AN: a summary of the Interstellar Solar Technocracy in Stellaris terms; their ethics are authoritarian, fanatic materialist, militarist, and cooperative (from a mod.) Their civics are Technocracy (obviously,) Forced Re-education (modded,) diplomatic corps, nationalistic zeal, and creative testing (modded) with the Imperial government type. They also took the Engineered Evolution ascension perk, but also the Mind Over Matter ascension perk soon for this fic
Also, they're as arrogant or even more so than the Eldar lmao
"Humans might be one of the most encouraging, friendly, and intelligent species in the galaxy. They might also be one of the most wrathful, vengeful, and arrogant species as well." - Hesukari biologist Zephyrion Elaraen, On the Lifeforms of the Galaxy
ITS Dominion medical ward, morgue, Segmentum Ultima, 布拉沃区 (Bravo Sector,) 银河系东部 (Eastern Galactic Expanse)
Victor stood in the center of the Dominion's main morgue, gazing at the bodies and equipment encircling him. Six hundred and twenty troops perished during the defense of Asheria, half of them were now housed here, awaiting burial. He sighed, but not out of sadness, for that was a foreign emotion to him. Rather, he sighed at the thought of useful resources going to waste. Not the manpower, mind you, the Technocracy has more than enough humans to recoup the losses, hell, the Dominion even has specialized cloning vats in the event of ground warfare exhausting the Titan's contingent of three hundred thousand Punitive Corps, but rather, the material wastage. All of the bodies still had nanites in their blood, all trying desperately to protect a corpse, all wasted in doing so. He closed his eyes, placed his elbows at his side, and his hands at chest height, and focused. Almost immediately, an orb formed between his hands, dark blue, and hovered in place. The palms of his hands glowed red as well, indicating that the augments in his hands were working.
It may seem like magic, but technology was solely responsible for this. Victor, like any other individual extensively infused with nanites, received augmentations into their body during the infusion process, one of them being a pair of electromagnets in both hands. They work by creating a magnetic field between an individual's hands or equivalent appendage, propelling some of the dormant nanites in their body out of the hands via skin pores, then either enabling the individual to manipulate any metallic objects at the molecular level, magnetically attract or repel objects, or like Victor, make an orb of nanites hover in front of them. This has no practical purpose, but admirals and generals often use it as a calming activity.
As he did this, he did not feel himself getting calm or relaxed. He instead felt like there was something or someone else in the room with him, which should be impossible since the only other people with him were corpses. A sharp pain in the back of his head nearly doubled him over, which was also impossible since the nanites in his body made it impossible. It could also be... no. Impossible.
Mortal, a painfully familiar voice shouted in his mind, a cacophony of voices, each shouting over the other to be heard. Victor realized it belonged to the horror he saw in his dream some time ago but thought he was rid of the being. Did you forget about me, mortal? About our deal? If I had a heart, it would be broken.
Victor took a deep breath and steadied himself.
My answer has not changed, he thought back to the entity. I want nothing to do with you, nor do I care for your power.
We both know that's a lie, mortal. I can sense it within you; you're very curious about me, my master, and the Immaterium. Is that what you want? To know? I can give it to you, you only need to surrender your fleet to my master.
No.
Victor felt the entity chuckle.
I do love your resistance, but we both know you can only keep it up for so long. The question is, how long? Is that why you bothered to help the Eldar? Do you think their dying race can be saved? With what, I ask you? Your technology? Your tenacity?
I do not know you, or your goals, except that you yanked me from my dreams. Why should I listen?
Oh, but I know all about you, mortal. You were born on a cold mining planet, to loving parents, to the face of an adoring sister, and a protective but equally loving brother.
Victor remained stoic, memories long suppressed threatened to re-emerge and consume him.
Your brother, captain of a mighty ship, killed in combat against your "Technocracy's" mortal foe; faith.
Shut. Up.
The rest of your family, burned in an explosion of fire and light, while you were overseeing the mines for an empire that probably never cares whether you live or die.
The muscles of Victor's fingers tensed, his will not weakening for a moment. He ignored the taunts, for let the entity speak all the words it wanted, as long as it wasn't blood and flesh, it could pose no threat to him.
You joined the military not long after and ascended to "godhood" even though you are nowhere near the sort.
The smooth surface of the nanite orb floating between his hands changed to one of small pits.
Is this why you ally yourself with the Eldar? Do you wish to atone for your past? To have a family you were powerless to save? You tried your whole life to change the fate of others, yet you were never successful in any attempt.
SHUT. UP! Victor thought in a mental rage, his face twisted in an expression of determination and sheer hatred. The entity, unfazed, continued.
Your empire cares little about you, mortal. You are nothing more than a round in a firearm, your abilities the bullet, and the rest of you the casing. When your usefulness ends, they will dispose of you all the same. You are worth so much more, can become so much more, and deserve so much more, yet you willingly submit to those who would dispose of you like refuse.
That may be so, but at least their motives are clear and understandable. Unlike yours.
Victor felt a rhythmic pulsing in his mind, akin to a form of laughter.
My master could elevate you far beyond your position, towards where you should be; ruling over your empire's fleets, not merely commanding one. Do not lie to yourself, mortal, as much as you lie to yourself about how content you are, you yearn for more.
I ask you again; why should I trust any word you utter?
Because I know you better than you know yourself. I am akin to a childhood friend, a sibling, even. I am merely revealing the desires you so desperately try to subdue.
By all means, please reveal my desire for you to leave my mind. Ignoring him, the entity continued.
My master knows others of your kind are probing the Immaterium, like how your kind once probed the deep oceans of Earth. The hubris of your kind knows no bounds, I can respect that. But either way, willing or not, my offer still stands, mortal.
Realizing that he was getting nowhere, Victor forced the orb of nanites in front of him back into his body, each hand reabsorbing half of the orb. Instantly, the voice ceased, and calm returned to his mind.
Getting his bearings, he refocused on the task at hand; repurposing the still usable nanites for the greater good and by the greater good, he meant himself. Taking another deep breath, he squeezed his hands into fists, the implants in his hands glowing red yet again, this time with the nanites forming rings around his clenched hands. The electromagnets in this configuration attracted loose nanites, either Victor's own or other loose nanites, like the ones in the corpses surrounding him. Indeed, as Victor clenched his fists harder, more and more nanites were expelled from the corpses, and even from the weapons, their AIs screaming in agony as they were disassembled and essentially killed. One may think of this as inhumane, but since the AIs were in weapons that were used by dead soldiers, that means they failed in their tasks and their nanites were better repurposed elsewhere.
After a few more moments of synthetic screeching later, the room went silent as Victor finished repurposing his nanites with the nanites he siphoned off. Taking yet another deep breath, he unclenched his fists and the lights in his palms faded then went out.
"Admiral," a voice interrupted his thoughts. "We are receiving a hail from one of Asheria's ships."
"What do they want?" He asked, becoming much more interested.
"Farseers Elathana and Caennyl are requesting to meet you, and they aren't taking 'no' for an answer."
Victor sighed. Although he wasn't one to deny members of such a majestic race, they could be demanding at times.
"Direct them to a quiet hanger bay, no need to annoy them further."
"Yes, sir. They'll be arriving in Hanger Bay 6."
Sighing again, he fixed his uniform before leaving the morgue, mind fixated on his conversation with the entity.
ITS Dominion hanger bay 6
Moving at a light jog and his nanites removing the dark spots under his eyes that appeared as a result of his mental conversation with the entity, Victor arrived at the hanger bay just as both farseers stepped out of their ship along with their contingent of guards. He hoped that his mind did not wander towards his encounter lest they grow suspicious. The last thing he needed was to let them know he was compromised by something.
"Farseers," he said quickly, trying to hide the unease of his experience in the morgue. "Apologies for the rush, I would've cleaned up the place if I knew you were coming."
Caennyl looked around the near-empty hanger bay, the sterile black and red color only broken by the golden Technocracy emblem. Compared to the craftworld, it was hopelessly dull in comparison. A hint of disinterest crossed his face but he didn't want the human to see it.
"Not like there's much to prepare in this dreary place, anyways," he said. "Are you not disturbed by your lack of aesthetics?"
Victor chuckled, as much as he could after his encounter with the entity. "This is a hanger bay, not an art exhibit. Aesthetics would only impede efficiency."
Seeing the unimpressed look of Caennyl and the pitying one of Elathana, he quickly changed the topic.
"So then, is this just a friendly visit, or is there something more to this?" He asked.
"You said that your forces took many of our wounded into your care. We wish to repatriate them, as our medical technology far surpasses yours and whatever treatment they received in your presence," Caennyl stated.
"Of course, Farseer. Please, follow me," Victor said before turning and walking away. The two farseers were led by him through the Dominion, passing by numerous other staff and crew members who barely gave them a second glance, likely thinking the farseers were members of the Hesukari crew. He silently thanked the Technocracy for their diverse alien demographics, as the last thing he wanted was one of the crew to insult either farseer's ego and clean up the resulting mess. As the trio walked, his mind wandered back to his conversation with the entity and their words.
Did whatever was in my head have a point? he thought to himself. Knowledge is power, humanity must advance at all costs after all. No, no. We will unravel the universe by ourselves, and we will never stoop so low as to-
"Human," Elathana said, bringing Victor back to the present. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh, uh, no, nothing's wrong, farseer," he lied through his teeth. "Just, uh, didn't sleep well last cycle. Anyways, we're almost there." The farseer knew he wasn't telling the truth, but didn't bother to push it further.
After a couple more minutes of walking, they finally reached the medical bay where the survivors and recovered captives from Asheria were being treated, Victor having entered first, much to the surprise of the head nurse.
"A-Admiral, sir," they stammered out, evidently not expecting any visitors. "Is something wrong?"
Ignoring the nurse's evident discomfort, Victor cut straight to the point. "Are the patients prepared for transport?"
"Y-yes, sir, but I don't understand..." The nurse's voice died in their throat as they saw the two farseers looming in the doorway, their eyes sharing the same impatience as the admiral. "Y-yes sir, they're ready for transport at your command, sir."
Victor turned to face Caennyl. "Well? Your companion should be here somewhere. Do you want to talk to him for a moment, or shall I prepare everyone for transport?"
"I wish to speak with Fueriel for a moment," the farseer responded. "Prepare the others for transport."
"You heard him," Victor said to the trembling nurse, who quickly tapped on their holo-tablet and directed them to the room where the Fleet Admiral was recovering, only to find him passed out.
Victor turned to the nurse, patience reaching his limit. "Why is he unconscious? I thought you said everyone was ready for transport."
"Well, we placed him in a medical coma," the nurse began. "And you never told us that they would be moved so suddenly-"
"Does every word that comes out of your mouth involve an excuse?" The admiral asked loudly, causing both farseers to wince at the noise. "Whenever I ask anything of you, it's always, 'Not yet, sir,' or 'We can't, sir.' If you were born pre-unification, the Technocracy wouldn't even exist!" The nurse then rushed through the protocols that would bring Fueriel back to consciousness, all while enduring the glares from both Victor and both farseers.
He shot them a pleading look, to which they rolled their eyes. Ironically, to Victor, the Aeldari were a bunch of children who let idleness consume their lives, decadence that led to a stagnation of technology, which was anathema to the Technocracy's policies of non-stop advancement and delving into so-called forbidden knowledge. The fact that they predated humanity by millions of years was irrelevant, they needed to be led back on the right path, extinction be damned, for it would be better to die with reason and knowledge than to live in ignorance and cowardice. Many would call the Technocracy's path of thought to be too stiff, unmalleable, and ultimately futile, but it had gotten humanity into essentially a golden age, so they must've done something right. After a few tense minutes, the nurse spoke back up.
"Well, he should be waking up now," they said, nervousness still present in their voice.
"Good, now leave us," Victor said, calming down slightly. With that, the personnel in the room rushed out, leaving only the admiral and the farseers present.
He then turned to Elathana in an attempt to make small talk, both to try to get on her good side and to take his mind off of his conversation with the entity, since he knew that the more he thought about the Shroud, the more obsessed he would be with rationalizing the irrational, which would best be saved for specialized individuals. Still, strange occurrences were occurring regularly, not only on the Dominion and the rest of the fleet but on Earth and many other Technocracy planets as well. Strange figures appeared in the corners of people's visions, disembodied voices, and ethereal humanoid figures that were sighted by many others, but due to no one getting hurt from these occurrences, the Technocracy hasn't bothered to investigate further. Shrouded Mind Syndrome diagnoses had also not increased, but hadn't decreased either, maintaining a steady balance of 11% afflicted. He had tasked Imperial Research Overseer Song to lead a study into this phenomenon and the Shroud as a whole, but he hasn't heard back from her. Victor assumed that they were making progress even though no progress reports were made.
"Seems familiar, doesn't it, Elathana?" He remarked, referencing the first time the two met. "Not long ago, you were on the other side of this glass, remember?" She had been bleeding out on Illiad III, to which he and fourteen Punitive Corps members came in and saved the day.
"...yes," the farseer replied with an embarrassed tone, not wanting to admit that she would've died if the admiral hadn't arrived in time.
"So you'll vouch for me when he inevitably starts berating me and calling me slurs?" Victor jokingly asked while placing his hand over his heart dramatically. "To endure such... uncivilized talk, my poor heart couldn't take it."
Caennyl scoffed while Elathana's face turned red.
"You have an... unusual way of making introductions, human," Caennyl said dryly.
"Not my fault she was in that Imperium base, bleeding out, on the verge of death."
An embarrassed groan from Elathana caused Victor to laugh. The amount of restraint that the farseer had not to admit that a lesser species saved her life was hilarious, and add to the fact that this was the second time that he had to save one of their kind and the fact that he was a head taller than both farseers made it even more funny in his opinion.
Fueriel groggily blinked, coming to from what was to him an especially long slumber. The last thing he remembered was his abdomen being slashed open by a kabalite's blade and the overwhelming sensation of pain and agony before he passed out. He knew he wasn't on the craftworld, but the hardness of the mattress he was lying on proved that to him. His vision finally cleared, he saw the black and red colors and instantly groaned. He was in the mon'keigh's ship in some medical bay. Looking to his left, he saw farseers Caennyl and Elathana looking at him with some concern, while the mon'keigh admiral was to his right, grinning like a gyrinx, making him groan again.
"Well?" the mon'keigh asked, still grinning. "How is our honored guest doing?"
"I am... alive," Fueriel replied weakly. "Which was more than... I expected from your kind." This a laugh from the mon'keigh.
"See? I told you we were different than those Imperium brutes."
"That is painfully evident," the Fleet Admiral said as he tried to sit up, grunting as he did so. Despite the mon'keigh having healed his wounds, to be saved by such a primitive race, it was borderline insulting.
"Look on the bright side, you're going home soon," the mon'keigh's grin did not falter. "I'll let you chat with these two," they said as they left.
With the mon'keigh now gone, Fueriel turned his head to face Caennyl.
"Seriously, farseer," he began. "What do you see in the mon'keigh that makes you tolerate him for as long as you have?"
"The human saved Elathana and your life, for one," Caennyl replied, his tone carrying a hint of conviction. "His fleet didn't immediately attack the craftworld, and he even helped save it against our dark kin." He glanced towards Elathana and sighed. "And the level of respect he has shown has been... unprecedented for his kind."
Fueriel groaned again.
"Isha preserve me, must I suffer indebtment to this primitive?"
"You don't have to be," the mon'keigh nonchalantly said from outside. "I mean, if you want to, I wouldn't complain..."
"Have you no shame?!"
"You're the one who brought it up!"
Both farseers glared at the closed door.
"Anyways," Elathana said. "Despite the human's... pretentious attitude, there is honesty hidden within his words, even if it's buried under countless layers of grandiosity."
The mon'keigh re-entered the room.
"Oh don't look so unhappy, 我的小精灵, (my little elf,)" he laughed. "You're going home soon."
"What did you just call me, mon'keigh?" Fueriel incredulously asked.
"Nothing you should be concerned with. What you should be concerned with, is the fact that you're leaving here! Aren't you glad?" He patted his shoulder.
The only response out of the bedridden Eldar was a defeated groan, to which Caennyl smirked and Elathana tried not to laugh.
A couple of minutes later, after a grumbling Fueriel had been escorted away by human nurses to the hangar bay – much to his further dismay, an amusement that Victor couldn't help but laugh at – he found himself in the hallway with the farseers. As they walked, Victor engaged in conversation with the pair, their expressions a mix of curiosity and reserve.
"...so yeah, if you two have no duties to, feel free to explore my ship."
"And why would we be interested in that?" Caennyl asked with skepticism and curiosity.
Victor grinned, his stride full of confidence and excitement. "Well, it's not every day you get to tour a ship of another dimension's humanity, I'll think you'll find it... enlightening."
"Wait, did you say-"
"It's a long story, Caennyl," Elathana interjected while shooting Victor with a knowing look.
"For one, I can tell you that our FTL method is significantly safer from what you tell me about the Imperium, for we use hyperlanes, which we discovered in the 2nd millennium."
Caennyl looked at him in confusion. "What's a hyperlane?"
Victor pursed his lips, his mind searching for a comparison for the galactic web that was the hyperlane system. "Imagine the cloth your robe is made from," he began, gesturing to the farseer's robes. "The cloth has weaving threads that form it. Now imagine the hyperlane system as the thread and the galaxy as the fabric."
"So these 'threads' are pathways that connect the entire galaxy?"
"Correct. We do not know how they're formed, whether by an advanced alien race or were present soon after the big bang, but our very educated guess is that the gravitational waves of stars are 'folded' into a travellable corridor that is capable of sending us faster than light."
"And you said your kind discovered it in when?"
"The second millennium, more specifically the year 2198. It was so easy to detect; I'm genuinely surprised your people never discovered it."
Seeing the look on the faces of the two farseers, Victor quickly changed the subject to something more mundane. As the trio talked, a pair of Punitive Corps soldiers came up to them, but unlike other soldiers, these were sentient AI soldiers, or synths as they're commonly called. Unlike some star empires, the Technocracy embraced AI very early on in their development, and as such, sentient AI individuals are entitled to the same rights and responsibilities as normal citizens. This also means that synths are part of the armed forces, whether it be in the Planetary Guard or Punitive Corps, like the individuals walking towards the pair.
"ADMIRAL," one of the pair said, startling the two farseers. "THIS UNIT REPORTS THAT PRISONERS OF WAR HAVE BEEN SUCCESSFULLY SUBDUED AND AWAIT YOUR FURTHER COMMANDS. ORGANIC SCIENTIFIC UNITS ARE ON STANDBY AND ARE AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS." The synth then slowly turned its head to Elathana and Caennyl and cocked it. "CURIOUS. THIS UNIT HAS NO RECORD OF YOUR KIND. QUERY: WHAT IS YOUR UNIT DESIGNATION?"
"Unit 23432," Victor quickly said. "Log new security clearance; Farseers Elathana and Caennyl. Update security clearance; full ship access."
"ACKNOWLEDGED. SECURITY CLEARANCE UPDATED."
"This is yet another difference between us and the Imperium; we make full use of sentient AI individuals," Victor proudly said.
"It's presence is... unnerving," Elathana stated. "It's like staring into death itself."
"Agreed," Caennyl said. "I refuse to be in its presence much longer."
"23432," Victor said. "You are dismissed. Resume patrol patterns.
"ACKNOWLEDGED."
"Do not worry about the synths, they're only like this because their emotional emulators are removed. It's for their good, lest they fall victim to pesky matters like PTSD or some other form of mental break."
"That is not comforting, human," Caennyl said.
"Do you not utilize synthetics? Surely such an advanced society such as yours uses some form of AI."
The two farseers looked like Victor touched on a sensitive topic.
"We do not use artificial intelligence in our constructs," Elathana explained. "The souls of our ancestors pilot them instead."
If he was talking to any other race, Victor would've burst out laughing. He would've mocked and taunted them for believing in such primitive concepts. Instead, he settled for merely a nod.
"Well, in any case, I have other matters to attend to. Feel free to go wherever you wish; the security personnel won't dare stop you."
With that, Victor left the two farseers alone to explore and wander while he walked off.
"Souls of ancestors, my ass..." he muttered as he moved through the Dominion, spotting Julie coming in the opposite direction, the Hesukari admiral walking with her hands clasped behind her back.
"Victor," she greeted. "Heard that you had guests aboard and wanted to see them for myself."
"Indeed I do," he replied.
"Are they still so arrogant and uptight?"
"No, at least not as much. They're like house cats," Victor laughed. Julie raised an eyebrow at that.
"'House cats?' Do you view my kind like that as well?" She said while smirking.
"No, no, it's just that they're aloof, and they're skeptical of everything, even when we're trying to help them, but once they get used to it, they return to their stoic demeanor. It's adorable, honestly."
"Interesting comparison. So then, what's your endgame? Surely you're not going through all this just so you can have more people to talk to over a beer?"
Victor frowned. "Well, right now I'm trying to prioritize the differences between the Imperium and us so that they won't bother our colonists when, not if, the Technocracy sends them over. After that, I don't know, try to find more alien empires to form agreements with? It's still a lot to handle."
Julie nodded. "Well, luckily we have next to no data on this Milky Way, it'll be like reliving history, like how our empire's scientists pierced the darkness and found each other.
"True," Victor agreed before his tone turned serious. "Say, have you heard from the citadel in the Illiad system?"
"Not a word," Julie replied, face darkening. "I was just about to ask you the same question."
"I'm sure they're doing good, they're just busy at the moment."
"But for six days?"
"You know how science works. Probably in some breakthrough or something."
"Anyways, I'll try to find your guests and try to not let them get lost," Julie said as she walked away. Victor, meanwhile, headed for the brig to prepare the Dominion's Drukhari members for... processing.
ITS Dominion brig, fifteen minutes later
The brig of the Dominion, like all other ships of the Technocracy, wasn't a dark and dreary place at all. Ample lighting, pleasing sterile white which contrasted sharply with Victor's red-and-black uniform, and even the odd flora sample, both alien and Earth, along the hallways. Most of the inhabitants of the brig hadn't done anything severe, most of the crew are too loyal to ever consider mutiny or other despicable acts, and they were here because of the stress of the job or Shrouded Mind Disorder, of which affliction rates were slowly but steadily increasing. In those cases, a quick session in a suspended animation pod for an Earth day or two usually resolves the issue relatively quickly. However, the Technocracy is rightfully feared for three reasons; the sheer and utter disregard for ethics in its scientific research, its ruthless soldiers of the Punitive Corps, and its utter torment of traitors and dissidents, which often leads back to the first reason.
Indeed, the sterile white walls of the brig hint at its ulterior purpose; it is also a laboratory that is conveniently located next to an airlock. Traitors, dissidents, and prisoners of war are often used as test subjects for various experiments, be it biological, technological, or everything in between, and it is also the home of the recently revived A.P.E.X. Predators, albeit far from their early, pre-unified Earth iterations. Discovered in a long-abandoned pre-unification complex in Siberia, project A.P.E.X. had been personally transmitted by the Imperator himself to the databanks of the Dominion for testing and improvement.
Victor approached the holding area, tall pillars that had uncountable amounts of holding cells, to which the stationed scientists saluted him.
"So," he began. "Are our 'guests' ready?"
"They should be," a scientist replied. "They've been in suspended animation for a day now."
"Release one, any will do. The pod need not be near the ground."
Another scientist nodded and tapped on their holographic screen, to which the pillar began to rotate slowly, cycling through its pods to select one. As he watched, Victor couldn't help but let a smile creep across his face. The Drukhari might be irredeemable monsters, but even they should be proud of contributing so much to the advancement of innovation, science, and progress in one form or another. Finally, a pod extended from the pillar and positioned itself so that its opening was horizontal to the floor. A kabalite warrior, sans helmet, fell out with a humorously high-pitched yelp and struck the floor seven feet below. The two scientists then sat the dazed alien onto a hover chair and thoroughly restrained it.
"Well? Is someone home in there?" Victor asked while the kabalite glared at him with their obsidian-black eyes. "I suppose being held captive by a 'lowly mon'keigh' is... unusual to you?"
Silence was his only reply.
"I can make an educated guess that you realized that we're not the Imperium, no?"
The kabalite struggled against their restraints slightly.
"Don't bother. It's made from reinforced neutronium; you'd have better luck moving a mountain."
To his surprise, the kabalite stopped.
"What do you want, mon'keigh?" It growled out. "If you expect me to beg for mercy, you'll be sorely disappointed."
"So he speaks! I have no idea. Well, I do, but I don't know how to do it."
"So either kill me or let me go, you primitive filth."
Victor pursed his lips. "See, killing you is a dreadful waste of resources, and if I let you go, where would you run to? I heard from your much more likable kin that your society despises weaklings, and well," he looked around. "I'd say being a mon'keigh's captive qualifies. Here's the thing, though. We humans are naturally curious beings and this curiosity often drives us to accomplish much," Victor clenched his right hand, causing it to glow red while his nanites swirled in circles around it.
"You see, all we want from you is information, and we know how we'll get it," he moved his arm down, and part of the wall to the right of the kabalite folded down to reveal a contraption roughly the length of the kabalite with straps, monitors and other unidentifiable parts. A shimmer of blue flashed across his eyes. "And torturing you is both a dreadful waste of resources, as you're probably so used to pain and suffering it'll have no effect, and inefficient as anyone would say anything to make the pain stop," he turned the kabalite's head towards the machine. "Therefore, we have created this contraption you see there that we lovingly call the 'Ripscanner.' Any guesses why?"
The kabalite's eyes narrowed. "Crude torture device or not, breaking me is an impossibility, mon'keigh."
"Oh no, it's nowhere near as barbaric," Victor said in fake distress. "It'll take every memory you've had in your life, yank it from your brain, and copy it into a readable medium. Unfortunately for you, however, it'll also destroy every single brain cell in your head."
"Is that meant to threaten me?"
"It's not a threat, I am merely presenting cold, hard facts." A predatory smile appeared on Victor's lips. "The Ripscanner is a marvel of human ingenuity, something I doubt your kind even has. I, like every other human and alien aboard this vessel, emphasize efficiency above all else, and torture is a very inefficient method of extracting information." Two security personnel in standard black-and-white uniforms then carried the bound kabalite over to the device. "If it's any consolation, from what I heard about your kind, you'll probably enjoy this, and if you don't, well, you won't be alive long enough to care anyways."
Yelling unintelligible curses at him, the kabalite was restrained to the Ripscanner while the hatch sealed the device shut.
"Begin the transfer process," Victor commanded, his voice taking on a commanding tone. The two scientists tapped on their holo-screens as the interior of the Ripscanner chamber lit up in blue light. Judging from both that and the screaming of the kabalite inside, the device was doing its job. Victor watched intensely, not taking any pleasure in the process. Unlike other admirals, he did not take pleasure in inflicting pain upon others, rather, he focused on the process of information gathering, and to him, this is merely another step in the scientific process. After a few more minutes, the Ripscanner opened, the charred remains of the kabalite fell out, and a beep sounded on a holo-monitor.
"Memory transfer complete, sir," a scientist reported. "Begining analysis now."
"Good, was there something else you wanted to show me?"
"Indeed, sir. Follow me."
Victor often felt... weird around baseline humans, his 8'5" stature being the main reason. Hell, he was taller than both farseers Caennyl and Elathana by half a head. He didn't mind this sense of inferiority that the rest of the crew felt around him, though, as that only furthered his sense of authority that his position as admiral gifted, and he used his authority to push orders through unwilling, sometimes unable crew members. He followed the scientist who led him through the halls of the brig, which spanned roughly a tenth of the Dominion's starboard side, he didn't feel that sense of authority, as in the realm where science is improved upon, all are equal in the pursuit of knowledge.
As the pair entered an observation room, six more scientists turned and saluted the admiral. In the testing chamber, Victor saw that it was split in two with a one-way viewing glass; the opaque side had three Drukhari warriors, two male, and one female, all of whom had their armor and weapons and were trying to find a way to escape, anger and fury plastered on their faces. The transparent side, however, was empty, at least for now.
"So then," he began. "Where is this thing you wanted to show me?"
"We're getting to that, sir," the scientist replied. "You, send it in," they said to another scientist who pulled a lever down that opened a door on the transparent side of the testing chamber. What stepped out could only be described as a chimera of flesh and metal. A Drukhari body, most likely another kabalite, had an exoskeletal frame grafted on, with the frame itself acting like a rudimentary armor, while a thick, rectangular visor was grafted to the subject's head. It growled and snarled, akin to a wolf or other canine. The shape of the body was relatively unchanged, save for both cheeks having been removed, resulting in a skeletal grin. The most notable thing, however, were two long, sharp, and heated blades which were as long as Victor's leg and were grafted to the subject's forearms and the back of their hands.
"Impressive, isn't it?" The scientist asked. "This is the newest iteration of an A.P.E.X. Predator, and if things go smoothly, they'll be ready for deployment within the next few cycles."
The A.P.E.X. Predator continued to snarl and growl as it scanned the room, eventually spotting the three Drukhari subjects on the other side of the divider. It proceeded to let out a sound that was a mixture of a scream and a howl before charging through the glass, scattering all three subjects and hitting the wall. Immediately, all three subjects jumped it, some stabbing its back or slashing the torso. The A.P.E.X. Predator then swung at one of the subjects, bisecting them, all while letting out its scream-howl. It then beheaded another subject and stabbed the final one through the chest before finally calming down.
"No pain, no fear, low intelligence," boasted the scientist. "The perfect terror weapon."
"Indeed," Victor agreed. "Though, I expected it to be more... refined. Elegant."
"A living terror weapon isn't the most elegant thing in the world, admiral, but I understand your meaning."
"Also, how many subjects did you go through before you got this result?"
The scientist grimaced and looked at the others who bore the same expression.
"Well... we went through ten for the first iteration, and five more to get to this..."
The admiral nodded, holding no qualms about expending their Drukhari captives. He then turned to leave as the scientist in the Ripscanner chamber called him.
"Admiral," they began. "Data processing is complete. Unfortunately, the only thing of interest is a 'Webway' and a 'Commorragh.'"
"Keep going, use more prisoners," Victor said. "I want everything they know placed in order on a holo-screen."
"Yes sir."
Meanwhile, ITS Dominion science wing...
Farseer Caennyl was wandering the ship, not knowing where to go. The human vessel was disorienting and maze-like, the white-colored halls broken only by black and red stripes and the odd plant. As he wandered the ship's corridors, many humans passed him, most not giving him a second glance. Weird blue aliens with elongated skulls also passed him by, as well as aliens who were almost perfect copies of his kind. After walking for a bit, he found himself in a completely white room with around four dozen humans in white robes, all of whom were engrossed in their various tasks, either sitting at their desks or wearing a visor-like cylinder that was attached to the ceiling while moving around holographic panels. Since no one bothered to notice his entrance, Caennyl decided to look around. He spotted some humans conversing with each other in their language, and he also noticed some holographic text on a wall near the ceiling that automatically translated into Aeldari;
"The blind masses must be led down the path of reason."
He scoffed at the simplistic notion, knowing full well that there existed things far beyond what these humans could comprehend. Caennyl swept the room with his gaze once again and sighed. He pitied the naivety and the enthusiasm these humans showed. He had read in the ancient texts that the Imperium was like them once before they devolved into their current state. He continued to walk, steps inaudible to the humans in the room, eventually reaching a windowed door that slid open for him.
The corridor it led to was dark, only dimly illuminated by blue lights, but it was enough for him to see numerous display cases each containing samples of... something. There was a long bony protrusion that ended in three spokes which had an orange webbing between them that was as long as his arm, the same sample but with blue webbing, a void-black shell with neon green edges, and a glowing, cell-like object, but the thing that drew his curiosity the most, however, was a small, periodically rotating column of a grey-ish, dust-like material that seemed to be drawn to him. As he drew nearer and nearer, the vial containing it began to shake harder and harder.
"What in Isha's name...?" he muttered to himself as the vibrations intensified. It then flung itself at the farseer, who barely managed to dodge out of the way, causing the vial to shatter, and releasing its contents. The dust, now freed from its confines began to coalesce into a mass the size of his fist that proceeded to slowly crawl towards him. As the farseer backed up, the mass followed and gradually increased in speed. He was about to burn the whole thing with wraithfire, but it was yanked back by an unseen force. Caennyl looked and saw a female figure, only this time they were wearing the same uniform that he saw the human wear during their meetings. Their right hand was clenched with a red light emanating from it, as well as her pupils glowing red. The dust he had seen was swirling around her fist and was being absorbed by her.
After a few tense moments, the female individual spoke.
"Apologies," she began. "They tend to get unruly often. I'm Jirana Amriali, but others call me Julie or Juliet. A pleasure to finally meet you, farseer."
Caennyl looked up and down at Julie, unnerved by her eerie abilities. Julie's pupils stopped glowing as she unclenched her fist.
"What was that?" He asked, still unnerved from the encounter. Julie merely chuckled and removed another vial of the substance.
"This," she held it in front of the farseer's face. "Is how humanity conquered the stars."
The farseer studied the vial filled with the same dust-like substance that had accosted him mere moments before. The swirling material seemed to form loops within its chamber, seemingly taunting him for his earlier encounter. Before the farseer could ask what it was, Julie told him.
"Nanites, molecule-sized machines with unfathomable potential. It's how I can do this," Julie then materialized her Bastile exoarmor which fully covered her body. "I'm sure you've seen Victor like this before," she said with a robotic voice due to her helmet's filter.
"So, he's your accomplice, young one?" Caennyl asked, still not used to the idea that humanity worked alongside aliens.
"Yep, we've known each other since childhood," she reabsorbed her armor. "As for young, well, I'm approaching fifty. Not what you would consider 'young.'"
The farseer scoffed, as in the eyes of the long-lived farseer, fifty years wouldn't even be a drop in the proverbial bucket.
"How old is your species?" He asked in return. Julie furrowed her brow at that.
"Around the same age as humanity, if not a bit older," she replied after a moment. "From what I've read, we went through similar eras and made similar developments at roughly the same time. If I believed in destiny, I'd think my species and humanity were made for each other."
Caennyl narrowed his eyes. "Similar perhaps, but not as much as you think," he leaned sideways to glance at the specimen display. "Are those the trophies you took while working with the human?"
Julie looked to where the farseer was looking at and smiled. "Oh, those?" She asked with a sigh. "Those are indeed trophies, but not from conquests. Rather, they're from the Great Leviathan Hunt, the proudest thing I've ever done."
The farseer could sense something... off about her, like some dark shadow was following her around.
"And what is this 'Great Leviathan Hunt?'"
Julie's eyes glinted with a disturbing purple. "It was a great hunt, but also a learning opportunity," she pulled down the case containing the void-black shell with neon green edges. "This specimen, for example, burst forth from a planet-sized egg, destroying a colony that was present. Tragic, but ultimately worthwhile as it allowed us to further our study of biology."
"Your 'learning opportunity' had a cost, in this case, innocent lives," Caennyl said in disapproval to which Julie scoffed.
"What doesn't have a cost? It's how one moves up the galactic ladder as the humans put it," she said with a laugh. "Besides, every citizen is willing to sacrifice their life for the advancement of knowledge. A worthy endeavor as any, no?"
The admiral then walked towards a door and gazed at the science wing beyond the window, and sighed.
"Humans, they're curious beings, aren't they?" She asked. "One of many traits they share with my kind."
"Indeed they are," Caennyl begrudgingly admitted. "But some things are best left unanswered."
As soon as he finished those words, Julie faced him with startling speed. "Left unanswered? Oh, dear farseer, those words and thoughts are for the cowards and the ignorant of the universe," She said as she took a small step forward. "How did my ancestors learn to use fire? Did they not endure burns along the way?"
Caennyl stepped back, the blue lights of the corridor providing little comfort against the 8'9" admiral.
"Humanity has thrived by unraveling the universe and delving into so-called 'forbidden lore,' as have my kind," Julie said as she stopped in a location where her figure blocked a blue light. "We are explorers, knowledge-seekers, and conquers of the unknown. We don't hide away from the fire, nor do we extinguish it; we wield it, bend it to our will, and use it to illuminate the darkness."
The farseer sighed. It seemed like the admiral's conviction was unwavering to the point that no amount of words or threats would be able to dissuade her.
"As much as I hate to admit it, the thirst for knowledge shown by humanity is commendable, but there are some boundaries that must be respected young one."
"What are boundaries, farseer, but weak walls erected by the equally weak? Only the coward would attempt to hide themselves from the truth. Are you implying that you are a coward, farseer?"
"I am not implying anything, I am merely giving you and your... fleet advice, for fate does not take kindly to the stupid."
"Well, consider your advice noted," Julie said as she waved open the door. "Shall I escort you to the hangar bay?"
"I'll find it myself, thank you," Caennyl replied as he walked. He noticed that the humans in the room had stopped their work and stared at him in an unsettling manner, all except the ones with the roof-mounted visors waving around holographic sheets, that is. Everyone bore various expressions, all of whom were negative, ranging from disappointment to disgust, evidently overhearing his conversation with the admiral.
Ignorant fool, Caennyl heard the thoughts of one of them.
And he calls his kind "advanced?" Thought another. Ignoring all of them, he walked out of the science wing.
Julie sighed, she had hoped that the Eldar would come to their senses soon enough, and accept their part in the Technocracy, but up until now remained frustratingly uptight. No problem, she had encountered far more resistant civilizations from far less technologically advanced societies. All would come to realize that rationality was the way forward for all sentient beings, and any who cling to their primitive ideals will be ground into the dirt, turned into dust by the machine of progress. They would eventually give up their ways and recognize the logic in the Technocracy, or they will go extinct, sooner or later.
Speaking of rationality, there was the problem of the Shroud and its nature. A satisfactory explanation eluded the best minds of humanity, Hesukari, and other races, and she secretly doubted that one would ever be agreed upon. Sighing again, her thoughts drifted to the dream she had a couple of cycles ago, the one where she was in a forest being pursued by... something. She could recall it with picture-perfect accuracy; a purple-pink humanoid with pointed ears and crustacean hands, both beautiful and horrendously ugly.
She recalled a line from old Hesukari religions, one of many that were all exterminated following their unification on Mithra, that detailed a devil of temptation, who would lure the foolish into eternal damnation and would stalk the night, picking off lone wanderers, children, nobles, and criminals alike. It was the last group of people taken that explained why this specific society, one of eight nation-states on Mithra's surface, based their entire faith and belief system around this "pleasurable enforcer." It was also the first nation and religion to be conquered and exterminated during the first of four unification wars.
From all historical records, said nation originated from the Hesukari Iron Age, and they were... different in a way that caused the primitive societies at the time to shun and isolate them. Dressing in scantily clad black clothing, even while in combat, having "fertility rituals," and being alarmingly fast on the battlefield, most other societies despised them, some even killed their members on sight, but they mostly kept to themselves. As the Hesukari entered the Information Age and Mithra was connected by computer technology, the true extent of their beliefs was revealed. While the rest of the planet shunned them, they seemed to have progressed at the same rate as the other nation-states, and their faith did so as well.
During the first unification war, inside a building of their bombed-out capital, troops belonging to what would eventually be the Galactic Hesukar Regime breached a bunker complex beneath the capital, where they encountered the last bastion of this debaucherous nation; men, women, and even children were huddled with firearms. As half of the occupying force executed them, the other half explored the facility, finding various artifacts, scripts, and altars dedicated to a "Herald of Perfection." Reports from the troops indicated that they kept seeing a purple entity with crustacean claws in the corners of their vision. Mysterious losses also occurred, but they were written off as unfortunate casualties due to ambushes.
When she first heard about this, Julie first dismissed it as nonsense, the last, desperate plea by an inferior nation for their god to come and save them from their fate, and their pathetic wails when they realize that no such entity exists. Now, however, with the advent of the discovery of the Shroud, she can't help but wonder if there was some merit to the stories. Sighing, she gazed at the specimen case housing an egg of the Stellarite Devourer, a massive creature of energy that fed on stars. It was her favorite, which comforted her when her thoughts ran astray.
She laughed dryly, the Technocracy could kill what is essentially a god, yet they failed to come up with an answer to the Shroud, which by comparison is a pedestrian task. Nonetheless, the Technocracy's science will be perfected, or they will die trying.
ITS Dominion residential district
Elathana had been wandering the human ship for some time now, going off of memory of her stay. The thought still irked her a little, being saved by a mon'keigh- human. Yes, human, he has more than earned the right to not be insulted when she conversed with him. She moved through gardens, all of which were artificial, with straight edges and flora alien to her. There was even a small waterfall near the center of it where a white-robed human was looking at a holographic tablet, evidently deep in thought. The farseer moved through the garden, eventually reaching a block of living quarters.
"让我走! 我做了什么?! (Let me go! What did I do?!)" A voice called from in front of her. Elathana looked over and saw a human in white robes with their hands and feet bound with rope, and being dragged by two other humans beside them. She recognized the armor they wore as belonging to the human soldiers that her dark kin had slaughtered en mass when they defended her craftworld. She sighed, realizing that these humans still maintained some form of intolerance towards themselves. Walking for a few more minutes, she ended up beside the door of a residence with three holographic pictures beside it.
The first two were of little interest, two planets with massive ring structures surrounding them, but the third one drew her attention. There were five humans, two of whom looked older than the rest, made of three males and two females. A young human, around twenty if Elathana could recall about human anatomy, had his hand on the shoulder of another young male whom she was deeply familiar with. It was the admiral whom she had met on numerous occasions, both on this ship and on the craftworld. Victor, he said his name was. He looked genuinely happy in the photo, smiling wide as the human with his hand over his shoulder, evidently his brother, wore a uniform similar to what he wore.
"A nice family..." she said to no one in particular.
"They are, aren't they?" A voice behind her caused her to spin around and see Victor leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. "Or, more accurately, were. Mind explaining why you're outside my residence?"
Elathana looked through the now empty doorframe at the room within, a small space with a basic bed with a nightstand along with a desk with a holographic computer on it. She looked back at Victor with disbelief.
"This is your residence?" She asked. "Is such self-depreciation common among your kind?"
Victor frowned. "It's not 'self-depreciation,' it's called 'being humble.' Something your kind desperately needs."
"I demand you elaborate."
"It's simple, really," Victor stood up and put down his arms. "Your kind is ancient, your genetic sample shows that clearly, yet you allowed yourself to stagnate. Your empire crumbled, your power gone, and surrounded by the younger races, like us, whom you refuse to believe could ever surpass you."
"You have no clue of my kind's history, you're basing your words on assumptions, very educated ones at that."
"I've encountered empires similar to yours; magnificent, advanced, decadent. Hell, I've destroyed most of them when their arrogance got the better of them. Your tale is the same, with some anecdotes. Speaking of which, what happened to your empire? Every amount of data we've gathered; your technology level, your species' history, your supposed birth rate, all point to there being much more Eldar in the galaxy than what is present, and yet, here you are teetering on the brink of extinction," he leaned back again with a smirk, a blue shimmer appearing in his eyes. "So what happened? War? Famine? Disease? Something else?"
"You have no right to pass judgment on my people based on your limited view of the universe," Elathana shot back. "We once ruled the stars while your kind hadn't even evolved, yet. We had everything and could do everything and unlike your utter disregard for caution, we embraced the subtleties of balance."
"Balance, huh? Is that what you call what happened to your ancestors?"
The farseer's eyes flashed with both anger and defeat. "You vastly oversimplify it, but I guess that's the only way your mind can comprehend it. Although not a single one of my kind will admit it, our ancestors were once like you and your empire, placing art, philosophy, and knowledge at the forefront."
Victor smirked. "Sounds a lot like the Technocracy, so how did it come crashing down?"
Elathana glared at the human and his tone of superiority and curiosity. She hated how he simplified her people's history as if it were merely anecdotes on a report. She knew that's what he was doing, as he's both an admiral and a scholar.
"We were too complacent," she began bitterly. "You have to understand that we had everything. Any need, want, or desire could be satisfied, which resulted in... exotic pursuits, the result of which you're familiar with."
"I see," Victor replied. "We humans also followed a similar path, except we managed to stop the process early enough before any damage could occur. Now, we have technology that a mere generation ago would be considered magic."
"I find the idea of humans escaping decadence and decline hard to believe," she retorted, voice filled with disdain. "How will you guarantee history won't repeat itself, given your kind's... mental maturity?"
"Here's an example, say, the matter of food," Victor began as he waved his hand around and an apple appeared in his palm. "We could fabricate unlimited amounts of food for everyone, and divert more manpower elsewhere. It would certainly be more comfortable and easy, and we could set up the infrastructure in a short timeframe." He took a bite. "But to be honest with you, easy is boring and lazy. What's the point of automating everything if you're bored of it all?"
"And how did your society adapt? I don't think that humans would be that hard to satisfy."
Victor swallowed. "Discovery. Innovation. Progress. The universe is vast and full of wonders, you just need to know where to look. Plus, while our technology is possibly the most advanced it has ever been, there is always room for improvement, upgrades, and change." He dematerialized the apple. "Also, you'd be surprised at how easily human beings can go stir-crazy. Had I not provided adequate entertainment for them, this ship would've devolved into an orgy of... unspeakable proportions, but I suppose that a race who forgot what the scientific process is would think that."
Despite the friendly if arrogant demeanor of the human, Elathana couldn't help but feel a dark presence following him. Whether it was due to her innate distrust and dislike of humans or something else, she couldn't tell.
"I'll also be the first to admit that we still have a lot of things we don't understand yet, but damn it, we're trying. Maybe it'll lead us to glory, maybe to extinction. No one knows for sure, but that's part of the allure, no?"
"No, you pursue knowledge without understanding that'll lead you and your kind to disaster. I fear that your hunger for knowledge will result in unimaginable consequences for you."
"Please, farseer," Victor scoffed. "I've led my fleet through uncountable amounts of ships, faced off against hive minds whose warrior drones literally broke themselves against our defenses, took on robotic war forms the size of mountains, killed a god, even. I think I can handle a little misfortune."
"Whatever you say, human. Just know that there are beings beyond your comprehension that can and will bring ruin to your society if you're not careful. I'd hazard a guess that your behavior has attracted their attention. Pray you manage to bore them."
The Admiral's smirk fell at that, but before he could manage a response, the farseer was already walking away.
Victor sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. The Eldar were a disgrace to all sentient beings everywhere. Such an ancient race, such an advanced society, yet stagnated to the point where he could reverse-engineer their weapons, and the result would be more advanced than whatever they fielded, and yet they act like they didn't suffer a brutal collapse from their hedonism. They should've been the teachers of the young, like the Enigmatic Observers in his reality, yet they let themselves rot away from their laziness. If he hadn't sworn an oath to enlighten other races with the rewards of innovation and rationality, he would've put them out of their misery and fired the Dominion's perdition beam on their craftworld. It probably be a mercy at that point. No matter, if there's one thing that humans are known for, it's persistence.
The pain he felt as he watched Elathana walk away was akin to a deeply disappointed parent looking at their child as they got arrested. He crossed his arms and paced around the hallway, with everyone else he encountered giving him a wide berth. Even the Punitive Corps soldiers who were present avoided him somewhat. Victor formatted multiple plans in his head to try and enlighten the Eldar, but the rational mind in him knew that all of them involved military intervention, including Project Elysium, which wouldn't help him one bit. No matter, he'd faced tougher enigmas than this and all will be made bare before him.
He kept pacing around the hallway before stopping in front of the picture of his family and him. He had avoided looking at it recently, as the mere sight of it threatened to dig up memories he'd long suppressed, and he couldn't appear to look weak in front of his crew. But he was at a loss, and when he was alive, his father was always there to help him, to guide him in the darkness.
"Tell me, old man," Victor said to himself. "What would you do?"
No response. Of course, there wasn't. He didn't know why he still bothered. Was it because of something deep inside the human nature to look to the dead for guidance? He had read in the past that people often kept shrines in their homes with pictures of the departed, which he considered nonsense, but now...
No. He would not allow the past to hold him back any longer. The sight of the picture sickened him, its very presence a mockery to his very being. But there was something else to it, something he couldn't make out. Whatever it was, it was wrong, wrong on a fundamental nature. Victor squinted his eyes and saw faint traces of bluish-purple smoke coming out of the "frame." The mere sight of it made his head hurt, and whispers that began as inaudible words rose in volume, still unintelligible, yet familiar at the same time. The feeling grew and grew until he couldn't take it anymore and with a speed faster than the baseline eye could process, his fist collided with the projector, shattering it.
The admiral rested his head on the wall while hunched over, taking deep breaths and trying to compose himself. After a few minutes when his ears were filled with the sound of his heartbeat, Victor finally stood up straight, looked over, and saw two people, a junior officer, and an engineer, looking straight at him with terror in their eyes. It was understandable; they had just witnessed their commanding officer, an 8'5" tall, nanite-infused human, on the verge of a mental breakdown.
"S-sir," the junior officer stammered out, a woman who looked barely in her twenties in Victor's eyes, and he could tell valued sharpness. "Are... are you alright?"
"I'm... I'm fine," he replied before pointing at the engineer. "You, check this, now."
The engineer looked at the officer in sheer terror. "I... um... w-wha-?"
"Are you defying a direct order?"
"N-no, s-sir," they got out as they cautiously approached the shattered holoprojector. After a few minutes, Victor's impatience got the better of him.
"Well?" He asked.
"Besides you slamming your fist into it-" Victor's hand went to the engineer's throat before they could finish the sentence, and he could see out of the corner of his vision that the junior officer instinctively reached for her firearm before stopping halfway, realizing she was about to draw her weapon on her superior officer. He could hear both of their hearts beating out of their chests in sheer terror.
"I. Know. That," he spat out. "What. is. WRONG. WITH. IT?!"
"Nothing! Nothing's wrong, sir!" The engineer pleaded. The admiral released his hand from their throat and they collapsed to the ground, retching and sobbing.
"Both of you are dismissed. Return to duty," he said as both the engineer and junior officer tripped and stumbled over each other to get away.
Victor sighed yet again as he got a message on his communicator, which was a general message for all admirals and generals;
Attention men, women, and allies of the Interstellar Solar Technocracy:
You are all formally invited to the Forbidden City on Beijing, Earth, Sol System for the marriage of Prince Charles Yang and Crown Princess Illaria of the Galactic Hesukar Regime on 01/04/2545. This will cement both of our empire relations with each other for the foreseeable future, and long after the Imperator passes away.
There will be a two-day "unwinding" period where you are allowed to visit anywhere in the Sol system, free of charge, free of consequence so that you may relax, socialize, and let any anxiety and restlessness out of your systems so that you may be on your best behavior throughout the month-long celebration. Venus is a classic destination for those wanting to appreciate history, as is Mars for those who appreciate our military, but recently built resorts on Jupiter and Neptune may also be popular destinations. Your assigned replacements have generously assumed your duties temporarily, so that you may enjoy the festivities. Be sure to thank them if you see them!
A full military uniform dress code will be enforced at all times. Failure to comply will result in barred entry to the city until such clothes can be acquired. Do not be afraid to show off your rank, medals, or achievements, it's all in the spirit of comradery! Plus, we gave you your rank badges for you to show off, not for you to hide them away as if in shame!
A reminder that any hostile behavior directed at Imperator Yang XIV, Empress Jaffaba Sartyr, the prince, the crown princess, and any visiting dignitaries will result in a non-negotiable punishment of court-martial, demotion of rank, forfeiture of pay, imprisonment, and/or execution. Remember your training, and your oaths, and be on your best behavior; you have humanity's reputation to hold up after all!
Glory to the state, glory to humanity!
PS: Any and all guests will be subject to inspection and monitoring upon arrival, with no exceptions. By bringing them to this event, you, and your guest(s) by proxy, consent to having them be subjected to the Technocracy's laws and appropriate punishments for violations. No leniency will be granted for any reason, for anyone, regardless of origin. Ignorance is no excuse.
- Imperial Royal Household, Yang Dynasty
Looking back at the ruined holoprojector, he thought to himself that two days of relaxation would do him some good. As he made for the bridge, he swore to himself that he would get to the bottom of this. If someone was playing a prank on him, he would rip out their throat.
Information Data Logs
Nanites: The figurative and literal backbone of the Technocracy, these molecule-sized machines are what allowed humanity to dominate the Earth, the stars, and everything in between. Although humanity dabbled in nanotechnology in the 21st century, nanites were only perfected during the Era of Consolidation and were as big of an advancement as the discovery of nuclear power or even antibiotics. No longer was our genetic structure at the whims of evolution, for we could choose the path for our species. Cancer was all but cured overnight, any genetic defects or diseases were wiped out from humanity. We changed our livestock animals to be more hardy, requiring less food for increased muscle mass to be harvested at slaughter. Super soldier projects, like the Punitive Corps, were no longer in the realm of science fiction and were successful in producing the finest warriors ever seen in humanity. These warriors can also manipulate the environment in ways previously thought magical, all via nanites that they have full control over.
All of this has led to many people joking that humans were made of 60% water, 20% organic matter, and 20% nanites. But genetic manipulation wasn't our only advancement, as humanity experienced a new industrial revolution.
Factories churned out consumer goods using five times fewer resources, foundries were four times more efficient as nanites enabled machinery previously thought impossible to become a reality. Computer systems were streamlined, and AI became an addition to everyday life. Buildings went up in a fraction of a time, allowing skyscrapers to be constructed within months instead of years. Now, in the 26th century, nearly everything constructed by humanity, from personal weapons and a pen to warships and colonies, has some form of nanite presence within. However, should a malignant being manage to disrupt an individual's nanites, they would go into total organ failure, and if it were made so that new nanites couldn't be created, even the most conservative estimates estimate that the Interstellar Solar Technocracy, and by extension humanity, would go extinct in an Earth week.
The Shroud: Where do we go when we die? Most people say "nowhere." Others imagine a form of heaven or hell, depending on one's morals in life. Others still think we get reincarnated in a new body, akin to an AI core shifting between constructs. Although no one will admit it, even the most staunch believers in rationality have pondered the question at some point in time, all with no satisfactory conclusions. With the discovery of the Shroud, however, we may have an answer. Originally, many laughed at the very idea of a "sea of souls," but with the onset of psionic powers in the individuals of [REDACTED] and [EXPUNGED], interest grew in the source of this power that many in the Technocracy considered charlatanry. Through intense experimentation and information theft, we discovered that there indeed existed something beyond reality, somewhere we cannot point to, and it exists between realities. The Shroud manifests in numerous ways, for example, a species of somatic flora, nicknamed "Shroudbells," that exists across tropical worlds is linked to the Shroud in some way and causes insomnia and other mental disorders in organic beings, while also causing the processing units of synthetics to bug out. It is this insight into the Shroud that led to the creation of the Riftjumper gate, unlocking the multiverse to humanity and our allies. As we study this enigmatic realm, where some may fear and revile it and others revere and worship it, we are not blinded by belief and superstition, and can see for what truly is; merely another resource to be exploited.
Hyperlanes: Essentially a "tunnel" through space and time, the hyperlane system was discovered during the Era of Consolidation, a full decade after the disaster of the Ulysses Project resulted in the loss of six colony ships when they entered an unstable wormhole that was hypothesized to reach Alpha Centauri and was never heard from again. Then, eight years later, four distinct gravitational anomalies were discovered in the solar system where no planets could influence the readings. Further analysis of the anomalies revealed that the gravitational points were gravitic tunnels linking the solar system to Alpha Centauri, the original destination of the Ulysses Project. Although barely the size of a person, hyperlanes can be "held open" by a device on ships that are aptly named hyperdrives. These devices utilize an inversion of gravity to force open the opening of a hyperdrive wide enough to allow a ship to pass through and move faster than light. The discovery of the hyperlane and hyperdrive are of the same scope as the crossing of the Atlantic Ocean by Europeans, or the moon landing. Despite our mastery, however, we still don't know how the hyperlane system came to be. Theories range from the gravity waves of stars forming a tunnel-like structure and an advanced, extinct precursor race creating them, to their formation after the big bang.
A.P.E.X. Predators: Created during the War for Societal Unification by the then Asiatic Sovereign Technocracy, the A.P.E.X. Predators were the spiritual precursors to the Punitive Corps, although nowhere near as intelligent and adaptable. They were formed out of the need to dominate the battlefield, and although the Technocratic Armed Forces (T.A.F.) were holding their own, it was only after the A.P.E.X. Predators were integrated into them that any actual progress was made. These super soldiers, as tall as a Punitive Corps soldier at eight feet, had an exoskeletal frame grafted directly to their skeleton that is controlled by a neural implant that is attached to the brain stem. These augments allowed them to carry extremely heavy weaponry, such as an M2 Browning with the fire rate of an assault rifle, a mortar launcher, and massive swords, to name a few examples.
Unfortunately, as the Technocracy needed these soldiers en masse, children were force-fed growth hormones to accelerate their maturity, the result of which was an 8-foot-tall super soldier who could use a light machine gun as a machine pistol, who had the mental capabilities of a five-year-old. These issues, coupled with the neural implant frying the brain if additional stress was placed on its connection, led the now Imperial Asiatic Society to deem the A.P.E.X. Predators unsuitable to become humanity's interstellar army, and as such, ordered the extermination of every A.P.E.X. Predator by the new Punitive Corps.
Thirty members of the Punitive Corps were tasked with cleansing the Earth of these super soldiers, and they did so with ruthless indifference. The A.P.E.X. Predators, with their stunted mental faculties, didn't even try to run as they couldn't comprehend what was occurring. Within a week, the A.P.E.X. Predators were officially eliminated, and the facility in Siberia that made these was destroyed and buried. At least, that's what the public knows. Unofficially, Project A.P.E.X. was dug up in the 25th Century to be used as a form of punishment, often for desertion, wherein the neural implants would be overloaded to the point where the victim would regress to an animalistic form while various weapons were grafted to them, ranging from dual blades grafted to their arms, Huolong assault rifles grafted to their hands, and fireball cannons grafted to their underarms. As such, these victims are minimally armored, serving as cannon fodder, distractions, or shock-and-awe troops while the actual military engages the enemy, turning the once-valued asset of pre-Unification Earth into nothing more than a living weapon.
REX-556 "Ripscanner" Neural Scanner: The Interstellar Solar Technocracy prides itself on its efficiency in all things; efficiency in science, in manufacturing, in warfare, and in punishment. While the death penalty is far from a rare occurrence in the Technocracy, straight-up executions are a surprisingly rare occurrence. That would be a dreadful waste of that individual's collected knowledge, secrets, and memories. Enter the Ripscanner, a (relatively speaking) more humane form of execution. It works by securing the subject in a sealed chamber, while a device utilizing electrical signals scans the brain, listing every single memory that the individual had. The Ripscanner is named that because it rips the information from one's mind, and rips the brain apart, and the acronym R.I.P.
The Great Leviathan Hunt: The Great Leviathan Hunt wasn't one engagement, but four with various titanic space fauna known colloquially as "Leviathans." These beasts took the definition of "animal" to the word's logical extreme, with one of them made from the energy of a star. All of these battles involved four battlegroups of the Imperial Punitive Navy, all of whom had some part of them taken as a trophy. The first of these engagements was with the Ether Drake, Draconis Aetherum. Located in a star system with a class F star, the unfortunate science ship who stumbled across it only had enough time to transmit details, their location, and a distress signal before being vaporized by the Ether Drake's breath. A battlegroup was dispatched to the location at once, only to realize the true extent of the Ether Drake's power. After a hasty retreat, three more battlegroups arrived at their location, and what followed could only be described as a brawl between beast and metal, after sustaining heavy losses, the Drake finally fell, its body writhing as it died. All ships participating in the battle received a sample of its membrane as a trophy, while the body itself was hauled to Earth for study. It was then it was realized that the Ether Drake appeared to be from a previous universe, surviving a "Big Crunch" event, only to fall to Gauss rounds, lasers, and missiles.
The next engagement was one we were sorely underprepared for. A science ship was excavating an archeological site on the ruins of a planet-spanning city with a fresh colony assisting operations on the surface. All was going well until another member of the Draconis Aetherum who called herself "Shard" suddenly appeared and destroyed the science ship. She gave us a choice to either abandon the colony to her mercy or to fight her there and then. Given the sudden appearance of another member of the Draconis species who was sentient, we inquired about the previous one we'd slain. She gave an equivalent of a laugh before telling us that it was, quote, "a depressed, pathetic thing who couldn't let his mate go." The Technocracy scrambled the same four battlegroups immediately, but just as they exited the hyperlane, they witnessed her vaporize the colony of five thousand individuals with a single breath. Yet another brawl raged before she was gravely wounded. A device known as the Rubicator was found in her stomach, which was retrieved and studied. Once again, her membranes were gifted to each ship that participated, and as she was still alive, the Technocracy offered to let bygones be bygones and transferred her consciousness into a synthetic body. As of recent updates, she has found love and is living a somewhat normal life.
The third encounter was as tragic as it was existentially terrifying. A colony on a savanna world had been present for only five years when seismic activity began at an unsettling rate. A seismological team was dispatched where it was discovered that the planet had a... heartbeat? Within a local week, transmissions became increasingly frantic, from worry and unease to full-blown panic. One last panicked transmission was received before the planet cracked open and a colossal, jet-black creature erupted from the remains of the "planet" and immediately destroyed the starbase in orbit of the star. Dubbed the Voidspawn, Abyssicus Aberratio, the same battlegroups were sent to put the thing down before it could grow. A much more brutal battle followed because the Voidspawn fired corrosive missile-like projectiles that melted through the neutronium armor of the ships. In the end, though, the battlegroups once again were on top. They each received a piece of the Voidspawn's scales, but everyone involved had another, more urgent question on their minds; what creature in the universe would be large enough to lay a planet-sized egg? All methods have been inconclusive, perhaps for the best.
The fourth and last hunt involved the Stellarite Devourer, a being defying all classification. Made out of pure stellar matter, it was discovered by a science ship feeding on a class G star before the ship was vaporized by an energy beam as hot as the surface of the sun. The battlegroups, now known as the "god-slayers," were on it at once, and engaged the Devourer by targeting its thermal regulation vents. An egg of the Devourer was given to each ship as a proud display that not even beings of pure energy can topple us.