Day 26
Tide was, perhaps, more surprised than he should have been when the next Priest of Mars exposed themselves, willingly, to Organism-04. This one was an adept, one of low rank but close enough to Magos Zalum to have learned more about Organism-04 than most. She was less heavily augmented than those of higher rank in the Machine Cult and still possessed her organic lungs. She had infected herself by simply deactivating her breath filter in a spore-dense environment. She was also not the only one.
Slowly, one-by-one, more and more tech-priests exposed themselves to Organism-04. A few were by accident, a failure of a filter or an exposed flesh wound granting entry. Most were deliberate, nearly twenty tech-priests all across Malum and Deimos having infected themselves in one way or another.
Most, like Vidriov, chose to inject themselves with a concentrated amount of Organism-04, allowing him swift access to their minds and memories. Also like Vidriov, they were all believers in the spores as being a form of Archaeotech and deeply sacred.
Even those who had accidentally exposed themselves didn't seem overly concerned. Infection was virtually inevitable now that they themselves were actively spreading the spores via their bombs.
Tide perused the minds of all who had self-infected, studying them closely. He'd revealed himself to Vidriov because he was confident he could turn the tech-priest to his side and gain an intelligent, if eccentric, scientist as an ally, but that turn had taken a different route than what he'd expected. He had to be careful so any such outcomes were seen in advance. He wasn't as certain if some of these tech-priests would be willing to hear him out, while others simply weren't worth the risk.
There were a number of reasons for him wanting them on his side. The Mechanicus had the greatest chance out of anyone currently on the planet in finding ways to counter or at least effectively fight the Flood, barring perhaps the Chaos Sorcerer. That alone was a good reason to have them as allies rather than as enemies.
Furthermore, his own forays into scientific study could always be aided by other perspectives. While he had great knowledge and intelligence, he was by no means infallible and it was foolish to think he would think of everything. After all, even if he had the processing power of a thousand minds working on a single problem, he was still only a single, unified mind.
With that in mind, he was already swiftly expanding the number of designs he was working on, even if they were only in the prototype stage. Since he was still concerned about whatever lurked in the heart of the space hulk far above, he had chosen to keep most of his works in the depths of Malum, where he was strongest and could be certain no one was looking.
Most of his designs were not wholly original by any means, but he doubted anyone in this universe would care if he stole his inspiration from another. Halo had plenty of designs to choose from for a variety of vehicles and even starships. While it would be some time before he could start to build anything truly space-worthy, he wasn't quite as limited with his ground vehicles.
He separated his designs into two major categories, Covenant and UNSC. Perhaps, one day, he could find a way to effectively meld the two styles, but for now he was content with the differences, since it could prove useful for however he chose to present himself, most likely via his puppets, to the wider galaxy.
For the UNSC-style of new designs, he chose to go practical. While he wouldn't be able to reveal any of his non-Imperial creations without raising alarm bells, not without a proper cover story which would likely require the further cooperation of various Mechanicus groups and individuals, if something unexpected occurred he'd at least be able to fall back on whatever designs proved themselves.
Since he was mostly an infantry force at this point, he began work on prototypes based off his memories of the Warthog and it's variants for his troop transport need. Razorbacks would be cheaper than the Chimera, though much less armored and unarmed. However, he could eat the losses without much trouble, so he didn't really have an issue with the lighter design. The sheer versatility of the Warthog as well with the various weapon loadouts it could hold instead of the troop carrying capacity of the Razorback, would also be quite useful.
He also began working on a prototype of the iconic mainline battle tank of the UNSC, the Scorpion. While the Leman Russ was a design that had survived ten thousand years of war, it wasn't very advanced. The Scorpion was almost as versatile as the Warthog with its turret being able to be easily replaced with variants. Most UNSC designs were quite modular, now that Tide was thinking of it, a useful aspect to have since he was rather limited in terms of resources.
Thirdly was a design even larger than the tank. One of the most important aspects of any modern warfare was air power and he currently lacked anything more than a few Thunderhawk gunships that were, at the moment, irreplaceable. So, the Pelican was a natural addition to his forces, as a method of transporting not just troops but material and the vehicles he was designing in conjunction with it would be invaluable.
Finally, he came to the subject of infantry armor. The armor of the PDF wasn't exactly of high quality and while he could just use the Cadian-style armor of Monstrum's Imperial Guard, that armor had issues of its own. His basic puppet infantry wasn't very valuable, but he wanted some elite units at least, even if the only real difference would be their equipment. Vidriov had taken it upon himself to build the Mjolnir armor of the Master Chief and while Tide was occasionally offering a suggestion, he'd leave that particular project mostly to the Genetor. What Tide wanted was a middle ground between the armor he had and the powered armor of the UNSC. Thankfully, the Halo universe had a group with armor perfectly suited to the task: the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, or ODST's.
That their armor was almost as badass as Mjolnir was just a bonus.
Next were the Covenant designs, which he chose to go less practical with and more with what he felt would be most useful for their eventual appearance on the galactic stage. Their designs and the technologies they used needed to be different enough from the UNSC and Imperial styles to ensure a connection wasn't made. While xenos did steal human designs fairly often, they usually still had some originality.
He recalled the Hunters and the worms that made them up, the Lekgolo, and inspiration struck. He'd already used specialized Flood forms to perform certain tasks they were more suited towards than mechanical counterparts. Why not take that a step further?
Thus, before even the first Covenant prototype had begun, a new component was created that would find its way into every explicitly alien design he intended to craft. Lekgolo worms would be less versatile than if he used his full capabilities simply due to being locked into a single form, but Tide was certain that would be more beneficial in the long run since those who tried to reverse engineer his tech would be surprised to find an alien lifeform, but not think it was something on par with a race like the Tyranids, let alone something even worse.
The first design he decided to begin constructing prototypes for his Covenant puppets was the Ghost, a vehicle he'd always thought was quite beautiful, whether it was the smooth, aquatic look of the Covenant's designs or the more rugged and brutal designs the Banished used. The gravitic technology within each speeder was something he'd already been learning to use extensively, so he hoped the design would prove itself simple to design.
The next design was the Covenant's own mainline battle tank, the Wraith. While it was shorter than the Scorpion, it was bulkier as well, with an unusual frame. He wasn't so sure it would work out as a tank as a result, but nonetheless designed a few of the prototypes to hold that in mind. Others, however, he decided to focus more around the main weapon of the Wraith, its mortar cannon. A highly mobile artillery piece like that would be quite useful.
He would also design the Phantom dropship the Covenant used as their own troop and light vehicle transport. While he couldn't replicate the speed of their blink drives, he was wondering about the effectiveness of his gravictic tech and whether it could match his Pelican design in terms of speed and maneuverability.
Just as he had begun to design armor for his human puppets, Tide also wanted to start looking into types of armor for his xenos puppets that was more advanced than simple welded plates fused to flesh. Elite armor was even cooler than Mjolnir in Tide's opinion, so he was quite excited to start working on prototypes for it. While energy shields were something outside of his realm of knowledge, he could do his best to emulate the other aspects of the beautiful craftsmanship of the Sangheli.
Finally, came the last and largest design he'd begin working on, one that would only be having a single prototype of it made mostly because he doubted whether it would be even worth the resources needed to design it. However, after deciding to heavily use Lekgolo worms in his Covenant-style of designs, he couldn't just… not make it.
The Scarab tank. Specifically, the one from Halo 2. It was larger than a Superheavy battle tank. While none of the tech-priests whose memories he had access to had ever seen a titan, they knew enough general information of the God-Machines that Tide knew the Scarab approached a Scout Titan, the smallest of the machines capable of laying waste to armies, in terms of size, something that was both incredible and intimidating to think about.
Tide lacked the technology and know-how to even hope to create a machine that could rival a Titan. Any attempt he made would be a flimsy imitation at best and an outright failure at worst. However, he still wanted to try, if only to see what he could manage to create. It was a sort of practice.
That, and he really wanted a Scarab. He was trapped in a galaxy filled with monstrosities of unspeakable horrors, he'd take his small joys when he damn well could.
There was something peaceful about the act of design and invention, even if he was making weapons for war. He wondered if that was really something brought over from his past life or if there was more to it. The Precursors had seeded and tended to life. He wondered how they might have handled being placed in the 40k galaxy with all its horrors.
Would they have just fled? He knew they had access to some degree of multiversal transit through Neural Physics. Somehow he doubted they would abandon this universe to its fate, not when it was in such pain that even he could feel it.
They were powerful enough that he had no doubt they could have crushed any opposition. The question was, would they? The Mantle of Responsibility as he understood it was created to ensure all kinds of life could grow and prosper. Even when faced with the Forerunner genocide of their own kind, they had fled rather than fight. Was that out of a complete objection to taking life, or because it was not important if they lived or died as long as the universe itself was protected?
The Forerunners had taken the Mantle and interpreted it to mean that an enforced, imperial peace was necessary to protect life under their rule. Their beliefs were not in line with those of the Precursors, as Tide understood them to be, but were his? Once he had spread throughout this world, what would he do with it?
There were plenty of options available to him. He didn't think of himself as a conqueror, but he was in the process of capturing it, or recapturing it from a certain point of view. He already had the planetary governor infected. The Inquisitor. A powerful and influential Tech-Priest. Most of the capital city and virtually all of its nobles were his as well. While the Imperial hives had had their numbers effectively cut in half, he only needed to exert a bit of control and they would all fall under his control.
But what would his control look like? Should he take a backseat and just… exist below the floorboards, so to speak, allowing the planet to continue as it had, defusing any suspicions cast at it from the outside? Should he take a more active role and force change to occur?
He understood, better than most owing to his new nature, that suffering and pain were as much a part of life as joy and happiness were, but the nature from his time as a human was still powerful.
He turned his attention towards Purilla, though said nothing to her. She had suffered greatly under the Imperium and he had helped her. She hadn't gotten over her pain nor had he fixed her by any means, but she had learned to recognize her own suffering and see it for what it was rather than what the Imperium wished her to see it as. That had felt right to him, at least the part of him that still considered itself to be human, but it had meant little towards aiding the universe. Was that because it didn't matter? Or was his nature as a corrupted Precursor, if he could be considered even that much, warping how he viewed things?
He wasn't sure. There were some questions he might never get answers to. He supposed that was to be expected. He'd never gotten those answers in his first life, why would his second be any different?
Still, he could make the effort to search for those answers. Perhaps they would reveal themselves in time, perhaps not.
Cass leaned back against the wall of the tunnel, breathing hard, hands clutching the autopistol. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and her stomach was doing backflips.
"Are you hit?" Brunt asked, concern heavy in his voice. He held her arm and she felt a little better from his touch.
"Fine," Cass lied. She could feel bile building up in the back of her throat, threatening to spill over. "Just nauseous," she admitted.
The sound of metal grinding against metal echoed through the tunnels, the all-too familiar noise of an ill-maintained lift scraping to a halt.
"That sounded close," Brunt said, hefting his autogun. "We have to keep moving."
"Y-yeah," Cass replied and she stood up straight, only to fall to her knees, vomit spilling from her mouth.
"Cass!" Brunt cried in worry, holding her arms as his wife began to dry heave, having already lost what was left of their rations. He rubbed her back, unsure of what else to do. "Hold on, I've got you."
"I-," Cass coughed, hacking up spittle and stomach acid. "I think… we need to hide."
"Right," Brunt said, but he only moved when she did, helping her to his feet. The two of them could already hear distant shouting, inhuman howls. Cass heard Brunt mutter a quiet prayer to the God-Emperor and she tried not to scowl. The God-Emperor had never done anything for either of them. Living in Whiro had been hell for both for their whole lives, despised by everyone save each other. Even before the wretches had come, they had been hunted, now it was just more frequent.
Cass knew, to a degree, what she and her husband were. Not normal, not natural. Monsters, though she no one could ever say why, just claiming they were wrong for merely existing.
Cass took some solace in knowing those who had beaten and tried to kill her over the years were now either butchered by their fellow man or changed by whatever madness gripped the city. She hoped whatever had been done to them had hurt.
Brunt helped her, almost carrying her as she swayed with every step, the tunnel seeming to bend around her. She tried to lean more heavily against Brunt, but instead she almost fell over entirely.
They moved towards the side of the tunnel, near an alcove that was partially hidden by some fallen ceiling plates. Brunt helped her in first and she had to squeeze to fit, even the slight pressure on her stomach threatening to send her into another fit of retching. Brunt squeezed in after her and they waited there, silent, listening.
They soon heard the voices of what must have been a dozen or more, moaning in pain and even screeching their suffering at times with sounds that should not have come from humans. That's when Cass realized they weren't. The voices she was hearing belonged to something far worse than man.
She softly prodded Brunt, getting his attention before bringing her finger up to her forehead and tapping it lightly. He nodded in silent understanding.
Monsters.
Whatever things were out there were the real monsters. Not the two of them. They had encountered a few in the past days, more and more frequently as of late. Four-limbed with razor sharp claws that could cut through rockrete and plasteel like a knife through flesh, covered in chitinous armor that could shrug off autogun shots without even denting. And they were fast, faster than any mortal human. Not to mention the fact that they travelled in packs. She had watched from a hiding place as one group of the monsters had butchered some unlucky bastards, ripping them to shreds in seconds.
How they had survived when they had these things hunting them along with their hordes of human worshippers, she wasn't sure. Perhaps they just weren't very good trackers. They had only had to fight a few times, but in each of those fights they had come close to dying, only saved by luck and one another.
The rapid steps of the creatures could be heard as they approached. Cass wasn't sure if they were running as men did or as animals but imagined the latter. She could hear the clack of claws against metal and rockrete. They slowed as they neared and Cass felt her heart pounding in her throat. Brunt's hand found hers and squeezed.
Cass felt another wave of vomit building in her and, in a panic, she fought with all her strength to keep it down. She barely managed it and forced her breathing to remain quiet and even.
She could hear something sniffing and she wondered if this was when she died.
Whatever passed for a pack leader let out some cry that was a cross between a screech and a bark and then the monsters were on the move again, the sound of their clacking steps soon disappearing as they sped away.
They stayed there, unmoving, for a long while. Only when they were sure did Brunt squeeze out of the alcove, brandishing his autogun in front of him for all the good it would do him if one of the monsters had remained behind. None had.
He turned back to face Cass and helped her out and she nearly puked again.
"Do you think you're sick?" Brunt whispered.
"I… don't think so," Cass replied, glancing down at her stomach.
