WARHAMMER 40,000: A Thousand Tiny Suns (40k/Exalted Crossover!)

You gulped. "Okay...um..." You shifted in your seat, then turned to Kappa. "C-Can...can we send?"

"Yes, my magos," he said, bowing low.

"Right..." you whispered. You closed your eyes and tried to...call forth another memory. Something from an earlier time, something that might help you with this, right now. You breathed in behind your mask, feeling the pressure shifting. Then you breathed out. The camera was on and recording. "My name is 41-22. I am a Corpsman for the Death Korps of Krieg. Approximately a month and a half ago, an...unusual event took place during the fighting on this world. I seem to have been gifted with...a spark of the Emperor's divinity." You ducked your head forward and let the words flow from someplace you had never really realized was waiting behind your tongue. Your forehead glowed, and a tiny spark of light shone between your brow. Through leather and synthplast, it shone: The half circle of your caste mark, a pure golden radiance. "With this spark, I saved who I could and fought those I couldn't - the General of our operations, fearful of what he did not understand, tried to have me summarily executed but..."

Maybe be more polite about Amberly...
"...his Commissar saw the foolishness of his actions and chose to side with me."

Mostly true, even.
Amberly lifted her chin and nodded, quite smugly. You resisted the urge to kick her under the table.

"Now, the survivors of the great conflict here are gathered in a city - things are peaceful but...by the Emperor's name, we need those humanitarian supplies. I...will be there to meet you, alongside my, um..." You coughed. "S-Staff."

You hit send before you could delete everything you had just said. Your body trembled as Kit put his hands on your shoulders. "Well said," he murmured.

"You could have stood to outline my position more clearly in our current hierarchy," Amberly said, nodding. "Maybe mention that without my guidance in the field of battle, the final redoubt of the enemy might never have fallen so bloodlessly...you know, just for future advice. As I was taught by my father, in the very sitting room of his home..." She made a arcing gesture with her hand, as if to encompass the vastness of space. "Always let em talk about you, the telling works out about half the time, which is better than being a nobody, which works out none of the times."

You were silent.

"I don't think that means what you think that means, Amberly," you said.

"Silence," she snapped.

The landing field outside of City-1 was showing some wildflowers, blooming from between the mud. It was also raining. You stood in the rain without even noticing as water streamed down your slicker. Then a loud fomp sounded as a trench umbrella was deployed and fanned over your head. You turned, about to reprimand whoever had done it - trench umbrellas were for only fragile documents that couldn't get wet, not for people - and started in surprise to see the familiar gas mask of 55-95 and, behind him, 7-7. The two other Kriegers looked better than the last time you had seen them, and guilt started to gnaw at your stomach at having left them behind to focus on...on building things.

As if he could sense your thoughts, Kit murmured in your ear. "As the first of us to...get whatever this is...this...exalted status, I think you deserve the deference."

"M'lady," 7-7 said, her voice humble and uncertain.

You felt smaller and more distant than ever. Right now, you wished you could get on Gita, then ride and ride and ride away from here.

Instead, you watched as the clouds parted. A pair of streaming white plumes cut through it with a distant rumble of thunder, then swelled overhead. Agrav impellers hummed and the mud five hundred meters away started to roil and slosh like water. The wings of the two Thunderhawk gunships - both of them rigged for cargo transport rather than combat - flared out and they skidded the last few hundred meters with a slow humming. The sloshing mud stopped well before it got to you, and you...blinked a few times. They were like Valkyries, yes, but larger. Heavier. And their missile pods and side sponsons had been swapped out for massive cargo containers, which themselves started to lower to the ground with a quiet hum. The mud sloughed away from them as their agrav units almost touched them down, then shut down to let them slump down into the dirt and grime with a wet splash. The gangplanks lowered with a series of hydralic hisses, while Amberly shifted from foot to foot beside you. She had her own umbrella, and her commissar's hat, and her greatcoat, and her laspistol, and her chainsword. She fingered the brim of her hat, trying to stand as tall as she could without actually getting up onto her tip toes.

You blinked, taking a second glance.

"Cain, did you put a feather in your hat?"

"Shut up," she hissed as the first figures appeared on the gangplanks.

"Cain, are you wearing high heels?"

"Shhhhutup!"

The first of his majesty's Angels of Death coming down the gangplank were exactly as you had always imagined them from the illustrated children's books and holovid dramas: Their armor was bright blue and gleaming, and they moved with shocking, fluid grace despite the ceremite armor and synthsteel muscle covering their massive frames. Their helmets glittered and glinted in the raindrops, the water beading and cascading along them as if it didn't wish to stick to their sacred forms. They carried bolters - wrong, wrong, it should be Vulkites, Cavalier models, maybe a D8 or a D9 - and they fanned out to an honor guard formation around the gangplanks. Their armor too was wrong. Too simple. Missing parts. You reached up, trying to find a good way to smack these intrusive thoughts, these memories that weren't your memories out of your head.

My children. My poor children. Look at how you must work, with tools not fit for the Auxilia's levy conscripts.
The sensation was almost overpowering. You wanted to cry behind your mask. Instead, you stood up taller as another Ultramarine emerged. He was the Captain that had send the signal ahead of his ship. His helmet had a broad fan spreading from the top, and his armor had gold decorations that marked his rank. He looked around himself, then strode forward to the arrayed Guardsmen who waited and watched. You drew up a bit - and then blinked in shock as he dropped to one knee, bowing his head to you.

"Don't do that!" you exclaimed. "I-I'm Krieg!"

He reached up, taking his helmet off. His head was bald, save for a thin strip of gray-white hair that ran along the back of his scalp. Despite kneeling and bowing his head, he was still almost taller than you.

"It is for you being Krieg that I bow, honorable one," his voice was soft. "You fight, without implant, without armor, without bolter, and often, without hope. And yet, you fight and give your lives - many times so that we Ultramarines might be feted in honor that would better be laid at your feet. It is our way to return what we can to those who have given so much for so very little."

"T-That's wrong! Don't do that!" The words popped out before you could stop them.

The Captain chuckled and stood. "I have heard that before as well, from a man I believe was named 12-98," he said, his voice wry. "He was a corporal, and the last of his squad to survive. I remember him, and his men, and will do so until the Emperor sees fit to return me to his side. Now..." He looked down at you from his towering height. "I am Captain Brutus, of the Ultramarines. And my Librarian has...pondered what you have said. He says that there is no known iconography of the, ah, forehead symbol that you displayed in his records. But, also, he sensed no Chaos taint - either on your person or from the world itself. While that is no assurance, it is enough for me to take you at your word - that you have been...chosen, somehow."

You blushed, hard, with hands, shoulders, and behind your mask. You put your hands behind your back, wondering if this...this Angel himself - who had bowed to you? Bowed to...to Krieg? To your people? Not to your spark of divinity, not to what...what you were, but who you were? You were about to pass out as Brutus continued.

"We have brought down what are most needed in cities like this - medicae supplies, Chapter Serfs that know to use them with an apothecary leader. We have beacons for landing additional construction materials, and servitors who can assist in their establishment. However there is yet the question of where the Chaos forces have gone. Our navigator claims that a ship did leave this system a few days hence...it could be that our best chance to give chase to the fiend is to leave near immediately."

Your head was still spinning. Brutus turned to face you and Kit and Amberly. His bald head gleamed in the rain as he stood without worrying. Then he seemed to start. "Oh, forgive me, I do sometimes go on when I'm thinking. What was it you wished to say?"

"Uh...uh..." you said, brain spluttering.

---
Well?
[ ] "I'm sorry. About, um...the...the everything."
[ ] "T-Thanks. I...are all Ultramarines like you?"
[ ] Splutter incoherently, then go silent
[ ] "This is Kit! He's my husband. He's also Exalted." (Use Kit to distract the Ultramarine from you)
[ ] Write In

ALso...
[ ] Give chase to the Lord Cartheniax and his foul flock on the Battle Barge - taking all the important people of City-1 with you as adjutants, guides, advisors and assistants.
[ ] Leave Cartheniax to run - you need to head to the capital of the sub-sector, to make it known what you, Kit and Amberly can do
[ ] Call a council of everyone together to debate what must be done. You're not the Emperor, you can't give orders to his Angels!
[ ] Write in


Health: Fine
Anima: Glowing
Willpower: 5/5
Personal Motes: 13/13 | Peripheral Motes: 28/28 (Committed Motes: 5)
Limit: 1/10 (Trigger: Being stymied by indulges around her)
XP: 0 | Solar XP: 2
Major Projects: 0/5
SXP: 4 | GXP: 17 | WXP: 6