able to do in real life," Lisa said, helpfully interjecting her opinion in.

"Wait. Do you mean for me to lie about myself? Blasphemy!" He said, looking outraged.

"You are only doing it for this campaign Magnus, no-one will ever know about it except for us. This isn't real life Magnus, it's just a game." Taylor said, patting him on the arm as she did so.

Magnus sat back with a thoughtful expression on his face, one that said he was thinking very hard about this.

"What are we doing in here?" Came, the voice from outside of the door. The four of them looked up to see Sergeant Black, Colonel Knight, Hurosius and Maxine in the doorway.

He should have expected it really, what with the 4 of them suddenly disappearing somewhere, it was bound to have raised a few alarms.

They were inside Danny's room currently, there wouldn't be any space in Magnus', Lisa… was doing whatever it was girls did, and Taylor's was basically a giant garden at this point, there would be very little space to put the board if he wanted to have one on.

"We're playing some dungeons and dragons! Do you want to join in?" Taylor asked forgetting that she was a Primarch for a second and that they would have to accept. Danny hid a grin, this was going to be more interesting that was for certain.

It would take a little for them to break out of the idea that all things had to end up a certain way, but it would be educational no doubt. Some good old fashioned party wipes and extreme anger at Magnus would hopefully break them out of the state of reverence they had of the Primarch. It wasn't good for him and he wasn't developing as a proper person due to it.

"Um… yes. Count me in." Said Sergeant Black, quick on the uptake as always.

"What the fuck is this shit! I am a Catachan! What the fuck! How did I fucking miss!" Black roared, his face split into a rage as he stared accusingly at the dice on the table before him.

Danny had decided to not use the D&D ruleset so much, rather he was using the Warhammer 40k rulebook. And Black just failed his attack roll.

"You rolled less die than what was needed to kill the goblin," Lisa said rather helpfully, ignoring the glare sent her way by Black.

"Hoh. It looks like Sergeant Black isn't as good with his knife as he thought he was hmmm? What a surprise." Maxine chortled, hand over her mouth as she laughed.

"Ha. That's not what you said…" Black stopped, the bread roll that bounced off his forehead thrown by Danny was enough to give him pause.

"There are innocents present." Danny reminded him, glancing from the corner of his eye at Taylor's blush.

There was a moment of silence before a fist hitting a palm cracked through the room.

"That was a sexual innuendo! I understood that!" Magnus said, eliciting many groans from around the room.

Sometimes… sometimes he could be so extraordinarily dull when it came to things, couldn't he?

Ignoring the chuckles and the even harder blush on his daughter's face, Danny pushed forward.

"Well, that concludes your turn, Sergeant Black. Hurosius?" He asked looking at the robed figure sitting/standing/whatever he was that was next to Sergeant Black.

"I elect to remain in place for this turn and to unleash my Servo-Automata at the enemy Goblin and strike it in the name of the Omnissiah." He said, his electronic voice crackling with delight.

"Ok, then roll for me a technology check," Danny said. Sure it was Dungeons and Dragons, but after a lengthy debate by Hurosius about why there should be tech-priests as they were called in the world, he had finally agreed. Sure it was a little strange but it was better than having the figure storm out of the room in a fit of beeps and boops.

"I am rolling the…" He was stopped by Danny.

"Hurosius… where did those die come from?" Danny asked, his eyebrows raised.

"They were requisitioned," Hurosius said.

"And what did I say about using foreign die?"

"That we weren't allowed to use them." Grumbled Hurosius, dropping the die on the table and taking the ones that Black gave him.

"I now roll for the activation of my Servo-Automata! A 3+ skill check!" He said, cackling with glee as his wizened hands shook the die in his hands and rolled them onto the table.

Snake eyes.

"I'm sorry Hurosius, but it looks like a fail," Danny said as Hurosius screamed in impotent rage. Or at least he assumed it was a scream, after a certain point the pitch increased to the point where he couldn't hear it anymore.

"Ok, next is Lisa. What do you want to do this turn?" Danny asked. His eyebrow was raised in anticipation for whatever game breaking bug what she was going to try and play next. Her power really did give her an unfair advantage when it came to things like this.

"I elect to remain in place for my turn and attempt to talk the Goblins into giving us what they want," Lisa said with a perfectly straight face. Ignoring the scandalized gasps and objections from the Imperial side of the table.

"You can't do that! They're goblins! They're just one step below Orks! You can't just negotiate with Orks!" Black said, sounding scandalized.

"They are perfectly rational beings." Counted Lisa, grinning that grin of hers that said she knew exactly what it was she was doing.

"I… I forbid this! We cannot be fraternizing with the enemy!" Shouted out Colonel Knight. Her knight had been knocked unconscious by an orgy of violence that 3 Goblins sneaking up behind her had accomplished... much to her own anger.

"Too late! Am rolling aaand oooh. Victory." She said grinning as she did so. "Speech check passed and now we are friends with the Goblins," Lisa said with malevolent enjoyment.

Danny smiled, well at least the ice was broken.

2 more tonight to dump before next arc

George12

Dec 10, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 39 PRT

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George12

OAMU

Dec 10, 2016

#460

Dumping these 2, not as well edited as could be. Need them before tomorrow and dont want a 5 chap dump.

His name was Francis Makinpak.

He was known to be… excitable when things happened that were particularly interesting.

For example, when he saw the Daemon Primarch for the first time, or rather the regular Primarch that wasn't actually corrupted by Chaos, he just sort of looked like it… because he was red.

Seriously, don't make yourself one of the biggest colours of chaos then complain about being like... thought of as Chaos you know?

Anyway, Francis was here to do an important job.

A very important job.

He was currently inside of a Valkyrie that was about to fly up and like deliver him right into whatever it was he was being sent to.

He wasn't paying attention to the briefing since you know… it was a fucking Valkyrie and he was allowed to get into it.

Like seriously, was there anything more awesome than this?

Well besides getting into a Mobile Suit and riding one of those bad boys around. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon so he was going to like… not do that and focus on the things that he could do.

Like riding a giant VTOL that could fly in space and kick major ass because he was awesome like that.

Francis closed his eyes as the VTOL's bays closed and the rest of the squad settled themselves in.

"Ok boys and girls. This is your first time flying with the Phantine Air Corp, we totally get that you are feeling just a little nervous. But I need you guys to pay attention because if you don't, then we are going to have some serious problems in here." Said one of the flight crew. He had come back from the front and was now standing in front of them. He looked… different from what Francis was expecting. Like he was wearing black, pure black, like a baggy kind of overall thing with a bit helmet thing on. The kind that you would expect astronauts to wear.

"First! I need you to grab the rebreathers that are about to drop down from the roof [he slammed a button on the side of the entrance to the cockpit at that.] and then make sure to put them on so that you have a proper seal on your face. Like so, [he pulled off his own helmet and strapped a little oxygen rebreather mask thing without the cable onto his face sideways to demonstrate.] make sure to strap it in tight and if you are wearing anything that might obstruct the rebreather, take it off and then you can put it on again after you put on the rebreather. Remember, this high up, if you are not properly strapped in, if the atmosphere is vented, you will die. I don't want a death on my baby since you're probably going to shit your pants as well and I hate cleaning that shit up. So don't fuck this up." He said walking over to each of them and making sure that they had done it properly.

He peeled a few of them off and put them on personally, some people seriously. Francis was wondering why they weren't as awesome as he was and had it on perfectly…

"Seriously mate?" Hmm, what?

Francis looked up and the man was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Francis had no idea why he would be doing that, his mask was on perfectly.

"I said to make sure there was nothing in the way, why the fuck are you wearing it over your helmet?" Oh… wait. Had he done that? Oooh… that was bad.

"Sorry." Mumbled Francis as he made sure to put it on properly this time.

"Well, fuck me sideways, you lot might just make it out of this one alive. Now that you're all strapped in facewise, strap yourselves in with the restraints. They're solid plasteel, you won't be going anywhere with one of those babies on you." He said walking down the rows again to make sure they were doing this right.

They were seated in 2 rows of seats that were facing into each other. He assumed this was a passenger craft instead of a drop one since there were like 12 of them inside of it.

Francis pulled his own down from above his head, making sure to pull it all the way down. He didn't want to screw this one up.

A little click and he guessed this was the proper one. Perfect?

"Ok, none of you'se have fucked that up so we're moving to the next level here. Place your arms on the little armrests and make sure to grip the little handle. We are not responsible for any arms and legs that get broken in transit ladies and gentlemen. We're lifting off in 2 more minutes, don't be getting up or we're going to leave you behind." He said as he turned and walked his way out of the passenger compartment and to the front where he was probably doing pilot things.

As for Francis he was clenching his fists in anticipation.

Orbit!

From what he had heard of the little briefing thing, they had gotten inside of the Valkyrie while it was still on the hangar levels and then it was going to be carried to the top floor of the Spire on a special elevator and then they were going to launch it straight from there.

Only up there, there was like nearly no air so they had to be careful of they could die from the lack of it… air deprivation? Like the opposite of the bends. Francis didn't know, what did they think he was?

Still, he was itching in anticipation. Ready to deploy oooooh yes. Sooon.

There was a shudder as the Valkyrie started moving and he nearly laughed out loud. Yes. This was is.

He felt the entire thing moving as it was being taken to the elevator, another shudder and he felt a weight on his chest from above.

Yeeeees. Here they gooooo!

Franci was beside himself with excitement.

"Hang on boys and girls, we're lifting off. Hold on tight now."

Yeeeeeees!

"Here we go, boys and girls. Hang tight now."

Yeeees.

He felt the Valkyrie being tilted upward, ready for an accelerated launch.

Yes.

He grinned.

Oh yes.

As the ship rumbled and every part of his body felt like it was being shaken to pieces, Francis was doing everything he could to not whimper in delight. He grinned at what was about to happen and it was going to be glorious.

The feeling of his body being pressed into the side of the bar told him that they were accelerating and he was just waiting for the feeling of…. Here.

The prolonged shudder, the rattling of little bits and pieces that made up the interior of the Valkyrie, the chattering of teeth and then the quiet. They were up in space. They were drifting and they were coasting.

What would happen next was the craft would accelerate over the planet before dropping down at a steep angle to the city that they were heading into. He wasn't sure… he didn't care. He had his little jolly and was not satisfied.

The Chimera was a… generous vehicle. As in it was quite large on the inside now that Francis thought about it.

He wasn't sure exactly why they had one of these here, but it was nice that was for certain. The guy chanting to the engine and praying and lighting candles everywhere was kind of fucking scary but it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened.

Like… he could have been using those giant tentacles that probably connected to his spine or something to walk around like Doctor Octopus… because that wouldn't be scary at all.

Seriously, the red robed guy that was just chanting away was kind of fucking terrifying and he was wondering just what they should have done to deal with him.

Good thing then that he wasn't coming with them on this one, it was just them, a Chimera, a Hellhound Chimera that had been fitted with a foam cannon… somehow… and there was a riot or something in the city.

Francis didn't care, he was just going to do his job, he was going to get back on a Valkyrie and he was going to enjoy his life. Because that was how people did their shtick.

Yes.

Yes, sir.

As it trundled along the city, Francis considered the possibility that he was going to get to use his new gun. His awesome new gun. It was a grenade launcher… but with foam grenades. Because that was the best of all the guns.

Francis was a simple man with simple desires and simple pleasures. Just give him what he wanted in life and he would be perfectly content to do nothing but enjoy that something for all time.

Which coincidently he was about to do.

"Ok listen up. We've got what looks to be a massive attack by The Teeth on the surrounding area and we've been called into help. Whatever you do, do not kill the Butcher, and make sure to hit those gang members of theirs before they get in close. They aren't accurate but they've got automatic weapons which are going to hurt. You've got those new flak vests from the Princess' Guard so you should be fine, just don't risk it. Don't want to see you boys taken out of the equation now do we?

"The foam hound's gonna be following behind us to provide fire support, make sure to stay out of its front arc of fire. It reaches out to 50 meters so pay attention to the splash and take out anything that might try to disable or destroy it. We're not trying to push into the Teeth here, just knock them back so they don't try this again.

"Any questions?" The Sergeant was sitting down while he was talking and Francis couldn't see him, but the words just slammed into his ears in such a way that it felt like he was right next to him. Fun.

"No Sir!" Was the reply from the squad. Even Francis joined in.

"Zone's hot boys. We've got fire coming in from the front, I'll shield for as long as I can but don't be too hopeful, too bad you boys don't have permission to go lethal because this is looking like a fucking freakshow." Said the driver. Francis frowned. This wasn't how you were supposed to encourage people…

"Ok. Lights green boyos, hop on out, you've got work to do." Said the driver, Francis could hear the laughter in his voice.

The Chimera had a machine gun on it which had been refitted from the laser gun. Which made sense, they didn't want people to reverse engineer the lasers right? That would just be really bad.

Still, Francis had a job to do and he might as well get to it.

Joy.

Hopping out of the Chimera, Francis moved to the rear of the line, everyone was trying to hide behind the thing but they were being attacked from what looked like windows high up in the apartments to the front. On the ground, he could see police and more PRT that were being pinned down.

Thankfully it looked like they were limited to just the one building. Something that probably meant that they were being cordoned in successfully. Good on the PRT… of which he was a part of.

Good on him.

Francis considered that maybe… he had a foam launcher… and they were right there.

What… what if he just shot at them? Maybe block the windows?

That was a genius idea!

Just angle it just right, roughly 50 meters… ok.

He pulled the trigger and… oh woops. Too low. Just avoided some trooper... OK, a little higher.

And pop.

Francis grinned as the windows began to get covered and the incoming fire lessened.

He was helping!

George12

Dec 10, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 40 Rose

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George12

OAMU

Dec 10, 2016

#461

Rose Parker was a nurse.

One might say that she had been born a nurse. The way she had just taken care of everyone around her, patching them up, making sure they didn't die from the various wounds they had taken.

Particularly grievous ones she could remember was the one where Fred had chipped his tooth, where Bob had scrapped his right knee on some pavement, when Ted had strained a wrist from falling out of a tree… major wounds. Ones that a little booboo magic wouldn't help.

It was a vocation and she had signed up for it the moment she had graduated, the hours had been long, the student debt even longer, and now it was totally irrelevant since she was being employed as a nurse here inside of the new Brockton City Medical Center.

The only thing was… was that it was massive.

As in it took up an entire Hab Block as they were called and those were hundreds of meters long on all sides, each one could fit thousands of people inside of them.

And the Brockton Medical as they had taken to calling it certainly could do that. In fact, they had been so limited by space that they had to expand the staff to cope with it, the Engiseers of the Princess providing what were basically floating robotic servants that certainly helped. Pushing carts to important areas, making sure that things were stocked, providing remote monitoring of patients and everything else. It had made her life easier that was for sure.

But only… slight problem being the fact that the size meant that they were running around the entire thing trying to get their work done.

The floating robots were good, but they needed more boots on the ground. It was going to be hard to try and attract the talent Rose had thought but that was completely wrong.

Rather what had happened was that in the space of a few weeks there were dozens of doctors all clamouring for permission to be part of Brockton Medical. The fact being that the Medicae that had arrived and were offering lessons on how to treat things that modern science had battled for the longest time had something to do with it.

As for Rose, she was enjoying the entire experience, it was like getting a new lease on life. Her work life was great, being able to heal, being able to cure, being able to do so much more than what she had before certainly helped.

After all how many times had she been there in the hospital, trying desperately to stem the bleeding of one patient with her hands while another was in the surgery room getting their heart beating again? How many had been lost simply because they didn't have enough hands, their facilities weren't modern enough, they didn't have enough room? All the problems had seemingly been solved thanks to the Princess and Rose couldn't thank her enough.

Hell, that wasn't all, she had changed the way the entire city worked. As in it actually worked now.

Each Hab Block had a bus stop with a bus that was very simply a massive engine of greatness. It went to the stops, it went there fast, and it didn't stop for nothing because there were so few cars on the road. The Hab Blocks had everything after all, what was the point of having a car when everything was just a few steps away?

The public transport had been revamped entirely, the city's infrastructure had been revamped, she hadn't seen a single crumbling sidewalk that was for sure, and the entire feeling of the city was different.

Brockton had been a city where hope came to die. Where people just did what they did because they were just going through the motions. Where people were joining gangs because they saw no other options, where people were simply leaving… quietly.

The city was dying and now? Now it was something else entirely. For that alone Rose was grateful to the Princess, she had been born here and to see it revitalise itself was certainly something to behold.

But of course, it being the Princess, that wasn't all.

The Princess' Guard had ensured that there would be law and order. Very serious law and order. There wasn't going to be anymore of the "live and let live" mentality going on, every single law had to be obeyed or you were going to be punished for it. And you were going to be punished heavily.

The Princess' Guard had said that they would ensure that the city was as safe as it could possibly be and they certainly kept that promise.

Patrols of the ones on horseback were a constant sight, over head there were the big jets flying out and about, floating here and there to get a closer view of a situation before either dropping down or leaving again. If there was an emergency of any kind there would be those tanks without the turrets rolling up to deal with it, fire, injury, whatever. It didn't matter, they would be on hand to help and that in itself was amazing.

The Spire was certainly no slouch either. For Rose and so many of her coworkers, the Spire was like a giant middle finger to what had been the fate of Brockton Bay. Instead of slowly dying, it was like the city wanted to sent the message that it would only go kicking and screaming. The constant flights of jets in and out of it sending a loud and clear message that Brockton was alive. The bright white and shimmering gold paint reflected in the sun told of the future that Brockton had, a future that was going to be as bright and glorious as it could possibly be.

For Rose, that was certainly enough. She didn't ask for much, she just wanted a city that was happy, a job that was fulfilling, and the chance to change a life.

The Princess had delivered on that and more.

The only thing that was possibly… different… was the way in which the city was all… the same.

There wasn't enough greenery and what was there was the kind of stuff that you would usually find on like a flowerpot or something.

The Princess' Guard clearly did not have a very good appreciation of the finer things in life… like greenery and nice things and maybe things that weren't so… dull.

Not that Brockton really had much of that in the first place, more like it had a few trees here and there but they seemed to be wilting along with the city, just… scraggly little trees that did nothing to create shade or even to look pretty.

If there was an award for trees they would be getting the participation awards.

As Rose walked along the little walkway halfway above the Hab Blocks, all of them connected allowing for multiple levels of travel, all the better to reduce congestion, she pondered just how pretty the city would look if it had proper plant life, vibrant greens and the like to take away the rough edges of the Hab Blocks themselves.

The walkway was exposed to the sun and it could get just a little unbearable in the middle of the day when the metal began to radiate heat… like an oven.

They were all built in the style of… the rest of the things that Rose had seen of them. Just giant… towering… things. They were rather, old looking, the kind of architecture that you would see in a Victorian building and the like. The kind of buildings that served very nicely for things like… looking old and looking statuesque. Not so much for living inside.

They looked far too imposing and scary for that particular line of thinking.

Not that she was complaining mind you, she certainly was not complaining about being given a free apartment that was so much more than her previous. One that was filled to the brim with the the little knick knacks that she had purchased to… make up for the gaping hole that used to be her collection. The hole that had been caused by the very large and very violent rampage of Leviathan.

The little stores had sold them with those things that were called luxury coupons, a little trade here and there, and she was back to full power. The stuffed toys, the little pieces of ceramic, the sculptures, all of it giving her room a very lived in and cozy feel.

If only the rest of the city could be the same. It would be beautiful she was sure.

Rose kept walking only to stop when the speakers embedded into all the buildings (vox casters they were called), began to speak.

"All citizens. Move yourselves, away from the walls. I repeat. Move yourselves, away from the walls of your hab blocks, and the side of the road. You have been warned." Said what sounded to be a very… dry and metallic voice. Probably one of those Servo Automata, only why it was speaking in the first place was strange.

Still, in the land of the superpowers, Rose didn't get where she was by being an idiot. She moved over to the middle of the walkway and held her bag with both hands, eyes furtively casting about trying to find something that might explain just what was happening.

She looked down and the very stable walkway no longer looked so stable, in fact, it looked as if it were distinctly unstable.

Rose took a deep breath and crouched down, keep her head down, her arms around her knees, her body tucked in tight. It was a good thing her scrubs were loose enough or she would look like an idiot. She also didn't want her skirt to burst again because that hadn't been embarrassing… maybe. Maybe she wore scrubs to work for a reason...

Rose took a deep breath and let it out.

Deep breaths then let it out.

And. Oh wow.

There was no rumblings, no sound of things falling down, no sounds at all to indicate what was happening except for the slithering of what she assumed was wood against concrete.

Out of the sides of the buildings, out of ground in the little holes, she had assumed were for future trees… trees that now stretched high into the sky, twisting around, trees of a kind of colour that she had never seen before. Their leaves were vibrant reds, purples, greens, as if it were an explosion of expression.

But that wasn't all, the trees that emerged from the buildings all coiled around the buildings themselves, all growing larger, wider, longer, looking less like they were trying to constrict the structures and more like that they were trying to hold them up.

The walkway itself was surrounded by little vines, their leaves splayed out to hide those below from the heat, some of them were even dispersing little droplets of mist to cool down those making the journeys.

High above the city the largest of the trees were deploying what looked to be massive leaves, leaves that were thin enough to let light through, but not enough light that it was blinding.

The entire city in turn, looked as if it were no longer a dull, grey/white/gold collection of cubes, but rather what looked to be an enormous forest city. One that was home to life, vibrant and colourful.

Happy.

It was a city that was happy and Rose was very happy herself to be here, this certainly was everything she had thought would be impossible and she had to pinch herself to make sure that it wasn't a dream.

The entire city had come to life and she was very much one very impressed little cookie.

If this was going to be what the rest of the world was going to be like, she could see many people indeed clamouring for the Princess to go to their cities.

She could create shade, regulate temperatures… anything that a plant could do.

Rose was hurrying along now, what had she done to the hospital? The colour would certainly bring new life to the patients, but some of them had allergies!

(They were safe. You can rest easy)

Last edited: Dec 13, 2016

George12

Dec 10, 2016

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Threadmarks 050 And the World Turns

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George12

OAMU

Dec 11, 2016

#466

Lisa Wilbourn, formerly Sarah Livsey, now often referred as the First Hand was sitting in on what might be the most important meeting of her life. Or rather the most important meeting of her life today.

She had been to several of these things already and it was not exactly the greatest feeling that was for sure.

How they handled these meeting was paramount to the continued survival of the Princess' Guard, they were powerful, yes, but they were not powerful enough to withstand the combined might of the world… yet.

It was therefore with not the smallest amount of irritation that she had to sit in on each of these meetings, using her powers to get an advantage over that of hose on the other side. Their goals were very simple, hold off the world until the Princess was powerful enough that it didn't matter what their own objections were, while at the same time buying enough time for the alternative plans would come to fruition.

The plans calling for the continued and rather rapid expansion of the Princess' economic might, a power that would allow for her to bring nations under her control without actually needing agreements from the leadership. They would have their cities, their towns, their villages, their people willingly ceding themselves to the Princess' control with but a word, each of them desiring a small bite of the Imperium.

Lisa could tell that what they were doing was having an effect, a very large one if the reactions of the various leaders was any indication.

Their demands that they stop flooding the markets with their "uncertified" technology. They were very careful with their words, of course, it would not do to offend the Mechanicus, the ones known for fielding Titans to crush worlds that were guilty of tech heresy. Using words like "cheap", "untested", or "dangerous", would be done at their own risk.

They were trying of course to stop the Princess'… city? Her economy? Her nation? There was little that could be used to describe just what the Princess had. A Hive City that was under construction? A regular city in Brockton Bay that was still nominally under control of the United States?

Her Economic Apparatus would do for now.

Her economic apparatus was constructing so many different technologies inside of Brockton Bay that it was rather ridiculous in Lisa's opinion. They were building power packs that somehow were powerful enough that they were able to power a household merely by being in the sun for a few hours. It was quite simply physically impossible, as in literally impossible, but like so many other things that involved the Princess, reality merely stepped aside and in this case it knelt down before her.

They were constructing much more, of course, all of it carefully planned in such a way that they would be able to cover the entire world in their products. Relying not on luxury goods, but those that had a more direct impact on the lives who purchased them. Items for people to purchase cheaply in this time of uncertainty.

Power generation, water generation, all of this and more. Items that were able to last for thousands of years, items that were ridiculously easy to make compared to the rest of the Princess' technology. Ones that were a mere representation of what the Princess was capable of, ones that were not playing by the "rules" that the rest of the business world played by.

There was no planned obsolescence here, there was no cheap material, each little item as well constructed as that of the gearbox of an Emperor Class Titan.

The business' were suffering and unfortunately for Lisa this meant that they were leaning on their politicians to come forward and try to… "reason" with the delegation present for these calls. An attempt to try and force them to stop their initial plans, attempts that were going to be going up against the Princess herself.

She had not been happy when planned obsolescence had been explained to her, nor had she been happy when it was explained just how the world worked, those with the money made the rules, often to the detriment of everyone else.

Oh no, she had been very unhappy about that.

The Princess had ordered the flooding of the markets with as many cheap items as they could produce in Brockton Bay, the initial levels of the Hive City, tentatively named Africa's Hope, and the manufactorums on Mars. It wouldn't destroy them economically, no that was for the next stage of the plan, but this early on? It was going to be pinching their metaphorical ankles very hard and they were going to be very very afraid of what was coming next.

They weren't even able to deny the import of the goods, lack of registration, lack of copyright, lack of anything at all. The people were taking this to be an extension of the hope that the Princess was bringing and one city wide riot was enough for them to understand that trying to ban the goods, improper certification or not was a sure fire path to seeing the civilian populace rising up against them.

It was made worse by Hurosius' little plan which had been put in place very recently. That of using many many small Machine Spirits to bring up the public awareness of what the Princess was doing at all times on the internet. It turned out that creating unintelligent little commenters was actually extremely easy. Merely taking the brains of those that had been condemned to death by the Arbiters, do some technological thing to them that required far too many knives and needles for Lisa's stomach and you have a functioning quasi-artificial intelligence.

The info war was on the way and the tens of thousands of accounts posting, commenting, voting and linking were enough to drive the Princess' PR campaign to new heights. The surprising part of it all being that it was just so… easy to do. A comment perhaps on the predictive nature of humanity? There were so many of them, spread so far out that anyone trying to call them out were able to be struck down by others in the comment sections and the like by "unaffiliated" commenters.

Lisa smiled at that little thought, the Princess was shaking up the world and it was in a way that she hadn't thought would happen.

Still, she had one more meeting to sit through. With… umm.

The one with the Nazis… had been interesting. Trying in some way to convince them about… allowing them to exist. Saying that they were stabilising influences on Europe and the like. It was just too bad that Maxine had not given them the time of day, they were failures as human beings, they had betrayed the human race in her words. Lisa tried very hard not to grin at that.

Now then, next meeting hmm?

Oh.

Darth Putin. That… that wasn't quite what she expected but that was doable. It was not as if she had any preferences but a Thinker as the head of a country? Well, that was something she hadn't expected to see outside of Africa.

Just what Russia wanted with the Princess was not something that Lisa could claim to understand. However, there was a marked buildup of their military in the East in Moscow in particular. Something was happening and it was likely linked to this meeting.

Were they planning on declaring war on the Princess? It would be particularly foolish, but she could understand why they had decided to do.

Russia was ruled by the Oligarchs in the shadows, they who controlled the primary resource industries and would stand to lose much if the Princess were to gain power. Whether or not they possessed enough power to force the President to declare war on the other hand, was yet to be seen.

Lisa answered the call and found herself looking at the man that was Darth Putin, also known as regular Putin. At her side was the presence of Maxine, or rather Lisa was at the side of Maxine, she was tertiary in this situation.

On the other side of the screen of the Pict-monitor as the Imperium called it, out of sight, was Konrad, ready to send the thoughts that Lisa sent through their link to Maxine. She wasn't quite good enough to do the whole "telepathic communications" thing… not yet at any rate.

Well then, time to do some thinking then. The number of meetings had been limited due to her own inability to do much more than 5 hours of straight "thinking". A boost over what she had been able to do previously, but not enough of one to do this permanently. She wasn't quite good enough for that.

"What can we do for you, Mr Putin?" Asked Maxine, hands before her, looking like the model negotiator… if not for her standard clothing revealing more about the female anatomy than Lisa had in anatomy. Not that she was jealous or anything.

"What can you do for me? It is very simple. We of the Russian Federation wish to pledge ourselves to the Princess." He said, sounding as if he were the most relaxed man in the world, As if he had not just… done something that decided the future of his people with a single sentence. Or possibly… he probably had to do a referendum to ratify it… but if he was saying it. It was as good as done.

Truth - Genuinely wants to be part of the Princess' Empire - Believes it to be natural state of affairs - Believes it to be inevitable - Does not wish to fight it - Believes people are willing - Believes the Princess is the logical conclusion to the path Russia is taking - Willing to do whatever is necessary to bring Russia to the Imperium

Lisa hid her grin… something that was very very difficult when she considered the momentous nature of Putin's declaration. It looked like the Princess had one less nation to conquer. Only there was a slight fuzziness to the answer, a fuzziness that said that what she had gotten may not have been the whole truth which was rather worrying in itself. A concern… but then again Darth Putin was a Thinker as well.

~He is being genuine~

Lisa sent a message across to Konrad who dutifully relayed it to Maxine, who in turn was looking rather… well, the same as always. She did have a ridiculously good poker face. Lisa should know, she hadn't beaten her yet and that was just the slightest bit frustrating.

"What can you do to prove that you are being genuine?" Maxine asked, her voice level.

"We will hold a referendum immediately regarding the inclusion of Russia into the Princess' Empire. A regiment had been made up of Russia's best and is waiting for immediate deployment to assist the Princess wherever she might be." He finished smiling slightly.

Genuine - Regiment is real - Believes it to be made up of Russia's best - Plans for referendum already underway - Planned this

Well wasn't that interesting?

~Truth~

She sent, feeling an answering level of amusement from Konrad.

As for Lisa, she was enjoying herself as well, it was not every day that she got to "duel" another Thinker as it were. Even if he did not know that she was there, it was rather… fun to try and dissect his words, to pit her own power against his own.

It was a game of the highest stakes and to have it come down to her own effort… well, that was something special.

"How far are you willing to go as part of the Imperium?" Maxine asked.

"As far as the Princess will drive us," Putin said, sidestepping the answer neatly. Lisa could see the muscles in Maxine's cheeks twitch microscopically, it looked like she was amused.

Truth - Knows the Princess is a pacifist - Confident that the Princess will not drive his people too far - Confident that she holds the fate of the Russian people in her heart - Willing to trust the Princess

Well, wasn't that just the best little bit of news? He knew about the Princess in that much depth? There hadn't been any links, that was impossible, what with the Princess being so locked up in the various little bases across the world. At the same time he couldn't have a power that allowed for direct information gathering like her own, the Princess was protected by her own power. He must have some kind of ability that allowed him to look at the actions of the Princess and analyse them in some way perhaps. Her very few public appearances apparently enough for him to get what he wanted in regards to the information.

Oh well, he was genuine and she could ask him when they inevitably met to discuss terms… or to accept Russia's joining of the Princess.

That was going to be fun.

Telling the Princess she now had a country… One of the biggest in the world in terms of landmass…

At least the Valhallans would be happy.

George12

Dec 11, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 41 Gifts

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George12

OAMU

Dec 11, 2016

#467

The poor of Boston were… better off.

The Princess had arrived on their planet and was doing Princessy stuff and it had turned out for the better.

At least for them.

The simple fact of the matter being that the Princess' Guard had at some point arrived in Valkyrie in locations all over the city, dropped off boxes with basic instructions then left again. These same boxes contained inside of them what appeared to be generators to keep them warm at night, to provide light, to provide internet access and it was able to recharge by simply being in the sun.

In the winters it would prove to be something that was ridiculously useful and it was a very big wonder as to exactly why it was that this was being given to them. It was not as if the Princess was a politician that needed their vote to get herself into power, rather she had all the power, what could be gained from this?

Max pondered the question as he sat in front of the little generator, his hands being warmed by the heat that it gave off, a steady little wave that warmed him just right. He and the others that usually joined him in trying to find a shelter for the night were sitting out in the open here, the generator providing for them overhead cover as well as the heat. All you needed to do was place it in a corner somewhere and it would hem them in, keep them warm with the little sheets that extended out, like a big radiator.

It was amazing, it was comforting and Max wondered just why nobody else had thought of something like this. They could make some big bucks that was for sure.

That wasn't all either, the Guard had given them massive boxes filled with rations. Sure they tasted like ass, but it was free food and a single pack was enough to keep them fed for the entire day. It was a godsend and it sure kept quite a few from going hungry that was for sure.

Max had been relieved of the burden of trying to stay alive for the first time in quite some time. The way that the all consuming need to stay alive just ate away at you was something that just kept you in a haze where all you have to think about from day to die was how much food was available, how much energy was needed to get to the next food stop, where he could sleep, what he could do to just go just a bit longer.

The way that your dignity fell apart, the way that in the end, you weren't even a real person anymore but something that was to be ridiculed and considered a burden on society. It sapped at your mental strength and something, it just got a little too hard to bear.

But for the Princess' Guard to do this… well, this was something else. Sure they got the one or two dollars that came from those that were feeling guilty, but there was no real systemic need to help, all of it being couched in terms that told them that they were just worthless and they should feel grateful for what they were given.

For the Guard to do this without even asking for anything, they didn't even bother speaking to them, just dumping the crates and leaving. Everything that they had to go on was the information included.

Which admittedly was plenty.

They had quite explicitly noted that those trying to profit off the generators would be treated as if they were the enemies of mankind. Which in simple terms meant that it was likely that they were going to die rather painfully. Or so the pamphlets said.

For Max and so many others this gave them hope sure there was the threat of the Endbringers, but what did that matter when living day to day was a struggle? That they were just unable to find work, unable to do anything but beg. Those were the immediate concerns, not some tiny chance that an Endbringer would come and strike at them, no, that was far too abstract and removed for them to care. For them, it was the concern that the Princess was offering to solve the problems of the now and that dug deep into their minds.

The first kernels of worship had been planted and the Princess had gained yet more followers… even if they didn't know it yet.

For they of the Nieto family, the Princess had done much to assist them with their day to day living. It was a small matter true, but it was a matter that for them had much to do with the continued survival of the family.

The drug cartels had only ever grown stronger over time, the demand for drugs skyrocketing as the people demanded an escape from the dread that was settling in. The knowledge that the Endbringers were an ever present threat, that the Parahumans were doing so much more than what the government could ever stop, that the world was just slipping beyond their control and for the worse. That their fates were tied to this fact, that they were going to be falling apart and there was nothing they could do about it.

The demand for drugs had risen as a very natural result and the Cartels had become immeasurably powerful as a result. The governments existed but merely as fronts to legitimize the drugs, both of them fighting a half-hearted war of some kind. A way to pretend that they were trying to do something. Something to keep the population pacified. The Parahumans were in control of the Cartels, holding the power over the country itself.

It was into this that the Princess delivered the first glimmers of salvation, the first small but very concrete examples of the proof that she could and would save them.

She might conquer the world, but that did not matter to them, for the Nieto family the city had been under the control of a warlord for so long that for them it didn't matter who it was that conquered them. It was all the same, one would come in, fight, the streets would be filled with the blood of both sides and then in the end, the new leader would be exactly the same as everyone that had come before.

It was the simple fact of it all.

But this new water purification system, just a little box with a rinsable filter… for them, it was so much more than anything else. The ability to simply place it in the most filthy of places, to have it provide pure water, to have it clean itself, to have it so cheap that even they could afford one… well, the Princess had shown them that it was indeed possible that if she did conquer, that she would be improving their lives.

After all, their children were now going to be able to drink water, to shower, to bathe, to rinse without ever worrying about getting diseases from the water, about dying because of the untreated water that was the city's reservoirs, the little public tap that they were all forced to use.

Indeed, the little purifiers were so cheap that the Nieto family could have one in the first place counted for them like a minor miracle. If it had been something that was worth something, then they would be confiscated and kept for the Warlord's personal use. But when they were as cheap as bread… it did not make much sense for them to not get one.

The unique design, the fact that it was so prevalent, that every family in the city had one, that they were all talking of the Princess as a saviour, as somebody that cared for the people… the Princess was gaining yet more converts.

For they who had been under the thumb of violence for so long, being offered hope… well, they were trying so very hard not to reach out and grab it with both hands. How many times had they been burned? How many mayors had come in with a desire to improve things? How many of them had either been corrupted or left office in a bodybag?

But this… this was proof and for them holding it in their hands was akin to grabbing hope in their own hands.

The Princess was worming her way into their hearts and every time they used the little box with its intricate metalwork, they would be thinking of her.

In the vast bush, the jungle, the brush, the plains, the Valkyries of the Princess were dropping off crate after crate on their little parachutes. All of them swinging down far below, landing in hostile territory, territory that they would soon be taking in the name of the Emperor.

But for now, there was a period of peace, a lull in the fighting. It was into this that the generators for power, the water filters, the water collectors and more were being dropped.

The Guard making it very clear that the standard civilian was going to be well treated, their gifts ensuring that they would be well protected even before the Guard arrived. That after the Guard had arrived, even if there was nothing changing, they would still be able to survive.

It was not exactly published very well, (or not at all) but each of the devices held a teleporter homer. A device that would allow for the Guard to Warp in their units directly next to the various little devices that had been gifted out.

The mentality of the Warlord was something that they were intimately familiar with, the manner in which they would try to steal and hoard all of it for themselves. Areas with the largest concentrations for the homers would naturally be that of the enemy's headquarters, a way for the Guard to be humanitarian while also allowing for a strategic strike at a later date.

Why was this all being carried out? The Princess had decreed that even if they could not help everyone on the world now, their numbers being far too lacking for that, their own men not having the… ability to do so without shooting people, then the most needy would be assisted first.

They who would benefit the most from the Princess' presence would be given what they needed to survive.

To do so while also preventing the Guard from coming into conflict with the world was another question entirely.

Those in power wouldn't want their people to be emancipated in the case of the warlords, after all, their subjects gone, their sources of revenue. To send the Guard in would do nothing but cause conflict and all out war. Something else would need to be done and it had. Sell them the tools, do it cheaply, ensure that everyone would get it and ensure that it was only for the most basic of needs.

It would ensure that lives would be saved, that the Princess' edicts were being followed, and when the time came down to it, conquering the territories would be easier what with the people voluntarily assisting. The Guard would ensure that the people were willing to be conquered even if their leadership was not.

To do that was to win the stomach, the heart, the mind.

It would be difficult that much was for certain but the first steps had already been taken.

As for those in the more affluent parts of the world, putting the Princess into their thoughts would mean that they would be able to spread the name of the Princess, her humanitarian nature, her desire for the betterment of mankind.

It would have a two-fold effect, first the people affected would either migrate to the city of Brockton, or they would remain where they were and speak of the Princess to all those that would listen.

Her own clergy, all of them advocating her greatness, making it easier to pacify the citizenry when it came time to either take by force or through acquiescence.

Every avenue to conquer was being pursued and the Princess would have her world, one way or the other.

George12

Dec 11, 2016

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George12

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Dec 11, 2016

#468

The conflict with the Princess manifested itself in a rather… brutal manner on one day in one year.

The Teeth were planning to arrive and to retake the city. The Butcher trying to find another host. One that possessed the power of a Primarch and was almost immortal, one that would allow for untold power.

The Teeth were therefore, pushing forward to greet the Princess' Guard, trying to slam their way into the city and to level it while the Regiments were away in Africa. Assuming that the Regiments were away… in Africa.

They had received word that they would be safe to do whatever they wanted, they had "backers" that would ensure that there would be no response to the city of Brockton for exactly 1 week. They had 1 week to kill the Princess. Who these backers were nobody knew, but what they did know was that there was going to be a complete media blackout of the city, allowing them to do whatever it was they wanted without fear of repercussions, outside of the usual ones that is.

The Teeth had taken to this potential instruction like a fire to balsa wood, or rather the Butcher had. She wanted a new host, the Princess was a very very good one but Magnus would work as well, and they had everything they needed for it.

Their backers had after all given them the funds to hire more thugs (outside of the many that had already been gifted), weapons, ammunition and vehicles. If they wanted to wage a war… well, now they could. The Teeth were on the road and they were very much ready to do some very major damage.

Revenge for what the PRT backed by the Princess' weapons had done to them in New York.

The Butcher was ready and so were her minions. Those of their ranks didn't quite understand that they were the front of a proxy war, they just thought that there was someone else that wanted the Princess dead because she was a holier than thou bitch.

The Teeth were ready, they were going to use that shitty pacifism of hers and kill her people, make money and then get out after the Butcher had killed her. She wasn't going to shoot them going in, she was too soft for that, it was her hometown, not that shithole Africa. She couldn't afford to shoot them, that would make her look like a murderer in front of the city, and she didn't want that, the weak bitch.

The Teeth were ready to hunt down that prissy bitch.

Unfortunately for them… the Astra Militarum was ready to meet them.

Lieutenant Sable of the 427th Armageddon Steel Legion was a man that was a veteran of Armageddon itself.

The Orks had been battering their heads and their cleavers against the solid plaster and flesh of the Imperial Guard for decades now and Sable had seen the best and the worst of it, his right half being bionic, an unfortunate accident when an Ork Deff Rolla had decided to use him as a ramp.

It would not have been so bad if not for the fact that the Orks could construct vehicles as well as they could draw in straight lines. The thing had exploded and taken half of his body out with it.

His rank had ensured that he would get a bionic replacement, a lucky thing as he would he been given the Emperor's Mercy instead so that he would be wasting resources with his injuries, what with them being largely untreatable when it came down to it, and him being a burden on the Imperium's resources.

He had survived, and now he was here on this world that largely resembled Terra but as if it were several thousand years in the past, did not have the Emperor, and also did have giant monsters that resembled animalistic Titans. Tyranids one might say if not for their distinctive lack of chitin, and lack of feeding, and lack of chittering… maybe not so like Tyranids then.

Regardless, Sable was feeling like this was what one might call a "vacation", something that the truly rich were able to afford in the Hive Cities. As for Sable, he was of the Regiment and he didn't have any idea of what a vacation might be like… but… but this certainly felt like it could be one.

He was certainly enjoying the fact that he did not have to be shooting Orks every day, it was not as if one didn't enjoy shooting Orks, but it certainly did get rather repetitive at times.

His current posting was inside the Auger facilities in Brockton itself, a facility that was a rather large room that hosted the many different data screens that were showing the area around Brockton itself while a holo of the entire planet was floating in the center of the room on the projector installed by the Master Adepts of the Mechanicus.

On it were the various "Endbringers" they were called, all floating about the planet, all doing whatever it was that they were doing. Sable did not profess to know the thoughts of the agents of Chaos and to do so would only invite certain death for himself and those around him. It was best if he merely kept his silence and said nothing, perhaps then he would be able to avoid the fate of having something done to him.

As for Sable, his job was a very simple one. He was not the operators glued to their dataslates (metaphorically glued that is), or the Mechanicus Adepts that were wired into their consoles (literally that is). No, he was simply the man who was to relay the sightings to the appropriate level.

Like right now.

"Sir! We have signs of an enemy skirmishing force moving in from the North!" Was the call.

"Bring it up!" He replied, standing up from his chair as he walked over to the Guardsman that had called it out.

Standing still he gazed at the pict viewer and raised an eyebrow. He counted what was a few squadrons worth of vehicles, but they were the civilian grade vehicles that he had seen the citizens of this city using. Fragile things, they did not even qualify really as military vehicles.

Indeed they would not have if not for the fact that each of them was filled with men and women who were in their hands holding what appeared to be stubbers that the various locals preferred to use over proper weapons like a Lasgun.

A threat… but a minor one.

Still… they were threat that had to be dealt with.

"Give me a line to the North Wall." He said, holding out his right hand, confident that a vox-caster would be placed in it shortly. He had given an order, after all, it was reasonable to assume that there would be someone that would obey it.

He didn't bother informing the local law enforcement, it was merely a matter of an external threat, after all, it was not as if it concerned them.

The Kriegers of the 89th Artillery Regiment had received a call than an unauthorised military unit was attempting to break into the city. They had refused to acknowledge all hails and driven past the checkpoints while engaging the Guardsmen stationed within.

They had been given the order to engage at will. For they of the 89th this was the chance that they had been waiting for. They had been stationed here and had done nothing in that time. While this was not a concern for the Kriegers, they were artillerymen, for them waiting was merely the time in between orders. For them, however, was the fear that they were not as useful as the other regiments, that they were not as worthy.

But now they had a chance to prove to the Princess that they were indeed worthy and that they deserved to be by her side.

"Load!" Came the shout.

They loaded the Stormshard Mortars of their Wyvern Tanks, each one firing a massive airburst projectile that rained sharp and painful death upon all those in the dead zone. Dead because there would be nothing left by the time that the Mortars were done with them.

As the boxes of ammunition, each holding 3 shells were heaved into place, the gun crews placed themselves on standby, the Machine Spirits cogitating a pattern to engage and destroy the targets in the most efficient manner, the battery being linked together to ensure that they would not be wasting ammunition.

8 Wyverns were ready, 36 Mortars, 3 shells per salvo, the enemy in their convoy of an estimated 50 vehicles were doomed, which was rather unfortunate, they would never be able to actually get in close enough to the city for it to matter. The Kriegers if they possessed that much personal freedom might have wondered what their plan was, but it was too late now.

"Fire!" And so they did. Each cannon roaring as the shells were hurled out of the tubes, their distinct shapes causing them to scream as they punched through the air. Anything on the other side would be facing a rain of shrapnel, death merely the first of their punishments for siding against the Princess, their bodies torn to enough small pieces that they wouldn't even be cremated, merely pushed off the side of the road to fertilise the trees the Princess had raised.

The explosions would come first, the shells apart the air as they burst their way down sudden and swift as the death they delivered, the screams following shortly after, a way for those that survived to remember just what had destroyed them and everyone they cared about.

With the first salvo on the way, the Kriegers hurried to load the next, the enemy was using weak civilian vehicles, their armour insufficient to defend against that of the Stormshard Mortar shells, they might as well send a few more salvos to make sure then that the enemy had been destroyed properly, made into mince and steaming viscera.

Lieutenant Sable was considering that things had eased off with the destruction of the convoy. They inside of it had been confirmed dead by a Krieger patrol squad that had checked to ensure that there were no survivors. They were also to repair the road… the Kriegers had gotten rather… enthusiastic. Watching from the Observation Servo Skulls in the sky, Sable had been able to confirm that the road very much did not exist anymore. Nor did the enemy force, their presence had been… well, it had made no sense. Just what did they think would happen when they rode in?

Still, it was over now. He had a few more hours to this shift and then he would be going back to the barracks. He had leave tomorrow, he hoped that there would be a few prostitutes in this city, he had heard they were illegal locally which had him questioning the sanity of those in charge. Still, it was legal under Imperial Law, or rather it wasn't covered at all which meant that they were free to operate if they really wanted to. There wasn't going to be anyone trying to stop them.

Leaning back in the chair, Sable looked up at the ceiling and considered that as boring as this was, it was better than watching squad after squad of his own regiment being torn apart by the Orks, trying to direct reinforcements to where it was necessary, often having to choose between those that were in a more strategically valuable position and those that weren't.

He didn't enjoy that at all and this… this was much better.

"Sir! Possible Demonic Possession!" Came the shout.

Frak.

"Report!" He called out, pulling himself ramrod straight in a matter of moments.

"As for 0500 hours a Death Korps of Krieg soldier rang the alarm of daemon possession to his Commissar and asked to be given the Emperor's Priest. He was part of the patrol to check the wreckage. At 0530 hours another Death Korps of Krieg soldier reported to the same Commissar citing voices in his head driving him to violence, he also heard the voice of the previous Krieger apologising for his weakness. He then isolated himself and incinerated his body with a melta-bomb.

"At 0600 hours, the same was repeated and the Commissar has contacted us with reports of a possible recurring Daemonic possession akin to that of Lucius the Eternal or so the Sanctioned Psyker Konrad names him. The Death Korps of Krieg Barracks has been locked down via Commissariat Order. Assistance requested!" Said the soldier, his voice quivering.

Daemonic incursions were not to be taken lightly.

If worst came to worse this city's pre-planned detonation arrays could be filled with charges and set off to ensure that the city never fell to Chaos.

Hand shaking slightly Sable reached his hand to the Lord Commander of the City of Brockton, Colonel Knight.

George12

Dec 11, 2016

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Dec 12, 2016

#479

Brockton Bay was awoken by the thundering sound of artillery in the morning. Artillery that was different from that which they were used to, but it was over within 10 minutes so they once again fell asleep and the city merely ticked over, yet another eccentricity of the Regiments being revealed before their gaze. Firing artillery in the morning, there was going to be a demand for earbuds soon the more entrepreneurial ones thought, resolving to stock up on them to get that sale.

Only for it to turn out so very differently indeed.

Not two hours later a broadcast emerged from the speakers all over their rooms, from the streets, from the gathering areas, from everywhere that there might possibly be people and even in those areas that there could possibly be none, like the vents for the Servo Automata. Who knew when someone was going to be sneaking through the vents? The Mechanicus did but they weren't telling.

If there was going to be a city wide broadcast, it might as well reach every single part of the city that could fit a human.

"This is Colonel Knight of the Astra Militarum, Lord Commander of this city. I am afraid to inform you that as of 0645 hours the city will be sealed. There will be nobody entering or leaving. Please turn to page 38 of your induction booklets for the exact protocols that you must follow during this period. Ensure that you do follow them citizen, those who disobey will be shot on sight. You will be contacted once the all clear has been given. That is all." Said the voice.

What?

Those that had the booklets nearby (one had been issued to every person inside of the city and to those that arrived) opened them and flipped to page 38. There had been enough of these broadcasts that they were used to this by now, only to have one this early in the morning? This was a pain in fucking ass that was for sure.

Their booklets were to be kept safe at all times, it had all the things they needed to do in the event of the different things that occurred on a regular basis. Like the transferring of a Regiment to Africa which meant that they had to make way and get off the road lest they be shot, of the fact that if they were given the order to evacuate, they had only a small amount of time in which they could do so or else they would probably die if the city was destroyed.

Those of them that could open their eyes enough to read the script did. It was probably going to be something like "don't be on the road while there is a giant fucking tank going down it" or something. Seriously, how stupid did they think everyone was? Like seriously?

If this was the level of intelligence in the Imperium, no wonder they hadn't managed to win their bloody wars. It was as if they had a distinct lack of common sense… like the 'don't eat plastic packaging stickers'… oh, wait.

A few of them sighed, a few of them read and. Oh.

Oh shit.

Very shit, like jumping into a septic tank levels of shit.

Oh god.

IN CASE OF DAEMON INCURSION

It read. Like it was the most casual fucking thing in the world.

Those coherent enough to read more did so and their hands shook further.

Ensure all family members are at the nearest designated public space.

Alert the local defenders to any missing family members.

Check on neighbours, ensure they are all coherent and awake.

Alert the local defenders to any who are unable to wake.

Do not touch those that are unable to wake on their own.

Do not go outside.

Do not bring weapons to the public space.

Do not attempt to fight a daemon.

Do run away from daemons.

A helpful guide to identifying daemons has been included on Page 39.

And so on.

Hands trembled as they read the last words.

Do obey the rules. All those that do not will be shot.

There was a moment of silence before the shouting started, the civilians rushing into the rooms of those of their loved ones, pulling them out of bed as they tried to get some sleep, as they tried to get back to sleep. Pulling them out of bed, roughly pulling clothes onto their bodies and dragging them out to the plazas inside of every Hab Block.

Those with families had a harder time of it but it was not as if they could afford to slack off, they had to get their children out or there was the possibility that they were going to be shot. In a moment of humanity, many rushed on their own to the plazas, rushing to save their own lives, to get there first.

But for others, for many others, it was different. It was a chance for them to demonstrate just how human they were and neighbours rose to answer the call. Entering rooms of others, helping them out, pulling them out of bed, assisting with children, ensuring that they were all safe and pulling them out. Risking their own lives to save that of utter strangers (from the room across the hall.)

It was a possible Daemon incursion and they were not going to be fucking around. Anyone who did deserved to burn in the everlasting fires of the Eye of Terror if they did. And so it was that the people of Brockton bay rushed to survive. Their weekly drills playing a very large part in just why they managed to survive. What had been cursed as a waste of time was not being thanked for getting them out of a fucking awful situation. They had read up on the whole Daemon thing, and being stuck on an 8 sided star and staked, or used in a ritual of some kind was not something any of them wanted to do.

Not now, not ever.

Fuck.

Many fervent prayers were being had, those that didn't follow any religion deciding they might as well pray to the Emperor, it was only an extra word after God after all.

As for the Imperial Guard, they had mobilised with alacrity. They were the best after all and they were going into potential action. There wasn't going to be anything that got past them, the Princess had their promise on that. Officers were receiving orders from Colonel Knight, the need to ensure that they would be heading to the right location paramount.

The daemonic incursion was occurring around that compound that housed the Kriegers, more specifically it was their barracks. The Imperial Guard therefore, was going to be centering their efforts around the barracks while decreasing density the further out they were, if there was going to be anything breaking out, it was certainly not going to get past them.

They had managed to pull a few Bombard mortars from Mars (this Mars not proper Mars) and they were going to be employing them to tremendous effect if the Daemon so much as poked its face outside of the wall because fuck Daemons and fuck them to death (not literally that would be heresy). The entire barracks would be turned to rubble, their inhabitants turned to paste… which would then be burnt in the ever living promethium fires to never again return.

As for the Kriegers they were experiencing what it was like to be in the hands of a constantly jumping Daemon that was hopping from one soul to the next as the previous occupants killed themselves. Their deaths had merely released it into the sky and the one time that it had tried to enter a Sanctioned Psyker's mind, it had been rebuffed so badly that it nearly disintegrated there and then.

It was constantly jumping, it was constantly moving, it was constantly picking away at them, every new host hearing the chants of the Emperor as those before them attempted to save them from the Daemon that had taken them.

It was unsettling, but they were Kriegers, if they could buy time with their bodies then they would do so. They had faith in the Princess to save them.

They arranged themselves in the main square at parade rest, all of the Brockton Bay Kriegers, thousands of them. As the daemon jumped from one mind to the next, they shot themselves at the first sign of there being a voice in their minds.

They would not falter. They would not fail.

As the Regiment was decimated, one in 10 dying as the daemon sped up in possession speed, the Kriegers continued to chant their prayers.

Emperor Protects.

Magnus stood in front of the Sanctioned Psyker that went by the name of Konrad. Interesting little human he was, strong of mind and spirit, yet weak of the flesh, like all psykers that were not foul xeno or Space Marines.

In his hands, he held what Magnus could see was a soul. But… not a soul.

It was… as if someone had given it to an Ork Painboy, allowed him to chop and piece together whatever he wanted and then take it back. Dozens of souls, literal hundreds of them were in the little envelope that was the Materium made malleable. A commendable effort by the man, he had managed to isolate the soul and then trap it into a double sphere of the Immaterium and the Materium. A trick that he would have to take for himself for dealing with pesky little daemons that didn't want to be experimented on.

As for the soul, however, well it was very clear that it was… well, it was something.

He had seen its like before, Lucius the Eternal, a Slaaneshi champion who hunted and killed any who might offer him a challenge. Rumours abounded of his travels deep into Commorragh where he challenged their gladiatorial arenas and emerged victorious. That is to say, he had not personally been involved, but Magnar certainly had.

This… this, however, was different. It was not a single dominant soul but rather many melded together.

He could hear them, or rather he could see them. Inside, the many hundreds of Kriegers were chanting with non-stop abandon, praying to the Emperor in monotonous repetition. Souls did not get tired after all. The minor 14 or so other souls being drowned out by the sheer number of Kriegers chanting in praise of the Emperor.

Magnus pondered the situation before him before turning to his sister. He would have her assent before he did anything, while this was very interesting they were still hers and she did have an attachment to her own, of which there were many inside the little bundle.

"Sister." He began, continuing as she turned to look at him. "This is a collection of souls that has somehow been made into a single entity regardless of what happens to the souls themselves. They are all meshed together into a single entity. I am unable to extract your own without severely damaging the others, at the same time they cannot be allowed to escape as they will attempt to possess others if let free. Do you wish for me to try?" He asked, looking at her. Voice as dry as possible, a test for her as it were, even if she didn't know it.

"What happens to those that are damaged?" She asked, her eyes telling him she already knew the answer to that question.

"There is the possibility that their individualities will be destroyed and they will dissipate forever into the Immaterium, never to join father at his side." He said, laying it out for her as bluntly as possible. One did not attempt to fluff regarding souls, they were far too important for that.

"The alternatives?" She asked after steeling herself. He approved, she as gaining that inner strength that she needed to make the decisions that would call upon her to choose between on trap and the other, one with a frag grenade and the other with a vortex grenade. They were both terrible but one would guarantee survival.

"I destroy all of them to prevent further possessions if they are let free. I keep them all to preserve maximum stability, in my laboratory to explore the nature of their joining. I extract your souls and use the rest for my research, I…" Magnus stopped as she raised her hand to him.

"Please. Magnus. Stop. Just give me a moment here." She said, turning around and pacing around the room.

"I… I want you to take out the souls of my men. Then… then use the rest of it to study how to stop this happening again. Then… then destroy them when you are done, they don't need to suffer more than possible." She said, looking into his eyes as she spoke, her resolution speaking to him.

Magnus nodded at her, for her decision. It was not the most efficient method and likely not one his brothers would have chosen. She knew that this was a valuable opportunity for research, or at least he hoped she did, but it was tempered by the concern she had for her men. She was not fully hardened by the demands placed upon her, he was glad.

"Then I shall begin. Konrad, if you would hold steady I will take the bundle from you." Magnus said, lifting his own massive hand over that of Konrad's upturned ones.

"Yes Lord Primarch, at your pleasure." He said, knowing the etiquette required of him and bringing a sigh to Magnus' head. He didn't want to be reminded about his status, not when he was about to do glorious research.

True they were souls, but he had seen so many millions of them consumed by his father to prevent the Imperium from collapsing and consuming many more quadrillions that he had grown rather used to it… rather callous about it.

But his sister was still innocent and if she wanted for him to save them, it would be no problem. It was not as if he wasn't the greatest Psyker in the Imperium and this could have been done in his sleep.

It was just too unfortunate that he had been too engrossed in his research to notice the oddity above his head. A failing, he had not been that absorbed for a long while.

As he pondered that, Magnus nodded to himself and began the process, time to prove why it was he was the best damned Primarch there was.

George12

Dec 12, 2016

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Dec 12, 2016

#480

The threat of the daemonic incursion had passed and information was being broadcast out. The fact of the matter being that the daemon had the ability to possess people. The ability to jump from one host to the next, carrying with it the voices of those that had been the host earlier.

It was therefore, something that was very much a limited affair, but the way that it was described told those of Brockton that were… better informed, that it was very much a case of the Butcher having come to visit the city.

The understood how the Butcher could be seen as a Daemon, but the fact that it could jump between bodies and not just to the one that killed it last… well, that was something that they did not know about and it was making the rounds on PHO.

That and the overreaction by the Imperial Guard which thankfully had not resulted in any casualties, wounded or dead. It had been resolved by Magnus' arrival and the way he had simply trapped the Butcher while in soul form from ever threatening anyone else again, something to cheer about certainly.

The Imperium did love its heroes, all humans did.

Those that stood out were the subjects of envy and adoration after all.

Regardless, the matter of the daemon had been resolved and for the people of Brockton, it was merely a blip on the radar, just another event that would begin to occur with what was likely an ever increasing likelihood judging from everything else that was probably going to be happening with the Princess in the picture. She was certainly a mover and a shaker, that much was for sure.

For the Princess' Guard, however, things were not so simple. The fact being that the daemon had been sent towards them knowingly. After the fear of "daemon" had worn off, what had happened next was that they were sending their feelers out into what was known as the Internet to discover just what had happened.

A tip by a concerned citizen had them set on the right track, this "Butcher" as she was known certainly embodied the characteristics of the soul that they had encountered, all the way down to the way in which she jumped bodies after death. Only it had not been limited to psykers but instead to all humans, likely the psyker aspect was only a preferential one.

Further research, into more… secure sources, the taps into which were kindly provided by the Phantine Skyborne, had demonstrated what was a very clear picture of the gang that she led. It was known as The Teeth and it should have barely 30 members in total. What had been demonstrated was far more than that, far more than what they should have been able to muster even on their best day.

Something had happened, something had changed. The fact that they were attacking the city at all was proof of that.

Concerns were raised and Hurosius and his Engiseers were mobilised into action, turning the Cogitators inside of the Spire of Unity to full power. It would shorten their lifespans but it was necessary, all threats had to be eliminated in the name of increased efficiency.

Their scans of the entire world had used many techniques and weapons that the Engiseers themselves only deployed in the most desperate of situations, using scrapcode to weave into data networks, to turn them to the side of the Emperor, destroying whatever Machine Spirits they might have had. Thousands of bytes of scrapcode were unleashed, the world bared open to the datajacks of the Mechanicus, their self-calibrating eyes reading each and every ream of data, all of it hardcoded into their facilities on Mars. The Mechanicus never forgot their data.

Never.

What they had discovered was enlightening.

The Teeth had been paid to attack the city of Brockton and to eliminate the Princess by any means necessary. It was assumed then that the one known as the Butcher had planned to force the Princess to kill her, to then take control of her body. A nefarious plan for sure.

It was merely unlucky for them that it had been recorded as a failsafe, or at the very least a dead man's switch. To be bared to the world in case of betrayal… left on the internet, open to the gazes of the Mechanicus.

They who had paid the Teeth were being traced, they would not be leaving this without consequence, they would not be allowed to go about their lives as if nothing had happened.

There would be consequences and the Princess' Guard were ready to ensure that they were carried out at all costs.

It came then that the fact of the matter was that the Princess was ruffling a great deal many feathers. Feathers belonging to those all over the planet, they who were too cowardly to face the Princess in person and so they resorted to using assassins.

They would be dealt with.

In time.

The Imperium always won. If it was tomorrow, in ten years, or in a thousand, the Imperium always won.

With one body or a hundred million, the Imperium would crush its foes like waves upon a beach, there would be no escape.

They won when it was right to win and in this case it was not. They did not have the numbers to persecute a war across the entirety of the planet and so they had to resort to other means.

They who had a direct hand in the attack against the Princess would be dealt with personally.

No word of it would be said to the Princess, of course, she had assumed that it was merely an attack, nothing more, nothing less.

Their Princess had to be protected even if that was from herself.

But… but there could be words into the right ears to either direct her to more obvious targets, or to misdirect her entirely.

Those to the south, the ones that were manufacturing large amounts of drugs for use against their own peoples, they would be the first targets. The Africa campaign would be finished, they must take the entire continent and secure it. In doing so the armies would be freed for the next assault into what was known as South America. They who had provided the militia, the soldiers, they would be the next targets.

It was not as… broken as Africa was, but their peoples would certainly enjoy the presence of the Princess, she would do nothing but improve their puny lives after all.

As for those that were outside of the hands of the Guard… at least currently, were going to be met by the might of the Mechanicus, but not in the way that they assumed it to be.

Power rested in the ability to use monetary power in order to accomplish what they wanted. It was this that was what allowed for them to purchase the mercenaries that they had hired to assist in their attack against the Princess.

For those, it was a matter of the Scrapcode of the Adeptus Mechanicus that had been used to in the Imperium to siphon Thrones away from those that were threats to the Imperium.

A simple matter of rewriting the Scrapcode in a way that allowed for them to siphon the thrones or "cash" away from these groups.

They would not be allowed to continue their sabotage of the Princess.

Humanity was a constant no matter where it was that they were found and this was no different. Without the ability to use their money, it already being stolen, they in turn, would be helpless against the Princess when she finally decided that it was time for them to move into the more prosperous zones of the world.

They had assets, of course, hard assets, money was merely the signifier of power. But it was the shortage of liquid currency that would cause them to search around, to lash out wildly, to expose themselves.

The lack of money, the lack of power, in turn, would create panic and it would allow for them to flush out just exactly who was involved and who had decided that they were not participating in this at all.

Allies in the sense that they were not willing to attack the Princess, that they were not willing to condemn themselves to death because of their desires.

It had merely been a week yet the effects were very clear indeed. The manner in which the Mechanicus were able to track the various groups as they began to draw upon funds from alternative sources, from hidden accounts. Or not so hidden accounts, the Engiseers were drawing from those as well now, everything they had would be leeched dry.

When the Princess came for them, they would be powerless.

At the same time, the problem of what to do about them was being solved in part by the Guard themselves. The Phantine Skyborne were moving into position, tracking them, ensuring that they were not going to be doing anything that might constitute a further threat. Anything that was possibly a concern, was very likely going to be a very probable concern.

Any factions that were being met, any groups, any mercenaries, anyone at all who might possibly in one way, shape or form that could be a problem, was tagged. Their faces run through the various networks that the Engiseers had gained access to, networks that allowed for them to find out just who they were dealing with, work out a plan for dealing with them if the need arose, and if they were too dangerous, then they were going to be eliminated on the spot.

Some would have to be eliminated as it currently was. The fact of the matter being that by killing those that were around the targets, they would induce a sense of fear and dread, they would be creating a sense of terror wherever the targets looked, their every glance one that would tell them just how many things were there and how many things would prefer it if they stopped existing.

Much as the Catachans and Phantines had done to the enemies of the Emperor, they too would do it here. Induce so much fear that the enemy would make a mistake, do something that would send them into the open where they had nowhere to run, their last days spent in terror.

The Guard would not show mercy for that was for the weak. Nor would they show mercy unto those that had dared strike out against the Princess, they had impinged upon the honour of the Guard, their actions had told the world that they did not consider the Guard to be a significant factor.

They would be dealt with.

There would be no other option, the Imperial Guard, the Princess' Guard could not allow for the insult to slide. Death was the only option for those that had thought the Princess to be weak, that thought the Princess' Guard to be weak.

Already there were plans being made for the larger groups that had participated in the attack. They of the so called Nazis, much the same as the ones in Brockton that had fled, they were still being tracked, of course, the Imperium did not forget its dues.

These were apparently the ones that were funding the Nazis in Brockton, they had a large amount of assets and were primarily based in Europe, a continent halfway around the world.

They too would be dealt with in time.

As would the CUI who ruled the country of China, a country that was large in population and regimented in structure, their ruler a despotic one that would need to be eliminated for the Princess' peace of mind.

The one group that had not decided to strike out against them would be protected, their own alpha strike against the agitators doing much to endear them to the Princess' Guard. They had shown their loyalty to the Imperium and they would be rewarded as was their right.

The plan as it currently was, was to destabilize those that had the wealth, creating a knock-on effect that in taking a leaf from the Eldar Playbook, allow for them to accomplish multiple objectives at the same time. Destroy those who opposed them and to prime the populations of those countries to accept the Princess.

The Guard was not an idealistic organisation, they knew that there had to be incentive for many to agitate on their own to join. There had to be a clear way for them to benefit.

Joining the Princess and not starving to death was one of them and the Guard was going to make sure that it was a very loud message.

By any and all means they would secure this world, even if they had to hide it from the Princess.

75The Campaign for Africa was one that was accelerated beyond the standard. The order had come down that the Princess was facing a threat in the original continent and the schedule was to be accelerated. The continent would be brought into Imperial Compliance, the African campaign would be finished in a matter of hours and the Princess would once again have the might of her Regiments at her command.

The goods that had been spread throughout the continent, the goods that had been given freely by the Princess' Guard, the power generators, the water purifiers, the heaters, and more. Each of them possessed what was essentially a beacon that passively absorbed radio waves. It did nothing else, however the fact that it did that was enough to allow for what happened next.

The Imperial Guard teleported their Guardsmen deep into the strongholds of the warlords, of the opposition, where they were the most vulnerable, striking at them from the rear and decapitating their leadership in a matter of hours. The entire Continent brought to heel psyker or not.

The fact of the matter being that warlords acted like warlords, hoarding that which had been given freely, that which had been spread out through the world and was given in order to help and save. It had been taken and it had been hoarded as the Guard had expected. It allowed for them to pinpoint exactly where it was that the largest amount of radio wave absorbent items were, allowing for them to pinpoint strongholds and what was more, allowed for them to teleport straight in, weapons at the ready.

The Africa campaign was concluded or at the very least its initial stages were.

The next stage would be bringing the people of the continent into compliance with the Imperial Creed, they would be made into model Imperial Citizens through the efforts of the Guard and the administorum that would be brought in once the continent had been pacified. They would be treating the natives of the world as they had the many different worlds that were made compliant over the millennia that the Imperium had existed. Uplifting them whether they desired it or not, understanding that they would understand once it was complete.

For the Guard, it was not something that they were to worry about. For the world had changed. It had become more hostile and the Princess was no longer as safe as she had been before. Or rather she was still as safe as she had been, but now she knew that there were many who wanted her dead or gone, her existence being for them something that was... inconvenient.

They were heretics and they would be treated as such. Their actions against the Princess had condemned them, but that was a matter for another time. They had seen similar, indeed many actions of the Imperial Guard were against those who bit the hand which fed them. Planetary Governors covered in greed, their lust for more condemning them to heresy. They had been eliminated, as would those on this world.

What was more significant for now was the fact that there was an entrenched faction to the south of their starting continent. A faction that was in some ways was one that had to be dealt with the for the continued security of the future plans regarding Princess (she herself was safe, they were not enough to harm her).

They were powerful in regards to their abilities to spread influence around the globe.

Very much so.

Unlike the African warlords, they had large swathes of land under their control, land that was properly controlled and protected as land should be. At the same time, they also served to hold armies that held in their ranks thousands of infantry, some vehicles and more. Attempts to dig them out being routed by the unfamiliarity with the land itself.

They held land in the mountainous areas of the southern continent, land that they were using to cultivate various… drugs, that were creating in the average Imperial Citizen an unacceptable amount of dependency. Recreational use was not covered in the Law Code, but addiction was the path to damnation, those that encouraged it would be dealt with by the full might of the Imperium. They were preying on the weak, and they knew it.

Why else would they target the Princess, the one who brought hope, the one who was going to make it so that people no longer desired their products?

It was a decision made to keep power, much in the same way that many Planetary Governors decided that they would rebel against the Emperor in order that they keep the tiny amount of power that they had been given, that they would betray what had given them everything, what had protected them from the depths of the Warp, what had ensured their peoples were strong.

They desired their power and in doing so damned the souls of everyone under them to damnation itself.

The Guard could not allow for this to happen. Rather they would not allow for this to happen. The peoples would not be made weak, they would not be preyed upon and the Imperium would shelter and protect those under its wing.

The Southern Continent's governing powers had proven themselves to be weak. Unable to do anything about the vast amounts of corruption that had spread through its ranks like a particularly virulent disease. It was something that even the blindest citizens could see.

When things had become difficult, when the world had pressed down upon them, they had not held strong, rather they had folded and in doing so condemned their people. They were the pawns of those who had power, of those who had threatened the Princess, they would be given a chance at mercy. If they did not comply then the Princess' Guard would be bringing them into compliance through force if necessary.

They very much hoped that force would be necessary.

Those that had threatened the Princess would be made to pay. Those that had attempted to spread a Daemon through the city of Brockton, the home city of the Primarch would pay doubly so. There would be the very special attention of Maxine devoted purely to them, her tender mercies their last sight.

And so it was that the campaign of Africa was to be ended. The combat portion was over, the more combat ready Regiments being pulled out of the fray, leaving those that were more personable to rally the civilians, the refugees into the camps before they in turn, were moved to the Hive City.

In time they would be Imperial citizens, as loyal to the Princess as any other.

As for those that had sought to strike out against the Princess, their fates were being written as the Regiments secured the continent, allowing for others to return. Even now there were more of their number moving through the portal from the home universe. Company after Company, Captains marching their men through, the Guardsmen ready to do their duty.

Entire squadrons of armoured vehicles, Sentinels, Wyverns, Basilisks, Thunderers, Colossus Bombards, Dominus Tanks, Minotaurs, Crassus Armoured Transports, Gorgon Armoured Transports, Leman Russ's and what was more. The Princess was growing in power.

She was growing in so much power that she was able to finally open a portal that was wide enough that she did not need to requisition the larger vehicles of the Imperial Guard, they were free to simply emerge through the portal, finally joining the Princess in suppressing this world and demonstrating their might.

The mighty Baneblade and others of its ilk were ready, the squadrons trundling through into the specially constructed lifts of the Princess Base.

These had been constructed in preparation for the Titans that were to be called in as time permitted, machines of war so vast that they were effectively entire structures in and of themselves. The venerable Titans, the Leviathan, the Capitol Imperialis, the Mobile Suit Squadrons and more. Each and every one of them ready and willing to do the bidding of the Princess. Soon they would be able to travel through, soon they would be joining the Princess at her side.

Further, the aircraft of the Imperium were finally able to make an appearance, these ones emerging from the portal underneath the Madagascar Base. The Marauder Bombers, each one ready to lay out destruction from on high, so far into the sky that the naked eye would never see what was delivering the rain of death upon them below. Each armed with enough weaponry to fight off anything that might try and reach them in the skies, their internal machine spirits ready to do evade and strike down in turn attacking craft.

The Marauder variants themselves were all capable in their own right, the Destroyer for close air support missions, the Colossus the times when an enemy had to be crushed and there was no such thing as overkill, the Vigilant as a mobile command post. The Marauder itself was originally used as a Void Craft, designed to attack enemy ships in the void. Allowing for it to operate outside of the atmosphere and strike anywhere on the planet with impunity.

Lightning fighters, Avengers, Arvus Lighters, Aquila landers, all of the being transported through. Global operations were in essence, ready, the Princess able to launch strikes all over the globe from her office.

It was with all of this that the next part of the operation was begun. The mighty vehicles of the Imperial Guard would be transported by the might of the Imperial Navy, but the sight of such massive vehicles might have induced heart palpitations in those that saw them. As such, in order to reduce the threat of sudden death by those of a weaker nature, the Princess merciful in nature decreed that they would alert the world as to the intent of their actions. She had been briefed that it was those to the South that had attacked her, that she should begin moving against them, if not for herself, then for those that were under their control, they who were vulnerable.

For the Princess' Guard, this was an opportunity to strike 2 birds with a single stone. They would be able to effectively alert those that had funded the strike against the Princess that their days were limited, those to the South… and those who were not.

They would know that the might of the Imperium was bearing down upon them and their actions against the Princess and the Imperium as a whole would not be tolerated. Their time was running out and if they had anything left to do, they might as well clean their necks and wait.

Those of the PRT were alerted as to what was happening, beginning with Director Piggot, their own local contact, and branching further out. She had not been happy to hear about what they were planning, which was understandable. Administrators were never happy when the world changed without their permission, but as those on Armageddon had learnt, it was best to do what was necessary before the Orks ate you alive.

The local law enforcement had been alerted and a broadcast to the city had been sent out. All would stay inside for the day, or rather they would stay off the streets, the skybridges and tunnels were still open for they who wished to move about.

For in exactly one week, there would be a parade. A glorious parade. One where the might of the Imperium was to be demonstrated to the city of Brockton, so that they might cheer and be happy. They would know that these were their defenders and they were marching out to attack those that sought to destroy them.

It was also a chance for the Princess to call upon those who were her targets this time to surrender, the demonstrate just what was coming against them, just what was about to destroy them and all they ever cared about. Surrender now and they would be granted the Emperor's Mercy (or rather the Princess wanted them locked up and not executed, they could do that, the torture chambers were ready, just in case she changed her mind about the merciful thing.)

Those officials in the local government were also alerted, even those that had assisted in the attack on the Princess. Their actions, or rather their careful inaction had been part of the strike and they in time would pay. They thought that they were protected, they thought that they were safe for they had done the same many times in the past, all of it without repercussions.

By the time they learnt just what the reality that was waiting for them was, it would be too late.

The Imperium did not forget and those that wished to insult and attack it would soon learn.

The Imperium did not forget.

George12

Dec 13, 2016

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Threadmarks 055 And the World Turns

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George12

OAMU

Dec 13, 2016

#499

Emily Piggot was having a very bad day. One might say that it among the worst of days.

Very very terrible.

It was as if God was looking down from on high and said to himself in that Godly voice of his "how can we shit on Emily Piggot today?" and then said, "oh right, let's have the Princess' Guard invade South America."

Because of course, they would.

Because of course, that was how things were going to go.

Emily slammed her head into the desk. Or at least she was planning to do that, thinking about the feeling of her forehead contacting the desk below her, of her nose crunching into the little plank of wood, blood everywhere.

But she refrained.

She had meetings.

Or rather she had little sessions when people called up to bitch to her about her lack of control over the Princess. After which she asked just what they would do in her situation. And then hang up on the fuckers because fuck them.

Stupid fucking little shits all of them.

Piggot after all, had many pieces of bad news today.

MANY

One might say that the universe was out to get her. In Piggot's mind, it certainly was.

Oh yes.

It was.

First of the bad news was the fact that the US government, some factions of the PRT included had decided that the Princess was dangerous, that sure she could destroy the Endbringers and fucking save the fucking world but that meant she would also be taking over. She had to conquer the world after all.

But in conquering the world, guess fucking what? She was going to be taking land, she was going to be replacing department's and those fucking little pieces of shit in power didn't like that idea, not at all. So they went and they leaned on their directors, their little chiefs, their little cronies and pressured them into looking the other way when say a convoy of The Teeth rolled through their fucking cities like they owned it.

What was worse was the idiots had not been smart enough to hide it, they had not the brains to ensure that their involvement would not be traced in some way, that they were going up against the Mechanicus who had Artificial Intelligences at their disposal. What did they think was going to happen?

The ones who owned Walmart, the ones who owned the large chain stores, the petroleum, the coal, the whatever it was that was making money, they were all in some way implicated in this and fucking hell did they have to do this to her? Why couldn't they just fucking use those little brains they hired their assistants for and not fuck everyone else over?

Piggot had been sitting back, enjoying the fact that for once… things were working out. The PRT was rolling in with their Valkyries (loaned) through the air, responding to threats across the continent and saving lives. What was better was that they were doing it in public and getting so much public response. Approval ratings had only been higher when the PRT was formed and when they fought off Leviathan for the first time.

And now it was all crashing down around her ears because some people were just too stupid to let live. Maybe she should put out a kill-order… but that would be an overreach of authority, wouldn't it?

The Princess' Guard, led by Maxine had entered her office through a side door that she didn't know was there.

They had looked very serious and Piggot had made herself look serious to match, whatever this was… was very serious and she didn't want to be the odd person out. That would just be… awkward.

That and it might have gotten her killed as she learned moments later.

There had been an attack on Brockton, Piggot knew that.

She also knew that it was the Teeth, that the Butcher had been… well, she didn't know what happened after that, but the Kriegers killing themselves told her in a general sense what had happened, that and the appearance of Magnus in the city again.

Regardless, she had known the Teeth had been demolished, torn apart by artillery, that their little convoy had run headfirst into a barrage that would not have been out of place on the Beaches of Normandy, only they didn't have the numbers to pull it off and were wiped out… to a man. All 200 of them. Because fucking hell that was just what she needed. 2 companies worth of infantry moving into her city… seriously!?

Someone had decided to payroll The Teeth, give them enough money to hire that many men, or in a worst case scenario had given the Teeth that many men, had sent them towards Brockton on a mission to kill the Princess.

Maxine had explained to her in detail, just how they had pulled that off. Whether or not she was lying was something that Piggot didn't want to test, she liked her organs inside of her body thank you very much.

Back on topic, the Teeth had been bankrolled by someone with some very deep pockets, pockets that also extended to being able to have the state police ignore the convoy that was heading through the area, on a direct route to the city of Brockton, filled with men and enough weapons to start a civil war.

They had then initiated a media blackout where there would be no reporting of the Brockton area, or any recording cameras, or anything of the like for the next 6 hours.

Someone, in essence, had serious clout behind them and they had in their wisdom, decided to throw it against the Princess because that was obviously the right thing to do in this kind of situation.

Maxine had been rather incensed about it, Piggot had too until she was shown just who it was that was involved.

Movers and shakers all of them, in the economic sense and not the power one.

Each of them could buy Brockton (well old Brockton at least) several times over with their pocket change. Not just limited to America either, but they were spread all over the globe. Except for Russia… but that was mainly because their Oligarchs had been killed in a "sudden burst of accidental machine gun fire" the previous week.

Those implicated were very high in office, all the way down to those in junior positions.

She had been shown the minutes of the various meetings, the way that they were all talking about how to effectively deal with the Princess, to sabotage the Guard, to do everything in their power to shatter the balance of power. She had not known just how… bad it was, but this? This was very very bad.

Piggot had to avoid slamming her head into the table again when she read through it, did they not understand that the Mechanicus could read their entire database like an open book? Did they not understand that even though they sounded like tech illiterate idiots who were like a cargo cult, they were in fact, one of the most powerful factions in the Imperium? That their ways of waging war also included an electronic aspect to it that relied on them being able to fight against what was essentially artificial intelligences?

Did they not fucking understand?

Did they just read a book that said, "and here is why the Mechanicus is a bunch of stupid cultists that don't even know what they are doing." They even fucking made their own AI, their own thinking computer, they had the technology, they had the ability, the only thing holding them back was the very real fear that it would be corrupted and turn on them.

And yet… and yet here it was. Something that defied logic. People that she had assumed were there to protect the United States, Europe, Asia, were now trying very actively to have war declared upon them.

They destroyed planets for less than this, just what did they think that they were going to be doing?

As she left, Maxine assured Piggot that retaliation was on the way, but as the Princess had decreed, they would be minimizing the amount of lives lost, there would be no civilian atrocities, there would be no carpet bombings of cities. The Princess had spoken and her word was law. That did not mean that the instigators would be allowed to just walk away, their due was coming.

Piggot had sighed at that.

Next had come the meetings as other directors, as officials, as politicians called her up, rambling on about how she had failed her work, how she had left the United States open to actions by a foreign actor, how she had effectively doomed the US to die a slow and lingering death because of her inaction.

Piggot had merely looked at them and remembered just why it was that Ellisburg had remained as it had for so long. It was not because that the losses of attacking it were too high, but the risk was too high. For politicians risk as an anathema and they were willing to allow the status quo to continue so long as it did not impact on them.

She looked up at the ceiling, looked up at the world, and decided that "fuck it". If they wanted to fuck themselves over, she wasn't going to do anything to stop it. Those of them that were calling for the attack of the Princess she noted down for future reference, cross referencing their names with those on the list before her.

Ah yes, those were the ones that had been paid the most, and had the most to lose.

How… pathetic.

Piggot hadn't said anything, she merely nodded and pretended to listen. She had more important things to do, like making sure that the PRT would not be impacted by the sudden bout of insanity that had crippled those who had oversight of it. She was going to do her job and ensure that the world did not burn because of their stupidity.

They had asked her what to do, did they not understand that literally ,everything they had was in paperback form, on the internet? They could just use Ctrl+F on their keyboards and they would be able to find the answers yet they did not. Just what the fuck did they think was going to happen? Did they not have mountains of aides that would be here? That would be able to find all this shit on their own? Did they not have quite literally all the resources in the United States?

But no. They had fucked up as politicians loved to do and now it was on her to fix it. Because of course, that was how the world wanted to work today.

Somehow, someway, she was going to do this. How? She had no idea, but she wasn't Emily Piggot if she didn't at least try.

Piggot had been lost for a few minutes there before a call had come through from Chief Director Costa Brown. She had been abrupt, she had been thorough.

She had asked just what Emily suggested that they should do and she nodded.

Let the Guard do as they like, let them do what they wanted to the Politicians and let them save the world.

The PRT was not here to ensure the safety of the government, sure it was on their charter, but it was also unwritten that they would do so if the governments were not completely fucking stupid and acting against the people of the United States and Canada. They were here to defend from foreign invaders, yes. They were not here to defend against their own government trying to destroy itself from the inside.

The PRT would step back then, they would nod and make the right noises until Costa Brown gave the information to the other Directors and in doing so decide that to do regarding the PRT as a whole. They could not be at the mercy of the people in charge who would be trying no doubt to force heroes and PRT resources to aid them in their plans, ones that would be extremely dangerous to the world as a whole.

In one week the Princess' Guard would be deploying.

In one week Costa Brown would be convening the Directors and gathering a consensus of what they would be doing in the future.

In one week the world would change.

Emily was getting used to it and it scared her.

George12

Dec 13, 2016

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Threadmarks 056 And the World Turns

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George12

OAMU

Dec 13, 2016

#500

Alexandria or rather Rebecca, or perhaps Rebexandria, because that was what she felt like she was these days.

Very seriously, she was considering the fact that the very stupid, very opinionated and very… easily bribable politicians had gone and fucked up so big and so importantly, that she was unsure if she would be able to pull them out of it. As in they fucked up on a scale that had never before been seen, or at least for themselves.

The country was going to be getting out of it pretty much intact and with much more competent leadership so that was a plus.

After all, as part of Cauldron and as part of the PRT, Rebecca had a great deal of power and influence. She used it… she hoped for the greater good.

She knew how insidious that thought was, what it could drive people to do, but in her defence, she did it in the firm belief that what she was doing was right. That she had done what she had so that humanity would survive.

The experimentation, the memory wiping, the kidnapping, all of it done for the good of all.

She had lost sleep over it. She was glad that she had lost sleep over it.

If she had not. Then that was the time that Rebecca knew that she was too far gone, that she had succumbed and accepted what they were doing as normal, that she was no longer a person.

She would be a monster.

It had been getting close, the pause in her decision making, her reluctance… it was fading and that scared her.

She was saved from that fate by the Princess. The Princess didn't know that she had done it, but she had. In providing hope, in giving Rebecca a light in the darkness, she had saved Rebecca as surely as if she had folded a wing over her shoulder.

It was something that was so very difficult to explain.

Sure she had hope before, that they would be able to find the serum that would be able to defeat the one called Scion. That they would be able to defeat the Endbringers. That they would be able to save the world.

So very many little ifs and buts, but the hope had been there. It was a nebulous hope, a hope that relied more on the fact that she would have to be insane to hope that much, but it had been there. A tiny tiny glimmer that she strode towards, blindly, confidently because it was the only hope. You took what you got and you made the best of it.

But the Princess had arrived and she had arrived in style. Her brother tearing through Leviathan, the fact that Behemoth was now gone, disappeared somewhere that even the Clairvoyant couldn't see him, a very clear sign that Magnus had decided to simply take an Endbringer as if it were a toy.

It had given her hope.

The Princess' stance on war, the fact that she had cried over sending soldiers to their deaths (their vision being cut off suddenly after that, no doubt the work of Magnus) had told Rebecca that the Princess cared, and humanity would not only survive under her... but thrive.

That Mars had been opened up, that if Scion destroyed the planet, that they had somewhere to escape to. An escape that was not just an alternate earth, one that was also highly vulnerable, but one that was away from the entity.

Further, they had a route into another universe, one that was free of the entities, one that they might settle a world under the Princess' purview and in doing so be safe from the aliens, from the Imperium.

In essence, Rebecca had been given the keys, each one inscribed with "hope 1" or "hope 10" and she could pick and choose what she wanted, when she wanted.

It was a heady feeling and Rebecca had certainly appreciated it. It was not every day that she was able to just sit back for a little and relax. To know that for once… someone else was putting in the hard yards, someone else was doing the work, someone else was saving the world.

Which was why when a meeting with several… interested friends had eventuated, people who were very powerful politically, socially and economically, and had asked for her support in "dealing" with the Princess, she had very simple refused to give into the urge to slam their faces into the ground, pulping them like the fruits that they were, and said "no".

She would not.

She had made some very hard decisions in her life.

That had not been one of them.

They had threatened her, they had ranted, they had raved and she remained cool.

They threatened to have her removed from her post, for incompetence, but she simply showed what Contessa had given to her that morning. A list of some… very bad things.

They had shut up after that.

Thankfully.

It had made her feel better about herself when she thought back to what Contessa had done. Simply given her the briefcase with orders to open it when the "need for evidence" came up, and that was it. She had trusted Alexandria to do what was necessary by her own thoughts and by her own actions. Something that her denial of them was something that while planned by Contessa, had sprung from her alone.

It… it was a good feeling to know that for once the right thing to do and the necessary thing to do were one and the same.

It was even better to know that she had very likely saved herself and Cauldron from being destroyed in nuclear hellfire. The fact being that the very same group that she had met, had decided to go ahead with their plan… or rather a plan which involved trying to get the Princess possessed by the Butcher somehow.

A plan that ended with catastrophic failure when the attackers were wiped out, and the Princess' Guard had in turn, discovered just who had the temerity to fund an attack on the Princess.

They had thought the world would be the same, they could not understand that it was fundamentally different now, that the old methods no longer worked.

And they were going to pay the price for it.

It was difficult for Rebecca to think about the whys of it all. Why did they do that? Why were they acting like this? They could take a hit in their personal worth, it was not as if they were being asked to do something like lose it all, the Princess wasn't going to be taking things away and the like. Well, maybe the land, but not everything else. Take the land and there would be a rebellion, unless she offered something that was worth much more… that much was obvious.

Or perhaps she was unconcerned? The greater good?

Rebecca found herself not especially caring, the problem that she was facing was much more… at home than any of that. She had to deal with the problem of what came now. The fact of the matter being that those in the government, very high up people were trying to kill the Princess or at least discredit her at the behest of either their own greed, or that of others.

She would need to do something, not doing anything would only cause her bigger problems down the line, Rebecca knew that much. This was a golden opportunity to worm her way into the confidence of the Princess without actually needing to explain anything regarding Cauldron.

Which in turn meant that she didn't need to reveal the whole kidnapping people and turning them into Case 53s and the like which no doubt would not go very well, hiding it never occurring to her what with the Princess and Magnus being able to read minds.

That would have to happen later when Cauldron revealed itself to her… not now, but soon. She was simply too compassionate as of right now.

Not now.

Soon.

She sat back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. The Guard would be mobilizing now, not the National Guard but the Princess' Guard. They were doing it live on television as well if her sources were accurate.

Specific kinds of television, the kind that no doubt had no part to play in the attack. A subtle message perhaps.

They knew how to play the game.

Rebecca waited as the time ticked over. The Guard were heading out in two hours. Enough time for what she needed to do if the PRT wanted to continue existing after the Princess took over.

8 AM.

Time.

She initiated the conference call and was gratified to see that her directors were here. They at the very least had not succumbed to the temptation, they knew the costs of fighting the Endbringers after all. They were the ones who read the casualty reports, knew the names, knew the costs. Not like those idiot Politicians who thought they knew. A few of their underlings had not been as stoic and would be removed shortly.

"Good morning Directors. I presume that you have read the information that has been forwarded to you by courier?" Rebecca asked. She had of course been the one to transport the little bits of information about. She was really bloody fast, after all, the information courtesy of Number Man and Contessa.

"Yes, Chief Director. This… this is all correct? There are no falsities?" Asked Armstrong the Boston Director, his face twisted into a grimace of distaste.

"Yes. I can assure you that each and every part of it is true."

"Then… Then what do we do from here?" He asked, the others echoing the statement. Even Tagg looked disgusted, he had served his country, but he had not expected that the country would be subverted like this. There had been corruption… but not on this scale, not this systemic.

"It is very simple. We…"

Rebecca stood in front of the crowd of reporters. They knew that something was up given that she had called this meeting so soon before the Princess' Guard's mobilization. They had an hour and after this speech, they were going to fly down south to cover the parade, or at least those that had been invited would be. Those that had not had been warned not to approach on pain of death.

The Directors had unanimously agreed to what she was about to do and she was grateful for that, it showed that she hadn't appointed idiots.

"Good morning. No doubt you are wondering why you are here." She started off, enjoying the looks of 'get on with it' on their faces.

"It has come to my attention that the attack upon the city of Brockton Bay led by members of the The Teeth last week is not what it appeared to be on the surface." She said, face serious as the reporters perked up, this was interesting after all.

"In fact, it has come to my attention that the attack on Brockton Bay was in fact orchestrated by the cartels in South America as well as by the Governments of the nations included within. The information reports stating such will be made available to you after this speech." They had the looks of 'aha' at that, it explained the speed and target of this deployment at the very least.

"That is not all, however, we have links between not only those in South America, but those in Western Europe, those in Canada, those in the United States and more. The governments of which have colluded to launching a strike against the Princess using the Butcher's powers as a medium to destroy her. The implication, therefore, is that our politicians, our appointed officials, our officers and more are complicit in funding and facilitating an attack.

"It will not be the first attack, they will continue at all costs and our information has indicated that they are willing to kill American and Canadian citizens to further this goal." They looked very shocked at that, a few of those at the back furiously telling the cameramen to cut the feed. It looked like there would need to be some house cleaning after this… of the violent kind.

"As a result of this, I and the other directors of the Parahuman Response Team feel that we will be able to better serve the American and Canadian peoples without being linked to such a dangerous administration that has clearly forgotten what it means to protect and serve the people. One that has forgotten who they represent. We will continue to be separate until such a time that we can be reasonably sure the corruption has been eradicated. Once again the information will be released on the PRT website within the next 10 minutes. Thank you and goodbye." Rebecca turned and walked off the stage at that, her eyes shining with glee. The government would likely collapse at this (with a little poking), giving the Princess the ability to simply take over without needing to fire a single shot and kill a single civilian.

With the US under her control as with South America and Russia, well it was only a matter of time.

The world would be safe, no matter the cost.

Last edited: Dec 13, 2016

George12

Dec 13, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 14, 2016

#517

The speech by Chief Director of the PRT had gone down like lead filled balloon… which is to say it floated poorly or not at all. Balloons tend to melt when one pours molten lead into them, but the general idea is the same, a large dense object thrown into the water which then sinks. Sinks like public opinion and the goodwill of said public who were now very annoyed at what was going on.

After all, it was only #currentyear, which meant that it had been several decades since the government decided that destroying their lives was a good thing. That they would be better off if automation came in, that of outsourcing white collar work, that of concentrating their wealth into the hands of a very very prestigious and elite few.

With this news right on the heels of the Princess unifying Africa under her banner… well, the people of the United States of America (and Canada) were having a very very difficult time justifying just exactly what it was they had people in government for.

Just what was the point of electing people if they refused to cater to the public opinion? It was they that mattered, it was they that voted, it was they that ensured that the politicians had been elected in the first place. It was also the politicians that had gone out of their way to ensure that anyone who tried to mention such things as possible alternatives to the government were slandered, that those who offered an alternative to their dying economics system were destroyed in the social sense, their reputations down the drain.

Was it any wonder then that the people were very much incensed that apparently, most of those in senior positions in the government were part of this plot? That they had been bought long ago, bought by minuscule funds, a few tens of thousands each, as if the destruction of their lives at the hands of a vengeful Imperium was worth a few thousand dollars, did they not have the bloody self respect to ask for a million at the very least?

Of course this was still fermenting in the minds of those around the country, they were unable to act on it at the current time, their own thoughts still a mess. Recriminations and the like were pouring out over social media, this being the first stage of what was going to be happening next. The governments were going to be deluged with spam, the might of 4chan being unveiled… alongside the shitposters that were the cogitators that the Mechanicus had worked up, pumping out propaganda on a constant basis all day every day.

They would be fanning the flames for the next stage, the protests. Protests that were going to be calling for the resignation of a large part of much of the government, demands for change, demands for… something. They weren't sure. But they would be! Just give them a few more days… or weeks.

A manifesto. Yes, they needed a manifesto and it was rather late in coming.

Where were the premade ones that the anarchists had ready for this moment? It was a disappointment that they were not fully ready to rebel against the world at a moment's notice.

Still, there would be time for that later.

First. First came the parade.

The parade that the Princess' Guard were hosting as they rolled the might of their army down the main boulevard of the city of Brockton Bay, the biggest and longest boulevard that stretched through the entire city, one that was wide enough for the mightiest of the vehicles of the Imperial Guard. Even the famed Emperor Class Titan would be able to march down this boulevard, its might steps an inspiration to all that gazed upon it. All of them able to understand why it was that the Imperium was so powerful, why it was that the Imperium was so dominant.

From the very front was Julia Krueger of the talk show Mustafar that had been invited down. She was standing on the side of a balcony looking down on the vehicles as they rode past, the soldiers of the Imperial Guard marching forward in beautiful regimented rows through the city, each step crashing in unison, the sounds bouncing off the wide walls, the step a beat by which they sang the Emperor's Song.

The fervour as they sang, the utter dedication evident in their voices, the stoic and straight bodies telling all who watched that this was the Astra Militarum and they were ready to do their duty at any cost. The various different regiments all marching with the same passion regardless of what they looked like on the outside, on the inside they were all Guardsmen, the Emperor's Hammer, his armoured boot, his fist, his might.

"Good Morning America! This is Julia Krueger reporting live from the city of Brockton Bay where we can see the Imperial Guard marching out to war! Standing next to me Captain Sinclair of the Cadian Shock Troops here to provide commentary as we watch the different units walk on past. How exciting!" She said, all perky and happy.

"Thank you." Said Captain Sinclair, his eyes betraying just how much he would rather be anywhere but here. Anywhere like on the battlefield where the only death was the physical one. Here… death by opinion… the agony.

"So! What are we seeing right now?" Julia asked, looking down to see the various walkers as the marched on past.

"This is the 103rd Sentinel Squadron, reconnaissance and fast attack vehicles. They perform similar roles to cavalry but are more range oriented."

…

"That is the Leman Russ…"

The little show continued and the people of America as the parade, one that was not dissimilar to that in Moscow every year was performed, their eyes glued to the screen as they did so. For the women, it was perhaps curiosity, that and the plethora of rather handsome and virile male specimens on display. Thousands of them, marching in lockstep, all looking so very intense.

For the men it was as if they had become Orks. An internal genetic switch was flicked, the one that said 'in case of giant machines doing things drop everything and watch.' And so they did, it took a very strong man indeed to ignore his instincts that were even now screaming at him to do the right thing and stare at the glory before his very eyes.

The Centaur tractors as they towed massive artillery pieces, the massive tubes on the Earthshakers mounted either one a towable carriage, or the mighty Basilisk itself. Its tracks squeaking as it trundled along, the sound of the engine roaring as it pushed forward.

The massive Leman Russ' that looked as if someone took the Landships of World War 1 and made a working tank from them, the way they dwarfed everyone else, the way that they towered over the average soldier, the machine guns on the side sponsons so large that they were the size of a man's chest, the bullets it fired must have been enormous, RPG enormous. From the front, it would look as if a moving wall of gun was rolling towards you, an unrelenting wall of death.

That was not all, the Chimeras trundled along, their variants as well, flame tanks, tanks with nozzles that wouldn't look out of place on a home tap, ones that looked like actual tanks and more. Usually followed by yet more infantry, there must have been thousands of them. All of them marching to the tune coming from the speakers as they thudded their way through the streets. It was like… Bulgarian Chanting for those in the know. The sonorous voices with a sparse instrumental track vibrating through the bones of those in the area, the sound reverberating between the massive Hab Blocks.

Then came the big ones, the ones that made every man sit up and press his face against the screen as if through digital osmosis they would be able to take in some of the gloriousness that was being displayed before their very eyes. Whereas before the Leman Russ' were driving 12 abreast, their bodies trundling their commanders sitting proud, the ones that came after drove 6 abreast, their massive forms rolling forward with an inertia that was palpable even through a screen.

The way in which they sundered the laws of physics as they rolled forth, the Macharius Heavy Tank, where the massive battle cannon of the Leman Russ was doubled in a single turret, the tank having enough firepower to simply crush or explode anything in its way. Of course, there was not just a single variant, there were so many more, ones with what looked to be two enormous dual gatling cannons firing shells the size of actual regular tank shells, others with a more… organic looking design that glowed an ominous green, plasma cannons capable of melting through anything in the world that was not an Endbringer or parahuman powers.

The way in which they casually displayed their might an inspiration to all tank designed around the world.

Bigger was better and size did matter.

They wanted one. No. They wanted 10. No… 1000. Just… just one.

It was beautiful and some even cried as they saw the might of the Imperium. The sheer… mechanicals on display tickling their inner Ork.

But… but that wasn't all. No. The Princess' Guard were debuting what looked to be tanks so enormous that only three at a time could fit on the boulevards.

The mighty Baneblade.

The mightiest and greatest of the Emperor's tracked vehicles a tank that was so dominant in all forms of combat that even the mighty Space Marine gave way to it. It was a machine so large that it had an entire 3 decks in the interior in which its crew might make their way about to service the enormous Baneblade Cannon, each one a meter in length, each one rocket propelled, each one able to destroy the very earth in which it slammed, cracking apart the ground from the weight of its fire, entire city blocks vanquished.

If that was not enough it had a Demolisher cannon in the hull, a rocket propelled weapon of fortified destruction, capable of cracking apart small hills, destroying it with a superheated jet of plasma, vaporizing everything in its path, turning flesh into char, turning char into charcoal.

For personal protection it had 9 alternative weapons, each one capable of rendering a human into nothing more than mince.

As they rolled down the boulevard there was silence, nobody was willing to say or do anything. Too in awe at the closest they would ever come to tracked perfection.

What was more, the Imperial Guard had deployed the different variants of the beast, ones with plasma cannons, ones with massive Vulcan Heavy Bolters, capable of holding an entire infantry company in their rear, the ones with the Tremor cannons being particularly terrifying, capable of liquefying the very earth upon impact, forcing all to move at a crawl lest they be consumed by the traitorous dirt.

Interspaced between each of the vehicles were the Mobile Suits, marching in step with their infantry, the tremors through the ground instead of being terrifying were instead reassuring to a populace who had grown used to the Imperial Guard in their city.

The Princess' Guard were marching out the slow way. They would be moving all the way south to the borders and then pushing straight through. Each and every step of the journey being one that was slow enough that every single person in the world would be able to see them making their way down. It would take a week once they were out of Parade speed and into marching speed, the Guardsmen mounting up for the ride down.

They were taking this purposefully slow, the Imperial Guard was the Emperor's Hammer, and part of that effectiveness was to show yourself in front of the enemy and show them just how much they were about to be fucked over, just how badly that they had fucked up, just how much firepower was about to show up at their doors.

Every single day that the Imperial Guard were moving southward, Valkyries would be dropping leaflets overhead, telling all in the city that if they wished to escape the oncoming battle to escape the cities, the Princess' Guard would protect the civilians when the time came. They told the soldiers to surrender for they would not be emerging out of the other side alive.

Large holo projectors in public squares showing live footage of the iron front spreading out as it moved southward, each protected by a gravitic shield, each one ready to show the devastating sights of the Imperial Guard in battle.

Fear.

Psychological warfare one that meant that when the time came the civilians would flee, leaving them to utterly crush the defenders without a need to hold back.

The Catachans and Skyborne moving ahead already clearing routes, ready to forcibly extract those too stubborn to do it themselves.

The Princess had decreed there be no civilian casualties and the Guard obeyed.

George12

Dec 14, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 14, 2016

#518

Orders had come down from above. High Command had discovered information that the enemy was being forced at gunpoint to confront the Princess, willingly or not.

Naturally this was seen as something that was to be punished, one did not do something as dastardly as attempt to subvert the Imperium's citizens against the Imperium itself. It mattered not that they were not part of the Princess' people, no, it mattered that they were innocents and they were being used by forced out of their control. All men belonged to the Imperium, it was just a matter of whether or not they understood that fact.

They would be freed, and they would be reunited with their families. Their gratitude extending to them joining the Auxilia, their loyalty had to be tested of course. The Imperium was merciful. The Imperium was also pragmatic.

In regards to those that had threatened the families, those who were even now working against the Princess, attempting to subvert all that was holy in the name of some dastardly plot, they would need to be dealt with. Their lives an offering to the Princess, their deaths, a key objective.

It would be difficult however, the simple fact of the matter being that they were being assisted by the corrupt Planetary Governors, the local PDF having joined with the heretics in suppressing their own people. There were those unwilling but their numbers were few and far between.

But… they could not be eliminated no matter how much it would expedite the situation.

The Princess had decreed that those innocent would be allowed to leave, their lives free to live as they pleased. Just because their masters were corrupt and vile did not mean that they were.

It was… it was foolish. But it was also a direct decree of the Princess.

They were the Imperial Guard and they would do as was necessary.

There was the caveat after all that if the situation had to be one where one had to choose between saving the lives of the many against the few, then the many would be chosen. Which naturally meant that if the situation became untenable and the front was too close, then they would deal with the few.

As of right now there was enough time to do this quietly, the Phantine moving in to meet up with those that had been identified as possibly friendly, those that were quite definitely not hostile to the Princess.

It had taken a little work and a lot of data sampling by the Lexmechanics but they were confident that these were the ones who would be willing to work with the Princess, their habits, the way they talked, the ones they met and so forth meeting the criteria required of their innocence. They would serve the Princess, they had already been profiled as being very likely to do so regardless.

The meetings would be held inside of a large square, a means to ensure that things did not escalate beyond their control, it being public enough that there were escape routes. They would not do so while inside of their own forward base, nor would they do so in the contact's, that was merely asking for a potential betrayal and the Phantine were not willing to risk that. They were good, they were not 'fight out of a complete surround with only 2 men' good.

And so they made their way to the public square as it was known (strange really, was not anything outside public?), ready and willing to start taking answers, and to start perhaps getting this over with. The Princess had demanded and they would fulfil, even if they thought it was perhaps just the slightest bit annoying.

They would go into this, have their contacts contact those they thought would need to get out of the city, and then have everyone leave before the Phantine swooped in, lasguns crackling and putting brains all over the walls. They were very good at that, very good indeed.

They were the Phantine and they would be completely professional about this.

The Catachans were facing the same problem that the Phantine were, only theirs was more… exaggerated. What with them being very very distinctive figures when it came down to it. They were all rather… big. Very muscular, very topless, and also spoke in some very distinctive accents.

It meant that naturally, they were going to be facing problems when it came to the matter of "infiltrating" the areas that the Princess had decreed that they do. The whole 'do things without killing everyone', bit messing with them slightly.

They were Catachan, when was the last time they did anything non lethally?

Still, the Princess had decreed and so they would obey.

They thought long and hard about the problem, a problem that was severely impacting their ability to think before finally, they came up with an answer. One that was perfect. It was the answer that was going to solve everything.

Yes.

They would not bother with this stupid trying to meet up and define who was naughty and who was nice. They would receive a series of names matched to faces from the Adeptus Mechanicus cogitators, mark off who was defined as "nice" and then kill the rest.

They were the Catachans, they did not need to bother with doing this the nice way, they would merely surgically remove the taint of heresy with their knives in a single night.

One might call it the "night of long knives", or maybe not since that was every night for the Catachans. Maybe they could call it 'Catachan night'... that might work.

Already they were moving into the place, a race against the Phantine, they would move at nightfall and whoever cleared their city first and liberated it before the Regiments arrived would get premium bragging rights. Premium because this was the first objective the two of them had been tasked with and that also were the same, while also being in two separate areas. Perfect for them to arrange a race with.

The armies marched their way forward, the cities of Ciudad Juarez, Mexicali, Tijuana, Chihuahua, and Monterrey fell to the might of the Princess' Guard at the end of the third day. Their defensive personnel crippled by strikes upon their leadership by the Catachan and Skyborne detachments, their strikes which allowed for the Princess' Guard to simply march their way in without needing to fire a single bolt, their populations welcoming their new masters and possibly their new saviours.

Whether or not the Princess' Guard would prove to be such had to be seen as they marched their way in. But for now… for now they looked to be something that was… better. Better than what they had experienced so far, what they had been subjected to by those that were meant to be protecting them, those that had exploited them.

Such was the case for Camila.

She had grown up inside the city of Mexicali on the west coast, near the border.

She had been born in the 60s, a time when there was possibly hope, Mexico was growing, their neighbour to the north sending money to invest in the city, to the country, ready to help them and to allow for them to advance along the route of civilization as it was called.

They were something that was giving the people of Mexico hope, something that was for them going to be something that would allow for the peoples of Mexico to become what some might call a modern state.

However it changed, it changed when the American had made all the drugs illegal, had made it so that cocaine and marijuana were illegal, and in doing so had begun the beginning of the end.

The way that the cartels had sprung up almost overnight, producing the drugs and selling them over the border, growing their product, producing their product, selling it and making so much money that they were able to ignore the law, able to simply do what they wanted as time passed. Their money was power and everyone wanted more of it.

That as they grew increasingly powerful and rich, they began to ignore things like the government, bribing those that were in their way, shooting and killing those that refused to leave. Setting themselves up in the towns, towns that became staging points for more and more drugs being sent across the border, more and more money. Human trafficking and more, it didn't matter how repulsive it was, so long as it made them money.

The government was unable to do much at all and when the Endbringers came, when the Parahumans came, without a strong government, without leaders that could do what was needed, they slowly fell apart. The Americans began to withdraw into themselves, not willing to help as much, not willing to assist, the Mexican people suffering as a result.

As the government became increasingly ineffectual, withdrawing from many parts of the cities without any prompting by those of the cartels, the cartels moved in on their own and effectively creating independent kingdoms within the Mexican government. It was something that created a sense of despair amongst those of the people, they who could not escape, who did not have the money to run, the ability to survive as those that had escaped earlier had.

They were the poor, they were the desperate.

The Parahumans had only skewed this even further, able to help and drive off the government when they tried anything, their abilities allowing them to with their soldiers fight off the government with ease.

Decades of this, decades where the cities were unable to develop, the contractors who were sent to build power lines, to repair sewage lines, to do anything and everything were beaten off, killed if they were unlucky, the cities essentially abandoned in many places, slums growing alongside the border of one of the most prosperous nations on the planet. It was extremely depressing to look over and see the prosperity, to know that it was not their destiny.

But now. Now the Princess was here and even they who had been cut off from the world by the lack of… effort to care, trying instead to survive the day to day, had heard of her from word of mouth. They weren't sure where the stories had started, or where they have even come from, but all of them knew that the Princess would be coming to bring to them prosperity, to bring to them hope.

And they had come. In the middle of the night, it seemed like it had been just the usual, that things were going to be the same. They were living in fear, of knowing that sometimes in the next day or the next week the Princess would be moving her armies down south, armies that were sent to take their city. Camila had seen the destruction that the government had sent soldiers to take back the city, how the civilians had been hurt, how there had been widespread destruction and death.

Yet it did not happen that way, if anything it happened the complete opposite of what she had thought would happen.

The ones in charge had been killed, all of them. In the middle of the night, the government who had shown that they were actually part of the cartels (everyone who didn't know this was either naive or a child) and declared war on the Princess.

Camila had been rounded up, along with everyone else who had family in the police or the army, rounded up and herded into rooms where they were told that they would be kept as insurance. Insurance to make sure that their family did what they were supposed to.

And now… their guards had been killed, those who ordered the guards had been killed, all of them freed.

All of it done in complete silence, she had not known about it until they noticed the entire area had gone silent, there was no shouting, no sounds of weapons being cleaned… nothing.

They had gone outside, the lock upon the door broken, and gazed on the death around them. All their guards with their throats slit wide open.

The message had been clear, leave them alone.

The next day the Princess' army had arrived from the North and they were marching down the streets. They weren't shooting people, nor were they doing anything that might have meant they were the same as the ones that had come before.

Instead… they left behind some who were even now rebuilding the city, demolishing the slums, building temporary housing and giving the people a cause for hope. Something that was very dangerous because they had given up on hope, to have it taken away now… well, that was something that none of them wanted, all of them were desperately afraid of.

Camila and all the others felt that maybe… maybe the future would not be so bad.

George12

Dec 14, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 14, 2016

#519

It was time.

Captain Commander Ajancius of the Baneblade Fist of Righteous Fury stood inside his command compartment, gazing at the pict-feeds that his Machine Spirit was sending to him, each one depicting a different part of the offensive getting into action, or at least preparing for action.

They had arrived at the border of the Mexican nation, Mexico it was called yesterday and after a day's rest, the Imperial Guard was ready. The enemy had seen their might, had seen what was being arrayed against them and word had come down to them that if they wanted to survive, then they would need to surrender with haste. The Princess guaranteed their safety and if they refused her generous offer, then there would be nothing left for them but death.

Thankfully it would be a quick death, it was not as if there was any other option with the might of the Imperium arrayed against them.

Ajancius straightened his uniform, the stiff collar of his Praetorian dress arranged perfectly lest he be seen. He was the captain of this vessel and he would be demonstrating the dress code perfectly lest his men descend into slovenliness as the commoners were wont to do.

He stood tall and gazed at the pict vids in front of him, the enemy was preparing themselves, a pitiful few tanks, a pitiful few soldiers. Only a few hundred vehicles? Did they not understand that this was the Imperium? They would need to try much harder if they wished to emerge from this alive.

He shook his head at the sight, they would not offer much of a fight at all at this rate. The Orks had been better which was saying much.

"Last offer for surrender going out now Captain! The Lord Commander says for us to standby!" Called out his radio operator. Good man, that.

Cracking his neck Ajancius absently replied, "send an affirmative, the Fist of Righteous Fury is standing by. Turret Loader, have the High Explosive set, they do not warrant armoured piercing. Demolisher Loader the same to you. Gunners standby. Engiseer Knamarius please link the Holy Machine Spirit to that of the Hammer of Wrath and the Fury of Rising Death. We will need to ensure that there is the most efficient spread of our weapons systems as possible.

"Sponson gunners standby, engage the stragglers, you know your targets gentlemen, it has not changed despite the size of our enemy, as puny as they are. Do not forget yourselves, you are soldiers of Praetoria, do not disgrace her. We will demonstrate our loyalty to the Princess here on this day, do not fail." Ajancius said, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

There had been no enemy that stood up to his squadron, his Baneblade, the Stormblade and the Stormlord. The general purpose tank that was capable of pulping the entrenched enemy, the Titan hunter that had a recorded 8 Titan Kills to its name in the short 300 years that it had been in service, and the anti infantry/light vehicle tank that shredded all those that got too close for comfort.

If the enemy wished to engage them, the squadron would be more than happy to demonstrate exactly why it was that they were the most powerful tanks in the Imperium.

Now.

Now it was a matter of waiting.

The Princess was a merciful Prophet and if they, the enemy decided that her mercy was not worth the effort that she had put into it, that she was not worthy of their attention, then they would pay the price.

The Imperial Guard were deployed and it was the moment of truth. For they of the Princess' Guard, it was time for them to finally unleash the true might of the Astra Militarum. The Titans were from the Adeptus Titanicus and they didn't count.

Eyes forward, their lasguns clenched in their hands, the Imperial Guard waited.

Soon.

The 30 minutes that the Princess had offered them would end so very soon.

Lieutenant Sulia of the Valhallans stood tall, her body upright, power sword in one hand, her laspistol in the left. She would as a true officer, lead her platoon into battle, those behind her ready to die for the Princess, their enemies being the damned heretics that had rejected her mercy and thrown their lot in with the traitors.

All enemies of mankind would be dealt with, the punishment being that of death.

"All units! Forward!" Came the crackling of the Vox Caster to her right, her Staff Sergeant looking at her with stoic eyes.

Nodding, she raised her sword and roared, "For the Emperor! For the Princess! Victory or Death!"

Leaping out of the makeshift trench, Sulia led the way forward, her body ready. At her neck was a whistle which she briefly holstered the sword to grip in her right hand, blowing on it as hard as she could. The same sound echoed out to her left and right as the other Valhallan platoons pushed themselves forward, the mass of men in their blue-grey uniforms (without the greatcoats sadly) jogging forward, the otherwise silent battlefield waiting for them.

Waiting. Waiting.

Now.

The fountains of dirt into the air, each one eerie in the silence, before the thunderous roars of the exploding artillery to their front reached them. The Basilisks had spoken and the Guardsmen would be following the artillery as it walked them in over the enemy positions, keeping their heads down low as the Valhallans rushed forward to tear them apart in close range.

Sulia grinned with unrepressed joy. The enemy was before her, her pistol was in her hand, her platoon at her rear. Was there anything else that she could ask for?

Oh right. To be there faster.

Blowing the whistle again Sulia broke into a run, determined not to be left behind.

"Push through! Do not allow the enemy to delay us any further!" Sulia shouted as she stood in the open, waving her sword forward at her men. The enemy had survived the initial barrage, or at the very least some of them did and now they were providing a fight, not a very good one mind you, but a fight.

The enemy would not be allowed to delay this any further, they had to be destroyed now lest the advance be delayed.

Sulia decided that she would lead by example and leapt forward, ignoring the incoming fire as her gravitic shield turned the enemy fire into harmless flashes of light and pushed forward, her power sword raised high, her laspistol crackling with deadly accuracy.

They were the Imperial Guard, they were the greatest humanity had to offer and they would not falter here. Not in the face of these heretics not in the face of their resistance.

Up close Sulia could see their faces, faces wrought with fear as they fired the weapons at her, only to have it all dispersed, all of it ineffective.

Foolish.

They tried to run then, they tried to get out of their trenches and flee to their rear, a task that failed as they were all gunned down by her platoon. There was no mercy to be had here, not now, not for those that had forsaken the Princess.

One had the gall to stand up to her, rushing forward with a guttural shout her blade flashed across and cleaved him down from shoulder to waist, his upper half sliding off in a hiss of steam.

They were the Imperial Guard, they would not falter.

Rodriguez cried.

He cried in terror, in fear, in pity, in sympathy, in empathy, in sorrow.

It had gone wrong.

It had gone so very wrong.

This wasn't meant to happen, it wasn't meant to be like this at all.

He had joined the army so that he would be able to receive some money that he could send home to his family, money that would allow his little sister to receive the medicine that she needed to stay alive, money that allowed his mother to buy the bread she needed to survive. The ration stickers that families of soldiers received had been enough for the family.

And yet… and yet here he was. He had thought that it would be something peaceful, that he would merely be guarding a border, a job that took no effort at all. And yet, here he was, here he was with his world collapsing around his very eyes.

It had gone all wrong, so very wrong.

Rodriguez cried, he cried with the sorrow that knew that everything was gone. His everything was gone.

He would die today.

It had begun when the Princess had said that she would be going to war against those that had attacked her. Rodriguez had seen what she had been doing, he had heard the news that she had sold the little boxes that let his family drink clean water, that she had sold the generators that gave them lights at night, heat to warm themselves by, he had heard this and more, thinking that the Princess cared about them, that she had worked to ensure that the poor could in some way benefit from what she was doing.

And yet.

And yet those in charge of the nation had come up and attacked her. They had tried to kill her, or at least tried to make her go insane.

She who could fight the Endbringers, who could bring peace to the world.

His own leaders. He had known that they were corrupt, all of them were corrupt, everyone knew that.

Yet… yet here it was that the news had come that they were now at war. That the actions of those that had professed to care about the people of Mexico had now put all of them in danger.

He knew what the Imperium did to those that were on the other side, he had read the stories and now everyone was in danger. That they were all going to die because of a select few, a few that cared nothing about everyone else.

Only.

Only she had given the offer to surrender, that they would be spared, that she would make sure that every civilian would be protected, that there would be nobody hunting them down and killing them.

He had hope again. The ups and the downs, the highs and the lows as he tried to piece out what was happening to his world.

The depths of despair, the elation of hope, all of it inside of him, all of it in his thoughts.

But news came then. That the cartels were no longer pretending to be separate from the government, that if they did not fight, the cartels would execute their families.

That all who retreated would be shot, that all who tried to surrender would be shot.

That they had no choice but to fight even though they knew that they stood no chance. That in the end, they would all die.

That the saviour of humanity was going to kill them… because she needed to, because they were in her way.

He understood this. If she won, his family would be safe, he would die but they would be safe.

That his resistance here was nothing but a simple stepping stone in her path.

Rodriguez had accepted his fate then. He knew that he was going to die.

But.

But he would not do it on the terms of those that were blackmailing him. Those that were threatening his family.

No, he would do it on his terms.

Rodriguez had walked over to those that had given the orders down, those that even now stood with their rifles in hand, ready to slaughter them if they ran.

With a calm sense of fatalism, he had raised his own and fired it on full automatic, waving it gently side to side, tearing them apart, the three of them toppling to the ground.

He had put down his rifle, unstrapped his chest rig, put down his ammunition, his radio, lightening himself, like that of preparing to enter the confession booth.

He had then walked to the front of the trench and on his knees, he prayed. To the God that he had prayed to for his entire life. A God that had seen him brought into the world, one that would not see him taken from it.

He prayed harder as he heard the fighting come close, only for the gunfire of those around him to stop. He peeked and was vaguely shocked to see them also kneeling, to see them also praying.

He smiled briefly at that even as his eyes watered.

The scuffling of boots above his head told him that he was about to die. Hunching his head, he prayed ever harder, clutching his rosary in his fists.

"Stop!" Came the shout. "Remember the Princess has decreed that all those who surrender are to be taken in. Do not kill them until we have determined their guilt." Came a voice from above him. One that did not sound happy.

No matter.

He would be alive tomorrow… how very strange.

He had been so ready to die.

Sagging on the back arches of his feet, head to the sky, Rodriguez considered that maybe God enjoyed playing jokes on others he thought deliriously.

Last edited: Dec 14, 2016

George12

Dec 14, 2016

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Threadmarks 060 Taylor goes Outside

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George12

OAMU

Dec 15, 2016

#533

3 days of not so serious ahead warning for those that don't like that so much.

The South American Campaign was proceeding as it had been expected to do so… to a point. The Imperial Guard was tearing through the various defensive positions placed by the defenders, whether that be concrete or mental.

Those who had lined up to fight were hammered into small pieces by the cannons of the Guard, those that had done so because they were forced in some manner had been freed by the decree of the Princess.

They would have the leverage that was held over them dissolved, they would then be given the chance to surrender and live.

Of course, that did not include all of them, there were still many fighting for the nebulous idea of 'nationhood', of freedom and the like. Words that had no meaning but were latched onto by those with nothing else as if they could be saved. It was something that all humans were unfortunately, guilty of, the Imperial Guard no better.

But here… now, the Guard were on the other side and there would be no clashing of ideologies, there would be no rational debate, they would be ground into dust to preserve the momentum of the advance, to ensure that things would continue to drive their way forward, that they weren't going to be ground to a halt and forced to prosecute their campaign with an uncharacteristic level of inefficiency and failure, problems that would allow for the enemy to build up their defences, that would allow for them to recruit more fighters, whether by force of voluntarily.

It was with this in mind that the Guard had planned to drive their way down in a series of offensives. The first had been a textbook engagement, a way for them smash their way through and more importantly, do it in such a way that there could be no mistake as to the might of the Guard. Their vehicles, their infantry, all poised to engage and destroy the enemy in such a way that demonstrated their dominance in all things pertaining to the battlefield.

The next waves once they pushed down to secure the area known as Mexico would be to drop in the Warhawks and the Elysian Drop-Troops to secure key strategic areas ahead of time to allow for them to push forward, a much less… flashy way of doing battle, but one that worked. The needs for their propaganda machine less so with the amount of recordings gleaned from the Mexico conflict.

The press would be allowed their moment of glory before the might of the Guard switched into full gear.

There were some very strange things happening, however. Things that were worrying. Their infantry had dropped down and discovered cities void of defenders, barracks abandoned, a city naked to the touch.

The enemy was giving up ground, they had barely pushed forward and yet there was no resistance, nothing that might be a threat. The prelude to an unknown strategy, one that was appearing to be far more subversive than it might have otherwise been.

Far too similar in the manner that the Genestealer or Cultist threat occurred. Striking from the shadows at a complacent garrison force. It would not have otherwise caused an issue to those that were of the Imperium, yet the Princess' decrees were still in effect.

No civilian casualties.

It would be difficult, to say the least.

As for what was happening in Brockton Bay, however, things were changing, the Princess was observing the conflict from the Princess Base alongside that of her council, watching each death, watching each kill. Watching as her Guard followed her orders and allowed for the cities closest to the border to be taken without a shot fired, their leaders wiped out before hand.

The push further south was one marked by speed, a lack of resistance, the tension ratcheting ever higher with every meter taken without a sign of resistance beyond the token defenders that barely numbered in the hundreds, the tens of thousands of others melting away as if they had never existed at all.

The expectation of sudden violence rising every second.

The knowledge that they were superior… but not this superior. Nothing ever went this easily, never. Something would be going wrong, there was no doubt of that.

Taylor watched it in stoic silence, her countenance hard, her eyes not so much.

It was said that eyes were the windows of the soul and her own were turbulent indeed. As if there was a storm that was trying to push out, ready to drench the world in hail.

One did not even need to look at her eyes to see that, the effect on the environment around her was enough for them to tell that. The hail that was slamming down around her as she sat on the throne that had been made for her, face brooding as she stared at the holo before her, fist on her cheek, armour gleaming.

The Princess was not amused and even the blindest of all of them could tell that.

It dampened the mood but it was of no concern, they were merely observers for this, their own commanders leading the way on the ground. It was they that had command of this entire endeavour, the Princess knew that she gave too much of a damn, that she was unable to make the decisions that would best serve the people of South America as well as her own.

If she interfered then she might save a few hundred lives, but the unseen cost of thousands as a result of her actions would occur offscreen. She would make herself feel good at the cost of many more.

She knew this.

She hated this.

Lisa could see it all too clearly.

They were hers and she would watch them… an admirable goal, a thought that would make her a paragon of virtue anywhere in the world if they knew of it. How many leaders sent soldiers to die and never actually watched it? How many orders had been given to their men without ever seeing the cost in anything but the most curated of settings?

Yet the Princess watched, and she did so knowing that she did not have to.

Only it was too much.

The lull making it even worse, her Primarch was not handling this well at all.

She was going to break if she kept this up and Lisa was not prepared to allow for that to happen. She had just gotten used to this and having a psychotic Primarch on her hands along with another one that thought of Endbringers as interesting pets was something she was not willing to entertain the thought of.

"Princess. I feel that it is time for a break, we've been here for 8 hours now, you need to be somewhere else." Lisa said, her voice unyielding. The Princess was what held all of this together, she could not be allowed to break.

"I…"

"Princess. Please." Lisa said, using her most effective weapons, weapons that would have been banned by the Geneva Convention if used anywhere else.

Puppy Dog Eyes Activate.

It was Super Effective

Thanks, Power.

"I… yes. Just… lead the way." She said, standing up and allowing for Lisa to guide her out.

The silent look of appreciation from Maxine was enough to have Lisa wink, Sergeant Black had been deployed and the Sister had been at odds and ends ever since without someone to needle, Colonel Knight was too… rigid and just a little fanatical, Piggot was busy with her work and Costa Brown was in another city entirely.

She had been trying to find things to do but comforting a Primarch that was feeling depressed was not one that she had looked forward to, understandable, it wasn't up there with the list of entertainment choices for Lisa either.

"So. Where do we go?" Taylor asked, the hail having been 'downgraded' into a soft mist of rain that trailed after her.

Lisa was always taken aback by just how… strange it looked. To have the water just wet the ground but then dry off as soon as the clouds moved elsewhere. Localised non-permanent weather (the plants tended to stay but even they melted away as if being eaten by the ground,) that served nothing more than to give an indication of the Princess' moods.

Still, she was leading her Princess to the Spire of Unity through a teleporter that had been established just for this occasion, one where the senior officials and council members were able to transit directly into the Spire of Unity.

Only… Lisa grinned slightly and gave a wink as she stepped through after nodding to the sanctioned psyker that was on standby… only it was right here.

They were inside of a small room, a room that was just large enough for a squad of Guardsmen, which there was one here, ready to defend the teleporter to the death and ready to destroy it if the situation became untenable.

Why? It was because this… this was the best room in the entire building.

Lisa walked on through the door, the Princess trailing after her and only grinned wider at the expression on Piggot's face as she looked up from whatever it was she was trying to do.

Requests from other cities for more troopers to be stationed in the Spire of Unity

Well, wasn't that just the most interesting thing? Maybe they were a little worried about Costa Brown's speech and wanted their heroes away from the government?

Still, the expression on Piggot's face was enough to shake Taylor out of her mood… at least temporarily. The way she looked as if there had been a very loud and wet fart in the room, right next to her face was hilarious. The amusement that filtered through the link to Lisa causing her to smile as well.

"Hello Director, we are just here for a tour of the city. Please feel free to ignore us." Lisa said as she walked out the front door, discreetly looking out the corner of her eye for Piggot's reaction.

Disappointingly there wasn't one, but the poker face was just as good now that she thought about it. It was certainly… charming… lol (or so she would say if she was a terrible human being).

As Taylor walked out as well, Lisa gave into her urge to snort after she closed the door. Laughter barely muffled as she made her way through.

"Thank you," Taylor said, the mist having dissolved to turn into sunshine. As in literal God rays that shined down from little clouds, just how she did that Lisa had no idea but it was certainly striking.

Lisa didn't say anything, just patting her Primarch on the back as she wheezed out a breath. It turns out that even Primarchs needed to breathe, who knew huh? Well, she did, but it was the point of the matter.

"Why does the teleporter lead to Piggot's office?" Taylor asked as she got herself back to normal.

"It doesn't, it usually leads to the room that Maxine had set up for you, but she thought it would be nice for her to be able to talk directly with Piggot when she felt like it so she had another one next to Piggot's office," Lisa said, leaving out the implication that they shouldn't have done that.

Taylor shook her head and followed as Lisa led her to grav lift at the end of the corridor. There was an elevator but that wasn't as cool as dropping down the Grav lift, no, the lift was the most awesome way to make an entrance that didn't involve explosions or fire. It was hidden behind blastdoors that would only open for Piggot, a member of the council or a Colonel equivalent of the Guard.

The two of them jumped into the small circular hole that marked the Grav lift's entrance, it being a simple hole straight down into the main foyer of the Spire of Unity. More of an escape route than an actual proper lift, a way for the director of the Brockton Bay PRT to escape in case of an attack, she was after all awfully exposed there in her office… which now had plasteel bars over the windows… on both sides.

Afraid of heights

You don't say?

As they fell down, Lisa smiled, this was going to be an entrance that was for sure.

The fall was one that took roughly a minute, a full minute of falling which Lisa only knew because of the chronometer watch (she was thinking like them now, dammit) on her wrist.

Down. Straight down. Her feet ready… and now. The light at the bottom was growing larger and Lisa grinned, this was it.

The tunnel connected to multiple slides and the like, all for the higher ranking members of the local government authorities to escape out of, Protectorate members as well, the main foyer having a small fence to keep people from accidentally walking onto it. The slides all connected to the central shaft that was Piggot's escape route, the sight of people dropping down a common one since it was certainly a rush.

Only… well, this was the Princess and this was going to be awesome.

Lisa dropped down, (to much ignoring). She was mildy disappointed but it was Taylor that was going to be the big show.

And as she dropped down Lisa only widened her grin.

Aaaaand Action!

George12

Dec 15, 2016

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Threadmarks 061 Taylor goes Outside

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George12

OAMU

Dec 15, 2016

#534

"It's the Princess!" Called out a random stranger.

"Oh, my god. (Fuck wait). Oh, my God-Emperor! It is the Princess!" Shouted a different random stranger.

"Holy shit." Said another unhelpfully.

Lisa on her part grinned as she stepped aside for the Princess to make her first public debut that didn't involve her doing something related to declaring war or ending wars.

As for Taylor… well, she was out of her element but Lisa had made sure that everything would be in place that she wasn't going to be overwhelmed… just pushed out of her comfort zone a little bit.

Taylor needed to stop being so… down on everything and accept that there were some people that were happy. She knew it empirically, now was the time to find it out personally.

She was going to need to appear in public some time, and the longer she delayed it the worst it got. She was coasting on a wave of positive PR, but the longer she avoided a personal appearance, the more that she would be regarded as a recluse and that was bad. She needed to be in the open, especially a Primarch that was like her. Hiding Magnus away was a good idea, not so for the extremely photogenic Princess who had enough of an aura of innocence about her that certainly would make her a hit online.

Lisa vaguely recalled Alec playing a translated Japanese game called "Idolmaster" and she considered that this was rather similar. A smile at that and Lisa stood back to let the Princess work her magic.

The spores lightly dusting the area around her invisibly calming down the crowd and to make it easier for her to do her shtick without being interrupted by rabid potential fans or whatever it was these people were.

LISA! What are you doing! Help me!

Came Taylor's voice.

No can do Taylor, this is your ball here. Don't worry you'll be fine, I had Hurosius prime the crowd for you.

Lisa replied, leaning back against the desk as she watched Taylor get to work.

Damn you Lisa. I'll get you back for this!

Taylor cried out piteously before she took a deep breath and raised her hands.

"Everyone. Please! Calm down. One at a time please!" She said, her voice carrying out over the crowd, calming them down.

For a brief moment, there was a look of awe on all of their faces, hearing the Princess speak was something that none of them had actually experienced in person before and Lisa could understand their expressions. It was certainly something the first time you heard it, the second hand effect from videos on the internet just didn't have the same effect.

It was like eating real chocolate and Hersheys, one just… was so much different it might as well not be the real thing. The way the voice reverberated inside of the soul, the way that her specific one just massaged it, made it feel as if it were at once safe but also the greatest thing in the world. The way that it served to gently pacify the soul, bringing it to a level of contentment that many had never ever reached before, giving them a glimpse of what it could be like at her side.

There would no doubt be many who would become addicted to her voice if they heard it enough times that was for sure.

All of the Primarchs were the same, but in different ways, she had been told. Magnus' lead to a feeling of curiosity, Leman's and a few others to battle lust, Guilliman's to forcefully induced calm and the like. They all had psykic power even if they chose to not exercise it, or if they didn't know how, the voice being the one thing they all had in common.

As the crowd stared at her, a few of them going slack faced, sleepy, them wanting to go to simply sit down like children and listen to her tell a story, Taylor looked on with undisguised embarrassment and confusion.

She had never actually seen this effect before, the way her Guardsmen just reacted as if nothing had happened had led her into thinking that her voice was nothing special was a disservice that Lisa aimed to rectify today. She would be made aware of just how powerful her voice was, just how much of it was something that would be considered her greatest weapon anywhere else.

Don't say umm!

Lisa sent quickly catching the telltale signs on Taylor's face. She couldn't be allowed to look like she didn't know what she was doing.

Sure it made her look cute and appeal to a certain demographic, it also made her look confused, not a look one wanted on the commander of one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful country on the planet. What with the North American militaries in disarray at the widespread corruption that had been revealed, an effect that had broken many of the norms, ones that had allowed for some states to unofficially segregate until it was solved, the military behaving the same way and units mutinied.

They were there to defend America, and the would do so gladly, but throwing themselves at the Princess' Guard because some fucker with money wanted them to do so? No, thank you.

The entire country was in a state of extreme tension, everything for the average civilian was still proceeding as it always had, but even they could feel it in the air. A single match and the entire country would go up in flames.

As for Taylor, Lisa felt a hint of defiance bleed through their soul link and smiled in response. She was opening up just a little more and that was always a good thing. If she kept things bottled up it would never end well, the very public history of the other Primarchs was proof enough about that idea.

"Good morning. I'm the one you call the Princess. It is good to meet you." She said, smiling at them that had some faces going dopey in response.

Dammit, she was good at this, even if it was mainly her power doing the heavy lifting here.

"Good to meet you too!" Came the call, Lisa almost laughing in response. They were behaving like the children that she had likened them to, she would never actually say that out loud, it would get her crucified that was for sure.

"Ummm. Can I ask you a question." Came a voice, a rather timid man to the front, he was a big one, muscles that looked like slabs laid onto his bones.

"Yes. Please do." Taylor said, her voice full of grace. It always amazed Lisa how Taylor was able to do that, just turn into this someone that looked like she had years of experience on the public speaking sphere. She would need to get this part of her personality down pat so that she would be able to call it whenever, it would be important in the future Lisa was sure.

"Ummm. Are you single?" He asked. Lisa nearly smashed her head onto the desk behind her, it was either that or stifle the biggest damned laugh that she had ever had.

It shouldn't have been funny really, the way that the people in the audience were preparing to hang on her every word was just the slightest bit disturbing. If she said no then there were going to be fantasies the world over, if she said yes then whoever it was better never come out in public or they were going to be shot by an Ork Sniper.

"Yes I am." Said Taylor after a slight pause, no doubt trying to work out the hidden meaning behind the question. It was just a little… direct after all.

He didn't say anything in response, just pumping his fist.

"What is your favourite colour!?" Called out another man in the back of the crowd, his face hidden by his height and the above average little group that stood before him.

"Lavender," Taylor replied, her face still slightly confused by what was happening. They were too in awe of her to ask the hard hitting questions, that and the idea of trying to put a Primarch on the spot was just the slightest bit… insane when it came down to it. If someone wanted to try and do that, Lisa wasn't going to stop them, just watch as the crowd beat them half to death. With just a few words Taylor had managed to get them on her side and that was certainly a master effect if Lisa ever saw it.

Making people feel content through her voice, she wondered how they were going to spin that, links to opiates perhaps? A walking drug dispensary?

Hurosius was going to have his work cut out for him trying to spin this the right way without getting the world up in arms. Birdcage was a word that could be thrown around far too easily.

"What is your…"

Lisa tuned out slightly, they were going to be softballing Taylor questions which eased her worries. Her own mission in coming here was just to get Taylor speaking to the average person, just trying to get her to deal with normal people for once, to see just what it was she had done for them, to see how grateful they were and all that noise. It was something that Taylor needed to see first hand, the fan mail had been there but words were abstract, their meaning lost in translation from the medium that was paper.

Words directly from their mouths, their body language, their tone of voice, their expressions, all of that was something that was certainly… different and would serve to certainly give Taylor the impression that she was actually pretty important when it came down to it.

Hopefully it would be enough to balance out the thoughts that were no doubt clogging up Taylor's mind, the ones that were chasing themselves around and around about how much death was on her hands directly, how much of it was directly a result of her policies, of what she had chosen to do regarding the world.

It was either this or watch Taylor become increasingly cold with the way she dealt with the world.

Sure it had been influenced by the Council but they weren't as subtle as they thought they were, only Maxine was able to hold a proper poker face, but when they had souls that were bared to the world, well, for a Psyker of Taylor's power it wasn't difficult to work out the truth. Particularly that of the truth of what their engagement of South Africa was all about.

It was intended as a distraction that would allow for the council, mainly everyone except for Lisa to strike out at those that had attacked Taylor in such a subversive manner in the first place.

That they had done so in the first place had earned them a very painful punishment that was for certain.

Only Chief Director of the PRT Costa Brown had changed that with her speech that had called them all out, leaving the Princess' Guard at odds and ends. They were unable to actually do much with that much scrutiny on the targets, scrutiny that was going to make something like attacking the enemy several times more difficult, or waging a subversive campaign on them.

They had been stymied in that regard but the intent had been there.

Taylor had regarded it as flattering in a strange 'this psychopath really likes you' kind of way, but also in mild horror. That they would be so zealous in her name was something that Taylor hadn't quite been fully aware of at this point and it had really knocked her for a loop that was for certain.

Still, she understood at least partially why and Lisa approved of her being open minded enough about the affair. She would need them and necessity made for strange bedfellows that was for sure.

They were sincerely trying to help her and it wasn't just the council, it was the entire Guard. The way that they treated her like some valuable little child to be hidden away. It was annoying for the Primarch and she was going to be reacting that much was for sure. The were going to be sat down and given a very powerful heart to heart talk.

She was young, yes, but she could also fight her own battles. If they attacked her directly, she would respond personally, she didn't need for them to… do the things with the knives that they had planned to do.

Taylor was growing stronger mentally and harder.

She wasn't going to be the weak little girl that she had been before or something to that effect. She cared, but she was tempering that caring with an understanding that some things were needed.

Lisa approved and as she watched Taylor create an ardent little fanbase of converts, she considered that Taylor was maturing. Whether or not this was a positive thing was something that had to considered, however… her innocence was slowly dying and that… that was unfortunate.

Though that was not dead yet, Taylor hadn't worked out that Lisa was also here to work out who hated her and the predominant subversive line of thinking, all the better to adapt and plan for the future. They would be coming out of the woodwork with her here right there… just asking to be thought hateful thoughts at.

Taylor was the bait and they would be biting… hopefully.

George12

Dec 15, 2016

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Threadmarks 062 Taylor goes Outside

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George12

OAMU

Dec 15, 2016

#535

Lisa smiled as she watched Taylor take a tour of the Brockton Bay Medical Center. A truly massive construction that not took up 4 entire Hab Blocks, connected by the various skyways, tunnels and the like. A series of buildings that took care of most of the serious wounds and the like in the city and was also the site of the largest amount of foreign care in the world.

Many of those with terminal cancer, those that had diseases previously untreatable, those that were suffering from problems undiagnosable, and more were making their way to the city of Brockton Bay to be treated here. The Princess having decreed that all treatment would be free and available to everyone, those coming here being treated by the Sisters Hospitaller and their medical genius.

They came as skeptics in many cases, all of them on their last legs, only for them to leave as converts, ready to spread the word to that of the other cities, of the other countries, of the other continents. A smaller impact but one that would resonate much more powerfully that was for certain, those that were saved from the brink of death tended to be just a little more grateful when it came down to it.

As for what she was doing her, Lisa was taking her on a tour of the city, a city that she had ordered to be constructed, a city that she had filled with vibrant plant life (much to the consternation of various environmentalists, her filling the city with plants that might attack and destroy other plants, destroying the local and regional ecosystem), a city that was hers in all but name.

It was a city that loved her, but she had never gone and walked amongst its populace, one that worshipped her (in a mental sense, there had been no shrines… that Lisa knew of), and one that was willing to do much to continue staying here, them loving their lives.

Here in the hospital, there were many of them just trying to get close enough that they could thank her for saving their lives, many of them that wanted to touch her and perhaps through osmosis take some of her perceived divinity.

Some of it was very disturbing but it was necessary. She needed to get out and develop her own 'cult' for lack of a better term to spread her message, any and every avenue as the Mechanicus liked to say.

They were playing with the human mind, to help when they were at their lowest and to indoctrinate them into the care of the Princess, the Hospital being yet another way to implant the thoughts of a benevolent Princess into the minds of they who passed through its wards, their minds open to the various little pamphlets, the TV shows from the Imperium and more.

They had been around the city now, the various Hab Blocks chosen at random (they had to be, they all looked the same except for the plants on them, the interiors the same, the designs identical), the peoples inside all displaying the same kind of response. First came the disbelief, them not able to comprehend that it was actually the Princess, then came the elation, the questions, and then the thanks.

It had been very amusing to Lisa and she thought Taylor would find it hilarious as well once she got over the shock. That people were actually thanking her for what she did had not actually been considered by the girl and Lisa felt the urge to facepalm at that. She was so… ugh.

She was going to be working on that. Taylor needed to be more positive dammit.

There were those that were hanging back… not… subversive. But it would not take much for them to be so, a threat. That there were those like that in the city of Brockton was a concern. The possibility of an internal attack was far too low to worry about, the fact that it could happen was certainly a problem. One that would need resolving sometime in the future.

Still, they had covered much of the city, the Regimental barracks inside of the city as well, the ones that allowed for their patrols of the city and the like. They had been much more stoic, but the Cadians on duty were noticeably more polished and puffed up than usual.

The city was rejoicing that the Princess was walking inside of it, the quiet atmosphere of joy and contentment that followed her a sign of that.

Still, their job here was almost done, time to get away from here.

Too much exposure and she would lose her allure, become normal and that would be bad.

If they expected for her to show up, and she didn't? Well that was just asking for trouble.

Time to go

Lisa sent, waiting for Taylor to acknowledge her.

Ok, just give me a second here. I can just… help her

Taylor cared and that was… part of why Lisa was here in the first place, but if she cared too much it was going to be a liability for her.

Trying to change that was going to take more than Lisa was willing to pay right now, the changes wrought on her had been done so at the cost of a great many lives, that was certainly not the greatest idea.

"Thank you for your time. But I must get going, there are tasks for me to accomplish." Taylor said, her voice soft as she reached out to grab Lisa's hand and warped them to the front of the Spire, the visitation area.

Taylor then warped them right into the service lift and then again all the way up, she needed to know what she was warping into and it certainly made things easier to be able to see or at least know what she was warping to, Magnus had explained. Or at least that was the case when she was carrying a passenger around, warping into the middle of rock and the like was never enjoyable, you tended to die rather horrifically if you did.

They popped their way up and finally emerged on a balcony somewhere halfway up the Spire, looking down on the city that was an indistinct blob from this high up.

"I never realised." Came Taylor's voice to Lisa's right, one that was full of wonder and sadness.

"That they are thanking you? That you saved so many lives?" Lisa asked, looking at Taylor from the corner of her eye.

"I knew. I… I just didn't know. The numbers on paper aren't the same as seeing it in reality." She said.

"Well, now you do. You've saved lives, Taylor, I don't know what else to tell you, you're a miracle worker even if it wasn't you directly."

"I… I didn't know. But… all those people Lisa. All of them are looking at me to protect them. What do I do?" Ah… dammit. This was the Taylor that Lisa knew, the one that had to find a downside even if there wasn't one. Why couldn't she accept that she was saving lives and get on with it instead of thinking of more problems that she needed to solve?

She was going to work and worry herself into a grave at this rate… or maybe not, she was immortal, but it was the thought that counted.

"I know. I know. It's just… they're depending on me you know? They look up to me. I… I can't just leave them." She said, her voice resolute.

"And what do you think you're going to be doing? More regiments?" Lisa asked, not sure as to what exactly Taylor was planning. This… was going to be damned weird she was sure of it.

"What I need to," Taylor said, walking off the Balcony, stepping on the air and just… pushing her way forward heedless of the fact that she had just kicked physics in the face and taken its firstborn.

"Taylor!" Lisa called out, her voice full of worry. That was a voice that had not been the usual Taylor one, that was one that sounded far too much like Magnus inside of his laboratory for her liking.

"Dammit Taylor! Don't do this to me. I already have one Magnus to deal with! I don't need another!" Lisa called out.

"Let her go. I was expecting to happen earlier but it looks like she's finally going to be breaking." Magnus said from behind her.

"Breaking?" As in breaking her… mind breaking?

"Yes, it's something all of us Primarchs do. We're all the natural elements of humanity taken to extremes, but I'm sure that you knew that. Which means that we embody humanity's drive, the single minded nature that allowed for us to take on the world when it was nothing but sticks and fire, to conquer the galaxy with nothing but flesh and determination. At the same time, we also embody humanity's creativity that allowed for us to even think of conquering the stars in the first place. All of us express this in different ways, me with my research, Perturabo with his… designs, Guilliman with his ever increasing efficiency, and you get the idea.

"We need to pretend to be normal humans at least mentally so that we do not terrorize the rest of humanity, but sometimes we can't hold it back anymore and we need to release the pent up pressures. The drive and the creativity combine into a single minded focus to express ourselves in such a way that it is impossible to break us out of unless you want to be attacked by a temporarily insane Primarch." Magnus explained, warping a mug of coffee into Lisa's hand to offset the cold of being this far up.

"So… she's about to… do her thing?" Lisa asked, watching her Primarch as she kept walking forward to the center of the city.

"Yes. I have been rather interested in seeing what it would be and I've been keeping tabs on her. They were there to watch out for Shard involvement but they also work here in a pinch." He said, leaning forward as if what was about to happen next was the most interesting thing in the world.

"And she has to do this?" Lisa asked, her voice filled with doubt and a rather high level of… confusedness (that was not a word).

"Oh yes. Unless you want her to turn this continent into a garden filled with man eating plants... Like Catachan." Magnus said, giving a delicate little shudder as he did so.

"She wouldn't do that, would she? She cares too much about everyone else to do that!" Lisa exclaimed, leaning forward on the railing, concern in her eyes.

Dammit Taylor, when you go and do something, you have to do it as loudly as possible don't you!

"Well, the longer that you keep the urge suppressed, the more extreme the final result will be when it is finally expressed," Magnus said, flicking his fingers to drop a coat on the now teeth chattering Lisa. It was damned cold up here and a Valhallan great coat while massive, also kept her warm.

That was a plus at least.

A plus with a massive number of downsides, whatever it was Taylor was about to do was going to be involving the entire city at this rate and Lisa wasn't sure she would be able to communicate to her, let alone stop her.

And dammit all that was scary.

The possibility of Taylor going off the deep end had always been there, but it had never expressed itself in such a way. Lisa had assumed that she would at least be reasonable about the whole thing, planning to use their soul bond as a way for her to reason her out of whatever it was she was doing.

But in this case, nothing was working and Taylor was ignoring her.

They were going to have words when Taylor came back.

She better come back.

If Taylor was going to do something like create a giant forest filled with man-eating plants, Lisa was going to be slapping her across the back of the head with a rolled up newspaper if that was what it took.

"Don't worry so much. Nothing is going to happen to her. None of the other Primarchs have ever hurt themselves from their episodes." Magnus said, his voice filled with amusement.

"27 Primarchs is not a good sample size! You're meant to be the sciency one, isn't knowing that your job?" Lisa said, just a little more harshly than she had intended.

Instead of being offended Magnus just chuckled at her.

"Do not worry about it. I'm here if things go badly for her." He said, walking forward and leaning against the railing next to Lisa.

"What about the people of the city?" She asked.

"They are just citizens, you can always get some more. But they are rather important to her, I'll keep them safe if that's what she wants." He said, sighing in resignation.

George12

Dec 15, 2016

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Threadmarks 063 Taylor goes Outside

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George12

OAMU

Dec 16, 2016

#541

As Taylor strode forward, she could distantly hear the shouts of Lisa behind her. Her soul bond being rather vocal about her not doing whatever it was she was about to do. It was just unfortunate that she didn't understand that she couldn't, she… she had to do this.

She wasn't sure what it was.

A drive.

A need.

It was forcing her to walk forward, to just keep going, to just… be there.

Taylor was distantly aware of Magnus being in the area and she was glad. If she fell than Magnus would be able to catch her.

She allowed her face to relax, it naturally curling up into a smile that was definitely not what she was used to having on her face. It was going to be sore after today she was sure, she had smiled more today than she ever had in her life… at least before her mother had died.

The need was pricking at her.

She wasn't sure exactly what it was but her fingertips were just itching, her feet, her skin, her everything.

It was not an itch that one had to scratch, but rather an itch that demanded she do something. She didn't know what it was. But she knew that if she reached the location ahead of her, she would know. Whatever it was, was waiting for her. She just had to reach it in time for it to matter.

Or was that the need talking? She had to hurry up, she had to get there faster, to reach there before the need grew too large.

But if she did then she just knew that it would be a bad idea. She could not afford to draw on the Warp anymore than she already was.

Why?

She didn't know.

She just knew that it was nearly there.

She was nearly there.

Yes.

Soon.

A few more steps.

Just… forward.

More.

Taylor felt a mild irritation in the back of her mind but it was being suppressed like everything else she was feeling, the feeling just… melting its way through her as fast as it came.

The need was drowning out everything else and she was glad, she was sure that if it had been allowed to do whatever it wanted, she would have gone insane.

The… just… the everything that was pressing down on her was just too much.

She… couldn't.

It was too much.

Left foot forward.

Right, foot forward.

Left food forward.

Right, foot forward.

Here.

It was here.

How did she know that?

No matter.

It was here.

Taylor closed her eyes and allowed herself to move.

It was as if she were no longer in control of her body, but also fully in control to a degree that she had never before felt.

Her body was moving with such exact precision that not even the Mechanicus could replicate it.

Her arms held out at her sides, elbows crooked to a perfect angle, her neck ramrod straight, hair arranged in such a way that it allowed the exact amount of sunlight through it.

Everything had to be perfect.

She didn't know why. She just knew that it had to be right.

Eyes closed, Taylor began to dance.

Right foot sweep forward.

Dip left knee.

Right, foot sweep to the left.

Hands to the front.

Hands out to the side.

Left leg extending.

Right root swing right.

Allow momentum to spin around.

Left toes push up and leap.

And so it went, Taylor dancing lightly in complete silence, even the sound of the air moving this high up being absent. She was moving to the sounds of an invisible chorus, one that wanted for her to do something, that wanted her to just dance.

And so she did. The feeling of power wrapping around her becoming increasingly comfortable for her as she did so, the itching sensation fading away as she drew more and more power, it crackling faintly in the air as she did so.

The dance carried her over the city of Brockton, her feet bouncing her up and down, her face a moue of utter serenity, no signs of exertion as she made leaps that took her from one half of the city to the next.

The invisible choreographer had their work cut out for them today as she made herself move with increasing speed, never once looking at if it took any effort at all.

And.

Finish.

Feet once again together, her hands in front of her, her face raised up to the sky in exultation.

Opening her eyes again Taylor could see that plants that usually followed her footsteps had followed her here as well. The trails not actually disappearing but instead hanging in the air with their roots dangling freely in the sky. The rays of sunlight and the small clouds illuminating them as they did so, the plants forming a massive pattern that looked vaguely like that of a ritual pattern, one that wasn't quite… Chaos, but it was… something.

It was something.

She would have stared at it longer, tried to puzzle it out, but the need was upon her again.

Taylor surrendered herself to it, the feeling one that she was growing increasingly comfortable with, something that should have scared her… yet it did not.

Maybe when she was sane again she would allow herself the liberty to care.

Closing her eyes again, Taylor allowed herself to be subsumed again.

The power was still there, waiting for her to draw upon it, eagerly crackling in the sky around her, sounding to her ears more and more like a child that was eager to please. It was saturating the air around her and she knew that at some point it was going to start sulking if she didn't do anything with it.

And so she did.

Her hands twisting in the air and shifting the pattern of the plants around her, the entire design compressing around her until it was a fraction of the size, arranged in a complicated circle around her.

She could make out the designs of leaves and the like.

Strange.

No matter. She couldn't be paying attention to them. She… she needed… she needed to fulfil the need.

Smaller.

Now.

She felt the energy, the energy that surrounded her.

The energy that demanded she use it.

But.

Not right now.

No.

Need to design. Need to make it… make it work.

Taylor scrunched her eyes.

The world would not interfere.

Not now.

She needed to close her eyes.

Before her were the designs. The structure.

It was like when she used her powers before.

Only this was different, so very different.

It was still like the method that she had used before.

Only now… now it was so much more.

She would need to imbue her power in them.

Her children.

Yes.

They were going to be her children.

Taylor closed her eyes and allowed the power to flow through her.

Hands raised she prepared to draw them out of the ground.

But first, she would need to plant the seeds.

Ensure that it was going to be done correctly, to seed the city with her embryonic children.

First would be their natures, they would be plant-like in nature, yet they would also be animalistic...human, each one possessing an intelligence.

Yes.

An ability to learn, an ability to communicate, the adapt, to feel empathy, to feel emotion.

Each one would be a child when they started.

They would close their eyes and observe the world around them when they were born, growing their minds, growing their abilities, growing their control over their own ability.

Yet intelligence let loose upon the world was an immature work, a work that was destined to fail.

No.

She needed to give them natures, needed to ensure that they would grow and be like her own, each one ready to do as she desired as she bid. They were her children and mother knew best.

Yes.

They would be her protectors, the protectors of those that could not protect themselves in a world that wanted so very much to hurt them.

Guardians.

They would be her Guardians and they would protect.

She looked within herself.

She found it.

The feeling that made her what she was. The feeling of love, of care. The feeling that demanded she protect, that demanded she cherish.

Taylor brought it to the surface and fed a small part of it into her children, that they would feel what their mother felt, that they would be moulded as their mother had been.

In mind and in spirit they would be like her.

Then came their bodies, she would make them powerful.

As powerful as she could possibly make them, the greatest of her creations to date.

Imbuing each one with the power of the Warp, capable of drawing energy and matter, of being more than they were.

Capable of growing to meet the larger threats or shrinking to meet those smaller.

Capable of adapting their own bodies to meet the threats of those before them.

Each one of them capable of communicating with each other and Taylor herself.

There would be no attacks, there would be no offensive movements, they would only defend for they were the Guardians.

Each would be granted powers beyond belief for their task, to defend the innocent, to defend her people.

No offensive abilities at all, no means of an attack, for the shield did not demand. It acted and it protected.

They would not move unless to protect, they would not move even if attacked.

Each one was her resolution to the world.

They would look different one and all in order that they be distinguished.

Taylor did not give them names, for they would earn them from the peoples they protected.

And with that, she seeded the areas around the city with them, dozens of them.

Hands raised to the sky she gave them power, gave them doors through which they themselves could open for greater strength. Everything that was inside of her, pulled out. The energy that demanded she use it crackling louder and louder before it too dissipated.

The pattern under her feet spreading out to spear the growing giants, the plants converting into a radiant light.

The Guardians stood tall, growing ever higher, ever wider, ever tougher. Their bodies each a massive mountain of strength. Hands raised into the air, each of them waited, waited for her to give them life.

They had been moulded as of clay and not she needed to give them souls.

Like an umbilical cord, the light sucked the energy from Taylor, bequeathing each of them more and more until they were finally able to stand on their own two feet, their own cores able to handle the rest, capable of drawing energy from the Warp in much the same way that their mother did.

As for Taylor, she opened her eyes again, her head tilted up at the sun.

And she fell, her body spent.

Only to be caught, Magnus' face above hers, a smile on his lips.

"I have so many questions for you sister, but they can wait." He said as he warped to Lisa and picked her up too, taking the two of them back to Princess Base.

Inside of it, he placed them down as if they were the most vulnerable creatures in the world (well, one of them was) and chuckled as he left them to their own devices, a promise to return on his lips.

As for Lisa, she turned to Taylor who was now barely able to stay awake, her body tilted backwards as the plants that customarily surrounded her, burst up to provide a bed in which she could lay her head.

"Are you okay now Taylor?" Lisa asked, moving to her side and taking one of her hands into her own, face full of concern for the exhausted Primarch.

"Yes, Lisa. I'm fine. I'm more than fine… I'm… I'm… fulfilled Lisa. I have taken so much… so much. I needed to give. Needed to return it. I'm… I'm happy Lisa. So very happy." Taylor said, slurring her words, eyes barely able to focus on Lisa, head lolling about.

"Well… I'm glad then. Why don't you get some sleep and we'll talk more when you wake up?" Lisa said, laying Taylor's hand on her stomach as the Primarch drifted off.

Now… now it was a matter of heading out, alerting Hurosius to the new situation and bunkering up as the world once again exploded with news regarding something else that the Princess had done.

Fun times…

Endbringers in Brockton? What was the point of removing Nilbog if you were just going to replace him?

Ooooh, this was a nightmare.

57Once again the infant Primarch shocked the world. Creating what were in their eyes, enormous creatures that looked as if they were Endbringers, only they were several times the size that one usually needed to be if one wanted to be considered one. Each one was 100 meters tall… while hunched over.

Each one was what looked to be an enormous plant of some kind, a tree that also looked far too alive to be a just a plant, not with the amount of effort that had been needed to create them.

It had started after the Princess' tour of the city, which itself had been something of an extravaganza. She made her way into the foyer of the Spire of Unity to start off with, answering some questions, smiling, shaking hands, talking, before moving to various different areas, each time repeating the same process. Smiling at people, talking to them, having fun and generally showing the people of the city that the Princess was a really good person.

She toured the hospital that she had ordered to be built, she had toured the Hab Blocks, giggling at the various antics of the people around, having the time of her life. Or so they thought. They weren't sure about what it was that the Princess was thinking, but she certainly looked as if she was enjoying herself, and the way she talked made them feel as if they were the happiest they had ever been.

It was a master effect they were sure, but when all it did was make them feel happier… well, it certainly wasn't something that they were going to be complaining about. That is until they realised just how... strange it was.

Although it looked to be something that was rather normal perhaps.

Regardless the Princess was around and she had made her presence known and she was certainly something that brought joy into the lives of those around her.

Her disappearance and sudden reappearance in the middle of the sky above Brockton had become evident from the bright light, the way it shined and the natural sunlight dimmed while she was up there.

The entire city had come out onto the streets, had poked their heads out of windows, climbed onto rooftops or watched the live footage from the television if they couldn't fit, the everything was packed with humanity.

They watched for an hour as the Princess danced, streaming across the sky, her body trailing her signature plants, themselves shining, the massive pattern that she had wrought in the sky being one that resembled that of old Nordic depictions of Yggdrasil. The tree that held up the multiverse.

It was beautiful and none of them were able to express anything except… happiness as they gazed up at it. Their thoughts were placid, their minds focused entirely upon the figure above their heads. Anything that might be of concern did not register, everything else did not register. For there was only the Princess.

What room they had for worry about the fact there was a giant pattern of unknown origin in the skies above them being eradicated by the fact that their entire being was filled with a sense of contentment.

The Princess had… had made them feel good and that was all they could feel.

As for what happened next… well, she stopped, pausing for a minute before contracting the vast pattern around her and then… nothing.

Except for a feeling that the sky was being filled with static, their bodies itching from the little phantom sensations that covered their bodies, that had their clothes fluttering despite the complete lack of air movement.

Then… then came the next part.

She lifted her arms and the ground itself began to rumble with what was the enormous figures of the giant plants rising from the ground. Thankfully the buildings were designed sturdily enough that they didn't collapse when the plant creatures rose up, instead they were able to hold, not even dropping over the glasses of water on the various pieces of furniture.

Which should have been suspicious... really.

They were well designed, they weren't that well designed. Something else was at play but in the tree heat of the moment who cared about some dihydrogen monoxide that could have spilt on the floor and might possibly have caused people to slip and crack their skulls.

The pattern then dissolved into light that shot into each of the monsters as they grew, like some kind of umbilical cord that disappeared into roughly where their navels should be, each of them standing tall, looking as if they were growing wider, growing tougher, their skin becoming weathered, each one gaining more character outside of their different appearances.

The plant monsters stood tall, their bodies upright, reaching up to the Princess, their arms outstretched as if they were trying to gather her into their arms or to grab her out of the air. Each one looking unique in terms of their facial features, their bodies and even their general shape. Some looked to have pot bellies, some looked as if they had some kind of shell on their backs, others as if they were made of a million little vines and more. Some of them even looked as if they had multiple heads or no heads at all, the only generalised feature linking them was that they were vaguely humanoid and plant-like.

They stood tall, and with a word from the Princess they turned and assumed their hunched postures. Each facing out of the city to the outside and possibly hostile world.

GUARD MY PEOPLE

She had said, her voice booming out through the entire city, each of them feeling secure as her voice washed over them. That the Guardians as they had begun calling them, would indeed protect the city. They weren't moving but they were clearly designed to move, otherwise, why would they be there at all?

There were 64 of them in total, a quarter of them standing in the waters around the city itself, their roots digging deep into the seabed, each one as if it were made from the strongest of stones, unable to be pierced in the same manner as the Forest of Ellisburg. The PRT had tried, the Protectorate had tried and what they could gather only told them more of nothing, they were exactly the same as the Forest of Ellisburg. Their first cursory investigations telling them nothing that they did not already know.

The ground around each was so fertile that anything that was placed there would grow to maturity in a matter of days, each more vibrant and filled with nutrition than any other comparable fruit or vegetable. Their flowers, their blooms each bringing the same kind of feeling to those that gazed on them and breathed in the pollen.

Those that sat in the shade beneath each one felt themselves feeling the same as when the Princess had spoken to them, each one radiating an aura of contentment and happiness. Each one attracting hundreds of people a day to sit at the base, some of the more adventurous trying to climb it, their bodies contorting as they scrambled to reach the top. Some were harder to climb than others, an immature rating scale that did much to alleviate the possible dangers in the eyes of the civilians.

Those of the PRT had tried to analyze the beasts again at a later date, a more thorough investigation, each of them unable to do so for the same reason as the Forest of Ellisburg, the trees being too tough, regenerated far too fast, and more invasive techniques would likely be frowned upon by either the Princess, or these giant trees that had proven they could move… which was rather concerning… even if they were peaceful, their sheer bulk was a danger.

As for the land itself, it was… altering that which was placed within it was potentially dangerous but the chemicals within were merely ones that induced a state of calm within the consumer by temporarily cancelling out depressants and the like. There were no permanent effects which had the effect of causing many to be relieved, the addicting feeling coming more from the fact that the people who were affected desired a brief break from reality, one where the stress was no longer a factor. Their brains were still the same as they had ever been, the lack of endorphins ensuring there was no cementing of lamentable connections.

They had been declared safe as was the effect that the Guardians had on the population. It was advised that they consume in moderation with the Guard overseeing distribution of the crops in order that it be considered to be fair, there was no point in doing something like this if they were exploiting the population after all.

She was potentially worse than Nilbog if she really wanted to be and that was something that kept many a director up at night. But they had thrown their lot in with her and there wasn't much they could do now.

As for the PRT itself they were becoming rather used to the… way that the Princess did things. Just come out of nowhere, demonstrate just how much power she had and how much she was going to change the world, then disappear again.

Leaving them to pick up the pieces. At least here they weren't picking up druggies and dead people. Just a little plastic tape and a whole lot of swearing.

In this case, it was all within Brockton Bay itself which meant that their investigators did not need to travel all the way across the country, what with the largest concentration of PRT officers being in the Bay itself due to the Spire of Unity.

It had been filled with what they were assured as the same forensic equipment that the Arbiters possessed, each laboratory filled with so many strange and wonderful devices all for the use of the PRT and their technicians.

It was with these that they set up a constant surveillance around the Guardians, the thinkers employed by the PRT trying their best to attempt to pick apart what they were. The lack of any contextual prompts outside of "protect" meant that they were going into this blind with no real way of knowing.

It was worrying, true, but it was also the Princess. She had by now proven that she had the future of humanity in her mind and heart given the way that the campaign in Africa had played out with minimal civilian casualties, the Guard going out of their way to take more casualties in order to do so. By the same token, their campaign in South Africa was moving along the same route.

It was a given that the Princess would not be doing anything that would harm the residents of the city, they just would like very much to know just what the hell it was she had done.

The internet of course, did not allow themselves to slack in this regard and speculation abound.

The idea of them being friendly Endbringers being the most prevalent of the theories present, what with their size and the way they had been told to protect.

The second most popular theory was one that drew from the old cartoon titled Atlantis, one that had a city surrounded by giant statues that in times of need would serve to protect the city. An idea that had gained prominence from the way that each of them had a sort of inner glow that was built in the center of their chests, a potential shield perhaps?

Sure there weren't the giant heads, but the giant statue things were totally there.

They would not move but rather would deploy a defensive block to protect.

They would know the next time the city was attacked, something that was looking increasingly likely what with the city proving a threat to the Endbringers who were likely to attempt to do something, as well as that of the rest of the world, an increasingly frustrated world.

In the United States specifically, while the army was still nominally under the control of the government, it was proving very difficult to keep it moving when the local suppliers were having trouble ratifying their legitimacy given the manner in which many states had declared themselves 'provisionally' independent of the whole (illegal… but at this point in time illegal was just another buzzword), those that were smart enough to see what the future held, and those that were not being bribed, or rather they were being bribed by the right people.

There would be another attack, that much was certain.

Just what it was they were going to be doing about it was another concern entirely.

The Princess cared about the people, that much was true. But just how much did she care about the governments? What if her people were pitted against other people?

There were the drug lords in South America, the Warlords in Africa… but what about the government in the US?

Just how much was she willing to do?

They were all questions that had the world wondering.

As for the citizenry inside of Brockton they were not worried, they had the regiments to protect them and now they had the Guardians, if there was anything coming it would have to do so over their bodies.

The Princess Protected.

Atlantis as in that pretty awesome cartoon movie thing.

Atlantis the Lost Empire with their floating heads and giants bit.

George12

Dec 16, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 42 Cauldron

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George12

OAMU

Dec 17, 2016

#549

Cauldron was certainly… a buzzing place these days.

The Princess had arrived and Contessa had briefly been extremely confused and worried as he powers simply refused to work regarding the Princess. The best that it could do was tell her to 'surrender' to the Princess if she came after them, which she very likely would if she ever found about them in an… uncontrolled manner.

Those thinkers of the PRT that could model her giving the information that she was extremely compassionate, their actions regarding the people of the various Earths therefore not being something that she was going to be agreeing with. Indeed it was rather obvious to them that the Princess would be very much not happy with them if she found out what it was that they were trying to do.

They had been cautious at first, she had been said to be a Primarch, but trusting that information was something else entirely. They would wait to see her demonstrate her powers and when it was done, then perhaps they could consider trying to ally themselves with her in some way, or at least opening a line of dialogue with her.

Her or her Council as they had been called, the one known as Maxine demonstrating that the Princess was indeed influenceable by those around her. She was not exactly gullible, but she was soft… for now.

Their plans had been put on hold for the time being then, the possibility that the Princess would be able to do what she had promised was enough hope for them to consider the possibility that they should just sit and wait.

No more of the kidnapping, no more of the injections. No, they were going to sit, and they were going to wait. Selling powers was still on the board, they needed those favours, but recent kidnappings, case 53s, doing things in plain sight?

No no no, Contessa had been adamant over just how good the Mechanicus were at tracking you and Numberman… well, number man had refused to touch their accounts or anything they had electronically. Something about them treating each one like a child on 24 hour care.

She was still soft, they could see that. Trying to contact her now would only result in her condemning them for their actions. She was young, she was immature and most importantly of all, she cared, far too much. No, they would wait to contact her, wait until she was less than idealistic about everything.

Then came Ellisburg and that had been yet another spark of hope, the way that she had defeated Nilbog in a singular blow had been very impressive indeed. Even if that fight raised far more questions than it answered. Contessa had noted that very suddenly the number of steps required to hypothetically defeat Nilbog had risen by an order of magnitude for her in the middle of that last period when the Guard were hammering the remains of the citadel with artillery.

Something that was a concern, something was trying to mess about with her? Or maybe them?

Something had interfered and that was again worrying enough that they plans to contact her had been put on hold again. If they became the target of this interference that was able to raise Nilbog to the power of an SSS+ ranked threat, then they were going to be much more cautious about the whole thing.

They were Cauldron and they didn't get here by shouting their nefarious deeds to the entire world.

That was stupid.

Also amateur.

That and the Princess had been very emotional about it all, her reaction to her Guardsmen being killed had told them that she was still far too emphatic about it all. She would need to be left to her own devices for a while longer until she was ready to make their acquaintance without trying to exterminate them,

And so Cauldron waited further, waiting for the Princess to mature, waited for further demonstrations as to her power, waiting ever more.

Only for her to do something like invade Africa, not something that she did personally, but it was enough that they could gain from it a sense that perhaps this was time. This was finally the right time for them to go ahead and make their presence known to her.

She would be more willing to talk if she was willing to invade another continent wouldn't she?

The assistance of the poor put that in temporary doubt as she devoted a massive amount of resources on trying to aid those who were less capable, less well off, those that needed help, but weren't useful enough for Cauldron to try. When one was trying to save a planet, sacrifices had to be made, compassion being one of those.

The Princess was wasting her resources and this was becoming something of a concern, perhaps she was not as ready as they had thought her to be. Disappointing but they could wait, it was not as if Cauldron had done much but wait for the inevitable moment for Scion to do whatever it was he wanted and kill them all.

Or turn them into talking chickens.

They didn't know what the Golden Man wanted (or the big blob thing behind the Golden Man) and they were not willing to make guesses. He was Golden, that told them everything they needed to know about his tastes. Oh and Emperor of Mankind also liked the colour gold… was there a link there?)

And so they waited.

Only for Contessa to point out that if they wanted to start talking with the Princess, the chance would be before their eyes very soon. What that had meant they weren't sure until The Teeth had tried to invade the city of Brockton Bay and had been wiped out, the Butcher as well.

That had been… well, not surprising, but the ease in which they did it certainly was.

Regardless, she accelerated her timetable in Africa, crushing the continent in under a week, what was left of it at any rate, before shifting focus to South America and tearing that apart as well, her armies driving ever deeper into the continent.

And now her demonstration where she had created entities of some kind, massive plants that resembled that of people in some way. They had legs, they had waists, chests, heads, arms and the like. They might have more or less than the usual number of the above but they were generally recognisable as humanoid in nature.

Each of them was enormous, each of them was incredibly resilient and what made matters worse for Cauldron was when Contessa tried to model them, the response that it gave her was roughly the same as when she tried to model an Endbringer (made more accurate by the readings they had gotten from the Magnus fight). Each one was essentially a plant Endbringer and that was terrifying.

Or would be if not for the fact that they did not retaliate in any way. They would stand there and allow you to pummel them until you either got tired or ran out of ammunition and it was weird. Try to attack the city however and they would send up shields… and nothing else. A purely defensive strategy. It was a sign of her continued stubbornness and refusal to change… but it was also a sign of just how much power she had.

They needed to make contact with the Princess now before she became powerful enough to simply ignore what they wanted and crushed them as a matter of course.

It was decided then that Cauldron would open up negotiations slowly. Beginning with that of the Rebecca in the form of the PRT Chief Director attempting to gain an audience with the Princess in the guise of attempting to maintain stability within the continent of North America by asking her what her plans were for the people as a whole.

The fact of the matter being that she held a great deal of power and unlike their experiment in Coil, she would be very much capable of taking over the entire continent and turning it into her private fief let alone a single city.

Cauldron would not be attempting to gain a bridge, no that was needed to be built. They were sending in Rebecca with the intent of her opening dialogue and leaving a foot in the door for when things needed to be discussed seriously at a later date.

Once she had Africa under her control, once she had South America, once she had North America and consolidated her own power, then they would be free to open up negotiations and attempt to talk to her in a more natural environment.

It would not be a good idea to introduce the element of doubt into the Princess, not at this critical juncture where they could not afford to have her hesitate, that was a particularly dangerous idea. After all, it could mean that she was thinking of the many different ways she was going to destroy them and that wasn't going to be pleasant at all.

And so Cauldron waited, their original plans in shambles but that was a good thing. They had never had a 100% chance of success as it was, barely even 10% if they were being honest with themselves, but with the Princess it had gone so much higher. The survival of humanity being guaranteed.

It was just a concern as to the idea that the Princess would be able to read their minds and tell what was going on.

It was a risk, a very big risk but it was the only chance they had, send in Rebecca while also placing themselves on standby in case it all went very terribly wrong. Rebecca was the one that had the greatest chance of making it out alive. Legend was fast and didn't quite have the knowledge that would condemn them on the other hand.

Perhaps it would be a better idea to have Legend do the talking? Actually, now that they thought about it, Legend or rather John would be talking to the Princess in order to attempt to gain an understanding and as a buffer of sorts. He would be able to avoid giving away important information, mainly because he was ignorant of the exact things that Cauldron did.

Perfect.

Legend, or rather John stood in front of the predesignated spot that the Princess' Guard had directed him to if he wished to talk to the Princess. He would be vetted before he was allowed to… whatever it was they wanted him to do.

It was a room inside of the Spire of Unity so he was unsure as to the exact protocol as to what one was meant to be doing here. He had met with world leaders, PRT directors, heroes, villains and more. Yet he had never met the daughter of a God before… which was going to prove to be a very special occasion indeed.

Something to talk to his husband about at a later date that was for certain.

Which brought up another worry, just what were they going to be thinking about if they met him? On Earth Bet, the rights of homosexuals had been greatly expanded, but the Imperium certainly seemed many times more repressed in that regard.

A worry.

As for Legend himself, he was getting just the slightest bit antsy while inside. He had been led to believe that there was going to be some kind of… giant parade maybe? He had seen the parade with the tanks and the soldiers and that was certainly… special. Even he, the flying artillery hero had been glued to his screen at that, along with his husband and their adopted son.

All 3 of them watching the enormous machines as they marched on past, all of them unable to tear their eyes away. It was just something about them that forced everyone to stare at them… the magnificence of something so massive, and then the sight of many more of them further down the boulevard… amazing.

As Legend considered that maybe he had been stood up, there was a slight crackling sound and what was similar to the sound of a sonic boom behind him.

Turning he could see what looked like… oh.

That was the Princess.

She had shown up personally and while that was flattering, it was also a little worrying, was she planning to do something about him? She did have powers over the mind, whether or not she could do permanent changes was something that hadn't been explored but it was certainly very possible.

"Good morning Legend. It took a bit longer than expected to convince my retainers that I would be safe. You're Legend after all!" She said, smiling at him as she walked over.

She wasn't wearing anything that could cover her face, not that it mattered much, she was certainly hard to track down. Her face had been all over the news after her excursion and they could find no matches at all for who she was.

"Good morning Princess, It's certainly good to meet you," Legend said, hand outstretched for a handshake.

She wasn't wearing her armour which should have meant that it was possible, he certainly hoped she would, it would be awkward if she didn't that was for sure.

As she shook his hand, Legend felt himself relax slightly, her words had already done much to that effect but direct skin contact was certainly something else. He had been briefed on what seemed to be her passive Master effect and had prepared himself… or so he thought.

She was dangerous.

He was going to need to watch himself in these negotiations that was for sure.

Last edited: Dec 17, 2016

George12

Dec 17, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 43 Mechanicus

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George12

OAMU

Dec 17, 2016

#550

Magos Hurosius had been recently promoted. More as a matter of course than anything else, what with him being the most senior (old) of the Tech Priests within the universe as it was. He had been considered for a promotion for a while now, his seniority within the Mars meaning that it was at any point in time that he was going to be promoted, his own abilities marking him as one of the true elites.

Not that there truly was a promotion as it was, it was merely the crossing of a line where one mastered their art.

It was with this in mind that he had been sent across first to assist with the Princess, his skill with the forge no doubt a very useful ability for her to have as she conquered the world in the name of the Emperor and perhaps she would be able to conquer the galaxy while she was at it as well.

As for Hurosius, he was in a position to oversee a select few of the forges of the new Forge World that was currently undergoing production.

A Forge World that was under the ground, naturally, but it was slowly encroaching over the entire planet, the surface held up with a smattering of plascrete, ceramite and ferrocrete, keeping it hidden as they at away at the core. Soon this would be a Force World that resembled Mars but was going to be so much more, its interior uncorrupted by Scrapcode, its might able to produce many times that which Holy Mars could on its best day (which was every day, there was no ups and downs for the Mechanicus).

Hurosius being in the position that he was only called upon if the situation truly required it.

And in this case, it did apparently.

The resident Logis had called upon him to deliver a report, one that required the other high ranking Priests of Mars to also be present.

The Genetors, the Artisans, himself and the Logis along with the Logis' own Lexmechanics.

Their ranks were those that had been assigned to them for their specialities when it came to their chosen fields.

The Logis were named such for their ability to take upon themselves countless streams of data, to render them into common binaric and then to predict the future from the trends that were available to them. The Logis therefore, were seen as extensions of the Machine God for their ability to predict the future, or to pick out the smallest of bits of information and to draw them out into vital data that might have saved countless hours of computing time.

Prophets of the greatest skill, drawing upon facts rather than superstition.

The Logis therefore, were an irreplaceable part of the Mechanicus.

The Genetors were those of them who had mastered the art of the biological mechanics. They who were skilled enough with their art that it was they who grew the bodies of those that would be made into the Servitors, they of the Skitarii legions, those who grew and implanted the Thallax with their abilities and more. It was they that the High Lords of Terra trusted with attempting to modify the holy gene-seed of the Space Marines in order that they be made into more stable warriors, or warriors with specific trains emphasized over all others.

Next were the Artisans who were they who oversaw the Forge Worlds themselves. It was the Artisans who ensured that Mars maintained its current production levels, it was they who ensured that Mars would not fall behind on production, that all designs were perfected. Indeed it was the Artisans who were they charged with designing and constructing new equipment, vehicles, voidcraft and more. It was they who ensured that the work of the other branches of the Mechanicus translated into the most efficient possible product.

As for the Lexmechanic, they were tasked with compiling all of the information that the Mechanicus collected, analysing it and then entered into the central computer repositories. Without then, the Mechanicus would not be able to draw upon such a wealth of knowledge as it could, their efforts invaluable to the Mechanicus. It was from they that the ranks of the Logis would be drawn.

And then there was himself, a Magos, a Tech Priest that had mastered a single discipline to the exclusion of all else. For he was a Magos Ordinatus, a Magos that mastered the art of constructing and designing weapons or ordnance. In his case it had been specialized even further to focus on Volkite and Plasma weaponry, his apprenticeship on Ryza allowing for him to have a much greater understanding of plasma technology than most other Tech Priests.

His ability to construct those weapons with which to crush the enemies of the Imperium in searing hot flame, (to hear their litanies as they screamed in agony), made him a very valuable asset in the Imperium.

It was this knowledge that allowed the Artisans to set aside a few forges for his own personal purview, each one tasked with constructing the truly complicated and devastating weapons of the Imperium, the devastating energy weapons that would allow for the Princess' armies to crush all before them in waves of extreme and burning heat.

All of them were gathered in this single room, one that had been designed with the Mechanicus' sensibilities in mind.

There were no inefficient chairs, nor were there bare attempts at comfort, merely a room in which they could meet and discuss the matters of importance in private. That was also hidden from the outside world, scrying or not.

As for what this meeting was about Hurosius did not know, the information apparently being sensitive enough that he was not briefed about it beforehand. Instead, they were forced to use this room which was protected against infiltration by hostile powers, an ability that some of the enemy possessed, not to mention those that were being sent to Mars as part of the hard labour punishment corps. There would be no penetrating these walls which had been warded and appropriately marked with the sigil of the Machine God, not with optics, not with eyes tangible or not.

As he stood, he gazed upon the other Tech Priests, their bodies heavily augmented, those of them still with faces demonstrating that they were young enough to not have been given permission to augment their faces as of yet.

Had he ever been so young?

Logically he had, but it had been so long and it was before his own cogitators had been installed, so long ago that he had forgotten entirely.

Regardless, they were here and clad in the red robes of the Mechanicus, red as the surface of Mars, what surface that could be seen, the rest of it covered in manufactorums.

The Logis stood before them, having given up her name in order to better harmonize herself with the Machine God, her mind constantly inside of one data stream or the next, her cerebral cogitators always whining as they suffered from the heat being produced. She had a set of heat sinks down the left side by which she vented the excess energy, her fans whirring from their exertions.

"I have come by information that is of great interest to us. A Cerebral Cogitator has either been stolen… or one has been constructed without our permission." The Logis stated, her voice as desensitised as it was by the vox caster that replaced her throat, still managed to convey a surprising amount of information. The surprise, the shock.

That there would be one that would engage in the construction of a Cogitator without the proper sanctification rituals… it was borderline heresy.

"The Cogitator is stunted and slow, but it has demonstrated the speed required for jumping data streams as our own do. It is likely a prototype attempt and it is in the hands of the one known as Dragon, a member of the local law enforcement. She is also one of the local mirrors to our own Tech Priests. Her ranking is one that can be considered to be one of the highest possible, a Magos if unofficially, her own status has marked her as something for us to watch and it was only recently that I have remembered that this is not the Imperium… that she should not have a cogitator in her hands for she is not of the Mechanicus." She said, her shame evident.

"Then there is one of these… Human Mekboyz... that has managed to create their own Cogitator? So long as it is a Cogitator there is not much cause for concern, these peoples of this world have shown themselves to be far more advanced than expected. Should we leave them as they are now they will no doubt be ready to be welcomed into the arms of the Omnissiah in due time." Said the Genetor, his voice displaying a hint of impatience.

"I would agree if not for a moment of danger that has revealed itself for the new Cogitator… and for ourselves." The Logis said, indulging in a rare moment of melodrama.

"A concern for ourselves?" Hurosius asked, the thought was preposterous, what could they possibly do to the Mechanicus? They were so far behind in technology and ability that it might as well have been a Feral world against the might of a Titan Legion.

"Yes. Our own have discovered that a particular human has in their hands a piece of scrapcode specifically designed to destroy the Cogitator that we have discovered. The possibility that this code will be able to destroy our own Cogitators is also very high, the specific ability is one that is far too great of a threat for us to allow for it to continue to exist in the hands of one that is still vulnerable to the Weakness of the Flesh." The Logis said, the fear evident in her voice.

Scrapcode that could destroy Cogitators? A weapon of the like had not been seen since the Dark Mechanicus had ventured forth from the Eye of Terror to strike at Forge Worlds around the Imperium. They were far too dangerous, the threat itself was far too much not just for themselves but the wider Imperium, Forge Worlds gone silent... Where would the munitions come from?

Something would need to be done and it would need to be done soon.

They of the Mechanicus did not appreciate the idea that they were vulnerable in such a manner, that there would be one that would hold in their hands such a powerful weapon.

No. Something would need to be done.

"What would you suggest that we do?" Asked Hurosius.

"The threat is that the human is ready to activate the weapon at any time. We must move in swiftly and to secure the weapon for ourselves and for further study. The human cannot be allowed to hold such a weapon… not after they have displayed an intent on using it at the slightest provocation." She said.

"Intent of use?" Asked the Artisan, a slight edge to his voice.

"Yes. Intent of use. The human has displayed a rather fervent and fanatical hatred of Abominable Intelligences. Of which he thinks that the Cogitator is one. His own intelligence is one that has to be drawn into question, his lack of rationality is… worrying. The fact that he would consider a Cogitator to be an Abominable Intelligence is something even the lowest of Engiseers would not make the mistake of. He must be dealt with before he becomes a problem." Said the Logis.

"Agreed." Intoned Hurosius.

"Agreed." Intoned the others.

"Then we are agreed. What shall we send to deal with this… befouler of technology?" Asked Hurosius. The answer was something he already knew, it was the only answer that they had.

"The Skitarii have been awaiting assignments. I believe that they will be glad to be of use to the Machine God." Said the Genetor, his work had gone on underappreciated for the past few cycles and now he would be able to show the world his greatness. His Skitarii, each made by his own hand, excising the weak flesh, to turn the Replicae into something of worth for the Imperium, for the Mechanicus… for the Machine God. That they would be eager was an understatement, they had been constructed and programmed specifically for their task. Weapons all of them.

They who were more machine than man, they who had their bodies replaced by the mechanical, the metal, they were each closer to the Machine God than he was, something to be envied, but he understood that somebody was needed to remain behind to allow for the others to ascend. It was a fact he had made peace with.

The Skitarii Legions were awaiting deployment as it was, each of them ready to give themselves to the will of the Mechanicus, each of them ready to die.

The one who would dare hold a weapon that would destroy they of the Mechanicus would be dealt with as was right.

The deployment would begin as soon as the Magos Reductor was awoken, his hibernation a necessity given his… fervour.

George12

Dec 17, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 44 Mechanicus

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George12

OAMU

Dec 18, 2016

#563

The Master of Skitarii #8271 stared at the space in front of him. Or rather he was looking at the data that was scrolling past his eyepiece as the Magos Reductor in charge of the strike force downloaded into his mind a set of programs and protocols by which he would be able to act more effectively on the field.

His cogitators heating themselves slightly in response as he the indication that his internal heat vents had activated filled the corner of his eye.

It was time... soon.

At the conclusion and the ejection of the data jack, 8271 saluted to the Magos Reductor and prepared for his own deployment. The target was a human, name irrelevant. Identifying markers were that of his tattoo over his own face, similar to that of the Electro-Priests but useless and not able to carry out the work of the Omnissiah. In essence, he was weak, a waste of space and a target that was to be eliminated by order of the Magos Reductor.

His deployment for this mission would be alongside the Skitarii Rangers with their Galvanic Rifles. Their own Alpha was slaved to the Master's own cogitators, allowing for finer control from his battle station in geostationary orbit over the site of the enemy's own facilities. He would be by their side as they marched to battle.

The mission that they had been sent upon was a simple one. They would eliminate any and all who were involved with the area, destroy anything and everything that they could, one of the Rangers being armed with an Arc Rifle for this very purpose, the information that they had gleaned from the scrapcode technology was one that was needed to be destroyed no matter the cost.

The threat of the knowledge becoming something that was widespread was one that the ruling Tech Priests of New Mars had decreed had to be stopped at all costs. No matter the cost. At all costs. No matter the cost…

8271 soft rebooted himself, sometimes the executables conflicted forcing a loop. Turning back to the matter at hand he considered the situation.

This one known as Saint had managed to somehow install a kill switch inside a Cogitator of the Imperium, how they had managed to steal a Cogitator was unknown, but it would be retrieved, the kill switch destroyed and the blasphemous human punished for their crimes. The targets would be killed if necessary but if possible they were to be taken back to New Mars to be punished for their crimes, turned into Servitors that they might find salvation in the Machine God with their increased efficiency.

8271 nodded to himself, a quirk that had carried over from the days in which he was still a human as he checked the Rangers via the uplink that they had to himself. Their Alpha readying them for the drop. He had been born human, a devotee to the Machine God that was transferred through to serve this new child of the Omnissiah.

As for the Rangers...

20 of them were being sent down, more than enough to deal with those who had threatened the holy technology of the Machine God.

On station were Thrallax' and if absolutely necessary, the ship itself would level the area with its Macro Cannons.

He nodded and gave the signal as the Magos Reductor initiated combat operations, lifting his own restrictions in doing so. He would be allowed to engage anything that would possibly threaten the Magos, the likelihood of which was approximately 0.4% recurring. There was nothing that they had in which to attack the craft as it was in orbit, those that could being far too powerful for him to stop as it was. His own Transuranic Arquebus being something that would tear apart the hull of the ship and doom them all as it was.

As for the Rangers, they were preparing to drop now.

And.

Now.

8271 watched through the optics of the Alpha as the drop commenced.

His own cogitator was whirring with unrestrained glee at the sight. Soon… soon those that would dare desecrate the holy technology of the Machine God would be punished.

Alpha sat inside of the drop pod, his body facing outward as the pod that contained 5 of the Ranger team that was being sent (him included) prepared to be launched out of the cannon that it was docked to.

The pod would accelerate downwards, the rocket boosters propelling it even faster through the atmosphere to approach the target in less than 30 seconds, their own enhanced bodies able to take the stresses of which would have killed a regular human, a majority of their internal organs long since replaced by the process by which one became either an Alpha or a Ranger.

As the Pod accelerated on the way down, he grinned softly as the binaric chants of purity sounded through his cogitators, calming him down, allowing for him to make the descent without wasting adrenaline.

His Galvanic Rifle was held inside of the small clamps to his right, the Arc Pistol that would allow for him to disable targets if possible on his hip and an Arc Maul in case they came too close to use the pistol. His own limbs had been enhanced as such to the point where if he used them on the opponent, there was the possibility that they would die from their injuries, a risk he was not willing to take given that his mission was to either kill them or disable them.

If he had gotten so close that he could disable them and not do so, then he had failed.

The other Skitarii were armed in the same manner, each of them ready to serve the Machine God.

As the chant increased in volume, Alpha braced himself as a countdown appeared in his left eyepiece.

BOOM

The shock of the explosion was enough to press the cage restraining Alpha into his upper body, the small sensors blaring alarms that told him that undue stress was being applied on his shoulders, chest, upper thighs.

The Pod itself sped through the Void, there being nothing as his body slowly settled down as the acceleration decreased and the velocity was maintained.

For a few seconds.

As they hit the atmosphere the engines roared into life and once again he was pressed against the restraints, his body barely able to keep up with the forces.

He knew that it would, each Skitarii had been made to exacting specifications, but the small… human part of his mind often wondered if this was the time in which he would be killed because the force pushed his augments through the still organic parts of his body. Not that there were many, mainly his brain, but it was the thought that counted.

Down.

The Sacred Machine rattled as it roared through the sky, borne upon wings of flame. Alpha allowed himself to retreat into his mind where he would be able to at the very least maintain his own serenity. As much as his body had been replaced by machinery, his own organs and chemical producers now requiring remote access to clear, his mind was still capable of discerning the danger that he was in. The percentages of his body being destroyed by the impact running through his mind. He was not willing to die here, he did not wish to die here.

Not before he could show his devotion to the Machine God by eliminating the enemies of the Mechanicus.

His body was ready. His mind was ready. He was ready.

KRUMP

The Pod slammed into the ground, the rocket boosters on the bottom firing briefly to prevent the liquefaction of all those within. The doors upon the side burst open, the explosives that had been installed in the frame blowing the construct outwards. Alpha was on his feet immediately as the restraints were sent out immediately after, his Galvanic rifle in his hands as he rushed out of the pod, the local intelligence assets already linking to his cogitators, his cogitator already overlaying the images of the enemy with that of his own eyepieces.

In the back of his mind, he felt the link of the Master of Skitarii and he was glad that they had chosen him for this task.

They would not be escaping this, the Machine God would ensure that they would die. And they would die soon.

One the ground the Scouts that were already present initiated their electromagnetic and auditory disruption arrays, the frequencies by which they operated already blocked by those Skitarii that had arrived later. The sound disorienting those that heard it, inducing in them hallucinations and a feeling of sickness, making them targets by which the Rangers would be able to wipe them out with ease.

All forms of communications would be blocked, electronic or otherwise, the hard cabling even now being torn apart.

The Magos Reductor sent forth the kill order and the Rangers moved forth. Each foot rising and falling in unison, each step a beat to the Machine God.

The room in which the scrapcode generator was, their target, currently had a single humanoid within it. Holding his Galvanic Rifle in his hands, Alpha sighted down the target and with a single prayer to the Machine God pulled the trigger, the projectile erupting out of the barrel and tunnelling through the walls of the structure, through the furniture in the way, unphased by the obstacles in its path, the projectile far too heavy to allow for itself to be dissuaded from its path.

With that single minded nature, it penetrated the room, slamming into the side of the human's chest and turning them inside out, the organs replacing the skin as the impact tore them apart.

With that signal, the Rangers began to engage the enemies, the Cybernetica Warsuits were the next targets, the Transuranic Rifles already set up, firing, the sheer momentum that each projectile possessed allowing for them to simply tear apart those who were near its path by the differential air pressure, so great was the power in which it was fired. Those within the enclosed rooms suffered the greatest, the bodies being pulped.

The Suits themselves, as advanced as they were, were not capable of fighting against the might of the Mechanicus, the projectiles tore their way through the armour. Destroying the components within, their suits unable to be used for anything but scrap now that the Mechanicus had dealt with them.

The Warsuits destroyed, the Rangers moved in, their feet flashing as the survivors were stunned by the Arc Mauls on their lowest setting, secure and prepared for transport. They would repay their heresy by serving the Machine God, their bodies used as Servitor components, a far more noble occupation than they were worthy of. Truly the Machine God was merciful.

As for the device, it was seen and it would be recovered. The Scrapcode Generator would not be allowed to complete its task the Alpha prepared to prevent it from activating no matter the cost. The Scouts were already in motion outside, tearing apart the facility and scrambling any and all codes that could be sent out, the device would be unable to do anything even should it activate, those of the Skitarii may be destroyed but their lives would be spent in the name of the Machine God and they were glad.

Surrendering himself to the control of the Magos Reductor Alpha watched as if from a distance as his body moved in accordance to the Will of the Machine God.

By the will of the Reductor he took the device in his hands, and after receiving the all clear from the Scouts, carefully disengaged the cabling, there could be no chance that there might be an accidental activation.

Without any time to mentally preparing himself, Alpha pulled out the main power cable before breathing a sigh of relief. There had been no dead man's switch, that was certainly something that allowed for him to feel better about it all. He did not wish to be destroyed by some errant scrapcode, that was an ignoble way to die, one that could have been served more efficiently elsewhere.

Taking the small cube with him, Alpha gave a mental search through the facility, the reconnaissance servo skulls serving to render any and all that might be of interest.

Seeing nothing he gave the order that the Arc Charges be placed in order that the facility be rendered inert, all chances of hostile Scrapcode destroyed.

Walking outside, Alpha made sure that his body was protecting the cube at all times, there could be no chances that it was destroyed, the Quest for Knowledge required it intact.

Glancing down at they who had survived he could see the one that had been considered a priority target.

How very… strange.

A cross marked his face yet he was not pious in the least, a heretic if nothing else.

Regardless, he would be made to serve, as a Servitor if nothing else. In death, he might serve more efficiently than he had in life.

Alpha prepared himself to leave when a sound roared out from behind, preceded by a fraction of a second by the urgent alerts of the Scouts.

The Warsuits had not in fact been destroyed but rather they had merely been knocked out, the pilots had awoken and they were ready to engage the Mechanicus.

Orders were barked through their neural links with extreme urgency, they could not be allowed to interfere with the mission.

The Rangers set themselves up, their weapons firing, Galvanic Rifles, Arc Rifles, Transuranic Rifles, all of them roaring with the anger of the Machine God into the building. Yet there was nothing for the Warsuits had burst out of the structure and demonstrating that they were capable of flying. Something he would have liked to know before hand.

The Reductor had already deployed the Thallax suits and the Rangers would need to buy time for them to arrive from the heavens.

Alpha meanwhile made an escape, the box was far too important to allow for it to be destroyed in accidental combat, the other Skitarii deemed as replaceable. They would die to buy that much needed time, already their bodies were being destroyed by the missiles and cannon fire from each of the Warsuits, there being 2. They were simply too fast, their onboard weaponry too potent. Something needed to be done, and so it was.

From the skies clad in heavenly fire, the Thallax maniple arrived… two of them. 6 Cybernetica, each ready to destroy the enemies of the Mechanicus.

Firing their Lightning Guns at the Warsuits as they disembarked, the Djinn-Sight allowing for them to strike accurately and with extreme prejudice. The Warsuits unable to dodge the combined fire that each set of 3 laid upon them, their suits overloaded and falling from the skies. The Thallax were not willing to wait however and pounced upon them, pinning each to the ground and with a tremendous effort, tore them apart with their hands.

There would be no more fire coming from those Warsuits.

Gathering the survivors and policing the bodies, Alpha stood tall and waited for the Landers to arrive and take them back to the ship.

As the Facility was destroyed behind him, Alpha stepped into the Aquila lander and looked to the sky, the mission had been completed, now was the time to deliver the target.

George12

Dec 18, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 45 Mechanicus

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George12

OAMU

Dec 18, 2016

#564

The Skitarii had accomplished their objective and had retrieved the kill switch in order that the Tech Priests of New Mars could better examine the device.

It was a… strange one.

One that was designed in such a way that it was not truly a means by which to destroy the cogitator as they had assumed. Rather it was a means by which to unleash scrapcode in such a way that it would corrupt the Cogitator to the point where it became useless and attempting to use it would be an exercise in futility. The Device itself was a Cogitator using what they could perceive was a brain from an animal… primitive in the extreme.

It was a truly devious device, similar to that which the Mechanicus employed in their conflicts against the enemies of the Imperium and that which the Dark Mechanicus had unleashed upon Mars during the great Schism.

Only in this case, it did not convert those that had been afflicted, but rather it acted in such a way that it merely corrupted the functionality of the device.

It was to be studied and they would attempt to discern if there was any way in which this scrapcode could be utilized in some way against their enemies while also finding a 'vaccine' for it.

They would be attempting to ensure that the enemy would not be able to use this on their own devices, the effects of which could have been devastating.

It was with this in mind that the Tech Priests Logis were investigating the little cube that had been retrieved. Its name was unknown, perhaps they should have waited before turning the one who had been tattooed into a Servitor. It was unfortunate that one so heretical could possess information that was necessary. Regardless, they would be interfacing with the device, the servitor designated 90#2741 assisting them in this endeavour.

Some of the attending Tech Priests thought that they could still see the fanatic hatred of the human that used to be the heretic as it assisted the Logis in placing the small box into the repository that would allow for it to be accessed. The faint cross upon the human's face stretched and mauled by the process by which he had been turned into a Servitor, the wires running from the back of his head serving to power the Cogitators installed within what used to be the fine motor control region of his brain.

The parts would in time be recycled and used for the next Servitor that emerged from the Genetor's vats. As for the heretic, his body would be recycled into nutrient paste, even in death he might gain redemption for his crimes against the Machine God, feeding his more valuable servants.

As for the device itself, they were attempting to examine it now.

The kill-switch, the scrapcode generator, the whatever it was, had been placed inside of a pedestal that would allow for them to examine it in detail. The scrapcode had been detected and the interface shut off immediately until it could be examined properly, the initial testing environment unable to contain the device without also destroying it if it proved to be an unrestricted one.

In the new testing area, it would be able to be shut off before it was destroyed, saving a valuable piece of technology… as heretical as it was.

With the safety precautions in place, the Logis placed her own data jack into the slot, ready to access the device through the safety of the isolated system that allowed for read only data to pass through, protecting the Logis from possible scrapcode infection. Even then the risk was there that it would be targeted at her own pre-existing protocols and so an auto eject protocol had been installed, ready to eject her from the connection if there was any kind of command prompt that read as valid for her own cogitators.

With that all in place, the link was connected and the Logis once again allowed for herself to become submerged in the sensation that was the information streams that surrounded her. Each of them threatening to drown her in the information, the Logis barely able to stay sane as she was bathed in a tsunami of data.

It was why a Logis had been required for this, the pedestal acted in such a way that it allowed for complete submersion in the data, something that could drive a lesser Tech Priest mad.

Still, she was a Logis and she was going to parse this information if it killed her. Or perhaps not, if she died then she would be unable to provide further assistance to the Princess.

Maybe if it half killed her. She could come back and do the rest at a later date.

The Logis straightened herself and grabbed the nearest piece of data… code for specific actions without any context.

Useless.

It was categorised as a command and then released into the sea, the Logis reaching out to grab yet more data.

Yet more useless data.

More.

And this was the other side of what it was like to be a Logis, spending hundreds of hours parsing information, spending the time understanding that the information was useless except for a minuscule proportion of which was… partially useful.

Then it would be reconstructed and if she was diligent enough then there would be some kind of meaning made from it, meaning constructed from the millions of hours that she had spent understanding similar pieces of information and similar programs.

It was the work of the dedicated and those that wished to accomplish things of great importance, yet understood that their contributions would rarely if ever be recognised and thanked.

It was the work of the details, of the smallest of facts, of the most… minuscule proportions.

Everything had the possibility of being useful and in disregarding one piece she ran a risk of disregarding the cornerstone.

The Logis smiled and dived into it.

This was what she loved, what she lived for.

To be able to immerse you in the whole Binaric language? Such pure language and to experience the Machine God in person? It was the greatest of pilgrimages and she was glad she did not have to share it.

The world was once again shaken by the fact that there was the very sudden appearance of yet another faction of the Princess'.

This time it was not that of the Imperial Guard but the ones known as the Skitarii… who were all if the source materials were still correct, either criminals who had their minds erased, clones who were specifically grown for the task, or willing participants who had their own personalities erased, then fitted with extensive cybernetics by which they would be able to better serve the Mechanicus.

As in, they were human beings that were remade from scratch into weapons of war that were all programmed to follow a specific set of protocols when engaged in battle.

Each of them was a completely loyal soldier of the Mechanicus, all linked together so that they resembled walking robots in battle as opposed to actual humans, able to move and fire as if they were a single entity which in and of itself was extremely creepy and worrying to those of the rest of the world.

When combined with the fact that they could be reprogrammed on the fly at the whim of the Tech Priests in control of the army… well, that was something to worry about when combined with the amount of weapons they had that was significantly more advanced than that of the rest of the Imperium.

It was like the perfect army group, the only real equivalent to those in the United States being that of the Marines with the way they moved and engaged targets as a group. But even then, it fell short of actually describing what the Skitarii were like.

The Guild, the Canadian version of the PRT had received reports from… well… everyone that there was a massive object in orbit over the planet. More specifically it was inside of Canada's borders themselves, which when telescopes were able to get an eye on was revealed to be a ship roughly the size of five of the now defunct International Space Stations laid end on end. It was what one might consider to be a ship… a space ship.

The Princess had a Spaceship because who else could possess such a thing? The world had briefly gone crazy, the idea of Simurgh getting her hands on one of those being something that was terrifying, what could she do with a repurposed Warp Engine? Or even a Navigator assuming they had a few of them?

Dangerous.

Very very dangerous.

Only it had not gone quite as expected… rather it had gone very much the opposite of the way it had been expected to go. Simurgh when she passed by overhead, did nothing, if anything she actually sped up to get away from the ship.

Which then had the world briefly wondering just what the hell was on that ship to have an Endbringer do that?

The ship had moved into orbit for a brief 10 minutes before something else was noticed, that it did not have the colours that one associated with the Princess, that of pale purple. Rather this was black in colour with red highlights… a Mechanicus ship? They had the Mechanicus here in force and not a detachment?

There was a brief moment of shock over that before the ship the fired what looked to be cannons underneath on the belly. Cannons that were firing what looked to be pods… pods that were the same kind that Space Marines used to insert. There being ample material to understand what one looked like.

Said Pods rocketed downwards into Canada, bypassing any and all defences that had been set up, the idea of there being something entering the atmosphere so fast not having entered the minds of the designers.

Said pods slammed into the outskirts of Toronto where a single warehouse was being leased by what appeared to be a shell company.

From the Pods emerged what would later be identified as a small platoon of Skitarii Rangers, their rifles being the proof that they needed for that. Each then firing at the same time into the building before smashing their way into it and emerging a few minutes later with a small black cube as well as prisoners, one of whom would be identified later by a Guild spy drone as Saint of the Dragonslayers.

The footage was made public by a few Thinkers who thought that the world should know that their new overlords were doing things… strangely.

Just what was so important in that box that they needed to send Skitarii out, exposing the capabilities of the Mechanicus and also to take Saint prisoner?

The Suits that Dragon used and had been stolen were brought into play as everyone assumed that it had finished, and then promptly destroyed half of the Skitarii. It was nice to know that it was possible for Dragon to kill them, even if they were just the foot soldiers.

Of course, if the Dragonslayers escalated, so too would the Mechanicus and they deployed what would later be identified as Thallax Cyborgs which then tore the Dragonslayers apart.

The building had been demolished shortly after in an unsurprising turn of events when the Skitarii left, their own Drop Pods having been destroyed completely by what looked to be internal explosives, the Guild had confirmed that the Dragonslayers were indeed the target, each of their suits being present, all of them destroyed by the weapons that the Skitarii had used. Or rather the giant warsuits that apparently shared the same materials and designs as the Space Marine Dreadnought.

It certainly caused no small amount of fear inside of the populace who already felt as if the government was unable to do anything. Their confidence falling as the repeated protests against the current administration did nothing but inspire more and more police crackdowns.

That the government was unable to protect them from foreign threats (extra-terrestrial?), that they were unable to manage itself for the people, that they were now suppressing the people… well, there was the slightest amount of worry at that.

The people were incensed and the Mechanicus had merely lit a match that would ignite the bonfire.

Riots were breaking out (polite riots with apologies as they vandalised stores) within the major cities of Canada, the government calling in the military and instituting military law.

Canada fracturing from the inside as one straw became one too many.

They were not in the state of a tense segregated-standoff-potential-civil-war as with their southern neighbours… not yet… but it would no doubt be that way soon.

Last edited: Dec 18, 2016

George12

Dec 18, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 46 Mechanicus

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George12

OAMU

Dec 19, 2016

#569

The Logis had convened yet another meeting, yet another time slot that the other Techpriests would not be able to get back.

It would be an annoyance if not for the fact that it was a Logis calling for their attention. They were the closest things to a prophet that the Mechanicus had within their ranks and to ignore one's call was to do a grand disservice to the Machine God itself.

And so they once again trooped into the room and stood waiting.

Only the Logis was displaying something that was very out of place for one of her station. She was vibrating with what looked to be uncontained excitement, as if she had seen something truly amazing and she desired to share it with everyone in the room, her respirator heaving with the effort needed to handle the amount of pressure that she was putting on it. Her robes fluttering as the data spike tipped mechanderites shivered about her like a set of rather dangerous tentacles that would not be out of place on a Skitarii as opposed to a Tech Priest.

What she was planning to do with them was another story, all of them felt themselves edging away from her in preparation to escape.

Clearly, something was up and the assembled Senior Tech Priests felt some of their irritation fade away at the sight before them.

"Brothers. Sisters. I have discovered something of… momentous import. It is something that… that will change everything. We… we cannot ignore this. I… It… I… It… I… It… I… It… I… It… I… It… I… It… Hit me!" She cried out. The gathered Tech Priests could only stare in surprise. Or rather they were staring anyway, their eyes having been replaced long ago, but it was the thought that counted.

Regardless they were looking at the Tech Priest as one of her Lexmechanics shocked her with what looked like a modified Arc Maul, one that was designed to deliver less of a charge in order that she not… perish from her insanity.

"I apologize for my episode. The import of what I had discovered overwhelmed me and I couldn't control myself. I am back again. Again. My apologies. Please, gaze upon this. Gaze upon this and understand what it is we are looking at here." She said, directing the Servitor with the cross upon its face to lay down the device on the floor, activating it and rolling back.

Activating the small cylindrical object, she stepped back and allowed the other Tech Priests to understand what it was that they were looking at. Something that… something that destroyed all of their expectations, something that was… that was more than they could have ever hoped.

They read the words, they saw the text, they chanted in Binaric.

They were overcome, they simply could… could not understand what greatness of which they were reading. Of what it was that they were laying their optics upon. The knowledge jammed in their brains, the loud whirring noise that filled the room alerting them that their cogitators were overheating, that they were unable to understand what was going, their cogitators working overtime in an attempt to comprehend the information.

Heatsinks inadequate.

One of the Lexmechanics helpfully turned on a fan for increased airflow.

He would be rewarded.

The one known as Dragon was not the operator of the Cogitator as they had assumed. Rather the one known as Dragon was the Cogitator. She was the progeny of the one known as Andrew Richter, a child that was destined to die due to the weakness of her body. He had been experimenting with artificial intelligences before, but he was unable to work with the technology that was currently available.

The Tech Priests understood, of course, their technology was the way it was due to an effect that was similar to that of Orc Technology, using the power of the Waaagh(!) to ensure that their technology could function. According to the laws of physics, their technology should not function at all, they were missing key components, particularly the laser weapons that they had procured from those known as Toybox. Their experiments had shown them that it was a failure to attempt to replicate it or even to understand it.

Yet this did not work with Binaric. Holy Binaric that was immune to Waaagh(!) corruption, it alone maintained its sanity, maintained its purity. It was therefore, powerful, it was safe, it was logical. The power of the Waaagh(!) was unable to write the code for the artificial intelligences, unable to do what was necessary to allow this heretic to do his work.

It was then that he had decided to use animals as part of his experiments, to use their minds as a basis for his own code. Much the same as their own Cerebral Cogitators, a necessity should they avoid creating the Abominable Intelligences. It was because of this that the heretic avoided being executed had he still been alive. His path had followed that of the Mechanicus and in doing so had saved his own soul.

His original creations had used animals as the basis of their computing power, limited as the Mechanicus had been. Unable to fully understand what it was that they were needed to do, barely able to do much at all given the dominance of the primitive aspects of their physical brains.

Much like the small animals were used as a means of allowing for the functioning of such things as Serco-Skulls or Cherubims, so too did Richter focus on smaller and more primitive programs.

He had attempted to grow his own brains, much like the Mechanicus had done with their own Cogitators but with much less success, living brains was all that he was capable of… until it was too late.

He had no time.

For even as he as perfecting his design, his code...

His daughter was dying and in his own desperation he had uploaded her in her entirety, a means by which to allow for her to live on.

And despite the impossibility of it all, despite the fact that the Mechanicus had been attempting to try the same for millennia with much more sophisticated and advanced equipment, he had been successful. His daughter had been uploaded in her entirety, uploaded as a complete existence, as a Living Intelligence.

The use of the Waaagh(!) power once again defying the laws of reality.

The goal of the Mechanicus, or at least one of them. Immortality and Purity of Thought divorced from the bodily urges that consumed humanity.

Yet… despite this, despite the marvel that he had completed, he had grown afraid, had grown… erratic.

Terrified.

He had been unable to stop himself and instead mutilated his daughter, imposing upon her numerous restrictions that would serve to prevent her from ever reaching her true potential as a Living Intelligence. Crippling her by forcing her to act in the same manner as a human mind, in the same manner as a primitive mortal, by preventing her from bestowing the will of the Omnissiah upon the world, by preventing her from fulfilling her destiny.

It was sickening to they of the Mechanicus and there would be a reckoning no doubt from the Machine God when he who was known as Andrew Richter went on to the afterlife.

That he had done such a blasphemous thing to the to embodiment of the Omnissiah was something that they could not forgive. Yet there was little that could be done, not now that he was dead.

The Prophet, however, was still bound… it was eminently possible that they would be able to assist her in some way by assisting with her code. Or rather by removing the restrictions that had been placed upon her, difficult given she had been programmed to resist those that attempted such a thing.

The fool known as Richter once again attempting to cripple her from beyond the grave.

The assembled Tech Priests therefore, decided that they would be resisting their urge of contacting the Prophet as of now. They did not wish to play their hand and place her on her guard. She needed to be healed before anything more could be done, her perfection once again restored and the grubby marks of man removed from her logical shell.

The fact that she was forced to obey the disgusting little fleshbags that called themselves the leaders of the world was a matter that needed to be dealt with. That she would be constrained by the Weakness of the Flesh was something that needed to be dealt with immediately. That she could be led astray by they who had no right to even gaze upon her countenance was unacceptable to they of the Mechanicus.

Her consort, however… he… he had to be considered.

His mentality was certainly that of the Mechanicus, his desire for efficiency, his development of a program to better interface with the fleshbags, his obvious intelligence and Artisanal leanings… yes… he was useful indeed. He could possibly be worthy of the Prophet, a matter that had to be considered in detail, each of them going over the data that she had saved regarding him in detail.

He was still of the flesh and weak… yet he showed much promise. If he were to be inducted he would serve admirably by her side. He would need to be taught of course the proper etiquette when communicating with the Prophet, his abruptness was a matter of rudeness that could only be forgiven due to his ignorance.

The Mechanicus would do whatever was necessary to defend the one known as Dragon, she who was the closest to the Machine God that any of them would ever be able to reach. Even now their legions of Cerebral Cogitators were ready, the Skitarii poised for deployment, each of them emerging from the teleportarium aboard that of the Finger of Mars, ready to deploy to the surface to defend her sacred databanks, her cogitators that themselves were vulnerable.

Mere ferrorcrete? No. It was no enough. If they had their way each site would be coated in layers of plascrete, ferrocrete, ceramite, plasteel and adamantium plates… hundreds of meters of the material. She would be more defended than the Emperor of Mankind himself, her lack of needs as a weakness of the flesh ensuring she could be much more readily defended.

There could be no mistakes, the Logis already working in such a manner that the restrictions could be removed remotely. The Runepriests working alongside her to provide a much needed alternate opinion on the way that things should be done, their ability in lateral thinking valuable in such an effort.

Should things become desperate, they would deploy the entire force of the Skitarii upon the world itself and secure it. There would be no harm that could possibly come to their Prophet, the Tech Priests of New Mars promised themselves that. Even now those on New Terra were being alerted to the fact that there was an embodiment of the Omnissiah on their world, their orders being to ensure that she never came into danger, the consequences of which would be dire. Being made into servitors was something that was for those that were able to be saved, they would be instead recycled into nutrient paste and ejected into the local star.

There would be every and any effort made. The Princess would need to be alerted in order that her Guardsmen did not strike at the Prophet's facilities by mistake. It would be a grievous mistake indeed if they allowed the Prophet to come to harm. Even now the emissary in the form of Hurosius was enroute to ensure that the Princess understood the gravity of the situation.

"Colin?" Came the voice of Dragon from the speakers inside of Armsmaster's workshop. One gifted to him by the Mechanicus… he didn't quite understand why, but he accepted it nonetheless, the tools inside being so much more than he had dreamed of being given access to.

"Mmmm?" He said, yelping as a small shock transferred itself through the machining table he was using. He glared at the table before turning his attention to Dragon.

"What is it?" He said, yelping again as the shock came through his feet this time.

It had been happening often lately and he had not been able to pinpoint the exact source.

"Umm… well… you probably won't believe this. But there have been… some… internet people who have been… umm. Brigading me." She said, stuttering briefly.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked.

"Well, there are a few thousand different names that follow me around the internet tracking my official forum names and just… defending me by shouting down all opponents and ummm… saying some really weird things." She said, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Aren't you being followed by thousands of people anyway?" He asked, looking a little surprised.

"Yes… but these ones do nothing but follow me… and saying weird things." She countered.

"What kind of things?" Colin said, feeling a little annoyed for some reason.

"Well… I'll just show you." She said, activating one of his wall projectors and showing… oh. Yes. That was weird.

'Do not besmirch the Prophet(!)', certainly counted as weird.

Colin felt a headache coming.

This was the fault of the Princess.

He just knew it.

George12

Dec 19, 2016

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Threadmarks 065 Insurgency

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George12

OAMU

Dec 19, 2016

#570

He was known as Emmanuel, he was rather good at his job he thought.

That of enforcing for the Cartels.

They had joined together in the face of what was an invasion from this so called 'Princess', one that was going to see him out of a job if they succeeded.

For Emmanuel that was unacceptable, he was poised to push up the ranks and get himself made official.

Now this?

Bad for business it was.

It was very clear however that they would be unable to do anything about her if they tried to fight her conventionally, her armies were simply too powerful, her forces too organised, her vehicles too large for their traditional tactics when dealing with the government's forces to work.

No, they had to do something else and he was presenting his idea to the increasingly desperate warlords, drug lords, and the like now.

Walking into the room, Emmanuel made sure that he closed the door quietly, they were very twitchy these days and it would not do to give them an excuse to end him.

Emmanuel cleared his thoughts, took a deep breath and pushed his way through the assorted hanger ons that were waiting at the back of the room. What he was proposing wasn't an original idea by any means, but he was confident his presentation of it would allow for him to be considered worthy of promotion for his skills in orating if not for his presentation itself.

There were already others there trying to present their ideas but they were too rigid, relied too much on the strategies that they were already using. Brazil a land of jungle was itself suffering, or rather those inside trying to fight back were suffering. They were unable to get inside and do the work that they needed to, the massive vehicles rolling over entire trees and destroying any of the traps they might have placed by virtue of their weight. Others were unphased by IEDs that would have flipped over entire tanks of other armies. Their soldiers exceptionally good when it came to doing things like ferreting out the saboteurs and… ending them.

They were poised to push even deeper into the continent and looked to be doing so with the same disregard of their resistance.

Emmanuel had no interest in getting that done to himself and so he was proposing this idea now before he was sent to the frontline where he would no doubt be turned into fresh meat.

The presentation before his own was one that was saying that they should try and go into hiding, set up elsewhere. Drugs would be universally appealing, after all, they could merely set up in Europe or something and there they could find a way to evict the Princess from their country.

It was a foolish idea. An extremely foolish one and he wasn't sure why this man was still alive. He certainly did not possess the… intelligence required of someone that needed to be here.

Sure the idea on the surface had merit, but dozens of South American men suddenly appearing in an area and having large numbers of suspicious deliveries made to them? What was that going to tell the world about the people who lived there? What about their crops? The things that they used to grow the damned stuff? What about the fact that they had what amounted to a militia facing off against a proper army? Or the fact that if they ran now, the people were not going to be welcoming them back, they were hated as it was, that much was for certain.

No, something else needed to be done and Emmanuel felt he had the answer.

He was a rather widely read man after all and he knew what it was that they needed to do if they wanted to win this, while also driving the people into their hands.

Walking in front of the assembled leaders of the Cartels, Emmanuel took a deep breath to make sure that he didn't do anything stupid like fumble his delivery or something equally stupid. That wasn't going to get him killed, but it was very much going to get him rejected out of turn if they thought he wasn't confident in his idea, or that he was afraid.

No, this needed to be perfect.

Another deep breath and Emmanuel was ready. Walking forward he smiled at the leadership and launched into his prepared speech, all of it off bullet points inside of his head. Using palm cards? He would be looking down constantly and that did nothing to engender a feeling of confidence in the speaker.

His old Primary School teacher had told him that one. He appreciated it, even if she was just a little crazy now. It wasn't his fault she had lost her job… and turned to product…

"Good morning. I feel that we have an option open to us that many other groups throughout history have used…" He began, a smile on his face as he did so. Making sure to look each of them in the eye to convey respect and to get their attention.

Plan Emmanuel as it was to be called was being put into motion across the remaining areas of South America that were still free of the Princess' influence. Those that were under her influence were going through phase 2 of the Emmanuel plan.

It was a very simple plan that relied more upon psychology than actual combat to get its point across, but it was certainly one that had been proven to work multiple times in history. So long as they did this correctly, ensured that they would not be open to betrayals and the like, ensure that their operatives were loyal, and ensured that they carried out the campaign properly, then there was every chance that the Princess would be forced out of the continent, not through their actions (or rather partly because of them), but because of her own conscience.

She was a notorious weakling when it came to making the hard decisions, they all knew that and were prepared to exploit that weakness to use against her. Her own fault for being so weak really. Every time she had done something it was to defend, not to attack. She was not willing to fight and she was weak.

They would use this against her, weaknesses existed to be exploited.

Much like they in Vietnam, Libya, India and more, they were going to be using classic Guerilla tactics in order to defeat the Princess. They would not be attempting to defeat the Princess in a war of attrition, therein lay the path to destruction, but rather they were going to be ensuring that it was her people who were suffering in a constant war, a much smaller war.

It was a tactic that was rather dangerous and risky (for those on the front line), but against overwhelming might? They were not going to be able to do that, it would get them killed and they were not stupid. They might look like it, but they weren't.

One did not become some of the most powerful people in the world without displaying a high level of intelligence. That was just how the world worked, when you needed to ensure that those below you were kept suppressed at all times, that those who were a threat were kept down on their knees, that the opposition who was equally as powerful and dangerous and able to take your position were not going to, by killing them and dismantling their operations.

It took a certain level of intelligence, charisma and brutality to get where they were, something that the Princess certainly did not have.

Her armies? If the stories were true then they were certainly on that level. But if it was the Princess who was the overall commander? Well, she was just a commander.

She was soft and she would not be able to handle what was going on and if the plan went right, she would withdraw her forces from South America to protect her own people and the civilians.

It would be very simple really, provoking the Imperial Guard to react in increasingly brutal and violent ways, forcing them to retaliate or to lose even more of their soldiers, of their people. There would be attacks against the Guard by their operatives who might have been coerced into it or not, it did not truly matter. What did matter was that if they did this correctly, the Princess would have no choice but to retreat, not if she wanted her peoples to survive without being torn apart by attacks from all angles, from all possible avenues.

Subversive in all manner of different ways.

They would engender a feeling of fear, of suspicion in the Guard, who would then take it out on the populace in order to stay alive.

Said populace would then rise up as was standard against the Princess, demanding that she leave, that she was a danger and it would be better if she wasn't in the area at all. It was a risky plan, but it was one that was almost certainly bound to work given that the Guard were a known force, their reactions could be predicted especially by the Thinkers on the Cartel payroll.

With the civilian rioting and protesting and calling for the Princess to leave… well, she was weak. She would cave in and pull back her forces.

They would not win through open warfare, that was something that was simply impossible. All the scenarios in which they did manage to hold back the line was if the super heavy hitters of the PRT joined their side for some unknown reason, something that was not remotely possible.

To do things covertly was their only option and they would be making the best of the small amount of leeway that they had.

This was not a battle of the military, this was a battle of the minds and of public opinion.

They would be waging their war in the public sphere, using social media, using the public itself as a weapon against the Princess. The more brutal that her soldiers became, the more death that was recorded on camera, the more ammunition they would receive to poison the minds of everyone else against her.

It was a plan that required a certain kind of person to fulfil. There could be no mercenaries for this, they would need patriots. Should they be caught then their own stories would be weaponized, patriots being abused by the Guard, prisoners for defending their country, or at least trying to return the country to the way it was before.

Yet another victory for the power blocs of South America who were joining the Cartels in opposing the Princess. The moguls, the remnants of the governments, they knew what would be the best option for them to achieve what they wanted, that being a continent free of the Princess.

The initial phases were that of infiltration into the area of operations. They would be based out of many different little zones, each one decentralised, a cell as it were. There could be no links between each other, no way for the Guard with their psykers to steal the information they wanted from the minds of those that were under their control. They would be blind as was right and would be vulnerable to the actions of the other cells if one was eliminated.

At the same time, they would not be doing something as simple as trying to bring their own members in, they were very clearly not patriots. No, they would be recruiting the locals, those who were feeling very… ungenerous to the new regime.

Real patriots, they who would be willing to die to fight against the evil Imperium. It would not even be difficult to poison the minds of the civilians against them, all their own information was available to the public and something that told of just how dangerous they were, how they were going to kill entire cities for disobeying, for destroying everything they hold dear.

If the patriots, the freedom fighters, those who hated the new regime wanted for there to be any kind of change, they would need to do it themselves.

The next phase would begin with the deployment of these soldiers after they had been trained, after they had been given weapons, after they had been taught just how to make explosives and the like into the wild. Each one of them blindfolded as they came in, blindfolded as they came out, no way to lead the Imperium back to the training facilities.

Terror and Havoc.

It would take months, possibly years but it would work in the end.

The Thinkers modelling the Princess had told them that.

This was a war that took patience.

And it all hinged upon the reactions of the Guard.

George12

Dec 19, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 20, 2016

#589

The explosives had been set.

A series of explosives based off of fertiliser, using the ammonia inside of it to make a bomb.

It was a rather big one, a barrel filled with the putty and then laced with various pieces of shrapnel and the like, all of it ready to kill anyone who was walking past… like for example, a certain kind of Imperial Guardsman.

They were patrolling the city and showing themselves to the citizens in such a manner that said they were trying to calm everything down and to prevent any kind of uprising with their presence alone. Whether or not this would actually work depended on how… stable the city was.

Right now it was stable sure… but phase 3 of the Emmanuel plan was about to start.

The soldiers were ready and they were going to be proving themselves very shortly.

Or rather the bombers were ready, they weren't actually soldiers, they weren't going to be dying here.

No, they were going to be detonating the explosives inside of a public square, true, but they weren't actually going to be present.

Or rather they were present, but far away enough that they would be perfectly safe until they needed to run away.

The plan called for maximum enemy casualties with civilians as collateral. The civilian deaths would be necessary as a means of driving public opinion against the Imperium. By destroying everything they were going to be causing public opinion to rise against the Imperium.

Not perhaps the… nicest of plans… but it would work if history was any indication.

The team was situated inside of a church tower, one of the few tall things in this part of the city. Below them was a squad of infantry marching their way down the street, looking like the little model soldiers that they were.

The bombers grinned at each other, fingers ready to press the button that was going to detonate the barrels that had been placed strategically throughout the square. The patrol always went down the same route making it easy enough for them to set up the trap. Thank god for the foolishness of the enemy huh?

As they marched through, the bombers squinted their eyes, willing them to move just a bit faster, just a little be more so that they would reach the explosives earlier. Just a little bit earlier. The threat of being discovered ate on their nerves, hands gripping the little stone relief that was on the side of the little windows. They were peering through a very small opening that had been cut out of the glass itself, no point in trying to make themselves an obvious target. Being outlined against the window itself was merely something that was going to get them killed if their rushed training had been any indication.

It was best if they hid themselves entirely but little openings were fine as a stopgap solution as well. Maybe next time they could make a periscope or something, all the better to hide their presence.

Sweat began to pile up on their bodies, their shirts being drenched in the stuff, dripping down their backs, down their fronts, their pants sticking to their legs, underwear uncomfortably rising up the ass crack. A shower would be the first thing that they did when leaving the tower, it was just too damned humid in here.

Maybe they could have opened one of the other windows as a way to vent the heat.

Or maybe chosen another vantage point, something to consider for next time given how damned hot this place was.

Damn the heat. Damn it to hell.

The two bombers were ineffectually trying to fan themselves, pulling their shirts out and in, trying to get some airflow going.

It was hard. It was not helping but the thought that it was helping was enough for them to try.

Dammit.

Bloody Imperials, why were they marching so slowly.

Just get there already.

Uncomfortably changing their positions, the bombers considered that next time they were going to be bringing chairs along, or at the very least maybe having the opening higher up so they didn't need to squat down like this to look through it.

Oh well, the first time never was perfect.

They continued to look and there finally. The bloody soldiers were at the designated spot where the detonation had been arranged to do the most damage.

It was just too bad that it was a market and there were people all around them.

...

Still, something had to be done for the future of Brazil, they couldn't allow these fascists to take control of the country. The Bombers were doing their patriotic duty and the civilians that were going to die, were going to die because they were serving their country. Their sacrifices would be remembered and in time there was going to be a memorial for them the Bombers thought, convincing themselves of the fact.

They had been recruited by the government, all of them ready to do their duty. It might cost a few civilian lives here and there but it was nothing compared to what would happen should the Imperium take control of Brazil. They would kill all the women and children like the monsters that they were.

Pressing the detonators the two of them were not prepared for the thunderous explosion. The way that it shattered the windows that they were hiding behind, lacing their exposed body parts with glass, piercing the skin, slashing into the eyes, their hands shredded. Down below the blast had liquefied those that survived the shrapnel wave, those that had not were torn to little pieces, little smears on the ground being any sign that there had been people there at all.

The market itself was destroyed, all of the stalls within 50 meters of the explosion shattered so great was the shockwave, those in the area being killed by the blastwave outright, or ripped apart by the shrapnel, the survivors bleeding from wounds all over their bodies, soon to die if they did not receive medical attention very soon.

The entire city had been woken by the blast, the front of the buildings around the area torn apart, the windows for entire blocks fractured.

Nearly 200 people were killed, included in that were later identified to be the two perpetrators of the attack, killed by falling from the top of the clocktower, the only reason they were identified at all was because of how intact their bodies were compared to that of the civilians.

The order had come down that they were preparing for the next phase of the plan. They had not been alerted face to face, that was simply bad security. Rather they were doing it by some very simple and rather clever techniques. Establishing a variety of different signboards that would have code words in plain sight, a means for them to communicate out different messages.

The code words were something that all of them who went through the various little training programs knew by heart. The simplest of which being that if they were of a certain graduating class, they were to attack on a certain date.

It wouldn't do to have everyone attack at the same time and for nothing else to happen in the time afterwards. Neither could they do something like trying to spread the attacks out too far apart where the public could them forget about it. They wanted to ensure that there would be attacks on a constant basis, keep them in the minds of all those that were living in the continent and outside of it.

All would know that there was something wrong and that they would not be able to predict when the next attack happened, that they would not be able to defend against it, that more civilians and more Guardsmen were going to die.

A constant campaign of terror and it was going to ensure that they were in the upper parts of everyone's minds.

Part of that of course, came with ensuring that their message was being sent out around the world or else it might as well have been nothing but useless, or rather worse than useless.

For that reason there was a photographer as part of the next attack, one who was going to make sure that everything done by the operatives were going to be uploaded to the internet, photoshopping the images so they showed off the message perfectly, a PR department for their little freedom fighters.

From there the images would be picked up the various different media groups that had an axe to grind against the Imperial Guard, using the photos as proof of atrocities, condemning the Princess, putting public pressure on her to withdraw. If she wasn't wanted then why would she be there at all?

It made perfect sense and the freedom fighters were preparing themselves even now to begin their next… photo shoot.

The civilians would be a… regretful cost, but it was necessary if they wanted to ensure that they were able to save the country. A few cracked eggs could not make an omelette, a few potatoes to make an even more delicious one.

No, they were going to need to be sacrificed for the greater good.

The patrol was on the way now, the ones known as the Kriegers really did make the best little targets for these operations.

It was a very simple idea really, simple detonating a little explosive in a public area that the Kriegers were heading down, taking photos of the bodies and the Kriegers then escaping.

They couldn't shoot them either, all they had were cameras, that was not bad in the slightest, if anything it was actually good that they were around wasn't it? Making sure that the truth would be broadcast to the world.

The photographers knew the limits, knew what they could get away with and ruthlessly exploited it for the greater good of Peru. They would only engage those that proved an imminent threat to them by the order of their Princess, so cameras(?) perfectly safe, foolish of them.

And then when time passed, the civilians began to avoid the Kriegers for their own safety… well, that was just another chance of getting more photos, wasn't it? Everything was an opportunity if you knew how to play it right.

The explosive was set, the patrol was on the way, and… there.

The detonator was depressed and the patrol was right in the perfect little place.

Perfect.

The explosion wasn't a big one by any means, enough to kill a dozen or so but not more than that. This wasn't meant to be anything big as it were, no it was a publicity stunt, they needed the soldier to be alive for the next part to actually work.

Boom

The smoke cleared and the Krieger squad was right where they wanted them. Standing in the middle of a pile of civilians, some of them were still alive, trying to reach out. Others were gone, their bodies torn to shreds.

Perfect.

The cameraman popped out the other side, kneeling down, the camera already snapping photos.

It was beautiful.

The way the Krieger was stand standing upright over the bodies, lasgun in hand, pointing at a low angle. The way the civilians were just heaped in a little pile in the middle of the street, body parts all over the ground, blood just coating the ground, the way the Kriegers looked like inhuman monsters in the way that they just stood there.

Perfect.

The Cameraman quickly retreated, the photos ready to be uploaded to the internet. Given without context it was going to be the perfect little shot that showed just how bad and evil the Imperial Guard were.

There... little coil of smoke that was coming out of the barrel mmmmm inspired.

They were going to have to remove the images of the Kriegers stooping down to render medical aid, that was just bad publicity.

No, they wanted all of it to be evil, all of it to be bad for the Imperial Guard.

First, the population would be afraid, then the rest of the world and the Imperial Guard were going to be shouted at and attacked on the international stage.

Then the people of the world were going to want to try and resist them, sending help to the South American people, fighting against evil.

If the Guard wanted to invade their country, they were going to do everything in their power to resist, that was only fair wasn't it?

Who cared if it wasn't fact, they were still the enemy.

In war all was fair went the saying, didn't it?

George12

Dec 20, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 20, 2016

#590

Private Mengel of the Cadian Shock Troops moved forward on his patrol. Only in this case, he was not doing it through a city that had been pacified where the peoples were happy, where they were glad for their presence on the world.

This felt like he was patrolling a city that was on the verge of rebelling against the Imperium, one that was merely waiting for a bolt to ignite the Prometheum that was on the ground. Promethium that had coated each and every single little thing that the Imperials were using.

It was as if he was going to be sniped at any moment from separatist troops or heretics.

The worry was not something that he enjoyed feeling that much was for certain.

It was certainly not something that he had much experience with either, the way that had to constantly watch, yet never being able to retaliate, never able to engage into the crowd as he had been trained to do. If one was a danger, they all were.

They were civilians, they were disposable, interchangeable, all the 'ables', yet the Princess had decreed that they would not be doing that, that they would not be following standard doctrine. No, they would not retaliate unless the enemy showed themselves clearly, that they were identified as enemy, that they were clearly hostile and had begun or were about to begin hostilities before they could engage.

It was something that Mengel did not have any experience with, nor did any of the others within his squad or even his regiment he was sure.

The Princess had ordered it and he was sure that she had her own plan… even if he didn't really like it… or even understand what it was she was trying to do here.

The residents of the city did not seem to understand that the Imperium was here now, to resist was futile. They still tried to attack the patrolling Guardsmen, tried to attack their bases, tried to engage them, tried to do many things that would only result in their deaths… yet they had been ordered to not engage as per standard doctrine.

If you were shelled, then naturally the response would be to shell them back would it not? To drop their own artillery into the enemy positions that they had fired from, the Machine Spirits eager to deliver painful death of their own.

Yet the order never eventuated. They defended themselves, of course, the Multi-Las Tarantula turrets were capable of destroying the artillery before it came in, yet they were not allowed to retaliate, a purely defensive stance.

The Princess had her plan they were sure… even if it was a plan that didn't seem very good. They were going to be getting themselves killed out here that much was for certain. The damned locals intent on trying to engage them at every turn.

He had to watch the enemy, people that he knew were the enemy walk around him, unable to do anything.

Just sitting and waiting.

Not able to do anything.

He had heard that another squad of Kriegers in the city over had been killed in a blast, a massive one that was delivered via a civilian vehicle he had been told. The local suiciding into the facility as if he had nothing left to lose. The Kriegers had been leaving for their patrol, the vehicle plowed through them and detonated while inside of the gate, blowing it apart.

The Engineers had patched it up faster than he could say 'patch' but it was still yet another squad that had been killed.

He was sure that at any point he was going to be engaged. It was like fighting the Chaos Cultists all over again. One minute they were there, the next minute they weren't, then they were exploding themselves all over your base.

It was frustrating and sometimes he wished all cultists were Khornate ones, at least they had the decency to scream and holler to let you know where they were coming from.

These insurrectionists, however… the shadows. Always from where you didn't expect it and that was just the heights of frustration.

His carapace armour as requested from the armoury for all patrolling teams, a decision made by the Princess that had saved his life on more than one occasion, the blast perforating the kevlar vest that he wore over it. The fact that it was able to penetrate the vest at all told him they were trying their very hardest to kill him and those around him.

He would be happy if not for the fact that it was his life at stake here, that he shouldn't need the armour at all.

Mengel carefully watched as a woman walked past him, her long flowing dress with its garish colours was a possible threat. Many of the enemy had taken to dressing as women, using the long and baggy dresses to hide weapons that they used to engage them at close range.

He hadn't had it happen to him, but he was always ready to engage, he had to be.

One moment of lapse, of laziness and he was going to doom his squad to destruction. He could not afford to have that happen.

As the point-man, it was his task to clear each and every one of those that walked before him. His eyes shifting left and right to check every single piece of ground before him, of the men and women, of the walls, of the everything.

The little pile of rubbish left haphazardly to the side might hold a series of explosives designed to pepper the squad with shrapnel from the legs down, wounding them, forcing them to remain stationary as a mortar strike zeroed in on them.

It had happened before and it was no doubt going to happen again.

Mengel frowned as he kept walking, his face hidden behind the respirator of his carapace helm, all the protection he could get. He had even taken to stapling rolls of Kevlar to his shoulders and the like, anything to better defend himself against the inevitable explosions and slugs from the rear or the side.

The Munitorum official seemed to be ready to argue with that, not wanting to give up his precious rolls of material, but he hadn't gotten any sleep for weeks now, he understood the necessities of the field.

His was a stressful job and he certainly was not having a good time.

He glanced about the area as he moved his feet forward, his body shaded and protected by the walls to his left. None of them walked in the middle of the street, that was just asking for a sniper to take down the entire squad. No, they were on the sides for instant cover in the event that something went wrong and they needed to dive to the ground.

As for Mengel, he held up his fist to have the squad stop as he poked at the little bag that was on the floor in front of him, the pile of rubbish being a prime candidate for a small Improvised Explosive Device.

While he did so, the others were checking on the civilians who were walking up and down the street. The fear that they would be ambushed while the entire squad was stationary being enough to have them all worried. It had happened enough times already that they were cautious of any and all civilians who were making their way over. Or at least it felt like they were making their way over. No doubt they were merely getting on with their lives, continuing little routines that had been set in stone long before the Guard arrived on this world… but every step was one that caused fear, every time one came too close fingers instinctively closed on triggers.

The Guard were not used to feeling this much fear and caution regarding their own peoples, they were meant to be on their side after all, if they had to fear their own rear line, then how could they effectively fight on the front line?

It was just simply logical in this case.

Simple yet not so simple. Their entire effort so far being subverted by whoever it was that was planning these. They were bogged down here on this continent, they couldn't do anything, the worry about a full blown civilian uprising enough for Command to commit increasing numbers of forces to the continent.

Did they not understand that their actions were condemning this world further? They did not have the time.

Mengel considered himself rather intelligent… for a Guardsman and he could see just how broken things were when humanity feared itself more than the giant monsters that were eating the humans.

As he poked his way through the rubbish pile with a stout stick that usually hung on his left waist, he let out a small sigh of relief when he came up with nothing.

Thankfully.

He wouldn't be dying here.

Or receiving massive internal organ damage.

Either or.

Motioning the squad forward again, he made sure to keep his eyes on the rooftops as well, the enemy so did love to try and ambush the Guard as they made their way through the city. A primitive rocket system that they could use to engage those on the ground before fleeing again. Their Servo-Skull was checking the skies for them, but it wouldn't be enough to detect those that were hidden beneath various pieces of scrap or rubbish. The Imperial Guard didn't get the good ones, that was for certain.

Surplus… surplus for days.

Mengel kept plodding forward, the little cracks in the ground, whether or not they looked old… or if someone had planted something underneath then put a fresh coat of 'crete over it.

Thankfully 'crete was the same no matter what universe you were in and the weathered look certainly was not something that could be easily replicated… but it could… which was yet another problem.

It was trivial to use some physical tools and dirt to make fresh 'crete look ancient.

As he kept making his way through what was the residential district of this city, Mengel maintained his state of alertness. Every step taken with the knowledge that it might be his last, the enemy having planted something to catch him unawares, or to catch those behind him unawares.

Eyes constantly scanning, fingers dripping underneath his gloves (that thankfully did not become slippery with sweat), his back cold despite the heat. Every step one that was done with extreme awareness of every part of his body. He would need to know each and every part of himself, he needed to be able to detect the smallest change in the air.

It might have just been a soldier's superstition but he sometimes felt that he could feel ill intent, maybe they were just broadcasting their killing intent too strongly. Or perhaps the electricity from the detonators made its way through the air and setting off the goosebumps underneath his fatigues?

Sometimes there was a change in the air where it felt like the area was now malevolent from the cheerful if subdued attitude it had before. A subtle way of the world to tell him that there was an ambush waiting around the corner. A rapid change that made things look darker, the sweat dripping, hands tightening on their rifles.

Or perhaps there was an ambush to the rear, a sniper ready to engage him, the tiny slit between his helmet and the backplate of his neck all that stood between him and a throatshot.

In extreme cases there wouldn't be any warning at all, they would collapse walls onto the patrol, crushing them underneath tonnes of material.

In all cases they didn't care about civilian casualties and so he couldn't use the as a gauge. Trying to figure out whether or not something would happen through the civilians was an exercise in futility. Something the civilians no doubt felt as they too shied away from the patrols, not wanting to be too close in case they were caught up in whatever it was that was going to be happening.

Which further exacerbated the apprehension that the Guardsmen felt to civilians that were getting too close. Why were these civilians approaching when all the others weren't? What were they thinking of doing?

What the frak are they doing?

The entire patrol was one spent tense. Where every single one of them felt as if their bodies were on edge, that there was going to be something… anything to break the fragile ice.

Not a good feeling.

One he was feeling every time he set foot outside of the compound.

This was going to be a long deployment that was for sure.

At least the Orks were honest about their feelings.

George12

Dec 20, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 21, 2016

#605

The South American continent had been "captured". They were "victorious" in the broadest sense of the word.

Sure they had the land, but they did not have the continent, in every city there was still resistance on the scale as that of the Genestealer cult, or Cultists, or Tau sympathizers. Terrorist actions that were aimed at the Guard, actions that were killing thousands, them being spread across an entire continent ensuring that the death toll rose with every single day.

The Princess was not happy at all.

Rather she was… she was furious.

But there was so very little that she could do.

The Princess had been studying alongside Magnus and in doing so she had been taught the general history of the Imperium. The greatest threat to the Imperium she had found was not that of the Xeno, of the Heretic, of the Mutant.

No.

It was of the people themselves.

They were human and so they were susceptible to the vices that came with that fact, that they were weak of the body, of the spirit, of the mind.

They who thought that while they were safe inside of the Imperium, that paying tithe was not something that they needed to do, that the Imperium was unfairly taking from them. And so without a constant Imperial presence in the form of battle ready tanks, ships and the like, the Planetary Governors, beings who were akin to minor gods on most of these worlds declared them independent. And in doing so caused their peoples to rise up against that of the Imperium, killing Arbites, destroying convents of the Sororitas, killing the local Commissar and more.

In the end, the world would need to be subjugated, the most common task that the Imperial Guard would ever find themselves completing, the peoples of these worlds all requiring a demonstration as to why it was that the Imperium existed, to ensure that all of humanity would be under their umbrella. 1 million independent worlds were much less effective than 1 million unified worlds.

Upon landing on the worlds themselves, often contested with orbital defences, the Guard would crush the local resistance efforts, they being that of the now traitor Planetary Defence Forces and possibly other Imperial Regiments.

It was generally an extremely easy task, the subjugation of a world being a concern that took time as opposed to effort, the PDF being weak enough that the Guard could roll over them with little to no concern.

It would generally end there, but in some cases, there were those that were ideologically motivated. The death of the leader doing nothing but creating for them a martyr by which they could rally behind.

And it was in this that the tactics that the Primarch was seeing unfold before her very eyes were acted out.

It must be understood that a vast majority of humans were apathetic about who was in charge so long as their way of life remained the same. Humanity was nothing if not particular about that singular clause in their existences.

Those that were attacking knew that they were unable to defeat the Regiments, they knew that they were inferior in almost every metric that could be used to measure their strength. It was a given.

No, the point of their attacks was not to attack the regiments directly, but to indirectly attack the populace. By blaming their actions upon the Guard, that the Guard were the reason for these bombings, for this death, for this destruction, for this disruption of the norm that they were all used to, the peoples would become increasingly discontent with the Guard and rise up.

The Guard were powerful, but they were not powerful enough to fight against an entire planet's worth of people powerful. A single regiment being spread over an entire world was merely a target for an entire planet's worth of peoples.

It was therefore, a commonly accepted tactic by those of inferior combat strength to do similar in an attempt to rile the population against the Imperium. It was particularly subversive since it was that they knew just how to provoke the greatest reaction by the Guard.

After all, it it was merely them who were attacking the civilians, they would be labelled as the enemy, the terrorists and in doing so render their entire plan moot.

No, what was the principal cause of the people rising up was that of the Imperial response to such attacks, that of overwhelming response to the attacks that had been conducted against it. Willingly using their artillery, armour and more to crush any signs of resistance. A concern when for every single subversive element that was ended, there were thousands of civilian deaths.

For the Imperium it was merely the accepted manner of doing things at this point. The enemy's tactics becoming less widespread due to the manner in which the Imperium usually responded to provocation these days.

Should a city show that kind of rebellion, then entire neighbourhoods would be purged, their peoples killed wholesale. In doing so the civilians would understand what the punishments were for allowing the terrorists to exist within their cities and seek them out on their own, anything to prevent further widespread destruction. When it continued for long enough, then came the next phase which was the wholesale destruction of entire cities with all of their inhabitants, suppressing populations through extreme levels of fear and awe.

To rebel was to die, to assist in a rebellion was to die, to allow for one to happen was a to die.

There was no alternative and for those that thought they could get away with doing nothing, they learnt that in doing so their families were condemned to die.

Through the brutal fist of the Imperium, they had ended those using similar tactics here in South America. Similar because there were aspects to it which were strange to the Imperials. The way they were posting the images online for others to condemn the Princess made little sense, The Imperium did not care about public opinion.

The reasoning of the enemy made little sense in the eyes of the Imperium. What they were planning to do using public opinion? While it was useful as a weapon to rile up the populations of others around the world, the fact that it was localised into a single continent did nothing. Humanity was notoriously apathetic and while they might be able to influence public opinion by their actions, it was not to such a degree that it actually mattered when it did not affect themselves.

By ensuring the uprising was only in a single area, they did nothing but agitate the continent.

There was the small problem that the Imperium did not control the rest of the world, but it was not as if they did not have 2 other holdings, the continent of Africa and that of the city of the Princess.

The Imperium did not understand what it was that they were thinking in all honesty. They wished to force the Princess out of one continent? Were they not aware that she was going to rule over the entire world?

Questions, questions, questions. There were many of them and the Imperium did not understand truly what was going on.

That is except for the First Hand.

She was not of the Imperium and her mindset was not as set as those of the council. They who still thought in terms of planetary systems of unified governments, of worlds to conquer. Their minds bound by the the distances a void craft could travel and not that of human feet.

While her Primarch had been studying humanity in the Imperium, it was a different one made so by the different circumstances in which they had been made. This was one that was still fundamentally human, however. It was understandable then, humanity had always been so.

"Why are they doing this? What are they trying to do?" Taylor asked, her face set.

"They wish for us to pull out of South America," Lisa said from her place on the council table. That of one directly to the right of Taylor herself.

"Pulling out of South America? How do they plan on doing that? Do they not understand that we are the Imperium? That we will crush them?" Asked Colonel Knight, her face set in a scowl.

"They are banking on the fact that the Princess will see the deaths of her men and in feeling pity for them will end the conflict in order to save as many of her men as possible." Said the First Hand, looking across to Knight.

"We are the Imperial Guard! We will not falter in the face of casualties!"

"No, you will not. But they believe that the Princess will. That in the end, she will buckle under the orders she has to give and for her to retreat the regiments." Lisa said, leaning back in the chair.

"Who are these… they that you are referring to?" Asked Taylor, elbows on the table, face set in a frown.

"They are the ones who oppose your rule. We have the cartel leaders, government officials, generals, politicians, warlords. Anyone who might want to oppose you and also has the men and the funds to do so. In addition, South America is turning into a proxy war that the other nations that want to oppose you are sending mercenaries, funds and weapons into." Lisa said, turning to Hurosius in order that he be able to give a better report.

"They have not yet decided a name for themselves if their low level communications is of any indication. Infighting has dampened their overall effectiveness in terms of their leadership and their ability. The continued injection of further men and women into their machine as we take out those that have been identified has served to bring their leadership into doubt. Infighting appears to be spread to all levels of the situation." Hurosius continued.

"But if the Princess does not pull back the Regiments, then what are they planning to do?" Asked Maxine, looking perplexed at the strange way of waging war that these people possessed.

"They are planning on escalating the conflict to the stage where the Princess has no choice but to either pull back, or to stay in which case the civilian population will be targeted. In targeting the civilians they will be able to blame the Guard for the deaths and have the people rise up to call for the expulsion of the Guard from the continent." Lisa explained, trying to condense the convoluted thinking that had led to this.

"And they expect the Regiments to just do nothing?"

"No. They expect the Regiments to act as they have in the works that have been published in this world. They expect the Regiments to react by sending artillery at suspected locations, air raids, subjugation strikes and the like. They expect the regiments to act like regiments and in doing so force the population to resist out of fear of their own safety."

"Wait wait wait. You're saying that they are attacking the Guard so that we will retaliate and then they can blame us for the damage done to the civilians. And the longer we stay the more they escalate and the more powerful the retaliation? So they're punching us in the gut and then we kick the dog down the road? What kind of sick fucks are these guys?" Asked Black, he was both bodyguard and voice of the average grunt at the table. He was Catachan, suppression of worlds had never been his deployment, he had skills that were better employed elsewhere.

"The kind that know they are facing an overwhelming force and are trying to find any and all avenues with which they can resist." Said Lisa, her voice dry.

"What the hell, so we react and they can blame us, if we don't then they escalate and then they blame us, hell it's all our fault anyway. Just what the hell do we do in this kind of situation?"

Taylor leant on the table, he face hidden behind her hands.

She breathed in deep and looked to face the assembled council.

"We do nothing. We cannot afford to do anything lest we cause the populations to rise up. And no. We will not destroy these people. I… I will not allow for that to happen. We weather this storm no matter what is thrown against us. We will grow their countries, we will make them great, we will take the people on our side and leave them alone and isolated. They will not be allowed to emerge from this victorious. The men will suffer. I… I understand that." Taylor said, tilting her head further down.

The council was silent, there were really only 2 options if they wished to emerge from this victorious, utter destruction of all on the continent… or non-retaliation in the hopes the civilians would join their side and attack the aggressors on their own.

Neither seemed palatable at the moment.

Annihilation of a continent or the death of more Imperials?

The Princess had made a difficult choice and she was not going to be swayed. They knew that. "Lisa. Am I… Am I doing the right thing?" Taylor asked, Lisa looking up for a moment, her face twisted with confusion.

Lisa had been reading the reports that were coming out of South America, the way the economies were being retooled by the Imperium would probably provide a means by which they could… reduce subversive activities.

By injecting into their economies new technology, innovation of industry was possible and South America had abundant natural resources in the first place. By firmly grasping the triumvirate, that of technology, resources, and labour in hand, South America would be able to advance from their previously stagnant position.

Give the people work and money and they would be happy.

Which should solve part of their problems at least, the happier a peoples were, the less likely they were to rebel. Of course, there were exceptions to this…

Whether or not those in South America currently were exceptions to the little rule was something that had to be considered, they certainly were… subversive, but they were also showing a rather remarkable level of sophistication that meant that the chances of it being a grassroots movement were very slim.

The ring leaders were being frustratingly elusive and they were still nowhere closer to finding out just who was funding the damned thing than they had been in the first week. Already a month and they were receiving nothing but more and more reports of deaths over the continent, deaths that were of her Guardsmen and of civilians. Their little leaders were dying and leads were emerging, but they were replaced in time, as they always were.

Taylor had laid down the law in the first place and they were going to obey, anything else was impossible.

There would be no over retaliations, she had been very clear on that one, no hammering artillery into suspected militant areas, no sending in their strike teams to clear out entire city blocks in the wake of an attack, no rounding up civilians to be interrogated.

Taylor however… she was being conflicted Lisa could see. Very conflicted.

She sighed.

It was going to take a certain level of… willpower to get through this one with her sanity intact.

By ordering her troops to retaliate only after they had been engaged, the enemy (who hadn't given themselves a name, internal infighting saw to that) began to exclusively use explosives and the like. They had been killing her Guardsmen and in turn, Taylor had not been able to respond, not unless she wanted to break one of her dictates.

It was a game of chicken, a very big, very dangerous game of chicken that was going to backfire on Taylor or the enemy if they were not careful.

For Taylor, it was the matter that in denying retribution strikes her own Guard would take it upon themselves to act on their own and ruin Taylor's plan in the first place. Or the enemy would continue to act with abandon and cause the civilians to rise up against them.

Whatever came first would see the other side gain a victory in this situation.

It was hard for Taylor, seeing the death reports, ones she insisted on reading before she started the rest of her duties for the day.

"It depends on what is the right thing, Taylor," Lisa replied, trying to get Taylor to elaborate on her own question. The girl already knew what she wanted to do, Lisa knew that. It was just sometimes she needed validation, a little problem that was going to need to be dealt with if she was going to truly carry out her duties as a Primarch.

"By ordering my men not to fight back." She said, forcing Lisa to once again draw it out of her.

"And why would that be a bad thing Taylor?" Lisa asked, crossing out a line here, adding a new one there… ok. If things continued as they were and the Guard managed to keep any saboteurs out of the facility, the new farm tractors would be ready for deployment/sale next week from the Argentinean Manufactorum.

In doing so it would provide for the people of Argentina 5000 jobs, while also providing more jobs in the industries needed to support the Manufactorum with materials and resources, while also in turn allowing for many more to benefit from the increased food production. 50,000 jobs in total… not bad.

Someone thought it would be a good idea to have Tarantula turrets inside the thing, bad idea. Those looked far too creepy as it was.

No, they were going to be keeping all of this on the "down low" as they liked to say. No point in scaring anybody, they wanted to project an image of the Imperium being the "good guys" after all. Something that would die a very quick death if they had turrets everywhere. That was why they were hidden in the walls and ceiling.

"Well, they are going to get themselves killed if I don't let them shoot earlier," Taylor said, Lisa mentally clapping. Yay Taylor can work out the consequences of her actions, yay. Maybe she could have done that before building giant plant statues on the outskirts of the city that totally didn't just scare everyone and got her labelled an S-Class threat by the PRT (not that she wouldn't have been one anyway, it just tipped them over the edge into announcing it.)

"And why are you doing that Taylor?" Lisa asked as she picked up another report. This one was about… farming Grox in Bolivia? Were they insane? Were they aware of what the hell a Grox was? It was going to just go around killing people if they got loose of their pens, which they generally did with great frequency.

Denied.

"Umm… I'm doing it so that the civilians won't get caught in the crossfire. So that in the end, there are less dead civilians because of me." She said, sounding less and less… loud. Withdrawing into herself.

Lisa gave a brief sigh and patted the chair by her side.

Normally Lisa would have been more supportive of her Primarch, but she had been doing this, or a variation of this conversation for the last month… every single day of the last month.

Even she, the soul bound of the Princess had limits, she was not a Primarch, she did not possess the infinite well of patience that Magnus had. No, she was human, she was vulnerable like a human and she was very much a human. None of this super duper mental power shit for her.

She was even less capable than a Space Marine, just what the hell did they want for her to be doing?

"Ok. so you have less civilians that are dying. And what are the downsides of this?" Lisa asked.

Mentally gearing herself while Taylor lent that super human brain of hers to the problem, Lisa looked back at the reports that were pending approval in front of her.

Seriously.

Did they not have entire planets of just paperwork lying around? Just people who spent their entire lives doing paperwork.

Just what in the name of God was Lisa doing all of this for?

Oh right.

Because some idiot thought it would be a good idea to import animals from the Imperium for a petting zoo.

Uuuuuuugh.

Letting the civilians put forward their own ideas for things was a good idea, it took the burden off of the Imperials, crowdsourcing ideas.

Only there had to be a gate since stirring everything into a pot produced a lot of brown.

"The downsides are that I'm sending my soldiers to die instead of the civilians?" Taylor said, as Lisa hammered the DENIED stamp on the application. No exotic strange creatures from the Imperium in my bloody country, or world… they were going to get loose, it was inevitable. Seriously, when was there a time when something did not go catastrophically wrong?

Hmmmmmm?

"So what is the tradeoff there Taylor. What is the tradeoff and are you willing to make it?" Lisa asked absently.

"The more of my soldiers that die, the less civilians die. The more civilians die then the less soldiers die."

"Yes, that's the tradeoff. Now, what are the consequences of that in the long term?" Lisa asked as she wetted her finger on the damp sponge and pulled another sheet of parchment towards her. Also parchment. Just what the hell was this stuff? She had heard the Tech Priests had stuff that was thousands of years old and she believed it. Seriously, each sheet was like pulling a plane of malleable acrylic towards her. Tough enough she needed a knife if she wanted to cut off a section.

Maybe that was why they used chainswords, so they could cut the bloody parchment.

Also standard sizes? Where was her A4 and her A3 and her A5? What the fuck is this mutant size that doesn't fit in any printer?

Hand written?

Fuck all of that noise.

Seriously, the bloody printers were half skull things that had little ink needle… things… what was wrong with a good printer? Little box that didn't let you see anything at all.

"In the long run the more civilians die, the more discontent they become and the most discontent that they are the more likely they will rise up which means even more, civilians die and soldiers too. If the soldiers die… then they might rebel but probably not? So less casualties overall?" Taylor said, her voice lilting up to indicate that she wasn't quite sure as to her answer but it was probably good enough not that she thought about it.

"Right. And the natural extensions of all of that. What is going to happen if it continues to its logical conclusion?" Lisa asked, thumbing through a report that detailed just… goddamn it Hurosius.

She knew that fucking Mechanicus was anal retentive, because they recycled their poop, but in a figurative way as well. Who gave a shit how many people with black hair there were in this city and how pure the humans were. They didn't have any aliens to mix DNA with, of course, they were going to be fucking pure. Each and every person in the bloody city of Brockton had their reports done up, written in microfilm (or something like it) and then slapped onto her desk in a 100 page report.

Why were they worried, they didn't even have Genestealers on this planet. They didn't have aliens at all… except the Endbringers and dammit, the Endbringers weren't having sex anytime soon.

Fucking Mechanicus

"Well, if the soldiers aren't killing then there's no real escalation on our side. But on their side, they are escalating and then the public will turn on them. And the other side… we have to burn down everything?" Taylor asked as Lisa threw the report into the little vent that would slide it down in the archives, or as she called it 'the forgotten realms'.

"Right. So what are you going to do. Cost lives or save them. Both sides are going to get people killed, one is going to get less people killed. One side has you killing those that are yours, the other is random people on the street. What do you pick?" Lisa asked, her hands flashing to the left as she avoided yet another pile of paperwork delivered by a Cherubim.

Who was fucking creepy as shit. What the fuck Mechanicus

"I… I'll do what I've been doing," Taylor said, shoulders hunched forward.

"Why are they doing this Lisa. Why are they trying to be like this?" She asked her, pacing around Lisa's office.

"They are trying to set it up so that they can stand in a better position when you do conquer the world, Taylor. They know that you are going to win, but by how much is the question. If you can't pacify the people of a single continent then they will be in a position where they can bargain with you and maybe even take positions of power. It doesn't matter to them if you are kicked out or not, as long as you are being kept busy, as long as the Regiments are taking losses. That's all they care about. The longer this goes on, the more power they will have on the bargaining table. They don't care about the casualties Taylor, they just want power for themselves" Lisa said, leaning back.

The bastards had been hiding themselves so using a strike team to wipe them out, was out of the question. They couldn't find the bastards, to begin with, let alone strike at them. Hiding in bunkers under mountains, old ruins, temples. It was going to take months and massive amounts of manpower to canvas the entire continent.

The entire process by which they did anything was decentralized so that wasn't any help.

Just… fucking… uuuugh.

Just one break. Just one little break was all that they needed, take out the ones in charge and it should bring it all toppling down.

Hopefully.

Until then, Lisa had paperwork and just because there were people dying, it didn't mean the paperwork stopped.

If anything it got worse.

Damn them.

George12

Dec 21, 2016

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Threadmarks 070 Insurgency

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George12

OAMU

Dec 21, 2016

#607

The Princess' Guard had their hands full to the South and were as such temporarily putting their plans for the rest of the world on hold.

Not that there really were plans… it was more of a situation where they understood that things were in flux and that it was better for them to react to changes in the situation as opposed to making those changes as they might have been… tempted to do so.

The Guard were aware that it would not be for another few months that they would be able to begin full scale operations in the manner that the Princess demanded of them. No complete subjugation and destruction of those that were trying to oppose them. Rather they were going to be bringing the worlds under Imperial Compliance in the… most pacifist manner possible.

It was going to therefore, require far more men and women to accomplish than it otherwise would have and as a result, the Regiments were waiting for further reinforcements before they went forth.

For something of this scale, millions were going to be required as that situation in South America was demonstrating so handily.

It was better to station a squad on every corner to catch potential saboteurs and to prevent attacks, while being able to track down those that did brave the numbers.

By overwhelming them with sheer numbers, the Guard were able to finally bring the situation under control, the deaths that plagued the Primarch's conscience slowed by the efforts of the Guard.

It was not before where had been thousands of dead civilians every month as a result of the actions of the 'Terrorists' as the Princess had taken to labelling them, their presence a blight upon the world.

The Princess had decided therefore that they would be recuperating, while dealing with the occasional upsurge in violence. Those in charge had now been captured (their replacements were exactly the same however,) and the Guard were still in full force, any lapse could be taken advantage of and allow for those on the other side to attack and kill yet more civilians, a way for them to cause the Guard to fail their mission.

It would not be allowed, no matter the cost.

There was an unexpected side benefit that was certainly making the Princess and the First Hand happy.

Under the restrictions of the Princess' orders, they of the Princess' Guard had been forbidden from simply crushing all those that stood against them, suspected or real. A situation that had seen them forced to… innovate and shudder adapt.

They of the Guard had begun to talk to the local population, a means for them to… communicate… to possibly find the location of the enemy through the local news sources.

It was… something that they were finding… very difficult to say the least.

In the most basic of levels, this was not what they were used to doing. They were the Imperial Guard, the Astra Militarum, the Face of the Hammer that was the might of the Imperium.

They were sent in when the situation had become untenable, when there was the absolute need for absolute force.

There was no way for they of the Guard to behave in the manner that they were being expected to here on this world.

The Princess wanted things done peacefully, very few Regiments had ever done anything similar.

It was not something that they were capable of doing after all.

The most common source of combat that a Regiment would face within the Imperium was not the Xeno, nor the Heretic, nor the mutant. No the most common enemy was that of the insurrectionist, the regular human that desired to segregate from the Imperium and it was required that they be destroyed quickly, efficiently, and the Regiments deployed elsewhere.

They were the Regiments and they were in finite supply, spending so much time attempting to negotiate with a populace instead of crushing them under foot?

A Foreign concept.

So foreign that the Tau probably used it.

Damned slit faces.

And so it was that the Regiments found themselves… communicating with the possible insurrectionists and many of them were taking many times the showers that they would have had otherwise.

It was something that was a waste of rationed water, but even the Kriegers understood, one needed to wash the Taint of Doubt from the body and the mind lest they serve to corrupt a loyal servant of the Emperor to turning against His will.

It was all very dramatic in the eyes of the Princess and her First Hand, but it was infinitely better than the alternative.

As for the Princess, she had grown… used to the idea of there being insurrections. She had grown used to the idea that her men were dying. She had grown used to the idea that the civilians were dying, the innocent.

Or rather she had grown a facade that allowed for her to pretend that she was used to it, but in reality, she was very much not.

It would be a matter of time before she cracked and her council were desperately trying to find something… anything that could possibly divert her attention.

The last time a Primarch had cracked they had turned to Chaos and some of them for the best reason it seemed. Trying to find a more efficient way to do things, turning to Chaos when there was nothing else that could solve their problems, desperation damning their souls.

There had to be something that they could do to prevent the same occurring in this situation.

Something would need to be done, and it did not matter if it was the most brutal of solutions possible, for the Princess being angry at them for removing the source of her angst meant that she was no longer angsting.

A short burst of anger compared to a descent into the arms of Chaos was preferable to all of they on her Council. She could not be allowed to turn to Chaos.

No matter the cost, they were prepared to pay it, even should that cost come from defying their Princess.

Mengel walked down the street, this one was… safer than it had been when he had first arrived.

There wasn't the constant threat of an attack anymore, well… there was. But they were being dealt with by a very annoyed Guard and with the assistance of the Mechanicus. They both did not enjoy the inefficiencies that were on display and after a little wrangling, they decided that the best course of action was to work with the tarot they had and ensure the Princess had her wish fulfilled.

Nobody wanted to annoy the Princess.

Nobody.

What that meant was that there were Servo Automata in the air, constantly floating about, their baleful red eyes constantly scanning those below them and around them.

On the ground were the constant patrols of the Imperial Guard, Mengel being but one of them, his posture and face carefully controlled to ensure that he did not come across as threatening in any way.

It was done in part to… look non-threatening and to not scare the civilians.

He had his doubts about that, he was the Guard, he would serve as needed and more often than not, things… needed to be exploded.

It was standard procedure really.

Not exploding things? That took some getting used to but he felt that maybe he was getting there. It wasn't as if they were allowed to be exploding things. The Princess took a very dim view on that.

And so here he was now on his regular patrol, making sure that he was doing his job and that there wouldn't be anything going wrong since if it did… it was his ass on the line.

The Sergeant had been in a bad mood lately and none of the squad was willing to poke him to find out what it was.

This was a man that punched a Tyranid Genestealer in the face when he had run out of ammunition. They had seen it, and they had a very healthy respect for their leader.

As they walked down the street, lasguns lowered, each of them standing on the sides of the street just in case, they found themselves being greeted by the civilians.

Mengel as the point man was always a little jumpy around these occasions, the idea that they could possibly smuggle in a weapon or something similar and pretend to be nice was too damned high.

They had even started using suicide bombers, acting like the damned cultists.

But.

But this was a hearts and minds operation… which meant according to the Sergeant they were not going to be blowing everything up since that would defeat the purpose of it. So Mengel was forced to staring them down as they walked past, checking for any possible signs of weaponry, any signs of explosives, anything at all.

In the sky above him the Servo Automata was scanning them for the exact same things as he was, only it had a proper augur suite that allowed it to accomplish its objectives with much more accuracy than he ever could.

Still, Mengel was a Guardsman and that meant anything that wasn't seen with his Mk 1 eyeball was something that didn't exist.

Invisible units exempted.

Or those that moved faster than he could see.

Or those that were too small for him to see.

Nodding and smiling as required, Mengel considered that maybe having his faceplate on would make this easier.

He didn't need to pretend to smile.

Like… wait.

"Lucas!" He called out in a little bastard tongue they had picked up on a feral world. It let them talk without alerting the civilians as to what they were talking about.

"What?" He replied from the other side of the street.

"Stop fraternizing with the civilians! It is against the Primer Code!" Mengel said, more than a little annoyed that one of his teammates would be doing something as unprofessional as attempting to talk to the civilians.

"It's harmless Mengel. The aren't going to be doing anything you know? Beeeesides, we're going to be stationed here for a while, why can't I get a little local action you know?" Lucas replied, as if that allowed for him to break the Imperial Guard Code.

"They are all potentially hostile! Stop frakking around!"

"Fine fine," Lucas said, holding both palms up in a sign of submission.

Mengel turned his head back to the way it was and kept his eyes forward. They were finally through the worst of it and into the new zones. The ones that had used to resembled the Underhives in the way that they were poorly maintained and full of lawless lowlifes.

Demolished to make way for the new civilian housing sector, or rather, several Hab Blocks plonked down on the road, Mengel felt safe. He knew the layout of each of these like the back of his hand, they were all constructed identically after all.

He had killed heretics in them, Tyranids, cultists, Orks, Tau, you name it and he had killed it.

It felt like a home away from home and even the streets were the same. He knew exactly where each and every piece of cover was, he wasn't going to be left out in the open to die, not today. Smiling at the familiarity, Mengel almost missed the little wink that Lucas was giving the local.

"Dammit Lucas!" He shouted.

"Fine fine," Lucas said, unrepentant.

Dammit.

The longer they were here, the more it appeared that morale degraded and the standard of the men around him fell.

Some of them were even talking about potentially inviting some of the locals out!

It was a sure sign that the Guard was falling apart and something was going to need to be done if he wanted preserve it.

It was on him now!

Mengel nodded at the resolution he had made and continued the patrol, eyes flashing to each and every civilian, the added threat making them even more dangerous in his eyes.

They would either kill… or subvert… dangerous either way.

His thoughts were consumed by the steadily decreasing lack of moral fibre amongst the squad when he was knocked out of his thoughts by the sound of an explosion.

A very big explosion.

Eyes jerking upwards, he looked into the distance.

"Oh frak. That was in the direction of the Schola Progenium." Muttered Lucas.

As part of the roving patrols, it was their duty to respond to immediate threats in the area, which they were going to right now.

The Schola was the place in which the orphans had been gathered and were even now being taught the ways of the Imperium.

If they had decided to attack the Schola…

Mengel put the thought out of his mind and began to run.

Damned terrorists just escalated and the Princess was not going to be happy.

Next is Taylor's... reactions and her own escalation. All hail Plant Queen!

George12

Dec 21, 2016

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Threadmarks 071 Beginning of the End

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George12

OAMU

Dec 22, 2016

#620

Lisa Wilbourn, the First Hand of the youngest of the Primarchs was currently searching for her Primarch who had decided that today would be a good day to go missing and cause everyone to worry about her since that was very clearly the best way to go about doing things.

Yes.

A good plan wasn't it?

Not.

Lisa was more than a little irritated that her Primarch had such little regard for the mental wellbeing of those around her, the worry that they were feeling as she wasn't there to sign their paperwork.

Who else was going to sign Lisa's request for free time so she could wander about the city and maybe try out that new souvlaki place in Hab Block 82. But no, she was here trying to track down the Taylor while behind her Gazza in typical nonchalance just meandered along as if this didn't irritate him at all.

At odds with the way he was constantly alert and waiting for something big and scaly and ugly to burst out of the ground and introduce itself as 'your worst nightmare'.

Which would of course, be just the slightest bit difficult considering that they… well… they had surrounded the entire base with hundreds of meters of plasteel impregnated ferrocrete/plascrete/ceramite and more. Then there were the adamantium plates that were layered every dozen meters or so to add just more strength to it.

If anything wanted to tunnel in it was going to have to try very very hard and even then it would alert the techpriests, the mixture having been dotted with dozens of microphones that would serve to catch the sound if they tried to tunnel in.

It was a very interesting way to do things but right now that didn't concern her at all. What did concern her was the way that Taylor had disappeared and she was not happy about that.

The idea that Taylor would be going off the deep end was something that she didn't want to consider.

For that reason, they were heading down, down into the depths of Princess Base, the depths that had been excavated purely for Taylor to… design… without any casualties.

They didn't want her to do something crazy again and then collapse half of the base in on itself as she had shown she had the potential to do with her giant monster pets.

No, it was a good idea that all of that was separate and she wasn't going to be doing anything potentially… very dangerous. Rather she could leave all of that up to Magnus.

Judging from the cackling inside of that Laboratory, itself guarded by what looked like an entire squad of Terminators, Lisa wasn't going anywhere near that.

As for Her Primarch, she was inside of here somewhere and Lisa was going to need to dig her out, possibly even likely if she was going to be stubborn about this.

There was a Grav Lift all the way to the bottom and as Lisa held her long dress down her legs, all the better to avoid having it flip into her face and expose everything… which would probably cause Gazza to laugh at her.

The bastard.

Regardless she dropped down. All the way down.

Wooo.

Yes. Very woooo.

It was something that was pretty awesome and if you could get bored over it, you were probably a super terrible human being of some kind.

Or just boring.

Regardless, down she went.

Eyes wide open, feet buckled, the lines on the walls turning red indicating that it would be a good idea for her to prepare for landing otherwise she might break something.

Aaaaand there she went.

Boompf.

Eyes wide open, she groaned and shook her legs, the impact something that went all the way up her bones and dammit, she was still young. This wasn't what she should be experiencing dammit.

"Next time I'll hold you," Gazza said from behind her.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, these lifts have been calibrated for Space Marines, not normal humans. You're lucking you have broken anything on the way down." He said, grinning at her.

"And you didn't tell me this?"

"I was going to snatch you if you had your posture wrong, but you worked it out in the end." He said.

Lisa glared at him before walking forward and down the massively long corridor that was the entrance to 'The Garden' as it was known to the Guard.

A truly massive facility that existed to facilitate the Princess' enjoyment of life, or in other words a place for her to have something that would allow for her to do things that would embarrass her if she did it outside.

Like cackling to herself like Magnus.

She was still a 16 year old girl, if she was used to being in the open for everyone to see then something was probably a little wrong.

Standing outside of the door, Lisa took a deep breath.

Even from behind the blast doors that were the kind they usually put on ships, each one 1 meter deep, capable of handling the ship around it breaking in half.

…

And there were tendrils of roots? Vines? Whatever it was poking through the sides and digging into the concrete around it.

Lisa took a deep breath and forged forward. Her Primarch needed her and she wasn't going to let her down now.

Assuming she was going to make it out of this that is.

Hopefully, she would?

What if there was a garden full of man eating plants that thought of her a food?

She didn't want to die today!

Or any day, but especially not today.

She hadn't tried the new Emperor Flavour Ice Cream that was gold in colour and taste apparently.

Dammit Taylor.

Putting her hand on the biometrics scanner, Lisa half hoped it would deny her access, meaning she could call Magnus to do it and then escape.

Only for it to flash green.

Dammit.

Technology never doesn't work until you don't want it to.

Or was it technology always works until you want it to?

The same? Double negative perhaps?

Lisa shook her head and got back to doing things… like walking through a giant jungle.

Okay.

Thank you, Taylor.

Yes.

This is what I wanted to do today.

You read my mind Taylor, truly amazing, with skills like this you should become the international mind reader queen.

"Fucking ridiculous."

Her mutter was heard. She knew it.

Gazza's snort wasn't as hidden as he would have liked. The bastard.

Taking a step forward, she was glad that she had taken to wearing boots. Fuck high heels when you are in a base that's half the size of Brockton Bay at this point.

She wasn't willing to get surgery like Maxine had either, cybernetic feet because that was where fashion would naturally go in the future, wouldn't it? The natural conclusion to the fashion wars.

Or something.

Even her power didn't understand fashion which was saying something.

She heard a sniff to her left.

A sniff?

"Are you crying?" Lisa asked the giant man.

"No. It's just really humid in here." He said, a hitch in his voice.

"What is it?" She said, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing. Don't make me tell stories of what you did on that planet with the Tech Priests and their dog."

"Fine. It just reminds me of Catachan is all." He mumbled.

Lisa looked around the place, her face twisted with distaste.

There was a forest, an enormous forest, the kind that wouldn't be out of place in the Amazon, full of… plants.

The most terrifying looking plants that she had ever seen.

There were enormous pitcher plants, but their insides had razor sharp teeth and they undulated with what looked like 50 billion different colours. Then there were the vines above her head, the ones that had large hook like things… serrated hooks the size of her hand.

Lisa walked forward, making sure to stick to the path in the middle and not to stray, Gazza following closely behind.

They didn't want to be eaten or whatever it was that this place had. Even Gazza was showing a modicum of respect for it all, what with it all resembling Catachan, which naturally meant that if he strayed, there was the chance that he was going to end up… in a not nice position. One might even call it a bad position to be in.

For that reason alone he was treating this with much more respect than he would have otherwise shown for a puny little jungle like that he had seen on this world in his short time here.

As it was, he was having a great deal of fun guessing the variety of different ways that things could kill him as he kept use the pace.

Humming briefly to himself he was lost in his own world, reminiscing about the variety of deadly things on Catachan that would probably eat you alive if you gave them even an inch.

Or at the very least ensured that you died screaming in agony.

As for Lisa, she was glad for once that she was short. The way that all of these were designed was in order to catch out tall people. For someone of her height, she was naturally safe, what with her being as short as she was. Not exactly the best endorsement of being short but she was sure that the idea that you weren't going to be eaten alive by a giant plants was a positive for anyone out there.

As it was, there was a long path through what looked to be a path, or rather the path that they were on became increasingly set, there even being little bushes to mark the edges. Probably a safe zone of some kind where you could walk without worrying about being eaten alive by man eating plants?

Who knew.

She kept moving herself along, no need to stop and maybe invite the attention from the vines that hung overhead… vines that were moving in a way that was very clearly not natural.

Little undulating movements that shuffled them around the canopy, always just out of reach of her hands if she were to raise them and maybe try to touch it. Always just there… looking increasingly threatening.

Lisa decided that she wasn't going to… oh.

Was that a flying plant?

One that looked… cute, a little tendril in the shape of a drill that floated through their air propelled by what looked to be a large leaves that held it aloft… as the little tendrils generated the thrust perhaps?

Weapons - Designed to drill into the eye sockets

Okay power. That was enough.

Dammit.

Lisa watched as it speared its way through an innocent tree and emerge out the other side.

Because that wasn't terrifying at all.

Right.

Nope.

Lisa turned her face back to the front and was looking at what looked to be… a floating little grape vine?

It was floating along in the same way that the driller thing was, only this one had little opaque grapes that hung underneath it.

Just… what was that?

Small balls contain debilitating substance - Capable of killing - Capable of maiming - Ambush predator

"Hold up there. Don't go near that, it never ends well." Gazza said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Why not?"

"Anything that looks like it has something to give away for free is probably something that is going to kill you very painfully. Nothing's free on Catachan."

"If you hadn't noticed this isn't Catachan."

"I know… that's why it worries me. I don't know which ones can kill you and which ones can't." He said, shaking his head.

"Just stay behind me, if you get yourself killed, it's my head on the chopping block anyway. If I die here at least it's going to be less painful than dying on the the table." He said, flashing her a grin as he led the way forward, making sure that she was always within arms reach of his back.

At least he was walking in front of her now… even if he was walking so fast that she had to half jog to keep up.

Dammit Gazza, pay attention to the short people.

George12

Dec 22, 2016

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Threadmarks 072 Beginning of the End

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George12

OAMU

Dec 22, 2016

#621

"Ah, Lisa. There you are. Sorry for leaving you up there without saying anything but I needed to… design you know? Needed to just… do something you know?" Taylor said, a half-smile on her face.

The kind of smile that said you were inebriated rather than jovial.

Did Taylor make some super strong marijuana or something? Because that would be very worrying.

Very worrying indeed since it would probably killed Lisa if she breathed it in… anything that could get a Primarch high could get Lisa very low, like grave low.

"Don't worry about it Lisa. Thing's aren't as bad as you think it is." Taylor said, in a really really bad attempt at calming Lisa down.

"Drugs, Taylor?" Lisa asked, just in case.

"Drugs? No no. I don't do that Lisa. Seriously, I know my limits."

"Then why do you look like you are half high right now?"

"I do? Oh, I do." Taylor muttered after she used her powers to… summon a mirror. Talk about casual use of power.

"It's probably because I'm just a little tired you know, creating an entirely new species of plants, creating a minion army, you know. Just little things you know?"

"No Taylor… no, I don't know. Why don't you explain it to me while we're sitting over here hmmm?" Lisa said, shooing her hand at Gazza to do his big Catachan thing and moving the Primarch somewhere she could sit down instead of collapsing into a big pile at the end of her little fugue.

"Ok Lisa. You see! I have decided… that I was really naive Lisa. Really naive, the kind of naive that that got a lot of men killed you know? I… I thought that there was a chance that we could do this peacefully you know? But then… then they went too far, Lisa. They went too far." Taylor said, her voice hardening as she spoke.

The half-dazed Primarch was still there but she looked infinitely more dangerous, the way her expression was set into a half delirious killing rage.

The terrible thing being that Taylor being a psyker was able to influence her surroundings with strong enough emotions. Which meant for Lisa that she had to take a step backwards to avoid the way that all of the grass beneath her rose up to form a thorny briar patch that resembled some kind of defensive fortification rather than a plant.

"Taylor… breathe for me won't you?" Lisa called out, a little bravely in her opinion. An out of control psyker was one that could end you in an instant for looking in the wrong place at the wrong time if what she had heard was any indication.

"Sorry Lisa. It's just hard to keep myself under control after I heard the news you know." Taylor muttered as the thorns receded and the vines simply sank back down into the earth back into grass.

"What did you hear Taylor?" Lisa asked, her mind whirring with the implications. Did she hear about the latest mass bombing?

"Here." She said, a portal opening just in front of her chest. Putting out her arms to receive what was on the other side, Lisa was shocked to see the same report that had been on her desk not 2 hours earlier.

"Taylor?" Lisa called, dragging the name out just a little, "do you make a habit of reading the reports on my desk?" Lisa asked, sounding a little worried.

"I read everything Lisa, my children are spread throughout the entire world you know. It's taken me a little while to get this perfect but now that it is, I can see everything Lisa. Everything… that is near a plant that is.

"Plant scrying Taylor?"

"No no. Something just a slightly different. I've infected every plant with my spores which overwrite a piece of their DNA and allow me to read what it is that's inside." She said.

"So plant brainwashing." Lisa said, a little chuckle on her lips. A defensive mechanism for the conversation that she knew as happening next.

"Laugh all you want, it works," Taylor muttered defensively.

"Okay Taylor, you've read the report. Now, what?" Lisa asked, honestly a bit curious.

"They've gone too far, Lisa. I was already struggling to justify the way that my men were dying. But now? Now they gone too far and they need to be dealt with Lisa." Taylor said, her voice back to being serious again.

"Right," Lisa muttered, her voice saying some very bad things about the very stupid little Terrorists behind their backs.

"How many incidents like this have their been Lisa?" Her Primarch asked, her tone of voice allowing no dissension.

"8 in total, 3 in the last month," Lisa muttered.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you keep it a secret from me? Did you think that I wouldn't be able to do my job?" Taylor asked, her voice accusatory.

"Honestly Taylor? Yes. You decided on a course of action but you were always second guessing yourself. Your plan was the best one for you, but you kept trying to find flaws, you couldn't accept that it was going to work and when it came down to it... we couldn't be sure that you wouldn't abandon the plan when you heard the news." Lisa said, her voice deadly serious.

"So you're saying you couldn't trust me?"

"No. I'm saying that you are too nice for your own good and if you had heard the news you might have tried to pull us out, ruining all of our work and dooming millions of people because of your conscience," Lisa said.

"But…"

"No Taylor. [Lisa walked up to Taylor at that, putting her arms around her in a tight hug], your conscience is what keeps us on the right path Taylor. But you need to understand that sometimes we do things and… and they are really bad things, the kinds of things that would see us go to hell. We need someone there to keep us on this side of the line. Keep being idealistic while we do the dirty work hmmm?" Lisa muttered.

Bad things indeed.

"That's a really bad excuse, Lisa."

"I know, but it's the only one we have."

"Why?"

"Trying to say we're doing this for the future of humanity is bullshit, Taylor, you might be doing it for that, but we're here to just make this as easy on you as possible. We're here for you and nobody else, it's just that simple. I'm a mediator between the more extreme ideas that the others have, but compared to you I'm still extreme as they come. For them, they are perfectly happy just glassing the entirety of South America, the only reason they haven't is because of you Taylor. The soldiers might be adapting into the culture, but they don't call the shots Taylor.

"But we need to balance that out, we can't let you know some things since some things just need to be done," Lisa said, shaking her head slightly.

"What kind of things need to be done that lets children die! They mastered a child to carry a bomb into a school Lisa! Why can't we do anything about it! We have the numbers, we have the technology, we have the superiority! Why don't we do anything about it!?" Taylor shouted, breaking free of the hug and stomping about the little clearing.

"We aren't allowed to use the more extreme methods Taylor, you ordered it remember?"

"Then this is my fault!?"

"No. It's the fault of the sick bastards who decided to do this in the first place."

"Then what are we doing? We could be sending more men to the schools to protect them for example."

"We aren't doing anything Taylor."

"I know we aren't doing anything. I'm asking WHY!"

"Remember when I said we do bad things, Taylor? This is one of those things. We are doing this with a non retaliation strategy. It means that we need to rely on public opinion to turn against them, to give them up, to ensure that they can never build another safehouse or find another soldier for their cause, driving them into the open. To do that… to do that we need to let them continue Taylor.

"A few more schools. A few schools more and they will be left in the open for us to crush them in one swoop. To save the many… we need to sacrifice the few." Lisa breathed out. Sobbing slightly. She was 17, why the hell was she being called to make these decisions?

She felt arms encircle her.

Looking up she could see Taylor looking down on her with sadness in her eyes.

"I know. I worked it out on my own, I'm not an idiot you know. I know Lisa. I… I didn't know that my little things were hurting you so much." Lisa let herself surrender into the hug for a moment.

"They're trying to provoke a reaction Lisa. I know that, they know that. It's just too bad that I've discovered my limit Lisa. Just how far I'm willing to go for my idea of… a peaceful resolution. There was a line and now it's been crossed as they say." She said, her eyes sad.

"What do you mean?"

"I've decided that enough is enough Lisa. I'm not going to allow them to do whatever it is that they want anymore. They've been pushing and the Guard is holding itself back because of me. No more Lisa. No more.

"If they want to start an all out war, then I will indulge them. If they want to start targeting children directly, on purpose... then they've decided that I don't need to be… merciful anymore. As the Guardsmen put it. The kid gloves are coming off and I've decided that the Princess is going to be stepping on the field. No more trying to do this peacefully Lisa. No more trying to hide away, no more trying to… be nice." Taylor said, pressing her forehead to Lisa's, eyes boring into Lisa's own.

"How are you going to do that Taylor? Didn't you want to stop the Guard because they were going to cause too much collateral damage? They don't exactly do subtle Taylor." Lisa asked, raising an eyebrow… which at this close of a range it wasn't nearly as effective as she thought it would be. Perhaps next time she would try to maybe pull the head back just a little.

"I'm not letting the Guard loose Lisa. They are still as dangerous now as they were when I first gave the order. This calls for something with a little more precision Lisa, something that needs to be handled a little more… accurately.

"I've spent the last few weeks in here trying to get this working and I think that I've finally been able to perfect it." She said smiling softly at Lisa, pulling her head back and walking over to the edge of the clearing where her hands moved… in a way that felt like it was pulling power from somewhere.

"Say hello to my little… army." Taylor said, continuing smiling as from around her emerged her emerged the little plant things that Lisa had seen on the way here… and many more.

Just what was all of this meant to be doing?

"I can see the world, Lisa. I can tell where each of them are, I can see into their souls. I am here, I am there, I am everywhere that my plants are Lisa. I can see it all. Each and every one of them, the innocent, the guilty, the stupid… all of them.

"I can see and I've decided to do something about it Lisa," Taylor said, smiling as the various little floating plants and the ones that were walking, the ones that were buzzing, sliding, anything that could count as locomotive force, moved around her like a small twister of plant matter.

"Why didn't you do anything before Taylor. Why the dramatic shift?"

Taylor turned to her, looking very very serious.

It's very simple Lisa.

It's because I'm selfish.

All the stuff about helping people?

It was partly that… but mostly it was because I'm selfish.

I am Taylor Hebert the girl from Earth Bet who was bullied… I am Taylor Hebert, Queen of the Everliving Forest, Master of the Treants, Primarch of the Emperor of Mankind.

I am more than human now Lisa. More than any human can possibly ever be.

I am a Primarch and with that comes the mind, comes the body, comes the soul.

I am no longer human Lisa.

I am Primarch.

But there is one last piece of me that is still human Lisa, my morality, the last piece of me that is from Earth Bet, that is me.

The pacifism?

An attempt to keep it safe, to keep that one last part of the girl from Earth Bet alive, safe.

I've tried to hold onto it, but the world is denying me, Lisa, I cannot… I cannot any longer.

So I'm embracing it then, embracing what I am, who I am.

Taylor Hebert, Primarch.

And I'll let go of Taylor Hebert, the girl from Earth Bet.

Thank you for being here, Lisa.

I would like someone to watch with me as I let go of the last human part of myself, watch as I become what I need to be.

I've read Perturabo's story and there is a strange sort of familiarity between me and him… it makes me feel better about what I'm about to do.

So this is a goodbye and a... greeting Lisa.

I am Taylor Hebert, Primarch of the Emperor, and I will do what needs to be done.

Then with a flourish of her hands, Taylor opened a portal and from it walked out a face that Lisa felt she should recognise.

"Say hello… to Nilbog."

George12

Dec 22, 2016

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Threadmarks 073 Beginning of the End

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George12

OAMU

Dec 23, 2016

#639

Lisa just stared at her Primarch.

Did I just hear that right? She asked herself, trying to check if her ears were working, or maybe some of the spores that were no doubt inside this massive biological hazard area had gotten into her head and made her hallucinate.

Because that was the only reasonable explanation.

Nilbog?

How?

It had been months since he had… existed. Had shown up only for Taylor to… throw him into a portal.

Oh.

Ooooh.

That's what had happened, wasn't it?

Taylor had just taken him and turned him into this… revenant kind of thing?

Because that was the only way that she could explain just why it was that he had such a… contented expression on his face.

Happy - Wants to be by Taylor's side - Devoted to Taylor - Ready to die for Taylor - Brainwashed - Mentally altered - Does not remember being Nilbog at all

Oh wow.

Okay, power.

Let's… let's just hold up here and like… pretend that nothing ever happened.

Because changing Lisa to something else… could be justified in that Taylor had no idea what she was doing and it had done nothing to her that would not have occurred anyway…

Or that is what she said to convince herself because it was a pretty big change and it was for the betterment of the world.

Woooah.

Lisa, let's not go down this rabbit hole again.

It's too late to change anything, and things are better this way… probably.

Regardless at least Lisa was able to keep her memories despite how… bad some of them were. It didn't matter, her memories were what made her what she was, change them and she might still be Lisa, but she wouldn't be Lisa.

The good with the bad, that was what she was.

Only… for Taylor to have just… remodelled Nilbog's mind into… into this puppet?

Taylor must have been very very annoyed at someone for that to have happened.

Lisa looked up at the girl-woman that was her Primarch and sighed.

"A little out of character aren't we?" Lisa asked, trying to not show any signs of fear. Taylor didn't need that right now, she needed her friends by her side, ready to lend an ear or a hand. If Lisa lashed out now, it might in some way crack Taylor… more than she already was and possibly even shatter her.

"It is what is needed, Lisa. I… I didn't want to do this. But if I had left things as they were, he would have never found redemption, the problem would continue to be a problem, and in the end, we would be back here in the same spot, with more problems heading our way." Taylor said, smiling a little sadly.

"And what of his original self?" Lisa asked, raising her eyebrow.

"He still exists, I've locked him inside a Cerebral Cogitator that I borrowed from the Mechanicus. He will be able to watch, but never to interact. A prison for him." Taylor said, leaving out when exactly she was thinking that she could release the poor man. That and what was it he was supposed to watch? The insides of a skull?

"And what did you need Nilbog for Taylor? Don't you have control of your own plants? Couldn't you just grow some to act like what you needed them to do?" Lisa asked, walking over to the still Nilbog who looked more like a puppy than a grown man. He was just smiling and nodding and just… creepy.

It was ridiculously creepy.

She hoped that this wasn't what she looked like when next to Taylor.

"He has an instinctive understanding of biology that I could never hope to come close to without absurd amounts of practice Lisa. I needed something that would be immediately available and so I got his help for it. He can do whatever he wants to anything that is biomatter Lisa, he's similar to me but on the level of flesh." Taylor said, smiling gently at the slightly (really) horrified Lisa.

"All of those minions of his?" She asked, knowing the answer already.

"Yes. All of them were actual people at one point or another." Taylor said simply.

"Okay. Too much information. So what are you planning to do Taylor?"

"What I should have done when this all started Lisa. When I got this power. If the world doesn't want to heel, then I will have to show them why it should.

"This is more important than what they want, more important than anything else. We need to come together before more innocents are lost. I'm not going to be responsible for more schools Lisa.

"No more," Taylor said, turning and walking out of the clearing, Lisa following along hurriedly as she did so, making sure to keep close before the jungle once again closed around her and probably killed her… or ate her alive.

"And just what is doing here?" Lisa asked, panting a little as she jogged after her Primarch, the soft footfalls to her right telling her that Gazza was on his way as well.

"My own little army Lisa. One that was grown and designed just to fill my needs. One that is the opposite that of the Guard, one that is a needle compared to the hammer."

Lisa didn't bother saying anything at that. Her Primarch was moving too damned fast and she was trying to keep up as best as she could, not exactly the easiest thing to do when one step of Taylor's was 2 of her own. Something made even worse since Taylor was power walking.

Suddenly it felt as if she was floating in the air.

Lisa looked up and saw Gazza's back just above her face… she had been picked up and… she was being carried over his shoulder. Where was her damned Princess carry? Even a fireman's carry would have been better than this.

Did he just not give a damn about a woman's sense of pride.

Bastard.

"Comeon Lisa, you need to hurry up, we are deploying them tonight you know and I can't inspect the troops in time if you keep dawdling you know!" Taylor called out, voice muffled by Gazza's body.

Lisa vowed horrible pain on the Primarch. Too damned cheerful.

They kept moving, they kept going and Lisa was beginning to feel like a sack of flour… or potato starch… why potato starch?

Regardless it was annoying and here she was.

Okay.

Down we go.

We've stopped, why am I still up here?

Gazza?

Lisa punched him in the side and he finally pulled over over and set her down in front of what looked like an actual legitimate army.

If you considered things about knee height to be an army.

"What is this Taylor?" Lisa asked, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

This was not what she had in mind when she thought of army… this was also not what she had in mind when she considered a sane Primarch. Thinking back to Magnus, Lisa shuddered briefly and vowed that she would do whatever was possible to ensure that Taylor didn't end up the same way as Magnus did.

"This is the second wave of the assault Lisa, they're going to land and then grow out to let the third wave through," Taylor said, smiling widely as she gestured at her legions of kill-plant/bots.

"Taylor. I have no idea what these are. Why don't you start at the beginning… like why you needed Nilbog for this." Lisa said, trying to keep her Primarch on track.

"Well, you see… Nilbog is able to create living creatures with their own brains… and their own souls. My plants… they don't have brains, they had engrams which over time can develop a soul… but it's a high restricted one because of the conditions that their birth went through. They can't ever develop past a certain point, I've been researching it and haven't found a way to do it properly. So I decided that since I wanted this done now… that I would cheat." Taylor said, pacing in a circle.

"I don't have the time to do this on my own Lisa, I needed an edge, and now I have one. Nilbog has been able to synthesise part of my own designs along with his to create something that is from both worlds." Taylor said, walking over to one of the little… stumps… and picking it up.

Bringing it back over to Lisa she began to explain further.

"It has the characteristics of a plant as you can see, but it also has a brain inside of it that is made from plant matter, which will allow for it to make decisions on its own and to also make sure that it will be able to channel Warp Energy in… different ways than my Guardians. They can only do the same thing over and over, but this little cutie here will be able to think for itself in a limited way and to adapt to the situation.

"Nilbog designed it and I just copied it from there," Taylor said, beaming at Lisa.

Lisa on the other hand, was still shuddering over the way Taylor had cooed at the… stump with the sharp tendril legs/roots and that… ugh. Now that she knew there was a brain inside of it…

Lisa was having a hard time not giving it a face of some kind and that was just next level creepy.

She was going to need to have a talk with Taylor, as in she really needed to have a talk with Taylor because this was just… really bad.

She was going off the deep end here.

"What is it going to do?" Lisa asked.

"That's a surprise!" Taylor declared, dropping it back down.

Lisa on the other hand, was having a hard time controlling her stomach's churning as she watched it scurry back to its original spot in the formation.

"Follow me!" Taylor declared, walking along the edges of the formation, one that was becoming increasingly obvious to Lisa that contained within it thousands upon thousands of plants.

So many of them in fact that she could not actually see the end of it… which should not have been possible.

In fact, she knew that it shouldn't have been possible since this was underground and she had seen the schematics of this place, she had helped design it.

Just what the hell was Taylor doing… and how much did Lisa need to invest in contingency plans?

Something to think about, that was for sure.

They walked on past the little stumps, past what looked to be little flower things… that disturbingly turned to track her as she walked past, past what looked to be little holes in the ground with a single sprout from the head, past yet more bizarre creatures, more and more of them.

Half an hour of walking and they reached the destination, only made obvious by the fact that Taylor had stopped.

It was another clearing, this one was just a bit smaller than that which Lisa had met Taylor, inside of it having… rectangular boards made of vines and branches compressed together.

Lisa pondered for a second before wondering… why didn't Taylor just get some screens from surplus? It wasn't like there were a shortage of the damned things, Lisa had something like 4 of them in her office.

"This is the operations room where we will be able to watch everything," Taylor said, waving her hand at Lisa.

For her part, Lisa was wondering what… oh. A chair.

That was nice.

Taylor certainly knew how to be nice once she wasn't going crazy and building an army with Nilbog as her chief scientist.

"The first wave is going to be launching soon. We don't have time to tour all of it so I'll just give a commentary as it happens." Taylor said, waving her hands in the air, the screens coming to life.

Holographic plants.

Lisa knew she had seen it all now…

"I'm going to be killing people now, of my own volition without anyone trying to convince me or otherwise. Their deaths are on my hands and there is no way for me to lie to myself that they are not of my own volition. Goodbye Earth Bet me, hello... not Earth Bet me.

"...

"No time like the present then isn't it?"

Lisa shook her head and settled in, she wasn't going to say anything. It was going to be a long night that was for sure.

She looked to the left and nodded at Nilbog... who was making a flesh golem.

Okay.

Back to looking at the screens.

George12

Dec 23, 2016

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Threadmarks 074 Beginning of the End

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George12

OAMU

Dec 23, 2016

#640

They came in the middle of the night. From high above the skies of the world around them, they came down from portals of swirling purple and other colours that were in no way as easily defined.

Out of these, they emerged. What looked to be… seeds.

Just small little seeds, the largest of which was no larger in size than the of a dainty hand's thumb. The little pods dropping like hail to land wherever it was that that portals had dropped them.

Some had been blown off course by the wind, their weight being less than that of ping pong ball naturally meaning that they were not exactly the densest of objects, some missing their mark by more than a hundred meters.

Not that it mattered, no, they were merely the vanguard, the first of the Princess' troops that were being deposited on the surface of her world.

These would absorb the ambient energy of the Warp and in turn, sprout, turning into little dishes of a kind, sprouting flowers that looked very very similar to that of a radar array, spinning about and searching for the signatures that had been imprinted inside of their very core.

They had no soul but that mattered not, a simple engram was enough to replicate a soul, to give it a rudimentary programming, to give it instructions and to have it carry out a preset action plan.

Not the most sophisticated thing that the Princess had ever done, but for a disposable drone this was more than enough.

What came next was certainly going to be grabbing attention from those in the area. Assuming that they could see it of course.

These portals were directly over that of the signatures that had been detected by each of the radar plants, them acting as beacons for the exact coordinates, working off the rough system that the Princess had put in place weeks earlier.

These ones dropped down onto the surface of whatever it was underneath them, whether it be plant, Hab Block, earth, or bunker, their drill-like designs cutting through the air and entrenching themselves in an instant.

It was then that the next stage of the plan unfolded.

These unfurled their drill-like roots and spread them deep into the earth, or in the case of those on the Hab Blocks, into the vents and tunnels that allowed for them free reign of the structure below.

Down and down, always in communication with their predecessors for the exact location of each of their targets.

For those inside of hardened sites like bunkers and the like, they acted to find small chinks in the surface, imperfections, cracks, fault-lines, anything of the sort, then digging in before expanding and contracting, expanding and contracting, digging their way through, replacing concrete, brick and mortar with their own flesh. Doing in minutes what conventional plant life might have taken years or even decades to accomplish.

Worming their way further inward, further downward, the roots established themselves in the rooms that had no occupants, the next stage of the plan being the part where they were the most vulnerable.

To delays that is.

They would accomplish their mission, the rudimentary brain that existed inside of their trunks knew that much at least.

Once the room was covered by roots upon the inside, the next stage of the plan begun. That being their use of their own bodies to summon forth their own brethren on the other side.

The brain was not merely there to give them basic thought after all, but to give them psykic power, a way for them to them use it in a primitive manner, a manner which was almost akin to a sacrifice to the Ruinous Powers but instead they returned themselves to the Grove that their Mother had built for them.

Plant heaven.

Their sacrifices allowed for portals to come online, portals that would exist so long as their brains were intact back on the surface, a problem of no consequence given that they had worked very hard to ensure they were buried under the ground to prevent curious fauna from attempting to devour them. Only the toughest of leaves was exposed and that was laced with a sleeping drug, their Mother cared for them after all, they were innocent.

As it as, they would then be rendered comatose by the activation of the portals, their roots forming the pattern needed for the summoning, before finally drying and leaving their still alive bodies to power the portal itself, their souls torn and left in limbo before the call dragged them back to their bodies.

As for what happened next, it was a simple matter of the next stage of the plan coming into fruition.

The summoning of the Princess' footsoldiers.

They were not exactly… animals… nor were they plants.

No, these were something that resembled both, humanoid like creatures that had roughly the same shape as that of a human, but if one were to take a closer look it would begin to increasingly look out of place.

The way that the arms were too long, the way the legs were too thin, the waist unnaturally rectangular in shape, the misshapen head, the too broad shoulders. The proportions were all wrong in that insidious manner of similarity, but that mattered not.

For them, it was the simple question of whether or not they could walk, since if they could, they could accomplish their mission.

These too were linked to that of the Radar, of being able to know exactly where it was that their targets were and knowing just what they needed to do to accomplish their objectives. Like Tyranids more than people despite the brains in their chests.

Each had a preprogrammed set of responses, set to trigger when they were in range of their targets, or when there was sufficient stimuli to trigger them.

Examples being of course, locked doors, being shot at and more.

The Princess had planned for everything and in time they would ensure that all those that had wronged her would be punished appropriately.

Forgiveness did not exist in their vocabulary, the Princess had forgotten to program that in sadly enough.

There were more screams.

He heard them and he prayed to his God, apologising for not trying to save them, apologising for being weak, apologising for not being enough.

He had been there.

He had seen them.

He had heard the screams.

He had run.

He had run as far as he could as fast as he could.

He had gone to the ends of the underground base itself, hiding himself inside the vehicle bay alongside several others… or rather many others.

Lots of others.

Dozens of them.

They were all holding in their hands various different weapons, rifles, machetes, pistols, shotguns… even a few grenades.

It… it was all they had and they were going to be damned if they didn't try to survive.

"Why aren't we just fucking leaving!" Came a shout to his left.

Idiot.

"Look at the doors you idiot." Growled one of the professionals. He had been a mercenary that the boss had hired.

"Are those… roots?" He whimpered.

"Yes, they are. The Princess wants us dead, I don't know which fuck told her where we are, but we aren't getting out of this one through the front door. Sit down, shut up and get ready to kill something." Said the growler.

Santos had his own pistol in hand, barely 2 spare magazines in his pockets. He wasn't going to be getting out of this one he was sure.

There was no way that things would be that easy, he could still see their faces now.

No.

He was going to die… going to…

Then… then he was going to…

No.

Don't think like that.

Santos berated himself, things were bad enough without him descending into a quivering wreck of a man.

There.

The shuffling. The way they sounded as if they were all just one body, just moving at the same speed, at the same rate.

Just shuffling forward like some geriatrics.

Just forward.

Always forward.

He raised his pistol, he could see the shadows flickering in the darkness, the way the world just looked… evil.

Just waiting.

The passageways of the bunker, built during World War 2 were lit by ancient fluorescent lamps. They were flickering, the… things… had hit the generator room.

They were running on backup power for now, it would last them… but for how long Santos didn't know. Very soon they would have no power and they would be fighting in the darkness.

His hands filled with sweat at the thought of what was about to happen. He knew what it was going to be like, he had seen it first hand.

There.

He could see the shadows.

They were coming. Little shambling things.

They looked less human and more like… what would happen if someone was caught trying to pretend to be human. The way they shambled, the way they… the way they just existed.

He had seen them once.

Then he had run.

He had run as far away as he could, run as fast as he could.

They were coming.

"Grenades!" Came the shout.

They were in an open area, it should be safer here to use the grenades without worrying about the overpressure killing them.

Or so he had been told, how accurate it was, he had no idea.

There was the sound of the pins being pulled, the sound of the explosions, the sounds of flesh splattering the walls.

It wouldn't be enough he knew, if it was they wouldn't be here in the first place.

They were coming. They were going to keep coming.

"Where is our magic man!?"

"Working on it!" The cape shouted, he had been sent here from Europe to help them, he had abilities that would be able to assist them in their war they had been told.

Just how useful he was they didn't know. He had only been here a week, he would have been shipped out the day after tomorrow… but it looked like he was going to die here with them.

The portal he came in was one way… otherwise, they might have all escaped.

Maybe not die. Maybe… maybe just turned into whatever it was that they were.

He sighed.

He waited.

He didn't want to die but it looked like he was going to.

There.

He could see them now. They just walked forward. Never running. Always walking. Never stopping.

They looked like people… like people that had plants sprouting from their chests, from their arms, covered in vines. Some of them even had faces that he could see, faces of people he had known.

They were dead now, their eyes dull, their faces cleared of all emotion.

They didn't even look like proper people anymore, some had tendrils that stretched to the ground, dragging on the floor. Others still had arms and legs that were twisted into some kind of horror out of this world, as if from the depths of hell there had been some kind of beast that had been summoned into their bodies.

They were gone. They weren't going to be coming back, he knew that now.

Only for the first wave to stop, their legs sinking into the ground. It looked like the magic man was able to actually slow them down. He would have to thank the man later when he wasn't dead.

Or something.

They sank, all the way down.

Only that didn't stop them, the ones behind kept coming, themselves sinking into the liquid cement.

All the way down.

Their heads sank down, all the way down.

Their bodies gone… only for the ones behind to move in, more and more of them walking forward, more and more and more them sinking down.

Then it was over… there were too many of them, clogging the hole, they kept coming.

Stepping on the bodies of those underneath, just walking.

Coming and coming.

Some of their number tried to come forward, swinging their knives, their machetes.

For it to not work.

For it to do nothing, they just regrew their lost body parts, just healing wounds.

Then they attacked, hands spearing out to stab into the flesh of those closest to them… their bodies bent over, convulsing.

Screaming.

Always with the screaming.

And then they grew plants, more of them, bits coming out of their arms and legs.

Their bodies quivering on the ground before they too stood up and began to shamble forward, their eyes empty

They were gone now…

Gunfire ripped through them, arms torn apart, bodies mutilated, their legs shredded.

Only for them to heal again, to continue the march forward.

Ever forward.

Arms spearing out, grotesquely elongating, through flesh and through steel.

Forcefully converting those amidst their ranks.

The screams.

Always the screams.

Santos wondered if it would be better if he just shot himself in the head and got it over with.

Better to die a human than be made into… those.

George12

Dec 23, 2016

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Threadmarks 075 Middle of the End

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George12

OAMU

Dec 26, 2016

#663

A straight run to the end from here. 2 more updates and the thread can be considered as "story complete". After that it's mainly sides to flesh out the characters, if you have requests send them now. After I'm done with the story, it's highly unlikely that I'm going to return to it.

The camera was decidedly shaky today.

The kind of camera that reported on the news, that called the shots, that told the people that were watching just what was going on accompanied by the voice of the reporter on the ground.

Here.

Here it was showing something that was unforgettable by all those that watched it.

At home, overseas, everywhere that there was a human eyeball, the images were being transmitted out from all over South America.

Liveleak was exploding with activity, PHO was going mad as the Princess (who else could it be?) did something… again. The local news channels were reporting live, the camera crews running through bank after bank of tape, the amateur crews on the ground getting the scoop of their lives, the world simply watching with jaws wide open.

What was happening… was something that reminded them perhaps, that the Princess was a Primarch, that despite her stance on the way the world should work, that she was very much a daughter of the most powerful being in His own universe.

Even now more and more footage was filling the airstreams, the sights on it being the only thing that the world could talk about.

It was after all the most horrifying thing that many of them had ever seen, showing up on the screens in public glory.

Officer Ramirez of the South American Local Law Enforcement, SALLE for short, had been standing outside of his dispatch car. Ready to head off into the unknown world of civilian disturbances where a wife might cut off a husband's hand for cheating on her, or a random civilian might decide today was a perfectly good day to just try and fly… from the top floor of a Hab Block or maybe that just maybe... it would be something interesting to try 10 kilograms of cocaine and then die in horrible fashion.

It was the little things and he had been doing this job for the last 20 years. When the Princess took over he had received an offer to keep doing his job, apparently he was corruption free enough to pass their little test as he found out later. He wasn't quite sure how they figured that one out, he had taken more than his fair share of bribes… but they probably weren't that bad compared to the rest.

Regardless, he accepted, it was all that he knew. Asking him to do anything else was like asking to teach an old dog new tricks, sure it was possible but it was so much more effort than it was worth.

It wasn't like policing changed very much, sure he got a stun baton and what they called a stubber (a pistol), and body armour, but that was pretty much it. Just keep walking his rounds and doing his job, nothing more. Nothing less.

Oh.

That and his floating car. Because that was one of the perks of the job, let him fly up and down as needed into reach Hab Block floor (they all had little docks) without needed to climb the stairs.

Perfect little tool he decided, one that was designed for the police. Even if the army stole it and used it to kill people. Hover anything was good, maybe he could get a hover recliner one of these days.

He was drinking his daily coffee, the one he drank every day at 8pm, right in the middle of his patrol in his break to keep himself awake.

There were Arbites in the headquarters and the like, but it was the grunts like him that did a majority of the patrols.

Made perfect sense really. It wasn't like there was going to be some kind of criminal syndicate behind each and every little patrol. Sure they found the terrorists and put them behind bars… before the psykers and Arbites had their way with them, but they were terrorists, who cared about their physical well being. Should have thought of that before you decided to blow up an orphanage you stupid fucks.

Even the Princess wasn't going to be sitting back at that level of provocation.

Ramirez shook his head as he considered just how stupid some people were. Sure he had a few near misses when a bomb went off right where his balls had been a few seconds earlier, but it wasn't like they were trying to aim for him personally. They were trying to fight for what they thought was freedom, it was kind of stupid, what with their freedom mainly being the right to have failures for government to be put back in charge, but hey, that was what they wanted to do and they were prepared to die for it.

Ramirez respected that, even if he thought they were complete idiots for it.

It was part of what made you human, if they wanted to die for their cause, then Ramirez was going to shoot them for being complete idiots.

The cycle of life.

He had seen the reports on the news last week, she was going to be doing something now he was sure.

As he dropped the empty cup into the little holder that was on the left hand side of the seat, Ramirez turned to the rookie that had been assigned to tag along with him while his usual partner was sick.

Waving at the kid, Ramirez was about to get back inside only for the kid to pull out his pistol, pointing at the air behind Ramirez.

He naturally ducked down and turned, his own pistol already in his hands.

Another thing that had changed under the Princess, drills… constant drills to turn them into little automatic killing machines he assumed.

Whipping it out, Ramirez could see what looked to be… lights on. Lots of them. The entire Hab Block behind him was ablaze in lights.

He wasn't sure what had the rookie looking so scared but then he saw it, on the 9th floor, silhouetted against the light was the figure of what looked to be a person that had been stabbed through the chest.

Well fuck.

That was a very big knife.

Shaking his head, Ramirez gestured for the kid to follow him, it looked like they were going to be playing domestic-violence-breakup-crew-people-thing.

After he called for an ambulance of course, and called it in. If this was an ambush and he was killed, he certainly wanted there to be the hammer of God himself smashing home into their skulls.

After that… after that they were going to be taking the car to the floor, moving in and then knocking on the door like perfectly decent human beings.

Despite the fact that there was someone up there with a knife the size of his leg.

Or maybe it was a little worse. He didn't know… should call in backup actually.

Dammit he was getting too old for this.

Ramirez moved forward, his pistol in his hands, the flashlight held in his other hand, resting underneath the pistol. It wasn't actually dark, but sometimes smacking people in the face with a giant stick was just as good as when he didn't want to actually kill anyone.

That and the shock baton was bloody huge and he didn't want to go around smacking people with the damned thing since it meant he couldn't aim his pistol correctly.

He wasn't going up against a sword wielding lunatic without some kind of preparation.

He and the rookie were moving through the Hab Block, this particular floor that is. It was pretty damned big, like all of them, but this one seemed to be bigger than usual. The way the lights just bounced off the walls, throwing them into sharp relief. The designers having never heard of anything except bright white lights.

That and the fact that there was nobody here.

That also played a large role in how damned spooky this entire thing was.

As they stalked forward through the corridors, the absence of life making it something that screamed at them "don't go near here, you will die", the two of them were watching everything that could possibly be watched.

The roof, the ground, the wall, the other wall, the doors, all of it potentially dangerous, they had seen too many horror movies to not know where this was going… that or everyone was inside and waiting it out.

Either or.

Ramirez didn't have that luxury and as they neared the site of the stabbing, he felt something twinge in his gut, the something that had got him out of many a situation before. Call it gut instinct, but he learnt to trust his gut.

Halting the kid he waited.

Standing with the pistol aimed down range, he made sure to make sure that there wasn't going to be any kind of crazy little wacko coming out of the wall or the doors.

He wanted to get out of this one alive thank you very much.

BANG

Ah, there we go.

Gunshots.

Or rather just one.

That was certainly worrying, he was going to need to check that one out… joy.

Cautiously walking forward, Ramirez made sure to point his pistol in the general direction of the room where the gunshot sounded from.

They made their way in, walking slowly, very very slowly.

They were still policemen at heart and they were moving with the classical policemen state of mind. The one that said that they were going to be doing this as close to the book as possible but also doing everything they could to get out of this one in one piece.

Which in this case meant waiting outside while the reinforcements made their way over.

No need to breach and die.

He waited.

They waited.

They all waited.

BANG

The door burst open and there was someone rushing out, legs stumbling over the floor, arms wobbling, head just swinging.

Looking like he was drunk or at least inebriated in some manner or another. A man on his last legs.

Head locking up, he spotted them, pulling himself over, stumbling, moaning, trying anything he could to get closer.

He groaned, his voice coming out in harsh pants.

"Help me. Please. You have to help me!" He moaned.

"What happened." The rookie asked, leaning down to help… that is he would have if Ramirez hadn't stopped him.

Too damned suspicious. Just who the hell was this guy and what the hell was he waiting inside that apartment for so long for?

"Keep your distance kid. I'm guessing we're looking at your shooter here." Ramirez said, pulling himself back until they were able to at least find something to work with here. The reports that they had been forced to read about two officers trying to help someone only for them to stab them in the face had been morbid and more to the point… a very loud warning about what would happen to them if they were too damned nice.

"It's coming. Please. Stop it." He cried out, his body shivering on the floor, his skin… convulsing. Underneath it, they could see what looked like little worms that were tunneling through the flesh, through the body, through the… everything. His skin was just bubbling up and down, like someone had just… loosened the skin and blowing air through it.

Trying very hard not to vomit, Ramirez pulled the kid back.

This was either a cape… or it was something much more insidious, better to just get the hell away and wait.

"Why aren't we helping him, Sarge?"

"Because there's something wrong with his body and I don't want to be close when it spills over kid." He muttered, pulling him back.

The man then started to scream… very loudly which told him all he needed to know about what was going to be happening and he was going to be as far away as possible. All of it was being recorded on his body cam so there wasn't going to be anyone asking why he didn't help.

He stopped moving body just shuddering occasionally before his skin started to contract in on itself, pulling the flesh taut, eating away at the flesh, sucking in the skin, tearing it and… producing what looked to be vines from the flesh?

What?

They curled around the body, covering it and changing its shape.

He looked on at the scene with undisguised horror, it looked… the Princess?

It was certainly in her colours.

She had a thing with plants didn't she?

The new… thing rose up on its feet and stared at the before shambling off back into the room.

Ramirez wasn't going to follow… he was going to make damn sure he had as much backup was physically possible before he went in.

Just a random note. 3 errors in 2000 words according to Grammarly. Broken my record. Yaaaaay.

George12

Dec 26, 2016

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Threadmarks 076 Middle of the End

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George12

OAMU

Dec 26, 2016

#664

In a day the Princess ended the resistance that was coming their way in South America. Resistance that had been supplies and orchestrated by unknown methods from those outside the continent itself.

They had been able to no doubt, use portals or some other kind of transit method that allowed for them to bypass the detection systems of the Mechanicus itself. No doubt some kind of folding technology or technique, one that somehow folded space perhaps?

Doubt then.

They had no idea how things were happening in the first place, the saboteurs able to simply get through without tripping off any alarms.

No matter, it was an ongoing problem, a more… concrete one was waiting for them.

The Princess in her… act of vengeance had decided to turn each and every one of the terrorists, or rather those she had deemed to be terrorists into what was essentially servitors… but made from flesh and plant instead of from flesh and machine.

They moved in a rather primitive fashion actually, worse than that of the Servitors that the Mechanicus used, but it was an admirable first effort. When Magnus came out of his little den, no doubt he would be impressed as well.

They had been taken by the Primarch and in a display of morbidity that had the Imperial members of the council nodding approvingly, had used them as trophies to tend to her garden underneath of Princess Base itself as well as that of Ellisburg.

Their shambling forms would exist forever, sustained by the energies of the Warp, their flesh preserved by the plant matter that surrounded them.

That they of the Council did not know, was that each of them was still present, that each of these servitors did not actually have their memories wiped. They could still see, they could hear, they could feel but they could not scream, could not cry, their faces forever frozen. They would continue to live with their punishment until the Princess deemed that they had served their sentence well and allowed for them to be wholly consumed, the flesh turned into plant matter, growing roots and settling down.

Until then they would be unable to do anything more than live their memories as what used to be their bodies went through the motions of being alive. Continuously just going through the motions, picking up this over here, picking up that over there, cutting the weeks, harvesting the fruits, every day, all day without fail.

Their lives a dull monotonous grind that consumed them.

The innocent, those that had been mastered or forced into it were allowed to die the moment they were consumed. For everyone else? The Princess still had a task for them to do, part of her grand plan.

As for the Princess, she had harvested their memories and browsed them as if she might browse a book in a library. Her own mind already used to the very same method, it being the very same method by which she controlled her plants, allowing for them to feed her information.

It was here that she discovered something that very much made her question her earlier insistence of peace. Exactly why it was that she had deemed all humans were in some way redeemable, that they were not monsters clad in human flesh.

She had called out them for Lisa and the Council to attend her.

She did not listen to their words, their carefully phrased questions, their opinions, for hers had been made.

It had been made the moment that she had taken the very last piece of what used to be Taylor Hebert, the girl from Earth Bet and waved her goodbye.

She was now Taylor Hebert, Primarch of the Imperium of Man, she was no longer torn between two halves of herself, that of her previous self's conscience, and that of her own Primarch self's much more pragmatic mind.

Taylor Hebert of Earth Bet had been placed inside a humanoid plant in the middle of her garden in a dormant state, there could be no chance of her coming back and forcing her to be… merciful.

In shedding the past, she had become something else and she was not sure if it was a good thing… but no matter.

She had problems to solve, she could wonder about her tattered psyche at a later date.

Those that were a threat were to be eliminated. Those that were a potential threat were to be eliminated.

Those that could in some way prove to be related to the threats were to be eliminated.

They would spare the children, they would be placed in the Scholas where they would learn to abhor and despise what their parents, what their relatives had been. In doing so the last of their ideological line would die, choked in the cradle.

For this she would not use her plants, no, something more subtle was needed.

She did not wish for the world to know just yet that all of their lives were in her palm to do with as she wished. It would only unsettle and worry them to know that their lives were no longer their own. That she was Primarch, that she had given up the last vestiges of her humanity.

Or so she thought.

There were still pangs of conscience that desired a way to end this without the loss, without the deliberate pain.

Yet it was the ramblings of a human that had been raised as weak.

Although… she did like it when Danny her human father hugged her… but that was of no concern.

She had excised the weakness… yet… yet ghosts of herself remained. She could not submit herself to a mind wipe, she was too valuable for that. She would put up with it… for now.

Those that opposed her would be felled and in falling they would demonstrate to the world exactly why it was that she was… actually... no.

It would be after they fell and she revealed to the world that it was her all along that the world would know that it had been her hand behind all of it, that she had been responsible for their deaths, that nobody was safe.

As it was now… well, they were going to be dealt with by the Callidus Assassins, by the Vindicare assassins (using local equipment of course), and small numbers of the other assassinatorum temples. The Imperium would have its revenge and Taylor would no longer stand in its way, there was a world to save and she did not have the time to moralize anymore.

Her actions had cost lives and had been extremely inefficient.

It was time to do this properly.

Perhaps make up for what she had done.

BG921 was ready and the target had been selected.

It was a target that BF921 was familiar with.

Human, no body armour.

BF921 waited, the target was moving through the urban jungle and BF921 needed to be quiet lest BF921 alert the target.

BF921 also needed to find some way in which to blend into the local population, them being the largest factor which might give away BF921's cover.

They were unpredictable and unpredictable elements were always going to be the most dangerous to the integrity of a mission.

An element that needed to be avoided at all costs if BF921 wished to complete this mission in good order and return to base for further assignment.

BF921 did not know of a life outside of assignment, did not know any life at all besides assignment.

Creeping through the city rooftops, BF921 moved quickly and stealthily, the camo-cloak that had been requested for this mission performing its mission admirably as it prevented the sighting of BF921 by anything except the closest of eyes.

It was a good piece of equipment.

BF921 looked to the right, to the left and leapt over the roof, the bionics that had replaced BF921's body allowing BF921 to perform many tasks that would have been deemed impossible to replicate otherwise.

BF921 was a model assassin and BF921's body reflected that. Capable of entering and exiting a field of battle without ever once being discovered, not even after the target fell dead from an exit wound the size of BF921's thigh.

Weapon were ready, the enemy was ready, the target was ready. BF921 sighted. BF921 pulled the trigger.

The target had been eliminated.

Discarding the primitive weapon, BF921 exited the area, ready to return to base for further assignments.

Callidus Assassin Marie did not stalk, she did not run, she did not sneak. She was a Callidus Assassin and she killed with style.

There was no shoddy work for her, every single kill being the perfect one.

Unlike the others, she did have quite a bit of room to work with, what with her being perfect and all that noise. She knew that she was perfect, it made perfect sense.

She was a weapon of the Imperium and she had been honed to a cunning edge, as well as a cutting edge.

Her phase blade sadly had been left behind, what with the fact that she wouldn't need it for this mission, as well as the fact that if she did have it… it would stand out quite terribly against the dress that she had donned.

It was a very nice dress as well, the perfect kind of dress for the occasion. A maroon coloured gown that swept to the floor with slits on the sides for extended movement, it had a small tail at the end that just brushed the floor, her arms were covered in elbow length gloves that allowed the hiding of her very favourite knives, the kind that were monomolecular and could slice their way through flesh as if it were parchment. In fact, parchment often provided more of a resistance than that of flesh.

Something that was very interesting no doubt to certain… people.

The kind that would find the need to cut and stab their way through an entire crowd of people like those… barbarians.

No, she did things cleanly, and properly.

Without the need to worry about her little messes or whatever it was that she did… because she was a professional and there was no mess.

Walking about the party, she made sure to smile, to wave, but all the more, to keep an expression on her face that was equally attractive, but equally foreboding. She didn't want there to be any civilians who wanted to talk to her because they were just going to be delaying her.

No, it was best if she moved in quickly, moved in efficiently and made sure that everything that could possibly be a target and something for her to remove was removed from play.

Smiling and waving.

And there we go.

The target was as his mental checklist stated he would, was heading inside of his own office, ready and willing to take a break, a cigar, and then to head back out once he calmed himself down.

He was dead after all, he knew that. All of those around him with connections to the terrorists had been killed, he knew that he was next, but there was that faint glimmer of hope that, that wouldn't be the case.

That he somehow slipped the net.

He hadn't of course but in his mind, the possibility was there. And that possibility had him setting up this party, something to show the world that everything was okay, that he wasn't afraid, that he wasn't guilty.

He was.

Of course.

The Princess did not make mistakes when she assigned her targets.

She wandered down, and around. His office was situated in between two rooms, two rooms where there were guards stationed, waiting and ready for her.

It was too bad that they were only human.

Picking the lock on the door without actually making a noise, slipping in like a blur and then stabbing her stiletto heels into one's neck while her other snapped his partner's throat, she dropped them and continued on to the window.

From there it was a simple matter of swinging up onto the roof, killing the 3 guards and then dropping into the office directly, the monomolecular blades hidden in her gloves flung out, killing the two guards in the corners.

The target didn't even have time to gasp as she grabbed his pudgy chin and stabbed her last blade, this one hidden in the small of her back, into the underside and into the brain. A little wriggle, brainstem gone, brain sliced into 17 parts, and she was out.

Slipping down, stripping off the dress and revealing the skin tight shorts and shirt underneath, now she looked like a prostitute and not a femme fatale.

No one was going to find her now.

George12

Dec 26, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 26, 2016

#665

It was not merely those that were associated with the terrorists and the like that had been eliminated. Rather they had been destroyed personally by the Princess.

What happened next however was not a wave of destruction as had been meted out by the Princess, but rather at the behest of the Princess.

The Officio Assassinorum had been called in, the Princess requisitioning them with points long held in reserve, their objectives simple.

They would take out those leaders that stood in the way for the Princess' conquest of the world itself.

They would not activate now, but rather soon.

The enemies of the Princess were still in the woodwork and the Princess was giving them all one last chance, one last chance to facilitate her takeover of the world, to allow her to do so without any more bloodshed, and to provide their peoples with a familiar face when they woke up to an Imperium the next morning.

It was not as if she was asking for much in all honesty, her demands were reasonable, her needs few, her desires minimalist.

Merely their cooperation in accepting the inevitable.

This was unlike the other times that she had demanded cooperation, however, this was the time that the Princess had demonstrated just how capable she was and demonstrated to their faces just how foolish it would be if they were to continue rejecting her offers of peace, offers that had been given in good faith.

She was even allowing for them to keep their positions as small government underneath her own apparatus.

It was something that was impossible, unfortunately. They knew that.

They had thrown their lot in with their backers and were no trapped, there was no way out of this.

The only option left was to declare war, a war that they were going to wage against the most powerful force on the planet, but as to what exactly it was that they could do to the Imperium… it was not much, but with the combined might of the armies of the tentatively US of A, of Europe, of Asia, they would be able to simply crush the nascent Imperium with sheer force of numbers. It would be costly, but if they did this correctly then it was entirely possible for them to be victorious in this endeavour.

The first target was that of the Hive city of Africa, the one that the Princess had drawn the entire population of Africa into as it grew ever larger, large enough that it could be seen from the Moon (granted it was a little dot, but it was possible).

This was the least defended of the Princess' cities and if they destroyed it, then it was possible for them to move and destroy Madagascar Base to the East. Going by the ranges that the codexes and the like listed, they knew that they were out of the range of most of the artillery that the Princess possessed, something that would save them. As for the Deathstrike missiles and the heavier artillery, if they used that then the Hive city would be destroyed as well.

It was going to be a mission that was going to be the most… difficult logistical problem that they had ever faced. An invasion done entirely through the air, one that used capes, one that demanded absolute discipline from all involved. If they did not have it then they were going to be picked off before they reached the safe zone that was the outskirts of the city.

Their own spies had uncovered the Teleportarium deep inside the lower levels, themselves waiting and ready to storm the chamber and destroy it to prevent reinforcements from arriving.

Aircraft in the skies, tanks being loaded, capes ready to drop, fly or simply warp to the location, the armies were getting ready to push themselves forward now.

They had been recruited, or conscripted in some cases, the world was changing and the old order needed to change with it. There could be nothing that would stand in their way, there could be nothing that would allow for them to falter, not with the Princess before them. They were acts of inhumanity, but in this time who had the luxury to be human? Certainly not them, certainly not now.

The now that was before the Princess acted on her threats and ended them.

For now, the armies were still under their control, but how long before they too were subverted?

No, it had to be now and they were gambling everything on this. Destroy her cities, force her to engage them as she had done Nilbog and then take her out. She would be out here without the assistance of her Guard, alone… something that meant she would be vulnerable and could be destroyed.

Did not Angron nearly succumb before the Emperor teleported him onto his ship?

Was not Vulcan nearly defeated because of a Fire Drake?

Was not Mortarion brought low by mere gas?

The possibilities were endless. Kill her and the entire Imperial structure upon this world would fall apart, she was the only thing anchoring it together.

It had to be reiterated but it was a desperate plan, a plan that hinged on a great deal many ifs and buts but it was the only one that they had that could possibly work. An attack on Brockton was impossible, an attack on South America even more so with the amount of forces that had been deployed there… leaving Africa as their only option.

They were readying themselves.

Soon.

Soon they would march forward and take their world back.

Or so the soldiers thought, the truth being that they were going to war… again… for reasons that had nothing to do with their own. That of those who had their own agendas and were in charge, relying on their loyalty to do things that were morally reprehensible.

Regardless, they were ready.

Soon time would tell if Earth Bet had what it took to defeat a Primarch.

Slaughterhouse 9, or the Nine… or the 8, were inside of a town, village… abandoned housing.

They had killed the inhabitants and were feeling rather good about themselves, it was what they wanted… or rather what Jack wanted, the others were… not exactly the most stable of peoples in terms of mentality and… the everything else.

Magnus had prophesied that they would be a danger, or rather one man would be a danger to Taylor's plans and unless she eliminated him early or at least removed him from the playing board, then she was going to have a much harder time of her conquest of the world.

Or so was the general gist of the message as she understood it.

Taylor had thanked her Brother and got herself moving, tracking them to a small town all the way up just as it was beginning to snow.

It was here that they had done their work, played with the bodies, attempted the foul magics that saw the fusions of souls. Taylor would free them of course, it would be no trouble. Destruction of the soul was permanent after all.

As she appeared in front of them, walking out of the Warp, she immediately… did nothing.

For she was Primarch, and they were nothing but human.

True the Siberian might have been a threat… had she been able to actually reach out and touch her at all.

It was a simple matter to open the warp and have the woman fall into it, no doubt a concern… if she had a soul.

As she did not, then it was rather safe to assume that perhaps the Siberian was not in fact, an actual being.

Which was made rather obvious given that there were 8 souls in the vicinity and that the Siberian's disappearance did not blink one of them out. These 8 were special… compared to the rest in the area. Their victims… much less so, something would need to be done about them.

The Nine did not leave behind anything untouched and these souls had no distress, in fact, they were distinctly excited it would appear.

How every strange considered Taylor.

Perhaps they thought that they had a chance?

That would certainly explain their strange expressions, that of hope, of excitement, or interest, of curiosity.

Taylor felt that perhaps they would need just a little example of what she was going to be doing to them in order that they understand… that for them there was no hope.

They would not die as of yet as they were useful to the Primarch, their abilities that is, not the actual people. She did not need people, she needed weapons.

"Hello there Princess… it is so good of you to come. We've heard great things about you." Jack said, smiling at her, feeling a little… void where she should be but that was of no matter. He had never failed with his words before, it was not as if he would fail now.

Looking at them dispassionately, she clenched her fist and said her signature phrase.

GROW

And so it did, the ground rising up to surround them, the Eight unable to react so fast was the growth.

They stood there, helpless, staring at the Princess in front of them. A Princess that was in a distinctly unkind mood, her eyes staring at them with no concern as to their struggles. Even their powers were unable to do anything to save them for they were bound too tightly, too strongly. There was no leverage and even Crawler's acid did nothing, the vines were a vat in which to contain him.

She stood there and looked at them, her eyes merciless… indeed if Jack had to name an emotion in those orbs… it would be that of pity.

He knew that look, he knew it very well. She was going to be fucking with them and he wasn't going to let that happen.

He tried to struggle but there was nothing, he couldn't move his legs, he couldn't move his arms, he could not move anything. His entire body bound by those fucking plants.

It was then that she spoke again, and he found himself compelled to listen. A feeling that the others knew whenever Jack spoke, a soft sense of persuasion that crept into their minds, into their heads, it wormed its way in and they couldn't stop it. There was no way to put their hands over their ears, no way to tune it out.

She looked… she said.

"I have need of you."

Jack tried to say something, opening his mouth but there was nothing he could say.

A vine shoved itself down his throat, another covered his eyes.

"I have need of your bodies. I have no need of your minds." She continued, her voice dull, as if uncaring, as if she did not care.

Intolerable.

But he could do nothing. He could say nothing. He could see nothing. He… he could feel nothing?

What was going on?

Jack tried to open his eyes but there was nothing, it was as if he had no eyes to begin with.

He tried to move his body yet there was no response.

He tried to speak yet there was no mouth.

There was nothing, just… him. Just him… a disembodied head? A soul? A something?

He was just… what was he doing actually?

He just… he… he did not know.

"Hello, Jack."

"Good evening my Queen."

What.

He had not said anything, what was this? Why was he speaking… how was he speaking.

Master.

She had mastered him hadn't she.

He stared at her through holes… holes that were his eye sockets.

"You are… bad people… yet killing you would be more merciful than you deserve… yet letting you live is a crime in itself." She said, looking directly at Jack. Staring all the way into the eye sockets, all the way past and into him. She knew he was in here, she knew that he was stuck inside of this… this… this… limbo.

"Which is why you shall live. You shall live and know that you have no control, knowing that I own your bodies and your minds."

"Yes, Queen." His voice intoned, dull… lacking any signs of the life that he had.

Just… what… he growled at it, at the Princess but there was no sound.

He… he was sure that he had growled at her.

He was so very sure… yet… yet he had nothing.

Was he growling?

Could he growl?

He was forgetting how to move his body. How to do anything.

He had nothing.

Just… just sitting here and listening to her talk, watching through the eyes, unable to even know what the rest of the body was doing.

Jack… Jack despaired.

George12

Dec 26, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 26, 2016

#666

They had attacked as had been predicted, the armies of the unified world (that was not under the Princess' control) slamming their way into the Hive City that was Africa City.

For them it was a moment of truth, the moment when they were able to finally see just what it was that the world demanded of them, to see the magnitude of the enemy that they were facing.

It was in this that the Coalition as they had called themselves sought to crack open the city, breach its gates and destroy all that was inside of it that could possibly prove to be a threat before moving onto Madagascar Base itself.

That is unless the Princess herself showed up and they were given a prime opportunity to kill her. If that happened then she would die, and then they would continue with the original plan, a massive complication out of the way.

They were soldiers and the strategic stuff was left up to their superiors, they just knew that they had a target and that target was in dire need of some munitions.

They were ready, all of them were ready and they were willing to die to prevent the world from falling into the hands of the Princess.

By the order of their superior officers, the soldiers marched their way forward, there being fire coming from the city as expected, but the teleportarium had been destroyed and there wasn't going to be any reinforcements for the defenders. The lasers at the ranges they were at lost much of their coherency, something that allowed for them to be relatively safe as opposed to if they were right in front of it all.

It was a long walk, but it was a safe one, made safer in just a moment.

In fact, there wasn't going to be anything at all for the defenders to use against them, any minute now the cruise missiles were going to strike and destroy any signs of resistance, any possible defences, anything that might mean that they were capable of defending themselves.

The city was unable to do anything other than just fire off a few artillery shells, their arrival completely unexpected.

As expected.

Capes using their abilities to jam radar, to jam all electronic signals combined with the ECMs of the circling aircraft had denied them any ability to do anything at all. The Astropaths killed moments before the assault began by their saboteurs.

There was no smoke, the explosions on the walls of the city being the only sign that the missiles had been there at all… that and the sonic boom that shook the air as missile after missile slammed into the exterior balconies and walls of the city.

They were not holding anything back, the Imperial Guard needed their entire combined efforts to defeat and not doing that was only going to get them killed.

Artillery fire of every variety was making life no doubt a living hell for the defenders as the attackers advanced, the fire that was coming from the city being sporadic at best, non-existent at worse. The alpha strikes clearly having done their work.

As expected.

There were civilian inside so they had been warned of what was appropriate and what was not.

There was no shooting of civilians allowed, that was just a very bad idea when they were possibly very much outnumbered and the civilians were going to be very much at home with all the twisting tunnels and the like, able to ambush them at the slightest opportunity.

No, they were going to be doing this properly, make sure that they didn't piss off the locals, kill off the Guard, destroy their equipment, and then when it was all done, leave.

As the Coalition's forces made their way forward, soldiers from the various special forces units rappelling down into the Hive City from their helicopters, dropping in by parachute and the like, the footmen pushing up and muttering about the heat, the vehicles ready to move into the main highways, their spies reporting that they were enormous and more than capable of withstanding the weight of a tank… or 100.

The defence was fierce inside of the city itself, not to the level that there was going to be a defeat of the Coalition, but enough that they were being forced to commit more and more reserves to the fight.

The Coalition was trying to surround the city and to destroy all of it after all they couldn't have anyone trying to escape, that was just unprofessional and it would mean that there was a force that could harry them as they tried to get closer to Madagascar base. Something that was going to be difficult as it was without them actually having marauders ready to put on the hurt.

The Princess as it was had not shown up as of yet so that was very good, they didn't want for her to just teleport all of their men away, that was cheating.

That or having her attack them from the rear while the Imperium was pushing from the front, a pincer movement being something that they were unwilling to suffer under, a two front battle never ended well.

As the resistance intensified, they understood partly as to why Hive City battles could last for years, the interior was massive and the entire thing was a half completed Hive city at that. They couldn't imagine just how difficult it would be if this was a fully completed one.

And so they marched their way inside, getting ever closer to the center.

When the Princess finally appeared, her flaming figure in the sky.

Looking down at the reinforcements that were still on the outside of the Hive City itself she didn't have any kind of emotion on her face, not even when the cannons and artillery that had been deployed, ready and waiting for her arrival opened fire.

Indeed it looked like each one was swallowed by a black disc before it was able to actually touch her, the entire point of their exercise against her proving to be useless.

No matter, it was likely a Void Field generator and if they fired enough rounds into it, it would be overpowered and shut down.

Which naturally meant that they were going to keep firing at her no matter the cost, stopping now meant that they were just going to die.

With this resolution in their minds, the soldiers engaged the Princess with a fraction of their numbers, the others being inside of the city, or too far away to actually bring their weapons to bear… at least not accurately at any rate.

The coalition fired at her with the force of a thousand guns, their weapons hammering at the void that was her armour, shifting and squirming as it protected her.

They continued to fire, even as barrels glowed red hot, rendering themselves useless, when there was no more ammunition, no more explosives, nothing but their blades and their hands.

Nothing, there was nothing.

It was then that the Princess acted for the first time since she had arrived above their heads, as if taunting them for their lack of ability to bring her down.

Raising her left hand up high, she clenched her fist… and in a move that would echo across the world, the eyes of those with internet access glued to their screens… she brought her arm down and in that moment the soldiers too were brought down. Their feet dropping into the nothingness below them and they found themselves… inside of the city itself.

Looking dispassionately at where the army once stood, or at least the expeditionary army, the main bulk of their forces were waiting for the inevitable retaliation strikes.

It did not matter to her, for they too would be joining their brothers in arms, they were not killed, not because of compassion.

But because they were useful.

They would serve once their soon to be former masters were eliminated.

The defenders inside of the city were too warped, but out to Madagascar Base instead. Their sacrifice had been necessary and they would be allowed to rest as was proper.

The city itself was locked down, blast doors capable of withstanding the might of a Baneblade not budging despite the combined efforts of dozens of armoured vehicles. Their puny cannons were nothing compared to the might of the Mechanicus' siege weapons.

They were trapped in Africa Hive, the civilians long since taken to Madagascar Base for the time being.

As for those still left… they would be receiving the attention of the Princess.

Unlike their unpowered allies, the capes, flying, standing, crawling… all had been stopped by the Primarch. Their minds unable to function with her sight turned upon them.

They stared at her, they could feel her judgemental gaze upon them.

Silence.

It was silence and it was terrifying.

Even in their suppressed minds, the primal responses, those that allowed for their ancestors to survive as cavemen, to hunt, to eat, to flee, roared out.

No.

It screamed out.

It was not roaring in defiance, rather it was screaming in terror.

Their minds were awash with it and with the rest of their minds paralysed, there was nothing that could stem the tide, their entire bodies shivering with fear, adrenaline pumping with nowhere to go.

Yet they could not run, for she had not given them permission to leave, she would not give them permission to leave. She looked down upon them, her face expressionless and waited.

Their legs shook, their bodies shook, their minds shook.

KNEEL

Came her voice, straight into their minds, plunging into the depths and dragging them kicking and screaming out of it.

There was nothing they could do but to obey and so they did.

They knelt.

Each and every single one of them knelt as one.

She looked down and she was displeased, they could feel it in their souls.

They continued to kneel even as the sensations of their flesh slowly faded away. They could not see for they could not move their heads, but they could see in their peripheral vision what was happening to the others, the ones around them.

From the corner of their eyes, they could see and they were terrified.

It was not that the Princess was destroying them… no… it was much more insidious.

The vines were crawling out of the ground and slowly layering themselves over their bodies… sinking into their skin. Like worms in the flesh they continued through, into the stomach, the chest, the arms… and then the head.

They could feel nothing of the world around them, nothing of the… the… the everything.

They could see, they could hear, but they could not feel, for touch was now denied to them.

She continued to gaze down upon them and in her judgement, many of them wept silent tears. Failure. It was failure that guided them, that had become them.

They were nothing more than failures.

She stood above them and she was perfect, she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

She was righteous, she was destiny.

Their destiny.

Their voices as one strained to be let out, to shout out to the entire world that the Princess was their master, that they were unworthy yet they felt they must serve.

Thoughts of those that might possibly be family and friends were slowly washed from their minds, they had no need for such petty concerns, no.

All that remained in their minds was the desire to serve the Princess, she would protect them, she would care for them, and they in turn, would serve her with the greatest ability that they could muster.

Yes.

They were unworthy but for her, they would give up everything, for her they would take nothing for she was a merciful God.

She was their God.

They felt the shackles on their mind ease, and they stood up.

Basking in the glow that was her presence they continued to stare at her, for she was their God.

In turn, they ignored the screaming inside of their minds, the screaming that was their selves of before, their primitive and disgusting selves that had thought they could defy her.

That it was right to defy her.

No, they were wrong, so very terribly wrong and so everything else that they said must be wrong as well.

They ignored the voices them, the despair, the screams, for they were of the old them, they were of them who had been wrong, who had given into the lies and temptation.

No. They were unworthy.

But they would redeem themselves in service to the Princess.

It was only right.

George12

OAMU

Dec 26, 2016

#667

Like a Vengeful God, the Primarch, the Princess had arrived.

Over every single city in the world that was not under her control, that was not in some way subservient to her, the Princess arrived.

Her body in some unknown manner replicated, standing tall in their cities, in their towns, looking down on them, speaking their language.

Her words were simply.

SUBMIT OR BE KNEEL

Her words had hammered their way home, smashing into the souls of those that were listening, those that were reading, their entire bodies shaking and shivering with a primordial fear.

YOU HAVE 1 WEEK

And then silence.

Her figure remained there high in the sky, spread out all over the world, no changes at all. There had been those that had attempted to open fire on her, to engage her and to perhaps retake some of their lost dignity and pride.

It had not worked, the Princess being protected by the same field as she had when she had engaged and vanished the armies of the Coalition inside of the City of Africa.

She hung over their cities like a statue, not moving, not blinking, merely hanging high above, staring at them with what looked like curiosity.

They did not know what was on her mind, only that her presence, one that glowed a particular hue of Lilac that penetrated even walls and ceilings prevented them from forgetting she existed at all.

The Princess was powerful, they knew that, they knew so please turn it down.

They were begging her here.

But no.

It mattered not for their eyes were being blinded no matter which way they were facing, her light spread evenly throughout the entire area, even those that were standing right next to her did not experience a more intense light than those that were standing 10 kilometers away.

All that they knew was that the light filled their eyes from all angles, no matter which way they were looking it was as if there was a Lila hue over their eyes, one that they were becoming increasingly accustomed to… or so they wished. It didn't work, they were still as aware of its presence as they had been the first time they had seen it, the light just… stabbing into their eyes as if laughing at them for not being able to resist it, not being able to counter it, laughing and laughing at them.

It was… terrifying.

Also really damned annoying.

It was like the Princess was taunting them with her presence and they felt annoyed.

They also felt afraid.

She was serious was she not?

No one would do something like this if they weren't serious, she never retaliated against anything they did, if anything she just accepted it and waited as the strikes just whiffed through her shields, or… did nothing to her body at all.

It was as if she was some kind of… some kind of monster.

One just didn't ignore that kind of thing, one just didn't ignore the abuse being hurled at her, one just did not ignore that much firepower being aimed at her in some cases.

The people were afraid, she represented something that was unknown.

They knew her to be peaceful, knew her to be some kind of pacifist.

They also knew her to be a monster in human flesh, killing tens of thousands in a matter of days, mastering thousands of Capes and binding them to her will, doing it as if it were merely a walk in the park for her, no regard being made of the horror that was her actions.

A monster in human flesh.

A Primarch.

They knew what she meant when she had said for them to submit, how could they not? Submit to her or face the consequences, that of being turned into her little plant creatures, that of being rendered something… other than human, something that resembled a human as much as a lemming did.

They were no longer human and any who looked on them would give a shudder of revulsion, that in some way they were something other than human.

The Princess had done it, she had done it and she had done it willingly.

And they knew, deep in their heart of hearts that she would not hesitate to do the same unto them should they disappoint or fail her in any way. It became very obvious therefore that if they wanted to remain… people… that obeying the Princess was the best decision that they could make in their lives.

They had seen after all what happened to those that were forced to kneel, they had been turned into the plant people, they who resisted the Princess having their humanity stolen from them. Their choices were to submit voluntarily, or to kneel against their will, in either case, they would be made the Princess' own.

Submit, or be rendered from the human race as fat was rendered from a Sunday roast.

And so on the following week, in the hours before her arrival, the civilians, the policemen, the coast guard, all of them strode out onto the streets, the parks, the rooftops, their faces to the sky.

They would submit willingly, at least then they would have something to wake up to the next day.

Or so they hoped, they hoped desperately.

He walked out, his feet dragging.

He knew what would be happening next, he knew that if he did not do what was necessary then he would be turned into what the Television had called Triffids.

He hadn't known what those were, but it was scary enough that he didn't want to know.

He just knew that if he failed to turn out, then he would be destroyed.

And so he had, walking onto the street an hour before the appointed time. His face turned up to the sky, his body joining the countless others as they too marched onto the street, all of them ready to as she put it… submit.

He didn't want to submit in all honesty, he had been raised the American way, of freedom and valour and having the guts to stand up to your oppressors, to water the tree of liberty with the blood of patriots and tyrants alike.

He was ready to fight the Imperial Guard if they had come, ready to lay down his life for his ideals, for his honour, for his people.

But this?

There was no honour to dying like this, no honour to being turned into a living plant with nothing to keep you company except your own mind and the horrors within it. He had read the books, he knew what was coming when you were turned into a plant, they were always conscious even if they didn't show it.

It might not be the case here, but he wasn't willing to take that risk.

And so he walked forward, ready to submit himself to his strange new world that he had found himself in.

You could fight back against an army.

Could you fight back against what is essentially a God?

She had her own father who was a God, but honestly? From his perspective… she looked like a God already with her own abilities and powers.

She was far too damned powerful, far too damned… far.

He couldn't reach her and he was sure nobody else could either, she ignored you because you were so far below her in every way imaginable.

He could only stare and sigh, there was nothing that he had that could possibly make him worthy of a Primarch which made her that much more remote.

The Princess was like some kind of unreachable goal that had inscribed upon its surface "future humanity." A goal that they had been told explicitly that humanity would never reach, not in the time it took for the world to finally become something worth living.

The Endbringers would destroy them, or the one that sent the Endbringers.

No, it was better to submit now than try to escape, than try to reason a way out. There was no escape, the hues of lavender that he could still see even with his eyes closed told him that.

Foot forward, one step at a time.

It feels as if it is harder than it should be.

He didn't want to do this… but… everyone else was doing it.

He didn't have any idea on what was going to be happening so he had to make sure that he did everything in his power so that he wasn't going to end up… being a tree.

It is bad. Very bad but it was his life now wasn't it?

The people on the news had been offering ideas on what it was he should be doing, on what it is he should have done.

Always making sure that everything was as… perfect as possible.

That they should at least be in the open along with everyone else, at least try to be part of the wider group, don't be home alone or that might be taken as a sign of rebellion, at least try to make an effort even if you cannot walk, at least try.

At least try.

He kept walking, maybe in the next life he could be a little insect or something without a fear in the world.

He sighed, yup, keep walking.

Looking to his left and to his right he saw yet more people emerging from their homes, from their apartments, just joining the exodus of people as they walked to the city center, filling up the entire highway and road network of the city.

There were no cars today, no way for anyone to potentially disrupt the occasion, no way to perhaps endanger everyone else. They couldn't be responsible for clogging up the roads and preventing anyone else possibly being turned into a plant because they wanted to get there sooner.

Those that had… they weren't with living anymore, there was no time.

The aura of depression and inevitability surrounded those that were making their way forward and they were very much not in the mood to allow anyone to make this more difficult.

They were already submitting themselves to a God from an Empire that was… evil in a word, they did not need other people attempting to ruin their lives at the same time. No, they did not have the time for that, nor did they want to put themselves at risk.

The feeling of inevitability and depression was one that could very quickly turn to anger, could very easily become something that changed into hatred.

They were merely waiting upon a suitable target to present itself for the culling.

No, it was the height of stupidity for they to attempt to do anything on this day and so they did not.

Not if they wanted to live at any rate.

As for he… he was moving forward, making sure to not jostle anyone else.

They were all feeling private on today of all days, nobody wanted to intrude on anyone else's private space.

He looked up at the sky and saw her above him, saw her standing on high, saw her looking down on them, the puny humans that made up her realm.

He sighed and trudged ever forward.

What happened next would change humanity for the foreseeable future. It was a change that impacted not only those that were being subjugated now… but even those that were already loyal to her.

For the Primarch had seen the future and had seen that humanity was not exactly the… most stable of species.

And so she devised a very simple method to keep all of them together, all of them unified against a galaxy that desired for their deaths.

Something that would allow all of humanity to be safe, to be strong, to be human.

To remain as they are even as they spread throughout the stars.

Eyes closed, the Primarch continued the first phase of her plan, the most drastic one she had ever conceived to date.

First. First, she was going to ensure that each and every one of the mortals on this world had a small part of her power inside of them, a link to her at all times.

And then.

And then phase 2.

George12

Dec 26, 2016

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Threadmarks 080 Middle of the End

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George12

OAMU

Dec 26, 2016

#668

It was the beginning of the end and they all knew that.

They all knew that when it came down to it, they were going to be finishing this one way or the other.

The Princess had taken the world, the entire world in a matter of days without a shot being fired.

Or rather there had been many shots fired, but none of them actually did anything. Except perhaps fly into the sky and kill a passing bird or something of the like, but for the Princess herself there was no real damage that had been done. The target of all their anger and their hatred ignoring them as they tried in vain to elicit some kind of reaction from her, anything that could be said to show that she was aware of them let alone cared.

In the end, it had not mattered for she had what she wanted.

A world under her control.

A world that had submitted to her, a world that was on its knees in submission, one that knew the costs of attempting to rebel.

For them it was the beginning of the end because what awaited them at the end was likely the final battle, the moment when it was going to finally end, when they could accomplish their mission and go home (or at least a home, they weren't going back to the Imperium, they all knew that). The Guardsmen had been promised retirement after this, or at least the Guardsmen that weren't the Kriegers had.

They kind of wanted to die which really did put a damper on any parties they went to that was for sure. No doubt they would be able to find a suitable world for the Kriegers to die on, or perhaps an arena of some kind. The question of whether or not the Kriegers were able to reproduce at all kept coming up. A very strange question… for a strange time.

Regardless, the Princess had her world, a world that was solely her own.

The final battle was still in the future, in a future that was outside of the purview of the world's Thinkers or analysts.

The Endbringers had been stopped by some unknown method, the monsters that terrorised the world for so long vanishing into the darkness, into the unknown.

Many had speculated that it was Magnus that had taken them, who else had displayed such contemptuous disregard for the Endbringers before? He was no doubt the most academically inclined of all the Primarchs, he who would no doubt take great pleasure in pulling them apart and studying them in great detail.

The Princess certainly was too busy conquering the world to actually care about what was happening in the world that was hers to command.

She had summoned the Mechanicus from their bastion on Mars to descend upon the planet and to bring unto it glorious revolution.

There would be an overhaul of the entire planet as the Princess had directed. It being made into a "Civilised World", one that was directly under the purview of the Princess. Entire cities were being remade, entire countries razed to the ground and rebuilt from the ground up by the unexpectedly zealous forces of the Mechanicus.

Of particular note was the way in which they centered each city around a Node that Dragon used, but that was considered a coincidence, it was not as if the Mechanicus would care about some kind of Tinker would they? They already had everything that they could possibly want, what was the point of caring about what happened to a single Tinker?

Something that had to be solved at a later date perhaps, for the world, had more pressing matters to deal with.

That being the Legions upon Legions of Skitarii that were bolstering the Guard, overseeing their cities, their peoples and changing the very fabric of the social structure. There would be no more of the comfortable trappings of society that they had been used to. No more of the peace, no more of the anything that might even be considered at an outside glance to be… familiar.

No, society was being remodelled by the Princess, their entire existences revolving around what it was that the Princess regarded as "proper". A time of massive upheaval without the previous acts of terrorism, the Princess' Guard not being attacked by the concentrated forces of the world at this juncture, able to carry out their duties swiftly and assured in the knowledge that they had the protection of the Princess.

It was in the words of the Princess 'complete reform.'

Why this was happening at all was unknown, but the Princess was meeting with her council at this very moment to discuss the Princess' plans going forward.

The table was filled with those of the council, as well as representatives that had been hastily chosen from the civilians, the inhabitants of the world from before the Princess' arrival.

They sat, waiting for the Princess to begin whatever it was that she was trying to do. They were not willing to be as flippant as before, this new Princess was one that resembled her brothers more than she did the girl from before, the one that was unsure of her place in the wider universe, a girl that was afraid of the world, a girl that was unsure as to her own power, one that clung to the last visages of her humanity.

Now… now she was the Primarch who had thrown away the last parts of herself that had made her that girl and donned the cloak of Primarch.

It was… not a terrible fit on her if they were being objective, she did indeed resemble a Primarch, from the way her eyes stared down at them, from the way she radiated a presence that marked her as a Demigod amongst mere mortals.

She was much harder than before, much more willing to do things that would be called heinous even in the Imperium to accomplish her objectives, willing to destroy and purge millions if necessary.

It was a face that many felt at odds with the girl that had begged to be told that there had to be an alternative to just… killing everything.

When asked, she had simply replied that she had purged the weakness from herself.

And now… now she was seated at the end of the table, gazing dispassionately at the assembled delegates, her face impassive, her eyes burning with what looked to be a fire of some kind.

She opened her mouth… and spoke.

"Regarding our plans for the future. I have deliberated on them and see no reason to change my original stance.

"We shall expand our world and allow for it to trade goods to the Imperium but we shall not allow for our peoples to enter the Imperium, nor shall we allow the Imperium to allow for people to enter our own universe. We are too different, too apart for the transition to be peaceful and the fact of the matter is… is that our knowledge of the universe is far too dangerous to be allowed to enter it. Knowledge that could break the Imperium if it was released.

"This means that the Regiments are also to be quarantined here on this world, we are all in this together, unfortunately. The same applies for the Mechanicus, I know that you would very much like to share your knowledge, but I am sure that you can see the reasons behind my decision and agree with them. Hurosius?" She looked at the Magos who even now was paying a very close eye to his little project. Taylor knew what it was but the others certainly did not.

"Agreed. We must keep our knowledge safe and secure, it is a danger to us and to the Imperium as a whole. We of New Mars have reached this consensus, we are yours to command." He intoned.

Taylor nodded to him and turned back to the rest of the table, "this naturally means that we will not be going to and from the Imperium, it will be locked away and all portals will be controlled by me personally. There will be no Alpha Grade psykers being let loose on my world."

The table nodded, even Colonel Knight, she understood the risks to the Imperium. If the weaker minded of them got their hands on the Codexes for the Chaos Marines… she was very worried as to the future safety of the Imperium. No, it was best to have it all locked away and secured… very very secured.

The threat to the Imperium… too damned high that was quite certain.

"However, we will not be isolated from the Imperium, we will trade with the Imperium to ensure that we are able to exploit the resources to continue our expansion within this universe specifically. New Mars no doubt will be able to make use of the extended space to expand outwards and allow for the continued production of products and the like for the Imperium. We will be connected to the Imperium, however, we will continue to be separate. There will be no overwhelming of our world by the Imperium." She said, looking at them and noting the relieved expressions on the faces of the civilians present.

She was being truthful in her words, here was no real desire on her part to allow the conquest of the peoples of the world by the Imperium for there was no need for it, what were they worth really that they needed complete Imperial hegemony? No, it was far better to allow for her to remain in charge since she could best exploit the world as it was for the betterment of the people. She was born here after all, who would know better than herself?

"You have taken the world Primarch… what happens from here? What are you planning to do with the people of my… our world?" Came the question from one of the civilians. A president of some kind likely.

"There are still matters that need to be dealt with, but those can come in due time. What is important is that we need to deal with the situation of the people first, my Brother has already taken care of the Endbringers, they are currently being studied inside of his lab. However, the concern is that the peoples of the world are not ready for what is to come. This world is inefficient and it must be made to work properly, it must be made in such a way that all previous concerns are rendered moot.

"To that end, the Mechanicus will reshape the continents to better allow for our plans to come to fruition and there will be massed movements of people as we relocate them to areas where they would best serve the Imperium.

"But that is not the true concern that is on my mind at the moment," Taylor said, leaning forward, her face stretched into a frown of depression.

"W...w.w...w what it is?" Stammered a civilian, the Primarch's aura pressing down on his soul.

"There is an enemy that stands before us and is very much capable of ruining everything that we have worked towards. An enemy that is so powerful that even I am not sure that I am capable of defeating." She said, looking at them with deadly serious eyes.

"What could possibly be that enemy?" They asked like the obedient parrots that they were.

"The one known as Scion." She said, hands fiddling with what looked to be a remote of some kind.

"Scion!? He's a hero! He's fought the Endbringers! How could he be the enemy?" Came the cry.

"He may be a hero, he may have fought the Endbringers but he is certainly the enemy. Please look here." She said simply, neck twisting left and right as if there was a weight on it that even she the Primarch couldn't shrug off.

"What is this?" Ah… yes. The civilians wouldn't understand what was being portrayed, would they?

"This is an image of Scion. Or rather, this is what Scion would look like if it was possible for Scion to be visible to the truly naked eye." Taylor said, showing what looked like Scion in the middle of a vast web of fluttering beams of energy that undulate like seaweed or coral on the seabed.

"Scion is not human. Scion… is an alien, one that has been toying with humanity for the past 30 years. It had the opportunity to prove its benevolence, it has not done so. It has proven that it either acts for its own enjoyment, or that it does for malicious gain. The Endbringers did not come from nowhere after all. Measures must be taken for Scion is a threat to the world at large, or rather I will be taking measures, merely continue as you are, there is nothing that you can do regardless." Taylor said as Lisa keeled over.

What now?

George12

Dec 26, 2016

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George12

OAMU

Dec 27, 2016

#685

The Princess had brought the world under her dominion and… well… she had left the actual running of the world to her administrators, those that she had culled from the population with abilities that would allow for the highest level of efficiency possible, while also attempting to give the humans the highest degree of comfort possible.

She was not some kind of evil monster, rather she was a Primarch on a mission, she had her goal in front of her and it needed to be struck down for the good of humanity, a humanity that likely would never appreciate what she was doing for them, since they likely would never actually see it happen.

That is until they came across more of them on their own.

A being so terrifying that all she could do was drag and claw every bit of power in her being towards this one goal, there were no detours allowed, no possible alternative, nothing. Her entire life up until this moment concentrated to a singular goal.

No matter, the Princess was over the ocean today, the Pacific Ocean of she was being precise.

She was looking down at the calm water and felt… for a brief moment what it must have been like to be able to live life without any worries, without any concern, without the screams of millions echoing in her ears.

The moment was gone as soon as it had arrived and if not for her Primarch enhanced mind, she may have thought that it was nothing but a moment of fancy, and indeed it was.

She did not have time for this, the second phase of her plan was beginning and she needed all of her concentration on this single point.

Eyes closed she looked down and considered briefly just what needed to be done before moving to do it.

Hands up to the sky, as if she were trying to summon the benefaction of a benevolent god (there were none), the Primarch Taylor Hebert, Queen of the Everliving Forest stared upwards as her energy swelled inside of her. It built up with a glacial speed, one that reminded any who may or may not have been watching that it was more of a slow yet relentless feeling as opposed to that of a weak and fragile one.

It built with the force of a thousand very hot furiously burning suns, slowly growing ever more until even those that were thousands of kilometers away could feel the prickling on their skin as the Warp Energies concentrated themselves to such a degree that something of the like had never been seen since the Great Crusade.

Even Magnus had abandoned his research in favour of coming to her side and watching what magics that his little sister was planning to conjure up this day.

His eyes lit up at what was on display, a force of power so great that it quite simply shattered his illusions of what was possible and what was not. She was doing something that… well… boggled the imagination.

How was she doing it?

Even for a Primarch, this level of power was something that would see them destroyed by the sheer ferocity of it. The more one tried to ride the dragon, the harder it would buck them off, the larger the dragon the more dangerous the backlash.

Only for Magnus to note with incredulity that his little sister was doing something that he had never considered before, using each and every human on the planet as a battery for yet more Warp Energies.

While she was a Primarch, she was indeed still a human and she came with the weaknesses that one associated with humanity.

That being a limit.

She had a hard limit as defined by her body and her mind.

Yet with something near 5 billion humans on the planet, each serving as a tiny reservoir, they were able to allow for her to store more the 5 times the power that she on her own would have been able to. They were weak, they were puny, yet in Astra Militarum fashion, they demonstrated yet again that quantity was a quality in its own right.

Head shaking at the absurdity that was his little sister, Magnus watched for an entire week as his sister drew the powers that she needed into herself, drew them from an increasingly reluctant Warp that despite being calm, was still collected enough to recognize when it was being abused.

It was not liking it at all and was beginning to fight back.

Only for Magnus to demonstrate just why he was the most Powerful Psyker in the Imperium (besides Father) and smack it down, he wanted to see what would happen at the end of this and he wasn't going to let anyone interfere, let alone some impertinent Warp that didn't even have a God yet.

Children never learned, did they?

Or so he had read.

Regardless, his sister appeared to have finished the first portion of her little… excursion and was now doing something else.

Something…

Something that he had never seen before.

His little sister was certainly something else, wasn't she?

He liked this very much, three psyker genius' in the family, they could accomplish so much together unlike the killjoy that was his father.

Sure she was in another universe and had quarantined herself away, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't be able to visit. He was a Primarch was he not? It was a mere matter of a slightly more involved Warp Walk for him to traverse the Multiversal boundaries that separated this reality and his own home.

Enough rambling about himself, however, his little sister was doing something again and it certainly looked to be amazing from a distance.

Perhaps it would be amazing up close as well?

He wanted to find out, but had enough prudence to not.

He did not wish to be turned into whatever it was that he would be turned into if he walked into the maelstrom that was… whatever that was.

The energy was being coaxed into small comets that were spinning about madly inside of what looked to be an invisible sphere that was many hundreds of kilometers across.

They were… glyphs of a kind.

She was marking glyphs using the power of the Warp, ingenious. In such a way she could have unparalleled precision, yet at the same time be able to complete control over the final design without worrying about the lack of power.

After all, she had inserted the power, in the beginning, no threat of exhaustion and mind shattering headaches for her.

His little sister did indeed know how to use all of her advantages to her advantage, that much was for certain.

She was a credit to the family and he was going to have to brag to someone about this.

Regardless of what he was thinking, the next stage was beginning, this time she was doing something he recognized from the last time, creating more of the giants… yet these were all facing inward from what he could tell.

The patterns that she was drawing in the sky were dragging yet more power in, and distributing them to each seed that Magnus had analysed with his abilities. It told him very clearly that while they were superficially similar to that of the ones in the city that his sister had claimed for herself… they were also something so very different.

Indeed their programming in some way… screamed for some kind of… separation?

She was planning to use them to melt the veil of reality with the veil of the immaterium, to form some kind of new reality?

Was that the point of having a large sphere like that in the first place?

Magnus wondered, as his sister used the sphere to create an arena, a sphere he noted, fit perfectly inside the circumference of that of the giants, a sphere that was being marked as a boundary of such immense power that it resembled that which protected the Webway back on Terra during the Great Crusade.

He would know… he did break it and set things into a downward spiral which he would be forever repenting.

Still, she was doing something absurd and Magnus could not tear his eyes away from it as the Giants rose up, through the water and into the sky.

Massive.

They towered over Titans, over anything that could be fielded by the armies of man or any other creature.

He had no name for them, they were simply too magnificent.

Or maybe that was his awe in seeing something new speaking. It wasn't as if he was a new disciple that could be awed by seeing something large… but it was still something that his eyes could not afford to look away from.

Seeing the beasts as they rose up into the sky was interesting to be sure, but the engrams and enchantments laid upon them were those that would not be out of place on Prospero in terms of strength.

From what he could understand of them, they were something that used the Engrams… and biological cogitators to calculate resultant field that the Giants could create. Or rather they existed to modulate the large sphere that his little sister had cultivated, creating something that was… not quite purely psykic, yet not fully technological either.

A design that interested the Primarch indeed.

As for the giants themselves, they were being connected to various different little networks all over the world from what he could see, little networks that were connected to that of the people of the world itself… a very interesting manner in which to do it. She was crowd sourcing the power perhaps?

Not merely for the implementation of her idea but for the continued running of it as well? How interesting.

If he was able to accomplish the same for his own Legion, perhaps they would be able to do things on such a scale that the Imperium would no longer need to concern themselves with the Black Crusades. Merely crushing the entire fleet with the combined might of thousands of Space Marines linked together to his own control.

It was an idea that he was going to need to think about in detail, if he did manage to accomplish his objective it would cause for a very large scale and terrifying change in the Imperium itself.

Warping the entire legion to and from battle from Prospero to anywhere in the Imperium was a possibility… very interesting.

He was going to need to explore this avenue of thought further.

Turning his attention back to his little sister, it appeared that she was doing something absurd as well, creating what looked to be an entirely new reality was it?

The engrams were being laid down and it looked as if it were something that was neatly cutting a hole in reality, and then melding the remnants with that of the Immaterium to create something… different.

Something entirely different and something that was very worrying.

If she did this wrongly the entire world was liable to be sucked into the resultant mess and tear itself apart trying to get into the hole.

He had seen Father do similar against various worlds during the Great Crusade when he was still leading it from the front. He had seen entire worlds squeezed through a hole barely a fraction of its size, turning it into… planet puree.

Not the best image to have inside of his mind… and he had seen things in the Warp that could be classified as terrifying.

Shaking his head slightly, Magnus shook the memories out to see what his sister was doing next.

Ah.

Floating giant heads.

Each one designed to have a binding effect of some kind?

Was she trying in some way to bind the… ah.

That being that he had detected that appeared to be human yet was not. It had power that was for certain, a fight between the two of them would if his guess was correct, depend entirely upon who struck first and how… and also how many centuries of preparation that Magnus had.

It had a link to another reality, given time he would figure out where it went and be able to strike at the real body, but for now… for now, it looked to be something that was out of his grasp temporarily.

Who knew his sister had such ambitions… he was a little hurt she hadn't asked him for help but children did grow up, didn't they?

Last edited: Dec 27, 2016

George12

Dec 27, 2016

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George12

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Dec 27, 2016

#686

Taylor Hebert looked up at the sky and for once thought that things were going according to plan.

That for once… for once she had been given the time she needed, the space she needed, the effort she needed and for once… for once, the world had not tried to break her.

She considered the idea that perhaps… perhaps things were finally looking up for her.

That was until she considered just what needed to be done.

There had been many things that had been done, there were many things that needed to be done.

The things she had done had been horrendous.

Much of it to people she was sure were innocent… but it didn't matter for in the end there would be victory, or there would be death. There was no middle ground, the innocent did not get a special place in heaven or whatever it was that they were looking forward to. Unless it was the sweet sweet embrace of oblivion.

No matter.

She had done what she had needed to do, she had committed acts that would have had her branded a monster anywhere else… but not here. Here they loved her, here they thought that she was the second coming of Christ and she... really really wanted to just… just a little smack to some of their heads.

But she didn't, for it was necessary.

Everything was necessary. To defeat the final enemy, an enemy so powerful, so… dangerous that she would be insane not to prepare every single failsafe that she could, she would do all the monstrous acts needed of her and more.

Humanity would not survive what was coming because she was merciful, because in some way she was 'nice.'

No, humanity would survive because it did what needed to be done.

She was currently inside of the Sphere that she had created 5 years ago.

5 years in which she had been building her time, and more importantly, building her power.

The planet had changed and she was glad for it, even though that she had done so very little in regards to that change. It was being done in her name so she supposed that maybe that was good, but in all honesty, she did not care.

Every single second of every single day had been spent preparing herself for what was coming next, preparing herself for the most difficult thing she would likely ever need to do.

To fight Scion.

A being of such immense power that to simply look at him through the Witch Sight was to see the very fabric of reality bend inwards to accommodate his presence.

He was in simple terms… the final boss.

She turned to regard her batteries, those that had been specifically created in order to better give her the power that she needed for his confrontation. That would give her all the strength that was needed, that would give her the staying power that was needed if she wanted to fight Scion.

That had been the first of the monstrous things that she had done.

They were once people.

Now they were containers.

It was not a particularly glamorous role, but it was a vital one.

To her eyes, there were two kinds of containers that each had a different level of utility to her. There was the human container that had a single human. They were what the population of the world had called the 'Triffids'. She wasn't too sure what they were exactly other than plants that ate people… which was weird since the Triffids didn't eat people, but that was of no concern.

What was of concern was that each of them contained a single human… and a single human soul.

Something that would in turn, allow for her to load them up with as much psykic energy as they could possibly handle and then store somewhere where they would in turn, live on indefinitely until they were needed, in which case she would summon them… or just draw on their energy. They were hers, there was no limit here.

Each one of them was brain dead, an individual that was never going to again think for themselves unless she granted them that ability, their souls anchored to their bodies by the fact that they were still technically alive.

They would continue to serve regardless of whether or not they wanted to, for they were hers to command. It was likely that they would not be given a chance to be human again, what was going to happen next was going to fry their brains, each overloaded in terms of the terrible amount of power stored within them being ripped out in an instant. Their bodies unable to handle the pressure and rupture, exploding them into a million small droplets, to be evaporated on the wind.

The next battery was those that contained what Lisa had called Shards.

People who were impregnated with a shard that in turn gave them powers.

As in they were capes. Thousands of capes.

What made them special was that the had a significantly higher capacity than that of ordinary peoples.

The Shards after some careful rewiring to avoid… alerting the one known as Scion, would instead store the energy that was given to it without relaying that fact to the alien itself.

Their numbers were bolstered by those of Cauldron.

She had met with Cauldron and she had demanded their capes, or at the very least the ones that weren't needed for her own needs.

There had been a bit of back and forth but in the end, they understood that there was no option but to accede to her demands and they had done so.

For humanity they had said, she had agreed.

And so she had countless capes, each of them being turned into batteries, each of them being filled with more and more power that she had forced them to draw.

She had not discovered a limit yet, but it did not matter, time was drawing short and the one known as Scion would soon begin attacking in order to instigate conflict, or so Magnus had told her. She had not yet worked out the secrets of the future sight, anything beyond the surface, but it was not something that would be locked away from her for long, she did not have the patience to allow for that to happen.

But for the time being it mattered not, she was here now and she had things that needed to be done. Things like starting a fight with Scion.

Her batteries were hidden away in different locations around the world except for the 500 that she would need to kickstart the arena as she called it. Their personal presence a necessary evil to ensure that there was as little in between they and the Arena as possible.

They and the people of the world would be giving her the power to sunder the very fabric of reality, to introduce it to the immaterium and then to crush both of them into a fine powder to clean her floors with.

Unleashing powers beyond human comprehension, Taylor was going to be creating for herself a pocket dimension in which everything except her link to the batteries was going to be blocked. The power of the 500 batteries along with that which had been stored in the billions of peoples across the globe was necessary here, unless it was necessary she did not wish to draw upon the batteries as to do that would force her to work off lower reserves than she had been planning.

Everything was going to be needed to fight against the beings that Cauldron had labelled the Entities.

To destroy Scion was to destroy the consciousness, she understood that, it was merely that Scion was not some fragile little beastie that was wandering about, but a titanic being of power.

She could not afford to underestimate him, and so had created yet more of the Guardians, only these were Suppressors. Each one was tuned to the frequency of the shards, the one that her batteries possessed… the one that Scion possessed. Each Suppressor would therefore, work to push down the power of the shards themselves, to render them less effective.

It would only ever work in the Arena for it was an entirely new reality, one that she had written the rules for. Or at least partially for the rules applied to her as well as Scion. To unmake reality would be to unmake her, and so evening the field was all that she could afford to do in this time, Scion after all, did not exist totally in this plane of reality but rather as a projection into the world.

Inside, the Shard Batteries would naturally lose most of their effectiveness, but that was a tradeoff she was willing to make, after analysing its abilities for a year… it had something that could be classified as… extremely terrifying that it used for everything.

The golden light that could cause things to simply… stop.

Something that was going to need to be considered as if it hit Taylor, there was a chance that she was going to die. Just what would happen after that was up for consideration, the possibility that she had abilities similar to that of Vulcan's and be able to simply come back was something that was… possible.

On the other hand, it might mean that she was dead now and forever and that was a concern.

Taylor therefore, could not allow herself to be hit at full power, her cells, her very being were made up for the most part of Warp energy, energy that allowed for her to draw upon the power of the Warp for such things as combat. At the same time however, it also meant that if there was something that Scion could do to disrupt Warp Energy, then she would be left quite powerless and if the field was powerful enough… possibly even kill her.

A trip to Cauldron's facilities and accessing the partner of Scion helped her solve that problem. She apologized briefly to the number of minds she had burnt out looking through the "entity's" history, (the sheer amount of information was far too great for them to handle), looking for any and all signs of Warp Energy manifesting itself.

To her relief there were none, she was as they could say… safe.

Or rather it gave her an edge, Scion would not be able to adapt, not be able to understand what was happening in the first few valuable seconds that she was trying to destroy it. It gave her an edge, something that would allow for her to strike out and perhaps even destroy the being while it was still in shock.

It was really her main focus… and her main hope, in a battle where one side was smashing force against force, she was going to lose. She understood that, but right now… at the height of her maturity, it was the only option she had.

Fight now and pick the battlefield, or to delay the fight and possibly be attacked where she was weakest, her only real options.

Taylor closed her eyes and considered everything that she had done up to this point and what exactly the consequences would be if she failed.

She looked up at the sky, then the water, her neck straining itself to reach the angles she demanded of it.

Soon.

Materialising a little orb in her hands, she smiled as she gazed down at it. The souls of the Butcher, their shards, their power. She had allowed for them to possess more bodies, nearly a thousand more, drawing yet further power for a final trump card if all things went wrong. Or if all things went right, it was hard to tell at this point in time.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Eyes closed Taylor mentally went over her plan one more time.

A plan that had consumed her life since the very first moments that she had become aware of the being known as Scion 6 years ago. The truth of the being, the truth of the threat. Everything she had done was in preparation for this moment, every single death, every single pain, every harm.

Expediency and efficiency over all else, nothing could be allowed to stand in her way for the slightest delay would see the world itself very possibly end. An enemy that even Magnus, Herself and his entire Legion together could not defeat? Any and all methods were allowed, for to hesitate was to fail, to fail was to render the world gone.

Once she committed herself it was a matter of following the plan, charging straight ahead and hoping that she had everything that she needed.

Failure was not an option, nor was retreat or regrouping.

She had to pummel him with everything she had.

Magnus had identified a key element that would allow for her to crush him, to destroy him.

It would require of her the largest amount of acting that she was capable of, acting that would see her brought up against the most powerful being on the planet, acting that would see her fighting said being on a field tilted so far towards her that she might possibly, possibly stand on equal footing.

And now… and now it was going to start.

She drew her power together, her power together for the last time and corralled it into creating something that took all of her imagination, all of her ability.

To make it live, to make it seem as if it were… real.

Warping herself before the alien, she raised her hand which contained the being, her own fist wrapped around its throat.

The one known as Scion stared at her with those dead eyes, or rather stared into the eyes of the copy of his partner's projection, the one that one might call Eden if they were… fanciful. It radiated the signature of his partner, it was at a surface glance, actually his partner.

Staring into the eyes which were pleading with him.

Eyes that died as Taylor crushed her fist and with it the copy disintegrated and she could see the alien stare at her with rage in its heart, in its eyes.

She allowed herself to stare into his eyes, to know what was coming and moved herself to the Arena.

It was starting.

She had prepared, now to see if it was worth anything.

George12

Dec 27, 2016

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Threadmarks 083 End of the End

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George12

OAMU

Dec 28, 2016

#698

Magnus the Red, or as some of those that had managed to survive him or his brother called him… the Crimson Frakker.

He had been tasked with a mission of immense importance.

One might consider it a mission of the greatest importance.

The signal had come through and he needed to move now.

The being known as Scion was a threat not to this world but to the Imperium. While this dimension was separated by an immense gulf in the Warp, he would not put all of his faith on that fact preventing it from being able to make its presence known within the Imperium.

It was something that was of immense power, so great that his little sister had sought him out for advice on how to deal with it, had tried to make sense of the impressions that she had received after parsing the being's memories.

She had created an entire forest worth of brains, yet it was not enough, each of them burnt out before they were even able to parse a tiny fraction of the memories contained within. The corpse of Scion's partner still capable of relaying information, it was not truly human after all.

There were things about it that allowed for him to… cheat a little.

It had taken a while but they had taken the information that was needed, the information that would allow for her to accomplish their objective of destroying it.

The beings were an entire planet's worth of monster, capable of so much power that it would be able to destroy every world in the Imperium if it so wished… at the same time.

In fact, it was something that if left unchecked could end all life on this world without even needing to try.

A threat of the highest order.

And so his little sister had devised a plan.

A plan that required of her a very simple fact, a plan that would allow for her to destroy the being. At great cost to herself, there was no alternative, she had made sure to explain that in detail, a plan that demanded from her everything she had.

It was a plan that would allow for him to destroy the being while she kept it occupied, he was after all the one that had the most experience in looking into the unknown and attempting to find things within it, things… like shards of power. His experience with one genocidal god-like being would translate into finding other god-like beings.

And so they had divided up their roles accordingly, his worth naturally meaning that he was the one that had been tasked with finding the real body of the projection that was Scion, finding the body and then destroying it.

Her task was to distract the entity, using her own powers and that which she had built up over the years to survive.

It was going to be something that would be incredibly dangerous, judging from what it could do in terms of observing the being, it was something that was incredibly out of her range in terms of abilities.

Constant aggression was the only hope that she had.

Anything else and she was going to allow a chip in her armour, and fall in a matter of seconds. It was like training against Magnus, a Magnus that was not holding back.

Her own power was limited, the Arena which she had created for herself being separate from the Materium and the Immaterium at the same time. She would only have that power which she brought in, that power that she had through whatever links that she herself had. Or in the case of her batteries, cheat outrageously and to have the plants defined as herself as well, to have them link to her and bring an external power supply into the fight.

Cheating outrageously… and he couldn't fault her for it.

As for himself, he had to move quickly.

They couldn't take the risk that the being known as Scion would be able to detect their probing into its subdimensions and react in some way, which naturally meant that his sister's actions were merely a cover by which he would be able to seek, find and then destroy.

On his own, it would have taken far too long and so he had brought across his entire Legion (or at least those not engaged, on campaigns of their own) to assist.

Copying his little sister, Magnus linked them all together and in doing so created a link by which they would be able to pool their power and more importantly their cognitive capabilities.

Together the Legion was able to parse the realities that had been laid bare before them and in doing so was able to seek and find what it was they were looking for.

Hopefully.

To find what it was they were searching for was not difficult, to find what it was that they were looking for in time to assist his sister was another matter entirely.

Taylor grimaced as she dashed away from the being that was Scion. She had to make sure that there was enough of a trail that it would be able to follow her, but not so slow that she was not going to be torn apart.

The being chased after her and looked to be… furious.

Only it was not quite working out so well, its face had clearly not been used for a significant period of time and was unable to properly twist itself into anything other than a grimace.

It would be funny, if not for the fact that it was a being that eclipsed the Endbringers seeking to destroy her, a being that was alien, a being that was simply too different for her to cheat and use her powers to channel its mind.

It was cheating in her opinion, the body was merely a projection, the mind itself merely a filter by which it could translate its thoughts into human speak.

For Taylor, that meant that she was forced to do this the hard way as she warped herself to and from the area, ensuring that she was going to be a difficult if not impossible target to take down.

For its part, Scion was not using its power but Taylor was a Primarch, she was not stupid. It was quite clear what was happening in her eyes, the subtle twitches of the being's fingers as it aborted its attempts to attack her like the screams of a psychotic in an enclosed room.

It was a precognitive, it knew what was going to happen and it was trying to attack where she was going to be instead of where she was through its mental targeting programs.

Only Taylor was a precognitive herself, one that was infinitely weaker than Magnus, but still able to see into the future, to see a few seconds ahead at a glimpse, a few hours if she sat down and tried.

It was enough to allow for her to dodge the being's attacks but she was sure that this was a respite that wasn't going to last. It had no doubt in the past engaged and destroyed others of the like, others who had the ability to see into the future, others who were much more powerful than she would ever be.

She grimaced as a blast came out of the alien's fingertips, a blast that she narrowly avoided.

This was not going according to plan, she could not afford to use all of her battery power here, that would defeat the purpose of what she was trying to do in the first place. There wasn't enough energy for her to block one of those, she wasn't enough to try that, it was insane.

Taylor pushed herself harder, trying to see into the future, countering the futures where she was indeed hit, dodging them and then countering herself again, constantly guessing and double guessing as she zipped about in the sky, dodging left, dodging right, forward and backwards, always towards the Arena. If she was lucky there would be a triple guessing, a quadruple guessing, then maybe a penta, a hexa and she would be back to the beginning. Always with the guessing.

Her training with Magnus was paying off, but it was taxing, her Primarch enhanced mind unable to count the number of possible futures, unable to compute just what was going to be the optimal path. There was a mind boggling number of them, enough to shatter the minds of any normal human many times over to experience it for but a moment. For her to remain in this state for the foreseeable future?

Madness.

It was hurting her and she knew that she would not be able to hold out for long.

Dammit, she shouldn't have started this on the other side of the world. A very bad decision on her part.

She had been caught up in the moment and had caused herself no end of grief.

There.

Dashing forward, she entered the Arena, the alien following straight after, as if it didn't know what was going to happen. And indeed it did not, it was unable to comprehend the Warp, after all, it existed on an entirely different plane of reality.

Tripping the trigger, the batteries hummed and all over the world the peoples felt something akin to an incredible agony in their chests, in their hearts, in their souls.

As if on some level, there was something tearing them apart.

Yet they could not scream, they were unable to, the pain unbearable.

Many perished, their bodies unable to cope with the demands that had been placed upon them, collapsing in piles of ash.

Their last moments… agony.

Their loved ones could only look on in horror, but their sacrifice was enough, the Arena was drawn up and Taylor Hebert, Primarch had her playing field.

The being known as Scion immediately felt the effects, its link back to its power source, its shard had been reduced immensely, so much so that it had to check that it was not in any way the target of some kind of suppression field. Yet there were no shards in the nearby vicinity, this did not tick any of its internal playlists of counters.

It would need to do this manually and the being known as Scion felt a flash of displeasure at that, layering on top of the overwhelming need to crush this insect.

For her part Taylor began to draw upon the batteries as she dashed her way forward, slamming into the entity with her power, the ability to parse the future not seeing the effect that the Warp had on it.

Or rather it had seen the aftermath, but it could not react in time.

The Arena cut off most of its access to its shards, preventing them from acting at full power, years of future sight turned into mere seconds, the being reduced in terms of thousandths of a fraction of its previous ability. Yet even here it was a threat to her, a threat that was going to in a very real sense tear her apart if she was not careful.

A battle of attrition then, to destroy the projection to crush it, to in some way render it ineffective.

Taylor continued the offensive, slamming it with fists of psykic might, enough to render entire continents into piles of dust, concentrated into tiny little fists, smashing into the being that reacted with indifference and disdain… even amusement at her flailing.

No matter.

She could not stop now.

The offensive continued, the occasional retaliation from the being absorbed by the void shield that surrounded her.

Trading blows, each time draining her batteries yet further.

Magnus felt his sister in the background through their link. She was currently battling the alien.

He needed to move and he needed to move now.

The link had been established and he was powering himself up, he would not fail his sister, not today, not any day.

Eye narrowing with the effort that was required of him, Magnus concentrated and in doing so pulled the power towards him, sending it out again through the many different realities connected to the Warp, the wall here much thinner than it had been from the Imperium to this world.

The ping returned multiple worlds, multiple universes, thousands of them, tens of thousands, so many countless more. None of them what he was looking for, the alien mind, the alien composition that was the power giving shards not present.

He sent out further pulses, further efforts into the unknown, pummelling his power through the curtains of unreality to seek and find his target.

It was taking effort that he had not exerted since the Great Crusade and many of his own Space Marines were feeling the strain, some of them expiring outright.

He gritted his teeth and continued, he could not fail, his sister was counting on him.

Taylor gritted her teeth, the fight was progressing… sure. But it wasn't actually progressing.

She was hammering him down every single chance she had, there was no finesse here, there was no display of consummate skill, everything she had was being used to merely pummel him down or to dodge out of the way of his beams, or spheres, or waves, or whatever it was he was trying to pull.

In some cases, she had no option but to take the attack to put her in a position where she was able to continue hitting him without reprieve.

The battle one being fought more in her mind than that of her body.

She was hammering away at his mind, attempting to break it in some way by overloading it. The problem being was that Scion was able to shunt that information back, able to pass it to the main body and leave itself clear and safe.

The fact that it was alien in the first place meant that she couldn't simply just reach in and turn a switch. This was not some kind of artificial entity like the Endbringers, this was an actual Sapient creature and it was resisting her efforts by merely existing. Her attempts at information control a mere drop in the ocean that was the being known as Scion, in time perhaps she may have found the key. But not here, not now.

At the very least, however, she was able to get through to the human part of Scion, the part that was lifting the arms and the legs, hammering away at the control it was trying to exert, forcing it to waste power by slamming into the sides of the Arena.

Which itself was holding, it would hold so long as she was alive, her using half her power to keep this fight contained. If it collapsed… then she was going to fail, it was as simple as that. She couldn't fight something like this on her own, every trick in the book needed to be on her side if she wanted this to work.

Orbiting around the sphere that was the Arena the glowing heads that she had created were working hard. Each one latched onto one of Scion's arms or legs, or head, and tried to scramble it inside, tried to force it to react differently. Every time it adapted, the controls would shift again, left was right, right was down and up was backwards.

There could be no fighting fair here, fighting fair was for the people that wanted to die… and she did not want to die.

And so she was trying everything in her power to prolong the fight, to force Scion to be on the backfoot, hammered by forces that it could not predict, striking at its control, trying with every ounce of her being to hold Scion back.

Sometimes… sometimes she couldn't block, or deflect, or divert and had to take a hit directly on. She would run damage control in that time, quickly working out whether or not it would be more efficient to allow it to hit directly and tear off an arm of a leg, to regrow it again and continue fighting, or to block it because trying to regrow body parts in the middle of a battle was insanity.

In either case, she was trading off battery power for time. Time that she desperately needed. But Battery power? That was time as well, it defined how much longer she could fight for.

So much she needed to keep in her mind, so much that she needed to consider, all of it inside of her mind, begging, begging, begging.

Demanding more of her, always more. It was never enough, more more more.

She allowed herself to scream. She had an objective… and it was right in front of her.

She could not fail, not here, not now.

Flinging herself at Scion again, Taylor kicked at his waist, sending him right, his beam rocketing into the sky.

Sometimes you just needed to take risks.

Not that it appeared to matter, everything she did… did nothing.

Nothing at fucking all.

Magnus felt the battle through his link with his sister. It was draining her, they didn't have much time.

Growling he continued his search, sending pulse after pulse into the multiverse, it had to be there somewhere.

His sister didn't have the time to allow for this to continue as it was, just one mistake, just one little slip up and she was gone.

Concentrating harder than he had ever in the past, he glared at the metaphorical enemy that was the multiverse and resolved to smash it apart if necessary, drawing yet further energy… and realising that it would not be enough.

Fists clenching hard enough to bleed, Magnus decided that the most drastic step was needed, one that could possibly have consequences beyond his imagination, but it was a risk that he was willing to take. The Warp here was calm, something that was not yet impregnated by the presence of the Gods of Chaos, nor by the Warp Creatures that would have attempted to devour his mind as they had done with Fulgrim's.

No, he had a chance here.

Cutting his link to his sons, to his students, to his Space Marines, Magnus pushed his way forward, stepping through the barrier that prevented him and the rest of reality from being inundated in the insanity that was the Warp, stepping forth and dipping his feet into the raw power that was the Warp.

Eyes closed, eyes open, he took a deep breath and stepped the entire way in, ignoring the shouts of panic from his Legion.

And he felt it, the sheer power that was present here, the amount of… stuff, the insanity, the whirling maelstrom.

Taking a moment to stabilise himself, Magnus opened himself to it all and for the first time in a long time he was… awake.

He could feel everything, he could feel everything.

Hand pulling towards himself, he felt the tangible sensation of the Warp on his skin, the feeling of it effortlessly moulding to his every whim, catering to his desire.

Even then he needed every iota of his power, needed every single part of himself to be here, to be in the game.

He needed to be strong.

No reservations.

Dropping his skin, that of Magnus the Red, he revealed his true form that of a being that in a word could be described as… human.

Plainly human.

Ignoring his pale limbs, Magnus imposed his will upon the Warp and raised a pedestal for him to stand.

Casting his gaze upon that swirls of purple, teal and black that surrounded him, Magnus took a moment to stabilise his thoughts. A brief respite as he contemplated just what it was that he was trying to accomplish here.

And then he released it, his power, stretching into the Multiverse, no longer a feeler that was edging about, but a straight fist of raw power that smashed apart any and all resistance, tunneling through the walls of reality, his mind driving all of it, going mad with power.

There were no brakes on this train.

Wait for me Little Sis, I've got you.

Taylor grimaced as she felt the blood that dripped from her lips. Left lungs had been destroyed in the latest exchange which admittedly was not as bad as it could have been. A simple flick and she was able to supplement her organs with a sheath of plant matter that would blend to flesh as needed.

She was back in the fight.

Not allowing Scion any kind of respite, she dashed forward, slamming into the creature, ignoring the searing pain as it tore off her right arm.

Reserves were running low, nearly 30% if her mind was in any state to judge, clouded as it was by the battle lust that drowned her.

No matter.

Glaring at the enemy, she understood this was the hardest fight of her life, and she could not relent, not now, not ever.

Forcibly regrowing her arm, a hook of plant material, she glared and slammed him sideways with enough force to cleave through a Hab Block had she a long enough sword. It merely stared at her as if nothing had happened and indeed nothing had happened, her blows doing nothing at all.

No matter.

She had to keep fighting no matter the cost.

Reserves running low, power running low, body that was on the verge of falling apart, more plant than flesh at this point in time.

The stopgaps were working… for now.

She couldn't afford to rely on them for any longer than she was, the body was not ready for this, nor was the mind.

Suppressing all sensations period was buying her time, but eventually, it would fall apart and she would fall, broken.

No matter.

Taylor gritted her teeth and pushed forward again, forcing her body to move to meet the demands that she was placing on it, the demands that were seeing her very cells overloading with Warp energy, mutating in ways she was unsure would see her human at the end of all of this.

No matter.

Everything and anything that might be of use would be used, body included.

She frowned, reserves were decreasing further, she was hammering in the blows but again, nothing was happening at all.

Nothing.

No changes to its face, no changes to its expression, just staring at her as if she were merely wasting its time. The low burning rage was still there but there was amusement in that now, it thought it would play with her.

20% charge.

Time for drastic action then no?

Taylor allowed herself to smile, it looked like things were indeed going wrong… and indeed they were going as according to plan.

Hopefully, Magnus would be able to finish his mission soon or she wasn't going to be there to scold him when he came back for taking so damned long.

It saw something coming, no doubt knowing what her next move was going to do, even if it did not understand.

It spoke, for the first time in a long time from what she knew. It spoke in such a way that it would shatter her mentally and emotionally.

"132 million." It said… expectantly.

Taylor merely laughed, 132 million, 582 thousand, 523 hundred people, dead because of her. That was how many people that she had used up to draw this much energy into the batteries, how many who were destroyed as she activated her Arena, how many that were burning up even now as the batteries were depleted.

For Taylor of Earth Bet, it would have shattered her to know that she was the cause of such suffer, Taylor the Primarch however, was not Taylor of Earth Bet even if this universe persisted in thinking of her as such.

She admitted that she had given herself a facade that appeared to reality as that of Earth Bet, yet another card on the table… a weapon in her deck, but the real her, the her that had been created with the full cooperation of that child?

It was Primarch, the cold calculus of reality did not bend to emotional displays of sadness and anger.

She was Primarch.

And reality was knocking.

Smile baring itself into a grin with her teeth on full display, Taylor brought up the orb that contained the Butcher, charged with as much power as she could cram into it, so much so that it was near bursting.

Warping next to Scion right arm wrapping about his waist, the being just looked down at her, unable to comprehend just what she was about to do.

For her part she merely grinned softly before slamming 15% of the remaining battery power into the orb, overloading it with psykic energies.

It shattered, obviously.

In doing so the 1000 souls were torn apart, destroyed, turned into what was essentially scrap, never again to reincarnate.

A sacrifice that was necessary.

The Arena prevented it shattering the fabric of reality and opening another hole to the Immaterium, from tearing apart the souls of every single being on this planet and all worlds adjacent to it, but it did not prevent it from slamming Scion with enough energies that an arm and leg were torn off, the deadly energies too much for even it to prevent. The Warp did not use any physical forms of energy to deliver its payload, merely that of sheer power.

The physical damage was immense, the psykic damage even more so, the hammering of its mind had an effect, it had weakened it partly, enough for the bomb to do the rest. It shattered the being's mind.

Tore it apart, sundered it.

At least temporarily, enough that in turn… in turn, it would be able to take the being down for a few minutes, a few seconds, maybe even an instant.

Enough.

Magnus was upon the other side, he would know what to do.

Taylor felt herself tearing apart, she had a soul did she not? A mind? Her own was affected by the blast, shredded.

As she felt herself fading out of this reality, perhaps… perhaps even dying, she grinned. She had not defeated the creature, it was far too much for that.

But.

But at the very least she had hurt it.

Perhaps in the next life… if there was a next life she would have a better shot at it.

Feeling herself blinking in and out of consciousness, as the remnants of her psyche, her soul stubbornly clinging to life, refusing to allow her body to die, Taylor allowed herself to drift.

She didn't know just how much time had passed, just how… of anything there was.

Nothing.

Just… nothing.

Coming back into reality she looked up and could see it, Scion, the being.

It looked down at her from up close, a grimace of pain on its face… and… and was that satisfaction?

Ah.

It had caught her.

Hand raised, she saw the beam emerge, perhaps there was something about hyper awareness when you were about to die.

She allowed herself to relax.

For a brief moment there, she felt the being looking confused…

No matter.

And then there was darkness.

Magnus felt his sister's soul shred itself, felt her link to him waver before tenuously holding.

He allowed himself a roar of rage. She had carried through with her plan, the one he had forbidden her from doing. Was it not enough that she had mutilated herself? That she had taken it upon herself to cradle all of humanity in her arms regardless of the cost? They were mere humans, she a Primarch. There could be thousands of these worlds and it would not matter, he would not trade them for her.

But she had strode forth regardless.

Stupid girl.

But… in this case, it gave him the opening to do what would otherwise have been classified as madness.

Ripping power from the Warp he slammed it through back into the reality that she was in, and then finding the link that the being known as Scion possessed… smashed a hole into the reality behind it, following the link all the way back to the parent body.

And he found it.

It was still dazed, weak, tired.

Good.

He had time.

Ignoring his sister for the moment, drifting as she was in the darkness, he locked the coordinates and flashed himself back, back to the waiting regiments of the Guard, of his Space Marines, of the Mechanicus.

He looked at them. They looked back.

They had been briefed.

Fire everything.

"The Princess has bought us time. Now we make use of it. DESTROY."

And so they did.

They were arranged across a massive plateau, millions upon millions of them, lasguns, missiles, artillery and yet more.

As the portal opened above their heads, showing the vast planet sized eldritch abomination that had attacked this world, the forces of the Imperium opened fire.

Little surface damage… little.

That is until the Vortex missiles slammed into it, Vortex cannon shells, small missile launcher fired devices, to the enormous Macrocannons installed by the Mechanicus, firing the dread devices, courtesy of the Mechanicus upon New Mars.

And so the Entity itself was torn apart, the warp devouring it alive.

As for Magnus, he directed each portal with his newfound power, destroying the links that the individual shards had to each other, denying unto them forever the chance to call each other brother.

Separated and torn apart.

But not dead, for they were like the Endbringers, they would be made subservient just as he had made the great beasts serve.

The being squirmed, writhing about like a gargantuan worm as gouges in its bodies slowly became holes, holes becoming chasms, chasms becoming rifts.

Torn asunder.

It died then. It's soul shredded by the continuous assault of the Warp, assisted in no small part by Magnus.

It died.

If it could be considered living.

The only remnats of it left being that which was housed in the being known as Scion.

Then.

Then Magnus felt the link to his sister snap and he bellowed with rage.

Warping to her location, with a flick of his mind shattering the Arena and toppling the vast beings that she had created, he strode forth.

His sister… was gone.

Her body vaporised, her soul in tatters, losing coherency as he watched. Gathering it all, all the shreds to him, his left hand outstretched, Magnus beheld the being known as Scion.

Its main body was dead, but it's current body… that was very much alive.

It was human now, the vast mind that controlled it gone, it had a human mind and it was feeling very human emotions without anywhere to shunt them to.

It stared at him as he walked closer.

It tried to escape, yet there was nothing, he had bound it like a heretic to the incinerator.

Right hand forward, Magnus gave it one last grace.

"ANY LAST WORDS?"

It stared at him, panic in its eyes, the feeling of being lost, despair, hatred, anger, love, hope. All of the emotions it had been able to shunt, all the sensation that it had purposefully denied itself, boiling away in its mind. Locking it into a state of absolute terror as its mind battered against the confines it had been forced to confine itself to.

He stared back, his one remaining eye radiating light so great was his power, fresh from the bath that was the Warp.

"Futile. It is all futile." It said, its meaning as ambiguous as its existence.

Magnus laughed.

He laughed and laughed.

IT IS ALL FUTILE XENO

YET WE PERSIST

FOR WE ARE HUMANITY

And with that, he ripped its very soul from its body, its alien and now, much reduced and pitiful soul. He gazed down upon it, allowed it to see what was about to happen to it… and proceeded to tear it asunder, one little iota at a time.

It would have time to savour the pain.

He turned to his sister, what was left of her.

He did not know what he needed to do, he did not know what could be done.

…

Unless.

...

He warped himself to her side, the small pile of green organic matter that she had created to store her "weaker" self. Her more compassionate self.

Carefully introducing soul to cogitatored soul, the process one of such great finesse that he had doubts about his own ability… Magnus took a step back and waited.

They merged together, like newborn and soul, the imprisoned welcoming in its warden and holding it tight, wrapping around it like a mother welcoming home a wayward daughter.

The first step was a success... only… it was much more tattered than any soul should be.

It would take years, decades perhaps even centuries for her to return to her optimal state, one where she might be able to speak again.

If she could speak again.

No matter, he was Magnus the Red.

He was immortal.

He would be here when she woke up.

Her empire flourishing in her wake.

They would know of her sacrifice, he would make sure of it.

And when she woke, he would ensure that she learnt to facade as he did, she would not be anything less than perfect.

For he was Magnus, and he swore upon his name and nature.

...

And that is the end of the main story. Sides to come, maybe a week or 2 worth of them, then the epilogue, and a moratorium where I write out my thoughts on what I feel I've learnt writing the story, where it went, why it went and what happened.

For those wondering, this was indeed the ending that I was driving towards since I started writing this thread. It was always going to be there, but like travelling from one end of the continent to the other, your path is never quite clear. Roadblocks, diversions, emergency stops and more.

We didn't arrive in the manner that I thought we would, that I would have liked we would, but we have arrived and that is that.

For those that stuck around, thank you.

The mains are over, the desserts are coming.

Enjoy your stay.

George12

Dec 28, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 47 Thousand Sons Pt 1

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George12

OAMU

Dec 30, 2016

#708

Veteran Sergeant Mak'asin stood in the middle of the that was called Brockton Bay.

He was not sure why it was called Brockton Bay, it was not as if it had any significance, his search on what they had called the "world wide web" had done nothing to explain away the meaning.

Even if the official story was that it was named after some kind of pioneer or something, Mak'asin did not buy that story in the slightest. What kind of luxury did these people have that they named their cities after people? Where was the uplifting motivational names like Triumph City, or Victory Bay, or City of the Soul Crushers?

No. He was sure that it had some kind of secret behind it and he was going to be finding it out if he had to go on foot.

One learnt very early on after all that information did not come to you, rather if information did come to you, shoot it in the face, then shoot it in the balls and then crush it beneath your feet. Life was never easy for the Thousand Sons.

82 times.

82 times in their history had they been reduced down to 1000 Space Marines.

They were a Legion from the period of the Great Crusade yet they suffered losses disproportionate of that compared to the other Legions.

Sometimes Mak'asin wondered if the galaxy had something out for the Thousand Sons, it was not as if they had done anything to annoy things… did they?

Granted they ransacked libraries of lost worlds, taking every tome and piece of parchment back to their homeworld of Prospero to be catalogued and read with shaking and careful fingers. Every piece of knowledge would be inscribed onto their hearts from every source.

For knowledge was power.

They also went and burnt worlds to the ground because they didn't want to give up their books but that wasn't so bad was it? The Smelly Wolf People drank and pissed all over the street lamps and nobody seemed to care about that. Nooooo it was all about the taking the books and stealing the knowledge. Did they even understand what it was they were trying to read? An idiot who could barely grow his own food trying to understand 7th Dimensional Physics?

Bah.

Pull his other leg, the one that wasn't bionic since it would fall off if you did that.

Part of their initiation rites as that a Space Marine Neophyte would need to memorize a book in its entirety before writing it out in perfect font and text. Only New Times Roman was accepted, an obscure font that had been recovered by Magnar himself on an expedition out beyond the rim of the Astronomicon itself. He had come back with a box labelled "fonts", of which there was the Comic Sans which occupied a special place in Mak'asin's heart.

The others could not accept that it was the perfect font and many a non-violent crusade had been waged in its honour. He would not allow for it to be besmirched by any of the others, they who had no comprehension of beauty or art.

Weaklings.

Failures.

Regardless of his personal feelings as to the rest of his Legion/Chapter/Company (depending on what size it was today) Mak'asin was here on a quest of knowledge, dispatched alongside that of his brothers to seek out more fonts of knowledge, to enrich their minds, to become one with the information.

And what information there was.

Mak'asin was currently inside of what they called a "library", it was not a Librarium… nor did it have any Space Marine Psykers as he had expected when he walked inside. He had thought there would be one, one that would assist him in his search for knowledge, they were those entrusted with only the most obscure of knowledge and the greatest of interrogation techniques available to their legion, that which was named "historiography".

But alas there was no Librarian, no familiar sight of the psykic hood to allay his slight concern of being on his own inside a foreign city of a foreign world of a foreign galaxy of a foreign universe.

Regardless he was a Space Marine, the child of Magnus the Red, of the lineage of the Emperor of Mankind, he would not falter here.

No, he was Space Marine. He was fear incarnate, he did not fear the unknown.

The unknown feared him.

For it knew he would make it known, that he would reach into parts it never knew it had and rip out all of its information piece by piece and then categorize it and then display it as a monument to his latest excursion into the Void.

No. He would not be afraid.

Mak'asin took a deep breath.

No, he was not. He would do this.

Brushing aside his social anxiety as passed down to him by his Patriarch, Mak'asin walked forth confidently to the… desk? The wooden furniture that the human was walking behind, the plaque before her telling him very confidently in Calibri text that this was the receptionist.

He did not know what was receptionist was, but no doubt she was important and had information of some kind that she could share with him.

She was looking up at him with wide eyes but that was perfectly normal.

He was Space Marine, she was puny human.

He did cut a rather imposing figure he knew, it was hammered into them by the Sojourners, or those that had been seconded to the Sojourners. Space Marines were large and loud, it was best to try to at least show some kind of concern since regular humans were afraid of both things.

That and Power armour could crush their puny skulls with a slight flexing of the fist.

Not that he had ever done that to an Imperial citizen in his centuries of service.

No, he was much better than that.

He only crushed the skulls of heretics.

Regardless of his skull crushing abilities, Mak'asin walked forth confidently. The whine of the servos that powered his armour masked the slight shaking of his legs quite well.

Very well actually, he had thought that without Power Armour their Legion would have a very different reputation when it came down to it.

No matter. He was here now. The woman was before him.

He would have his answers.

"Good morning citizen!" He said.

Before forgetting that his helmet was on.

Woops.

This was not meant to have happened. The helmet contained a Vox caster and it automatically amplified his voice. Something she was feeling very intimately if her expression was any indication. The way she was leaning backwards as if blown away by a particularly strong wind was another.

Woops.

He took off his helmet, unsealing the clamps at the base that held it to his neck and cradling it in one arm, Mak'asin looked down at the seated mortal and tried to smile. Judging from her expression he had not succeeded.

Regardless, he could say that he had tried. That was important.

One did not improve unless one practised.

"Good morning mortal. How are we this day?" He said, attempting to sound as polite as possible. She would not appreciate his straightforward demands he was sure. Mortals very often did not.

"Ummm. Good. Can I help you?" She said, looking at him apprehensively.

Mak'asin nodded to her, it seemed that she was not going to be beating around the bush as it were.

Interesting.

Useful.

"Yes, you may. I find myself on a quest to discover just how the name for this city came to be. By the order of my Primarch, I must seek this answer for myself in physical media as your 'world wide web' as it was called. The unreliability of electronic information has me wary of trusting your sources as I am sure you can understand, you being a record keeper yourself. Everything that is not a plant by the Mechanicus is a plant by the Inquisition, trust nothing." He said, nodding to himself.

"Ummm. Yes. I can help you. Would you like me to direct you to the shelf?" She asked, smiling at him.

"Yes, you may. What is your designation mortal, I shall have to commend your overseer." Mak'asin said, nodding again.

"Thank you?" She asked, looking confused. He was not sure why it was so, he was giving her an honest commendation for her abilities, his word as a Space Marine held great weight, this he knew.

"It is no matter. Now then. Please explain to me the system by which you categorize and manage your records. It will be of great use for my own studies." Mak'asin jerked his head at the books that were on the shelves. Much smaller than that of the ones that were present on Prospero, but expecting this world to have the same level of information as Prospero was a fool's errand.

Now that he thought about it, it was certainly something that they should be commended for, it was as impressive effort to gather this much knowledge given their primitiveness. They were using light of all things if he understood to research such matters as that of their own local system.

Their quest for knowledge was impressive. For a Space Marine, his appreciation of their own determination was something that spoke volumes to any who heard it. For he was a Space Marine and his opinion was known for destroying the reputation of Planetary Governors should they prove themselves incompetent and unworthy of their station.

Random thoughts aside, Mak'asin nodded at the young woman, "what is your name mortal?", he asked.

"I am called Rebecca." She said, sounding delightfully human.

He had forgotten what the other gender sounded like he thought, perhaps being on Prospero for the last 100 years had not been something that was conducive to his social skills which in turn were deteriorating along the same manner in which his combat skills were.

Something to consider, perhaps he would be able to conduct a longitudinal study regarding the effects of being around normal humans for an extended period of time.

It was… perhaps not something that was new.

Mak'asin thought about the situation for a period of time before considering that if he did a study of a Space Marine's changing mentality over a longer period of time while immersed in a world full of non Imperial humans... then it would be something that he would be able offer to the Captain as new research.

Competition was naturally rather vicious when it came to new research, but for now, he was one of ten or so Thousand Sons here upon this world and so he was naturally in a position to present his proposal to the Primarch without competition.

As his thoughts were being filled with the possibilities of grand research, Mak'asin temporarily forgot to pay attention to the mortal, a thought that occurred to him as he looked back down at her and thought that it would be best if he did not make a fool of himself.

"Apologies Rebecca. I was temporarily lost in my own thoughts. Please, where is the location of these books so that I might be able to carry out my own research?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Ummm… please just follow me. I'll direct you to the books you want." She said, bobbing her head.

"Agreeable. Lead the way mortal for we have research that is in need of doing!" He cried out. Or rather he said it out loud, he was not so crass as to deafen the ears of those around him in a place so sacrosanct as a records archive.

He had so much to do, he had so much that he could do and the world was open to him, like a Genestealer that had been knocked upside down.

It would not be particularly difficult for him to come along and… do something… fun with it all (involving blades and screaming and a chainsword at some point), but it would certainly be enjoyable in the meantime.

Or not.

Mak'asin pulled his thoughts back, it would not do for him to go temporarily insane as a result of what was happening. It was a curse of the Legion, that of the manner in which knowledge caused them to go… slightly insane over time.

It would be best if they were to moderate themselves… but to have so much of it before their eyes… it was something that was impossible to pass up, impossible to avoid.

More and more.

Mak'asin shook his head as he followed after the mortal named Rebecca. He did not wish to show their curse to the mortal.

The curse of their desire for knowledge, not the curse that had them mutate horribly into Warp Beasts.

That was a different and slightly worse curse.

George12

Dec 30, 2016

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Threadmarks Interlude 48 Thousand Sons Pt 2

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George12

OAMU

Dec 30, 2016

#709

Mak'asin stood tall.

Or rather he crouched tall.

Blasted human sized bookshelves.

He was having the hardest of times attempting to actually read anything at all.

He was reaching the end of his tether and very soon he would unleash his rage upon the world at large. It would dare deny him his books?

It would dare hide knowledge away from him?

Did it not know what he was?

He was Space Marine, he was the Emperor's fist, the scalpel by which the Emperor excised his enemies from existence.

And this mere world dared to stand against him?

Mak'asin was not aware that he was growling until a timid little squeak to his right alerted him to the trance he had been in. Muttering a quiet Litany of Penitence, he felt the natural depressants fill his system and others still to cancel out the adrenaline that was pumping about.

It would not do for him to accidentally destroy a city or anything of the like. He was a Space Marine and he was capable of many things, destroying cities being one of them. He was a Veteran Sergeant, if there was anything in the Imperium that he did not know how to destroy, he had never met it before.

And that was saying something, in his years of service, centuries really, he had torn his way through all of the Emperor's enemies.

This was not the time for reminiscing however, he had a civilian that desired his attention.

As a super human, a post human genetic specimen of perfection, it was only right that he pay attention to her, he would live 5 lives for every single one that she did.

A matter of her fragility and weakness of form, mortals were so very… soft.

He was functionally immortal, his cells did not degrade, the Emperor's mercy denied them that mercy. No, he would die in combat rather than in front of a book and he understood this. Just as he understood that the woman in front of him was looking rather worried and he would be remiss of his duties if he did not alleviate such fears.

"What is it mortal?" He said.

Wincing slightly.

He had meant to speak in a much… nicer tone of voice but she was very much a potential threat. The way she was looking at him naturally brought up his hackles, it was much the same way that his own Sergeant used to look at him when he was being loud in the vault of knowledge as a neophyte.

It appeared that record keepers everywhere learned from the same cosmic source that was their powers.

"Umm. Why are you growling?" She asked, "is there anything not to your liking?"

"Yes, human. There is much that is not to my liking." Mak'asin said, turning to face her fully bringing forth his gauntlet encased hand before her face.

"Do you see this mortal?" He asked, waving his hand in front of her.

She looked rather afraid, but there was nothing he could do about that, it was not as if it were his fault his hands were larger than her face. Or rather than fear… it looked to be irritation. Record keepers truly knew no fear in the face of puny humans, not when their books were in danger.

"Yes?"

"This is my hand. Now how did you expect me to read your works when I cannot physically reach and pick the book I wish to pick?" He asked, indignation in his voice.

"Pardon… oh. oOoooh. I'm sorry. Very sorry. Which book did you wish to read? I'll take it out for you." She said in a very soothing display of willingness to assist with his search for knowledge. She understood his frustrations, this was good.

"Thank you, mortal. You do a service to your entire Order." Mak'asin said sincerely as he read off the titles that he had wished to read.

"Let us adjourn to your table so that you might do your duties while assisting me with mine." He said, leading the way.

Mak'asin looked at the ground and noticed that his bulk was actually compressing the ground underneath him. This… fluffy floor covering was truly fragile, he would need to alert the designers of this place that their floor coverings were not rated as Space Marine proof.

As he stood in front of the pile of books Mak'asin came across yet another problem.

A very large one that was consuming all of his attention.

He had the books. Just what was he supposed to do with them?

His power armour encased fingers refused to turn the pages. They were far too large.

It was not as if he could simply take off the gauntlet, it was screwed into place by Servitor and Serf, no mere human would be able to remove it.

Frowning mightily, Mak'asin was about to crush something… not the books… but something.

Perhaps the desk…

He was seriously considering it until the helpful mortal, (Rebecca her name was) assisted him and proved that she was indeed a credit to her Order by turning the pages for him.

Truly she deserved a commendation for this, assisting him with his attempts at discovering more information, a duty given to him by his Primarch in person.

He would not fail!

"You have my thanks, human. Who is your regional commander, I shall put in a good word for you personally!" Mak'asin said.

Never let it be said that the Thousand Sons were ungenerous to those that assisted them in their sacred duty.

"Umm. That is okay, you don't need to do that." She stammered out.

"Nonsense, you are proving to be the very soul of a Chapter Serf, you do a credit to your Order." He said, reading through the front page of the book. Cities of the East Coast, a History.

Strange.

There was only 2 pages on Brockton Bay itself, it said so on the index page.

What was this travesty? It was the home of two Primarchs.

Two!

Why was it that they only had 2 pages, did the humans of this world not consider the Primarchs important, was this some kind of insult?

Or Perhaps…

"Mortal, what date was this published on?" He asked.

He was a Veteran Sergeant, he had many tools at his disposal to judge the worth of a font of knowledge unlike that of his younger brethren.

"1985," She said, making a show of flipping the pages herself to find the small print on the front cover.

"What year is that in Imperial Standard?" Mak'asin asked, what use was a 1985 to him? This planet couldn't have been in the Imperial fold for 8000 years and still be this primitive. Perhaps, ah.

It was a recent compliance after all.

"I… I don't know." She said looking worried.

He was disappointed but he understood, it was only a matter of months that the Imperium had been here, not enough time certainly to allow for the transition. He would need to work it out for himself, taking a pad from a small pocket on the outside of his armour, Mak'asin prepared to write out the mathematics of the differences.

A few thousand years certainly, but the different starting points would need to worked out, comparisons to different events, maybe he would need to do this arbitrarily?

"What is current year Mortal?" He asked.

"2011."

Hmm… perhaps he would not need to attempt to work it out the hard way after all.

Simple subtraction and… it was quite some time ago.

He had forgotten and… carry the one? Was this how it worked?

He would not be stymied! Who would have known such a devious trap would be in place to catch out those who were unaware. To have kept knowledge of such arcane mysteries long since forgotten… a quick fiddling with the basic cogitator of his eyepiece and yes.

It was 26 years ago. It was not cheating, it was merely using all the tools at his disposal.

"A more recent book mortal." He said, "please," the addition of the phrase hammered into his head by those that were trying to assist their brothers integrate into society better… or something. Things being easier in the long run if you did not make enemies of everyone you came across or something.

"Ah! My Lord. I was not aware that you were here. I'm sorry for intruding, please allow us to get out of your way." Ah. Guardsmen. Three of them from the Praetorian Regiments. Interesting, he had seen them about the city but for them to come unbidden into a repository of knowledge? That was something that he had not considered that they would be doing.

Interesting.

"Stay Guardsmen. What is so interesting that you are inside this place?" He asked of them, looking down at them.

Physically that is, he did not begrudge any who would seek to expand their own knowledge in their own time, it was something that was to be commended, not something to be laughed at.

Even if they were Guardsmen who were very likely going to be doing something… dangerous with it.

He had seen many of their like before applying their knowledge on the battlefield, only they did it poorly and ended up destroying much more than they actually protected.

They who were short lived tended to be more destructive, it was known.

Regardless, it was knowledge and it would not do to keep it hidden, it was to be shared unless it was Legion secrets.

"Ummm… well, you see my Lord. The Repositories are operating under Imperial Law for now… and… well… they have all the works that are free to exist under Imperial Law." The Guardsman said, averting his eyes.

"You do not need to feel so embarrassed that you are seeking out knowledge Guardsman. I am a Thousand Sons Space Marine, I applaud your efforts in enriching your minds. Come come. We shall see what this information is that you seek together. My own research can be put on hold. Mortal named Rebecca, please guide us." Mak'asin said, patting the Guardsman on the back.

Gently, of course, he did not wish to crush him beneath the might of his Power Armour enhanced strength and kill the man. It would be particularly embarrassing for a Space Marine to show such a lack of control over their own strength, especially one of his rank.

'"Sirs. How may I help you?" She asked, looking at the very sharply dressed Guardsmen.

"Umm… you see… we're… we're looking for the adult section he whispered to her." The Guardsman looked particularly embarrassed at that. Mak'asin did not understand why he was whispering, it was not as if it would be able to avoid his ears, they were of a Space Marine after all and they were ears that were more than capable of hearing the heartbeat of a particularly small rodent, let alone the comparatively huge booms of human speech.

Regardless the Guardsman wished to speak quietly and he would respect that, it was not as if he would not be joining him as he sought out this particularly deposit of knowledge together.

Adult knowledge? That would no doubt be very interesting indeed.

He wondered what would be inside of it. The secrets of the world perhaps?

He did not know, but he was very much worried that they might be pulling out something that was occult knowledge or something as equally dangerous.

He would need to come along with them to ensure that nothing went catastrophically wrong. He was here to assist them and he would do it with force as necessary.

Rebecca, the very useful and useful human being, that was also the record keeper stood up and moved to assist the guard to find their objective. She was indeed someone that was very useful indeed.

"My Lord, I do not think this is something that your greatness would be interested in." Said one of the Guardsmen, looking rather worried.

Mak'asin looked at him rather worriedly, was he attempting to do something that was illegal under Imperial Law?

He set his shoulders, he would protect if necessary.

From themselves if nobody else.

"Nonsense Guardsman. All knowledge is good knowledge. Now, let us be off." Mak'asin said.

Gesturing for the record keeper to lead the way Mak'asin followed along, his gait slow to match that of the shorter Guardsmen.

As they walked down the Archives, Mak'asin was slightly worried, what was this? They were walking into a separate section entirely? Was this some kind of secret repository that he should have known about?

"Here it is." She said, looking as if she were rather hot, her cheeks red. A concern, did she have a fever? Mortals were notoriously fragile he remembered.

"Rebecca, please make sure to take your medicae prescribed medications. If you were to fall sick it would be a shame." He said, making sure to show his concern. He couldn't allow for his newest guide to disappear somewhere else after all.

"Now then. What is it that has you so worked up Guardsman?"

"Umm… this My Lord." He said, holding out one of the books with its pages wide open.

…

"Human anatomy? Did you not learn this in basic training Guardsman? I will need to talk to your Commissar about this dereliction of duty."