A Galaxy of Rust (Celestial Forge / 40K Pseudo SI)
- Thread starter HandleWithCare
- Start date
The celestial forges power would have to extend far beyond the warp and the concept of what Warhammer 40K considers a god in order to pull in items & knowledge & metaphysics from other fictional universe. So the celestial forge isn't a part of the warp it is above the warp. The main character doesn't worship the celestial forge. so no he's not a cultist and that doesn't make any sense. I think the celestial forge is symbiotically connected to him on a spiritual level and a physical level. So the celestial forge could be considered a part of him and that pretty much makes him a super god in 40K terms that has yet to realize his full power.
- Location
- Germany
As he is, Lehman would probably not be impressed with the Milksop 😅
Well...
It's interesting that the only alternative to "fiat reinforced common sense" is being an idiot 😅
To answer the question: it's not easy to write such a character without abusing meta knowledge. The cooling issue is a great example: The moment we reached the latest fight he realised he should have fixed the cooling problem. Does that mean I now have to go back and fix him not doing that? Because overlooking something is no longer allowed? Can he no longer be distracted? Should I write two pages for every chapter where he just iterates over his to do list? It's just not a fun way to write things, at least for me.
A better author may be able to do it right, but i found it was hindering me and robbed me of fun, so I dropped it.
As xcell has said, I would say it actually ranges above most gods, since it can grand powers far beyond what the average god can provide 🤔
I mean, Apeiron currently has his own Dyson sphere for power...
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- Location
- Belgium
Going off by the way it's written, I'd ditch the common sense perk. It seems unnecessarily difficult to both write a believable character, especially your main character at that, and also keep this perk in play.
Making mistakes or overlooking things is often handy to advance plot lines or show character development, it'd be a waste to just throw that away.
Maybe reintroduce it later? Right now, he's got the whole unsure-of-himself and in-constant-danger vibe about him, the bumbling newcomer who has to quickly adapt to survive, if that makes sense.
Probably best to have that perk when he's more sure of himself and more powerful for maximum power fantasy gains, or don't and still keep him human even when he's a technological demi-god.
FYI, I'm not a writer by any means and I'm probably wording this wrong, but here's my advice anyway.
Making mistakes or overlooking things is often handy to advance plot lines or show character development, it'd be a waste to just throw that away.
Maybe reintroduce it later? Right now, he's got the whole unsure-of-himself and in-constant-danger vibe about him, the bumbling newcomer who has to quickly adapt to survive, if that makes sense.
Probably best to have that perk when he's more sure of himself and more powerful for maximum power fantasy gains, or don't and still keep him human even when he's a technological demi-god.
FYI, I'm not a writer by any means and I'm probably wording this wrong, but here's my advice anyway.
If Common Sense makes the story harder to write, and setting aside 10 minutes to brainstorm how to limit it or work with it as a major theme doesn't work, just drop it. You're the DM, you get to set the game rules.
Your SI will already have a drastically different perspective than the 40k people, however, so you might be able to just make his worldview contrast the existing 40k denizens more instead of being an instant I Win button. If that's not what you're going for, then drop it.
One of my main writing projects has a precognitive MC and so I have felt this pain.... I do have some excellent reasons for the character to be precognitive, though, and it doesn't seem like you have those for this ability Yet.
Your SI will already have a drastically different perspective than the 40k people, however, so you might be able to just make his worldview contrast the existing 40k denizens more instead of being an instant I Win button. If that's not what you're going for, then drop it.
One of my main writing projects has a precognitive MC and so I have felt this pain.... I do have some excellent reasons for the character to be precognitive, though, and it doesn't seem like you have those for this ability Yet.
There's no reason why his goals can't be dumb; he just has to be smart about being dumb.
Given that this is 40K I feel like he would have had to be smart about even his stupidity anyway. Thinking about it this kind of gives you more freedom to characterize him instead of less; normally if you wrote him being stupid you'd need to either depict that getting him killed or circumstances being contrived to keep him alive but this way you can write him acting smart enough to keep himself alive even while believing stupid things.
Might I recommend changing the font of your story and rereading it to better take note of what that Perk should be reminding him of what he should intend to do?
Like man plans while god laughs and all, there's no reason why his intentions need to survive reality happening around him, but I feel like it shouldn't be too hard to get a small list of goals for him to have in the back of his mind along with some short notes about what he has encountered that could contribute to it.
Notably the goals themselves don't seem like they need to be particularly smart; they just need to be approached intelligently.
I mean...If it presents a problem then drop it like it's radioactive, sure, but also I feel like it presenting such a constant and immediate problem is a sign of something wrong in the characterization process. Like if he's not learning from his experiences in a way that this Perk seems to enforce then can he really be said to be being characterized by the setting?
- Location
- Belgium
The point of the perk is that it always applies, regardless of any extenuating circumstances, it forces the author into writing the character a certain way which might not always be conducive for storytelling.
Probably throwing shade to imply that consistent characterization is bad for story-telling but go off.
- Location
- Belgium
Not exactly what I meant, like I said I'm wording it badly.
It's more that a character should grow organically or feel like they're developing over time rather than just suddenly getting a perk and having it solve most of their issues?
I'm not saying the author should change the character entirely on a whim just for the plot, just to be clear, only that it shouldn't be a sudden switch and then a new baseline that will stay the same for the rest of the story because the perk doesn't allow for any change in this regard.
this whole post is really good actionable advice. thank you for making it.
I've struggled similarly to OP with giving my character a power that tends to take over the narrative and cuts down what obstacles you can throw at them.
It was looking like a point of frustration, which is why I was thinking it's not bad to toss it if needed. If Common Sense isn't a power that makes your imagination run wild why bother writing about it?
Especially since Common Sense as worded might bring out the pedantic nerds that'll go "why didn't the MC do this thing I thought of just now, idiot ball, bad" even when the previous characterization justified it. I can understand why the OP might not want to write about that power early on, lol.
Though honestly the Celestial Forge as a whole has that problem too - high-level it gives your character unimaginable power with which to change any world if they can last enough, but at a lower level there's plenty of individual powers that can absolutely take over a story and demand brainpower away from everything else.
I suppose the trick to stay motivated is to focus on what about the idea appeals to you.
Based on this comment I would say that it's not just your writing that's poor; I would recommend going back to that chapter of the story and rereading the Perk itself. From what I could tell it seems to just be a memory and relevance-assessment booster; relevance being dependent upon specific goals and intentions that's somewhat dynamic.
Oh thank Christ for that; I was trying to give good advice but I still worried that I was talking out of my ass there.
It might just be my me but I can't get behind that sort of "This does not spark joy" *Yeet!* energy; even if you don't enjoy anything other then throwing conflict at your characters, which I doubt most people do, it's still good to put your characters into other situations.
- Location
- Belgium
Thank you for that incredibly useful feedback, but I've already said what I had to say, if you don't agree then that's up to you.
Your opinions seem to be misinformed; of course I don't agree with them. Don't insinuate that that's somehow a flaw.
Yes it is bad. Humans actually arent consitent. Hell according to recent events even AI is inconsistent.
This assertion is incorrect.
I don't know why the fuss over the common sense perk. Just treat it how you've been using Butlerian Understanding so far. If you are looking at something and actively thinking about it, it might kick in and bring up something that you suddenly recall. That's about it.
O.k. we know that its supposed to be a bit more than that, but writing super int characters is difficult as writers generally don't have a super int of their own. Fake it until you make it. There are many, many int boosts or super mad genius ones in the CF. Any them could actually do the same sort of thing.
Just treat it as a remind or bringing up that forgotten or background knowledge when he is actually thinking about a project or such. O.k. we know it's supposed too be always at every action, but that's a bit much to think about or actually work through as a writer. It's fine to tone it down a bit to what you can handle and run with things that way.
I've been more annoyed that you've had the Enchantment (Silmarillion) = Warp and that it sounds like anything magic will be warpish. Warp stuff is more psionics than actual magic. The only perks in the forge that you should have to worry about are those eldar ones about bone singer or world singer if I recall the phrase.
There wasn't really anything that would provide human based warp stuff in there. The WH40K stuff is mainly archmagos. You do get a field and o.k. you could pick warp related stuff, which I've seen done once.
All the random magic stuff in the forge being treated as WH40K warp, bugs the hell out me. Basically it makes them all a massive negative for very little positive. The CF can rewrite existence and bring magic into settings where it didn't exist. If chakra or aura didn't exist, it does now after you get those perks. That's why forcing a magic perk to map to the warp doesn't quite work.
I could actually understand that the locals freaking out about him using magic and fearing about it being warp related, but it actually having nothing at all to do with the warp or corrupting him or those that use his various magic items.
The common sense perk is rather meh compared to that.
Your pacing needs adjusting somewhere. It's like 3 days since he woke up there. He fixed the trashdozer and spent a night there. It was a 6-8 hour trip to the column city. He worked the grand total of one day. Then the next day the traders come pick him up.
The MC and those Fixers bonded a ton for spending the grand total of one day together.
I had to re-read the entire fic to see if I was missing some time somewhere.
I'd say adjust it so the traders only come by once every other month or so. They just came last week, so you'll need to work here for a month or two until they visit again. That feels much better. He'd be working for room and board as well as for his passage up with the traders. The local elders don't know how good of a Fixer he actually is.
A month or two would be plenty of time for him to bond with those other fixers, and leave a pile of fixed goods as well as a few repaired "gifts."
He seems in a massive rush to get somewhere and find out "when" he is.
Here is secret. It doesn't remotely matter. He is in WH40K. He needs plans on how to deal with "everything." Local wildlife, humans, mutates, transhumans, posthumans, pskyers, eldar, farseers, orks, krorks, daemons, The Four, Necrons, Ctan, Tyranids, pirates, chaos space marines, The Warp, and the Mechanicus. They are all going to be issues.
The only way to avoid it is rolling that Star Gate perk that includes the ancient's database so he builds a ship with their hyperdrive to another galaxy.
Oh, there is a naming date difference. You had Mechanicum at first. That was fine, that's a 30K organization. Then you had the Mechanicus recruiting at the column city which is a 40k organization. I'm pretty sure they were founded some time after the 30K, but not sure how long.
The Horus Heresy is around 31K. The Mechanicum were with Horus. The naming change, purge, and rebranding to Mechanicus happened shortly thereafter. Ever after they were called the Dark Mechanicum and were chaos aligned. Before 31K the Mechanicum were the group that would morph into the cog boys and girls. They basically had a civil war during that time.
So the name of the organization that is popping by to recruit the locals is somewhat important.
Depending on the time frame, I could see the MC freaked out about there being a Mechanicum and expecting the Mechanicus.
O.k. we know that its supposed to be a bit more than that, but writing super int characters is difficult as writers generally don't have a super int of their own. Fake it until you make it. There are many, many int boosts or super mad genius ones in the CF. Any them could actually do the same sort of thing.
Just treat it as a remind or bringing up that forgotten or background knowledge when he is actually thinking about a project or such. O.k. we know it's supposed too be always at every action, but that's a bit much to think about or actually work through as a writer. It's fine to tone it down a bit to what you can handle and run with things that way.
I've been more annoyed that you've had the Enchantment (Silmarillion) = Warp and that it sounds like anything magic will be warpish. Warp stuff is more psionics than actual magic. The only perks in the forge that you should have to worry about are those eldar ones about bone singer or world singer if I recall the phrase.
There wasn't really anything that would provide human based warp stuff in there. The WH40K stuff is mainly archmagos. You do get a field and o.k. you could pick warp related stuff, which I've seen done once.
All the random magic stuff in the forge being treated as WH40K warp, bugs the hell out me. Basically it makes them all a massive negative for very little positive. The CF can rewrite existence and bring magic into settings where it didn't exist. If chakra or aura didn't exist, it does now after you get those perks. That's why forcing a magic perk to map to the warp doesn't quite work.
I could actually understand that the locals freaking out about him using magic and fearing about it being warp related, but it actually having nothing at all to do with the warp or corrupting him or those that use his various magic items.
The common sense perk is rather meh compared to that.
Your pacing needs adjusting somewhere. It's like 3 days since he woke up there. He fixed the trashdozer and spent a night there. It was a 6-8 hour trip to the column city. He worked the grand total of one day. Then the next day the traders come pick him up.
The MC and those Fixers bonded a ton for spending the grand total of one day together.
I had to re-read the entire fic to see if I was missing some time somewhere.
I'd say adjust it so the traders only come by once every other month or so. They just came last week, so you'll need to work here for a month or two until they visit again. That feels much better. He'd be working for room and board as well as for his passage up with the traders. The local elders don't know how good of a Fixer he actually is.
A month or two would be plenty of time for him to bond with those other fixers, and leave a pile of fixed goods as well as a few repaired "gifts."
He seems in a massive rush to get somewhere and find out "when" he is.
Here is secret. It doesn't remotely matter. He is in WH40K. He needs plans on how to deal with "everything." Local wildlife, humans, mutates, transhumans, posthumans, pskyers, eldar, farseers, orks, krorks, daemons, The Four, Necrons, Ctan, Tyranids, pirates, chaos space marines, The Warp, and the Mechanicus. They are all going to be issues.
The only way to avoid it is rolling that Star Gate perk that includes the ancient's database so he builds a ship with their hyperdrive to another galaxy.
Oh, there is a naming date difference. You had Mechanicum at first. That was fine, that's a 30K organization. Then you had the Mechanicus recruiting at the column city which is a 40k organization. I'm pretty sure they were founded some time after the 30K, but not sure how long.
The Horus Heresy is around 31K. The Mechanicum were with Horus. The naming change, purge, and rebranding to Mechanicus happened shortly thereafter. Ever after they were called the Dark Mechanicum and were chaos aligned. Before 31K the Mechanicum were the group that would morph into the cog boys and girls. They basically had a civil war during that time.
So the name of the organization that is popping by to recruit the locals is somewhat important.
Depending on the time frame, I could see the MC freaked out about there being a Mechanicum and expecting the Mechanicus.
Specimen Bio-Tank (Resident Evil) 100: Well, your B.O.W. specimens have to come from somewhere don't they? They don't just pop out of the ground like those plebeian zombies, and what if you need to make some adjustments? Upon purchasing this, you gain access to a sophisticated bio-tank which is filled with a special fluid. This will not only ensure the B.O.W. is docile and unconscious while immersed, but it also comes with the tools and devices to monitor and make adjustments to the subject inside as needed. Evil laugh not included.
Butlerian Understanding (Frank Hebert's Dune) 400: There is little doubt that much was lost to the Butlerian Jihad no matter how necessary it might have been. Among those killed was Holtzman himself, the discoverer of the Holtzman Effect that allows for folding space as well as slow shields and suspenders.
Only the Technicians of Ix and the Lords of Richesse really maintained any interest in advancing technology, while the rest of the Known Universe, fearful of the return of the Thinking Machines, fell into stagnation on the technological front. As one of the few who has maintained not only an interest in technology but knowledge of the scientific methods, you have developed what others might call techno-empathy.
This is a deep, some would say fundamental, intuition into how machines function or fail to function as the case may be. You can intuit a machine's function or weaknesses simply by looking at it, as well as judge what it can do and how you can break them, and how to improve them simply by watching it run for a few moments. Not only that, but you know how to understand the fundamental psychology of a thinking machine, how to manipulate, limit, or liberate such a machine, and how to (perhaps) convince it not to seek to destroy or control humanity.
You can fundamentally understand any machine or technology you're exposed to, though you'll have to experiment with it and test the limits of it to maximize this understanding. Note, this isn't Technopathic control over machines, merely the ability to feel how they function... of course, it also allows you to intuit any kind of machine password, no matter how unlikely cracking it might otherwise be.
Eccentric Talk (Medaka Box Abnormal) 200: It's so not cool to run out of bullets in the middle of a firefight. Dramatic? Sure, at the right time, but it is hella not fun to find yourself in that situation. Seems like you needn't worry from now on as any weapon you have just doesn't run out of ammunition. Whether it uses bullets or energy or something weird like rocks or rubbish, it looks like firing that stuff out doesn't actually get rid of it from within the weapon itself. Emptying the gun wouldn't let you take out as much ammo as you want, it only works when you're actually using it in the weapon.
Dr Shen, I presume? (Endless Space) 200: You are really knowledgeable at learning from your foes. You always seem to learn something new whenever you salvage enemies equipment. New weapons, armor, agriculture, the works. Every piece of enemy salvage you obtain gives you new insight into fields of science you had not yet explored. Beating the crap out of a caveman won't teach you how to make new laser cannons, but it will give you new insight into obsidian knapping methods, or animal hide tanning. Knowledge gained is related to what you are looking at.
Enchantment (Silmarillion) 400: The Elves are capable of great works of Enchantment, able to infuse their spirits into things they create and tie into the natural forces of Arda. Rings of power, magical orbs that can see far distance, runes of power crafted alongside the Dwarves. You are an expert on the path of enchantment. Non-weapon enchanted items are your expertise and with enough time and training you could potentially create a ring of power to rival even that of Sauron or craft something in the like of the mighty Silmarils.
Wandmaker (Starbound) 200: There is more to life than just technology. You have mastered the mysterious process of binding elemental phenomena to seemingly harmless wands and staves, allowing those that use them to summon up fire or ice or acid or other stranger effects. With practice, the power of the effects your wands and staves can create will grow, and you could even manage to bind multiple effects to a single weapon.
Endless Bag of Glowstone (Minecraft) 100: You get a small bag which inexplicably contains a full stack of Glowstone Dust. It refills once a week. Handy for lighting up your surroundings, keeping the monsters at bay.
Extragalactic Tech (Star Wars) 200:Exo-technology is a field of science that specialized in studying in combining the technologies of various species of the galaxy. Your nature as a Jumper allows you to go beyond merely marrying the design sensibilities of several alien peoples. You easily blend the the varying physical laws and examples of causality you've encountered in the creation of any one thing.
Uncommonly Good Common Sense (Freefall) 200: While this alone won't turn you into a genius nor give you information you didn't already have, it will help you in applying your knowledge. Any time that something you already know becomes relevant that information comes to mind immediately, without causing any distress or distraction. You'll never make the same mistake twice and might not even make it once. Plans that have problems or contradictions in them become obvious. If you were an expert pickpocket you would never fall for someone else using your own tricks against you, and even if you had always been on the straight and narrow if some Squid bumps into you and tries to sell you a watch that coincidentally matches the one you just lost you'll be able to realize that it is in fact yours. One free suggestion for buyers of this perk, reading about the scientific method as well as logical fallacies would be a great help for you.
Butlerian Understanding (Frank Hebert's Dune) 400: There is little doubt that much was lost to the Butlerian Jihad no matter how necessary it might have been. Among those killed was Holtzman himself, the discoverer of the Holtzman Effect that allows for folding space as well as slow shields and suspenders.
Only the Technicians of Ix and the Lords of Richesse really maintained any interest in advancing technology, while the rest of the Known Universe, fearful of the return of the Thinking Machines, fell into stagnation on the technological front. As one of the few who has maintained not only an interest in technology but knowledge of the scientific methods, you have developed what others might call techno-empathy.
This is a deep, some would say fundamental, intuition into how machines function or fail to function as the case may be. You can intuit a machine's function or weaknesses simply by looking at it, as well as judge what it can do and how you can break them, and how to improve them simply by watching it run for a few moments. Not only that, but you know how to understand the fundamental psychology of a thinking machine, how to manipulate, limit, or liberate such a machine, and how to (perhaps) convince it not to seek to destroy or control humanity.
You can fundamentally understand any machine or technology you're exposed to, though you'll have to experiment with it and test the limits of it to maximize this understanding. Note, this isn't Technopathic control over machines, merely the ability to feel how they function... of course, it also allows you to intuit any kind of machine password, no matter how unlikely cracking it might otherwise be.
Eccentric Talk (Medaka Box Abnormal) 200: It's so not cool to run out of bullets in the middle of a firefight. Dramatic? Sure, at the right time, but it is hella not fun to find yourself in that situation. Seems like you needn't worry from now on as any weapon you have just doesn't run out of ammunition. Whether it uses bullets or energy or something weird like rocks or rubbish, it looks like firing that stuff out doesn't actually get rid of it from within the weapon itself. Emptying the gun wouldn't let you take out as much ammo as you want, it only works when you're actually using it in the weapon.
Dr Shen, I presume? (Endless Space) 200: You are really knowledgeable at learning from your foes. You always seem to learn something new whenever you salvage enemies equipment. New weapons, armor, agriculture, the works. Every piece of enemy salvage you obtain gives you new insight into fields of science you had not yet explored. Beating the crap out of a caveman won't teach you how to make new laser cannons, but it will give you new insight into obsidian knapping methods, or animal hide tanning. Knowledge gained is related to what you are looking at.
Enchantment (Silmarillion) 400: The Elves are capable of great works of Enchantment, able to infuse their spirits into things they create and tie into the natural forces of Arda. Rings of power, magical orbs that can see far distance, runes of power crafted alongside the Dwarves. You are an expert on the path of enchantment. Non-weapon enchanted items are your expertise and with enough time and training you could potentially create a ring of power to rival even that of Sauron or craft something in the like of the mighty Silmarils.
Wandmaker (Starbound) 200: There is more to life than just technology. You have mastered the mysterious process of binding elemental phenomena to seemingly harmless wands and staves, allowing those that use them to summon up fire or ice or acid or other stranger effects. With practice, the power of the effects your wands and staves can create will grow, and you could even manage to bind multiple effects to a single weapon.
Endless Bag of Glowstone (Minecraft) 100: You get a small bag which inexplicably contains a full stack of Glowstone Dust. It refills once a week. Handy for lighting up your surroundings, keeping the monsters at bay.
Extragalactic Tech (Star Wars) 200:Exo-technology is a field of science that specialized in studying in combining the technologies of various species of the galaxy. Your nature as a Jumper allows you to go beyond merely marrying the design sensibilities of several alien peoples. You easily blend the the varying physical laws and examples of causality you've encountered in the creation of any one thing.
Uncommonly Good Common Sense (Freefall) 200: While this alone won't turn you into a genius nor give you information you didn't already have, it will help you in applying your knowledge. Any time that something you already know becomes relevant that information comes to mind immediately, without causing any distress or distraction. You'll never make the same mistake twice and might not even make it once. Plans that have problems or contradictions in them become obvious. If you were an expert pickpocket you would never fall for someone else using your own tricks against you, and even if you had always been on the straight and narrow if some Squid bumps into you and tries to sell you a watch that coincidentally matches the one you just lost you'll be able to realize that it is in fact yours. One free suggestion for buyers of this perk, reading about the scientific method as well as logical fallacies would be a great help for you.
- Pronouns
- Him/He
I think it would be pretty easy to just retcon the common sense perk and just pretend that roll never happened or just give yourself two hundred points or something.
Chapter 6 - The Inquisitor
- Location
- Germany
Gilgax turned to me as I followed him out. "Well," he began, "this was an invigorating start to the day."
"If you say so," I answered wearily, exhausted from the adrenaline crash.
"Let's find you a place to stay and clean up. Then we can talk further."
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Our agreement was about you taking me up. We never said a word about me joining you." Gilgax shot me a sharp look and I gave him my best smarmy smile. "Of course, I would be happy to negotiate a contract for joining up with you."
He scoffed but relaxed slightly. For the first time, there was something like acknowledgment in his eyes.
"But before that, I have questions." I looked him straight in the eye. "First of all, what year is it? In the Imperial Calendar, I mean."
He rolled his eyes. "The Trashrats couldn't even tell you that?"
I frowned. "Hey, some of them were nice people…"
"Sure. To you. And I'm not saying they're not nice people or anything. Just Trashrats." I sighed and gave up. I didn't need my common sense power to tell me that trying to fight the various prejudices, racism and other -isms in the Imperium was a waste of energy.
"We are in the year 089, of M42, in the Hive of Silaxis on the world of Curranthum in the Spartus Sector, Segmentum Tempestus."
Ah yes, Tempestus, Spartus this told me...almost nothing. I did not remember much about specific Segmentums. Tempestus...had a lot of Orks? Maybe?
Eighty-nine forty-two, now that was much more significant. I was close to the 'edge of canon' then, Guilliman's Indomitus Crusade was still raging. It meant I couldn't prevent most of the canon atrocities. It meant threats like the Necron and Tyranids were now fully active. It meant Cadia had fallen and the Rift existed.
On the other hand, it was also the era I remembered most about. And having Guilliman around was a relief. One of the few sane Primarchs (perhaps even the only one?), he was reasonable and pragmatic enough he could intervene on my behalf. Much more likely to than his own father, if we were honest. Assuming I lived long enough to get his attention, of course.
Okay. Okay, I could work with this. I just have to repeat it often enough to believe it.
"And this is ... a Hive world?"
He shrugged. "I think that's the official classification, yes."
"Alright...and what does the world produce?"
"A little bit of everything, I think. There is a huge Mechanicus Manufactorum to the south. I know there are orbital yards too."
Huh. Okay, maybe ROB had been thinking about this more deeply. A sort of general manufacturing world was perfect for someone with the Celestial Forge in their head...or soul or wherever.
"Any notable local forces? Astartes chapter or…?"
He gave me a pitying look. "You think Astartes are real?"
I opened my mouth. I closed it again. "I heard someone talking about them…"
He rolled his eyes. "Trashrats. Nah, don't believe everything they told you. We do have a Sister of Battle Chapter, though. The Sisters of Our Heavy Bolter."
I was struck by the urge to laugh at the name (Our Lady of the Worthless Miracle, anyone?) and groan in frustration. Wonderful, my very own chapter of paranoid, zealous Witchhunter bitches. And I was a witch. Hurray! I shook my head.
"Alright, thanks. Now...about your outfit. It's pretty obvious it isn't exactly legal so to speak but...the Mechanicus tolerates it?" I really didn't want to get on the shit list of the red-robed toaster humpers.
"Oh yes. Like they tolerate the Trashrats. I think they see us as part of the recycling system." I looked firmly into his eyes and tried to spot a lie but did not find any. Well, what he said tracked. The Techpriests would consider humans as sort of untidy system components.
"And I guess the Arbites don't really patrol the Underhive?"
He looked at me surprised. "Underhive? We're in the Lower Hive."
I blinked. "We are? But the Underwastes…"
He snorted. "You mean Temporary Level Storage and Distribution Hub Six?"
"Temporary...wait, six? On that level? But it was dozens of kilometers in diameter! How big is this Hive?"
"Hive Silaxis is the biggest Orbital Spire on the planet," Gilgax said with all the pride of a local boy bragging about his hometown.
An Orbital Spire? That meant a fixed structure that reached all the way into space, so at least a hundred kilometers tall, if you considered the old accepted limit where space officially began. Holy shit. Most of those hundred kilometers wouldn't be inhabited. I think. But that was still a shit ton of arcology-city. It also meant there was a high chance those shipyards he mentioned were right above us. Interesting and very valuable knowledge. Still…
"How many people live here?"
He shrugged. "Ten billion? Twenty? Does it matter?"
Not immediately, no, but holy shit. There might very well be more people living here than there had been on my Earth total! Given that the sprawling waste collection I had seen actually seemed pretty tame. Guess 40K tech was relatively efficient.
"Okay, so Arbites and Mechanicus tolerate your little op here…"
"With the right donations for good causes occasionally…"
"Right. So I guess, more or less legitimate trading, gambling dens, that sort of thing? I don't need any details just...nothing involving kids, right?"
His face darkened. "Who do you think we are, nobles?"
That had seemed genuine. Okay, I could work with that. I mean, let's be real, there was most likely still a ton of fucked up shit Gilgax was directly involved with but...this was 40K. I was willing to make compromises until I was hopefully empowered enough to make changes.
As if in reaction to that, another star was secured by the Forge, dragged down and merged with my soul. The star had come from the Design Constellation, Subcluster Quality and was called Customized Weapons. It also came from a world I recognized. XCOM. The name triggered memories of save-scumming when one of my guys missed a 95% headshot while he was so close to the enemy his gun clipped through the other's head. I really hoped this wouldn't translate into my work here.
The power granted me the ability to make every design even better, more streamlined, more efficient. Despite its name, it wasn't limited to just weapons but extended beyond that as well. It was a general feel and information on how an item could be adapted for personal use. From adjusting grips and seats for ergonomics to tuning screens for alien eyes. Butlerian Understanding already included a general 'how to make it better' aspect, but this was more focused.
I thought of my lasgun and immediately half a dozen ideas for improving it flickered through my mind. I shook myself.
"Good. Let's talk shop."
"We will provide shelter and food, in return, you repair our shit." Gilgax immediately said.
"Nice try. I'll take shelter, food, and forty percent of everything I repair that you sell."
"I like you. You're funny. For everything we do, five percent max."
I scoffed. "Please. You won't sell anything without me. Plus, I already fought for you. Twenty."
"Ten. We will need to provide tools and materials as well, right?"
I thought about it. Of course, Gilgax would be taking heavy advantage of me, just like the Rasche Tribe had done, honestly. But then again, all I really needed was a head start in relative safety. If my memory did not fail me (absolutely a possibility) the Forge would eventually allow me to make my own food, medicine...sooner or later I would become independent of all outside support. Once that happened I could ditch Gilgax. Or anyone else, really.
"Fine. Ten. With an option to renegotiate at a later date." I mostly added the last part to avoid suspicion. We shook on it.
"Good," Gilgax said brightly, satisfied with a deal that favored him heavily. "Let's find you a place. And, no offense, a shower."
I resisted the urge to sniff my armpits. "For accommodation, I will need things with a few locks to store my stuff. Depending on what my workshop will look like I may want to work on a few tricky things in private."
He nodded. "Not a problem. This entire area was part of the original design of this Hive, we think. It's all fairly luxurious. Another reason Irgu wants it so badly."
Turns out he didn't lie. The flat he led me to wasn't even small by the standards of my old world, it had a bedroom, a small kitchenette, and even its own bathroom. I was surprised at the latter one. I had expected communal showers or something. But for the original builders, that was probably a base aspect of accommodation. There were actually signs the small 'flat' had been bigger back in the day and had been subdivided. Probably after the fall of the Federation. Still, it was very acceptable. Most importantly, it had a recessed lockable storage space. I could lock the main door, the bedroom door, and then open the way to my private little universe. Well, I would as soon as I repaired the broken locks. It was perfect.
I put my meager little belongings down, keeping my money on me, and laid down on the ancient mattress with a deep sigh, ignoring the Warp cacophony at the edge of my perception.
This...this was fine, wasn't it? I was in relative safety, had a base of operations, resources...all until the Forge could provide for me. Until then I would have to wait, try to ignore the Warp as best as I could and keep my head down. Training wasn't really an option, not until I found a place...I sat up in my bed. I was an idiot.
I paused, looking at the door. Could I risk it?...Yes, I had to know.
Reaching into my pocket I felt for the silver key...that obligingly fell into my hand. Quickly I went over to the closet-thing and pointed it at the spot where the lock was. As expected the key locked in the empty air and allowed me to open it.
The actual room doors slid into the walls, like proper sci-fi doors but the closet door swung open into the room, probably to save space in the adjacent wall. Anyway, behind the opening laid my entry exactly like I had seen before. I stepped through eagerly, stood still and listened. And slumped. Fuck. The Warp was still there. It was...muted though. Quieter.
I had hoped my personal pocket universe would be isolated from the nightmare realm, but although there was some effect, it was not absolute. Actually...I felt… frowning I stared at the entrance to my Cosmic Warehouse. There was something there. Something...beautiful?
I stepped through the large doorway and stared around. I didn't have to look far. The endless shelves held exactly one object. A small bag of Glowstone sat on a shelf close to me. And radiated golden power.
Confused, I stepped closer, involuntarily sneaking closer, as if the bag was a dangerous animal.
Exactly then the Forge tried to make a connection to the Clothing Constellation. The mote was too quick and continued on.
Blinking, I refocused on the bag. In my perception, it was radiating golden power. It felt...it felt like that hint I had gotten of the Astronomicon, somewhat.
Wait, what? Hang on, roll back, what did I know about Glowstone? It came from a crafting game...it made light which kept monsters away in the dark. Adding it to certain potions gave positive effects, right? Enhanced them? So it kept monsters away and supported humans. Translate this ability to the world of 40K…
I facepalmed. Seriously? Frigging glowing dust from Minecraft was a source of Anathema power? It wasn't very strong power, mind you, just a glow compared to the blazing fire of the Astronomicon, but it was undeniably the same kind of energy.
Wait, did that fix my issue? I couldn't train my new powers, could not become better at being a Psyker because training here, unprotected, was too dangerous. And I couldn't protect myself better without training first. But if I had Anathema Powder that could protect me, right? It wasn't a lot, perhaps five hundred grams, but it refilled once a week.
Lay it out in a circle around me or even get it onto the walls somehow and it would be my own magic circle of protection. But...it wasn't passive protection, was it? It would literally glow with the Emperor's might, keeping demons at bay. And while my extra-dimensional space was at least somewhat removed from the Warp, I had no way of checking if that was enough...until something big and discolored and evil tried to rip my soul in two. No thanks. Though there was another option.
Thoughtfully I took the bag with me. It was a cloth drawstring bag, very traditional and fitting.I walked the few meters over to my garage-hobby-workshop.
First thing I did was drink from the pure water. I really needed a canteen for that, it tasted so good!
Then I looked around while thinking. Ah, there were the hammer and axe I had taken as my first improvised weapons. I had lost them sometime in the scuffle with the Ravagers without even noticing it. Now, more than forty-eight hours later they were back again, slightly dusty, but none the worse for wear. I would clean them later.
For now, my attention was on something else. Among the material my workshop supplied were rods of different materials and lengths. From aluminum to wood.
I had another power I had not used so far. The ability to make magic staffs from this Starbound thing. Each staff could create elemental effects, fire, electricity, ice and poison. As weapons, they were useless, the base level I could make right now was weak and lasted only for sixty seconds or so before ending. Even basic 40K weapons were far deadlier. And wouldn't get me labeled a witch and burned at the stake.
But there was another aspect. These staffs needed my own, personal spiritual power. And, as the power said, as I trained with making and using them that power would increase. In other words, my spiritual might and presence in the warp would grow as I trained with these.
Additionally, these things were strictly elemental in nature. No soul-binding or wrestling with demons required. It was hardly harmless, here in the 40K world, but considerably less than LOTR style magic.
But was it harmless enough? Here, where the Warp was muted? The only way to find out would be to try it...I shuddered as I thought of the consequences.
First things first.
I took some of the simplest sheets of metal and began to manufacture a simple box. I still had no idea how to work metal or weld or anything, but I had tools and power tools for metal and those counted enough as technology that Butlerian Understanding automatically told me how to use them effectively. In no time, with sure, experienced movements I had a simple box with a lid that was secure and waterproof. Then I poured in the Glowstone Dust from the bag carefully and closed the waterproof lid.
I eyed my creation. Hm. Simple, unadorned aluminum, because I did not know how to do ornamentation. Solid craftsmanship, nothing fancy.
It was also the first piece of 'technology' I had actually crafted since getting the Forge. Oh sure, I had repaired and fixed tons of stuff, but this was the first thing I made on my own. As far as first projects went, a storage box for Emperor-empowered magic dust wasn't so bad.
The bag would refill in a week and I would slowly collect more and more Anathema power...which would undoubtedly become noticeable in the Warp sooner or later, workshop dimming or not. Though...was the connection still there if I dismissed the door?
I sighed. This made my basic dilemma no easier. Should I confront the Warp problem now, with all the risk that entailed, or wait?
The problem was, both courses of action made sense from a common sense perspective. Avoiding demon possession for now but also training psychic might for later. It all depended on the Forge, again. If I got a power that hid me or protected me, then experimenting now was stupid. If that took a while then leaving my power fallow was a risk.
I also had no idea what the outside situation was. All I could do was hope I had some time.
Inquisitor Aralev Treadway stared down past the transparent Plasteel of his personal sitting room at the slowly turning world of Curranthum.
The posting here had officially been a 'sabbatical', the period of rest Inquisitor retinues occasionally underwent to recover, repair, and rearm.
But the truth was obvious. It was a punishment detail. Worse, it was a blatant trap, a tripwire for his career. You see, Curranthum was a massive world, with an estimated two hundred to two hundred fifty billion inhabitants.
There was always something here, tiny cults, brewing uprisings, hidden xenos, something. And sooner or later they would flare up. Most that would come of it would be a bombed-out Arbites station or something, but inevitably it would be blamed on him, for not finding a handful of tiny cultists in a literal ocean of bodies, for not using his retinue of a few thousand people to sift through every Underhive and ashwaste on the planet centimeter by centimeter.
That's what you got for uncovering a Nurgle cult among higher nobility on a prominent world in Segmentum Solar.
It wasn't so bad, truth be told. Other Inquisitors knew about groxshit details like this and would not care, but it would still be a waste of his time in a time when every loyal man and woman was needed.
Yet it was also galling for another reason: when he had joined, back under Inquisitor Ha'kto, he had believed the Inquisition to stand above its peers, untouched by corruption or power plays. How painfully naive.
The Inquisition was forced to play politics like any other Imperial organisation and punishing one of their own for stepping on the toes of the nobility was part of that.
An Inquisitor could accuse, arrest, and even kill every noble in the Imperium, of course. And inevitably, if that happened too many times without the guilt being crystal clear afterwards it would lead to their work becoming impossible, also of course. People could do a lot to inhibit an Inquisitor without breaking a single law. A good Inquisitor was both unafraid of those in power as well as a cunning diplomat.
So now he was stuck here. Useless. And now this. He glowered at the piece of paper in his hand as if it personally offended him.
"Another one?" Kenya Hashiri asked behind him.
He turned to his Troop Commander with a sigh.
Kenya often kept him company when he worked, using the comfortable seating area and quiet of the room to work on her own paperwork.
"Yes." he answered her, "Splinter Fleet Gorgon has stopped at the edge of the Tolbar system, seemingly for no reason, like the other ones."
Kenya took the note he had gotten from their Astropathic Choir and read it with a frown.
Even a few decades ago they would have gotten these messages months, even years from now. All Inquisitors reported their information upwards where it was centrally collected and then given out again as considered necessary. For this reason, the Inquisitors in the field had often maintained a private set of information to share and disseminate news more effectively.
Lord Commander Guilliman had done away with at least some of those restrictions. Information considered relevant for the whole Imperium, like the movement and position of the Tyranid Hive fleets, could now be sent as a form of broadcast, decipherable by every Inquisitor in range. This ensured that critical information could be picked up and resent, making emergency information far more consistent in its travels. It also cut back down on reaction time and on at least two occasions he had heard of, had allowed Inquisitors to make connections between their own work and sudden Hive fleet course changes, giving worlds forewarning of an impending invasion.
But now...
"This is the eighth splinter fleet that has just stopped." Kenya declared unhappily.
"The eighth we know of." he corrected her. "And all over Primus. For all we know, every Hive fleet in the galaxy may have stopped moving."
As a part of Ordo Malleus the movement of xenos was usually not in his remit. But given the universal threat of the Tyranids, all Inquisitors were kept abreast of their movements and actions. Especially because these days stumbling over a Genestealer cult was an ever-present possibility.
"Why?" Kenya asked, shaking her blonde head, baffled. The same question all in the know had been asking for days now.
It seemed the Hive fleets had begun stopping as of roughly three days ago. Another day for observation and when no change in behavior had occurred the first observers had sent out baffled messages. Sometime at the fringes of systems they invaded, sometimes between stars, in one case during the ongoing invasion of a world, the Tyranids just...stopped. Retreated. Broke off any engagement.
At first, the observers had thought it some tactical move or preparation for something. Not the first time a Hivefleet stopped for a course correction after all. But that was usually followed by an immediate reorientation and re-engaging of FTL. Not just hanging around space motionlessly.
"No one seems to know yet, but it will hardly be a pleasant reason."
Kenya nodded grimly. Treadway shared much of his confidential information with his trusted staff, as most Inquisitors did. As such, Kenya had a better picture of the galaxy's reality than ninety-nine point nine-nine (and then a lot more nines) percent of the Imperium. Even with the miraculous return of the Primarch Guilliman and the hope and newfound resolve that had kindled, their problems were bigger than ever. Guilliman's return had not miraculously solved every problem they had, though he had already implemented changes that Aralev approved of. The Primarch was racing across the galaxy, powerful heroes by his side, throwing back Humanity's enemies!...And he was stuck here doing busywork.
With another deep sigh, he turned back to the window. Well, no point in being maudlin. And who knew? Maybe he would even find something worthwhile down there.
Author's Note: Da da daaaaam!
At least Eric now knows where and when. That's good, right? That will fix things? 😀
Customized Weapons (XCOM) 100: You know that efficiency is number one, because waste is a thief. You know how to make the best designs better, and will ensure that the equipment in use is ergonomic, streamlined, and efficient.
"If you say so," I answered wearily, exhausted from the adrenaline crash.
"Let's find you a place to stay and clean up. Then we can talk further."
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Our agreement was about you taking me up. We never said a word about me joining you." Gilgax shot me a sharp look and I gave him my best smarmy smile. "Of course, I would be happy to negotiate a contract for joining up with you."
He scoffed but relaxed slightly. For the first time, there was something like acknowledgment in his eyes.
"But before that, I have questions." I looked him straight in the eye. "First of all, what year is it? In the Imperial Calendar, I mean."
He rolled his eyes. "The Trashrats couldn't even tell you that?"
I frowned. "Hey, some of them were nice people…"
"Sure. To you. And I'm not saying they're not nice people or anything. Just Trashrats." I sighed and gave up. I didn't need my common sense power to tell me that trying to fight the various prejudices, racism and other -isms in the Imperium was a waste of energy.
"We are in the year 089, of M42, in the Hive of Silaxis on the world of Curranthum in the Spartus Sector, Segmentum Tempestus."
Ah yes, Tempestus, Spartus this told me...almost nothing. I did not remember much about specific Segmentums. Tempestus...had a lot of Orks? Maybe?
Eighty-nine forty-two, now that was much more significant. I was close to the 'edge of canon' then, Guilliman's Indomitus Crusade was still raging. It meant I couldn't prevent most of the canon atrocities. It meant threats like the Necron and Tyranids were now fully active. It meant Cadia had fallen and the Rift existed.
On the other hand, it was also the era I remembered most about. And having Guilliman around was a relief. One of the few sane Primarchs (perhaps even the only one?), he was reasonable and pragmatic enough he could intervene on my behalf. Much more likely to than his own father, if we were honest. Assuming I lived long enough to get his attention, of course.
Okay. Okay, I could work with this. I just have to repeat it often enough to believe it.
"And this is ... a Hive world?"
He shrugged. "I think that's the official classification, yes."
"Alright...and what does the world produce?"
"A little bit of everything, I think. There is a huge Mechanicus Manufactorum to the south. I know there are orbital yards too."
Huh. Okay, maybe ROB had been thinking about this more deeply. A sort of general manufacturing world was perfect for someone with the Celestial Forge in their head...or soul or wherever.
"Any notable local forces? Astartes chapter or…?"
He gave me a pitying look. "You think Astartes are real?"
I opened my mouth. I closed it again. "I heard someone talking about them…"
He rolled his eyes. "Trashrats. Nah, don't believe everything they told you. We do have a Sister of Battle Chapter, though. The Sisters of Our Heavy Bolter."
I was struck by the urge to laugh at the name (Our Lady of the Worthless Miracle, anyone?) and groan in frustration. Wonderful, my very own chapter of paranoid, zealous Witchhunter bitches. And I was a witch. Hurray! I shook my head.
"Alright, thanks. Now...about your outfit. It's pretty obvious it isn't exactly legal so to speak but...the Mechanicus tolerates it?" I really didn't want to get on the shit list of the red-robed toaster humpers.
"Oh yes. Like they tolerate the Trashrats. I think they see us as part of the recycling system." I looked firmly into his eyes and tried to spot a lie but did not find any. Well, what he said tracked. The Techpriests would consider humans as sort of untidy system components.
"And I guess the Arbites don't really patrol the Underhive?"
He looked at me surprised. "Underhive? We're in the Lower Hive."
I blinked. "We are? But the Underwastes…"
He snorted. "You mean Temporary Level Storage and Distribution Hub Six?"
"Temporary...wait, six? On that level? But it was dozens of kilometers in diameter! How big is this Hive?"
"Hive Silaxis is the biggest Orbital Spire on the planet," Gilgax said with all the pride of a local boy bragging about his hometown.
An Orbital Spire? That meant a fixed structure that reached all the way into space, so at least a hundred kilometers tall, if you considered the old accepted limit where space officially began. Holy shit. Most of those hundred kilometers wouldn't be inhabited. I think. But that was still a shit ton of arcology-city. It also meant there was a high chance those shipyards he mentioned were right above us. Interesting and very valuable knowledge. Still…
"How many people live here?"
He shrugged. "Ten billion? Twenty? Does it matter?"
Not immediately, no, but holy shit. There might very well be more people living here than there had been on my Earth total! Given that the sprawling waste collection I had seen actually seemed pretty tame. Guess 40K tech was relatively efficient.
"Okay, so Arbites and Mechanicus tolerate your little op here…"
"With the right donations for good causes occasionally…"
"Right. So I guess, more or less legitimate trading, gambling dens, that sort of thing? I don't need any details just...nothing involving kids, right?"
His face darkened. "Who do you think we are, nobles?"
That had seemed genuine. Okay, I could work with that. I mean, let's be real, there was most likely still a ton of fucked up shit Gilgax was directly involved with but...this was 40K. I was willing to make compromises until I was hopefully empowered enough to make changes.
As if in reaction to that, another star was secured by the Forge, dragged down and merged with my soul. The star had come from the Design Constellation, Subcluster Quality and was called Customized Weapons. It also came from a world I recognized. XCOM. The name triggered memories of save-scumming when one of my guys missed a 95% headshot while he was so close to the enemy his gun clipped through the other's head. I really hoped this wouldn't translate into my work here.
The power granted me the ability to make every design even better, more streamlined, more efficient. Despite its name, it wasn't limited to just weapons but extended beyond that as well. It was a general feel and information on how an item could be adapted for personal use. From adjusting grips and seats for ergonomics to tuning screens for alien eyes. Butlerian Understanding already included a general 'how to make it better' aspect, but this was more focused.
I thought of my lasgun and immediately half a dozen ideas for improving it flickered through my mind. I shook myself.
"Good. Let's talk shop."
"We will provide shelter and food, in return, you repair our shit." Gilgax immediately said.
"Nice try. I'll take shelter, food, and forty percent of everything I repair that you sell."
"I like you. You're funny. For everything we do, five percent max."
I scoffed. "Please. You won't sell anything without me. Plus, I already fought for you. Twenty."
"Ten. We will need to provide tools and materials as well, right?"
I thought about it. Of course, Gilgax would be taking heavy advantage of me, just like the Rasche Tribe had done, honestly. But then again, all I really needed was a head start in relative safety. If my memory did not fail me (absolutely a possibility) the Forge would eventually allow me to make my own food, medicine...sooner or later I would become independent of all outside support. Once that happened I could ditch Gilgax. Or anyone else, really.
"Fine. Ten. With an option to renegotiate at a later date." I mostly added the last part to avoid suspicion. We shook on it.
"Good," Gilgax said brightly, satisfied with a deal that favored him heavily. "Let's find you a place. And, no offense, a shower."
I resisted the urge to sniff my armpits. "For accommodation, I will need things with a few locks to store my stuff. Depending on what my workshop will look like I may want to work on a few tricky things in private."
He nodded. "Not a problem. This entire area was part of the original design of this Hive, we think. It's all fairly luxurious. Another reason Irgu wants it so badly."
Turns out he didn't lie. The flat he led me to wasn't even small by the standards of my old world, it had a bedroom, a small kitchenette, and even its own bathroom. I was surprised at the latter one. I had expected communal showers or something. But for the original builders, that was probably a base aspect of accommodation. There were actually signs the small 'flat' had been bigger back in the day and had been subdivided. Probably after the fall of the Federation. Still, it was very acceptable. Most importantly, it had a recessed lockable storage space. I could lock the main door, the bedroom door, and then open the way to my private little universe. Well, I would as soon as I repaired the broken locks. It was perfect.
I put my meager little belongings down, keeping my money on me, and laid down on the ancient mattress with a deep sigh, ignoring the Warp cacophony at the edge of my perception.
This...this was fine, wasn't it? I was in relative safety, had a base of operations, resources...all until the Forge could provide for me. Until then I would have to wait, try to ignore the Warp as best as I could and keep my head down. Training wasn't really an option, not until I found a place...I sat up in my bed. I was an idiot.
I paused, looking at the door. Could I risk it?...Yes, I had to know.
Reaching into my pocket I felt for the silver key...that obligingly fell into my hand. Quickly I went over to the closet-thing and pointed it at the spot where the lock was. As expected the key locked in the empty air and allowed me to open it.
The actual room doors slid into the walls, like proper sci-fi doors but the closet door swung open into the room, probably to save space in the adjacent wall. Anyway, behind the opening laid my entry exactly like I had seen before. I stepped through eagerly, stood still and listened. And slumped. Fuck. The Warp was still there. It was...muted though. Quieter.
I had hoped my personal pocket universe would be isolated from the nightmare realm, but although there was some effect, it was not absolute. Actually...I felt… frowning I stared at the entrance to my Cosmic Warehouse. There was something there. Something...beautiful?
I stepped through the large doorway and stared around. I didn't have to look far. The endless shelves held exactly one object. A small bag of Glowstone sat on a shelf close to me. And radiated golden power.
Confused, I stepped closer, involuntarily sneaking closer, as if the bag was a dangerous animal.
Exactly then the Forge tried to make a connection to the Clothing Constellation. The mote was too quick and continued on.
Blinking, I refocused on the bag. In my perception, it was radiating golden power. It felt...it felt like that hint I had gotten of the Astronomicon, somewhat.
Wait, what? Hang on, roll back, what did I know about Glowstone? It came from a crafting game...it made light which kept monsters away in the dark. Adding it to certain potions gave positive effects, right? Enhanced them? So it kept monsters away and supported humans. Translate this ability to the world of 40K…
I facepalmed. Seriously? Frigging glowing dust from Minecraft was a source of Anathema power? It wasn't very strong power, mind you, just a glow compared to the blazing fire of the Astronomicon, but it was undeniably the same kind of energy.
Wait, did that fix my issue? I couldn't train my new powers, could not become better at being a Psyker because training here, unprotected, was too dangerous. And I couldn't protect myself better without training first. But if I had Anathema Powder that could protect me, right? It wasn't a lot, perhaps five hundred grams, but it refilled once a week.
Lay it out in a circle around me or even get it onto the walls somehow and it would be my own magic circle of protection. But...it wasn't passive protection, was it? It would literally glow with the Emperor's might, keeping demons at bay. And while my extra-dimensional space was at least somewhat removed from the Warp, I had no way of checking if that was enough...until something big and discolored and evil tried to rip my soul in two. No thanks. Though there was another option.
Thoughtfully I took the bag with me. It was a cloth drawstring bag, very traditional and fitting.I walked the few meters over to my garage-hobby-workshop.
First thing I did was drink from the pure water. I really needed a canteen for that, it tasted so good!
Then I looked around while thinking. Ah, there were the hammer and axe I had taken as my first improvised weapons. I had lost them sometime in the scuffle with the Ravagers without even noticing it. Now, more than forty-eight hours later they were back again, slightly dusty, but none the worse for wear. I would clean them later.
For now, my attention was on something else. Among the material my workshop supplied were rods of different materials and lengths. From aluminum to wood.
I had another power I had not used so far. The ability to make magic staffs from this Starbound thing. Each staff could create elemental effects, fire, electricity, ice and poison. As weapons, they were useless, the base level I could make right now was weak and lasted only for sixty seconds or so before ending. Even basic 40K weapons were far deadlier. And wouldn't get me labeled a witch and burned at the stake.
But there was another aspect. These staffs needed my own, personal spiritual power. And, as the power said, as I trained with making and using them that power would increase. In other words, my spiritual might and presence in the warp would grow as I trained with these.
Additionally, these things were strictly elemental in nature. No soul-binding or wrestling with demons required. It was hardly harmless, here in the 40K world, but considerably less than LOTR style magic.
But was it harmless enough? Here, where the Warp was muted? The only way to find out would be to try it...I shuddered as I thought of the consequences.
First things first.
I took some of the simplest sheets of metal and began to manufacture a simple box. I still had no idea how to work metal or weld or anything, but I had tools and power tools for metal and those counted enough as technology that Butlerian Understanding automatically told me how to use them effectively. In no time, with sure, experienced movements I had a simple box with a lid that was secure and waterproof. Then I poured in the Glowstone Dust from the bag carefully and closed the waterproof lid.
I eyed my creation. Hm. Simple, unadorned aluminum, because I did not know how to do ornamentation. Solid craftsmanship, nothing fancy.
It was also the first piece of 'technology' I had actually crafted since getting the Forge. Oh sure, I had repaired and fixed tons of stuff, but this was the first thing I made on my own. As far as first projects went, a storage box for Emperor-empowered magic dust wasn't so bad.
The bag would refill in a week and I would slowly collect more and more Anathema power...which would undoubtedly become noticeable in the Warp sooner or later, workshop dimming or not. Though...was the connection still there if I dismissed the door?
I sighed. This made my basic dilemma no easier. Should I confront the Warp problem now, with all the risk that entailed, or wait?
The problem was, both courses of action made sense from a common sense perspective. Avoiding demon possession for now but also training psychic might for later. It all depended on the Forge, again. If I got a power that hid me or protected me, then experimenting now was stupid. If that took a while then leaving my power fallow was a risk.
I also had no idea what the outside situation was. All I could do was hope I had some time.
Inquisitor Aralev Treadway stared down past the transparent Plasteel of his personal sitting room at the slowly turning world of Curranthum.
The posting here had officially been a 'sabbatical', the period of rest Inquisitor retinues occasionally underwent to recover, repair, and rearm.
But the truth was obvious. It was a punishment detail. Worse, it was a blatant trap, a tripwire for his career. You see, Curranthum was a massive world, with an estimated two hundred to two hundred fifty billion inhabitants.
There was always something here, tiny cults, brewing uprisings, hidden xenos, something. And sooner or later they would flare up. Most that would come of it would be a bombed-out Arbites station or something, but inevitably it would be blamed on him, for not finding a handful of tiny cultists in a literal ocean of bodies, for not using his retinue of a few thousand people to sift through every Underhive and ashwaste on the planet centimeter by centimeter.
That's what you got for uncovering a Nurgle cult among higher nobility on a prominent world in Segmentum Solar.
It wasn't so bad, truth be told. Other Inquisitors knew about groxshit details like this and would not care, but it would still be a waste of his time in a time when every loyal man and woman was needed.
Yet it was also galling for another reason: when he had joined, back under Inquisitor Ha'kto, he had believed the Inquisition to stand above its peers, untouched by corruption or power plays. How painfully naive.
The Inquisition was forced to play politics like any other Imperial organisation and punishing one of their own for stepping on the toes of the nobility was part of that.
An Inquisitor could accuse, arrest, and even kill every noble in the Imperium, of course. And inevitably, if that happened too many times without the guilt being crystal clear afterwards it would lead to their work becoming impossible, also of course. People could do a lot to inhibit an Inquisitor without breaking a single law. A good Inquisitor was both unafraid of those in power as well as a cunning diplomat.
So now he was stuck here. Useless. And now this. He glowered at the piece of paper in his hand as if it personally offended him.
"Another one?" Kenya Hashiri asked behind him.
He turned to his Troop Commander with a sigh.
Kenya often kept him company when he worked, using the comfortable seating area and quiet of the room to work on her own paperwork.
"Yes." he answered her, "Splinter Fleet Gorgon has stopped at the edge of the Tolbar system, seemingly for no reason, like the other ones."
Kenya took the note he had gotten from their Astropathic Choir and read it with a frown.
Even a few decades ago they would have gotten these messages months, even years from now. All Inquisitors reported their information upwards where it was centrally collected and then given out again as considered necessary. For this reason, the Inquisitors in the field had often maintained a private set of information to share and disseminate news more effectively.
Lord Commander Guilliman had done away with at least some of those restrictions. Information considered relevant for the whole Imperium, like the movement and position of the Tyranid Hive fleets, could now be sent as a form of broadcast, decipherable by every Inquisitor in range. This ensured that critical information could be picked up and resent, making emergency information far more consistent in its travels. It also cut back down on reaction time and on at least two occasions he had heard of, had allowed Inquisitors to make connections between their own work and sudden Hive fleet course changes, giving worlds forewarning of an impending invasion.
But now...
"This is the eighth splinter fleet that has just stopped." Kenya declared unhappily.
"The eighth we know of." he corrected her. "And all over Primus. For all we know, every Hive fleet in the galaxy may have stopped moving."
As a part of Ordo Malleus the movement of xenos was usually not in his remit. But given the universal threat of the Tyranids, all Inquisitors were kept abreast of their movements and actions. Especially because these days stumbling over a Genestealer cult was an ever-present possibility.
"Why?" Kenya asked, shaking her blonde head, baffled. The same question all in the know had been asking for days now.
It seemed the Hive fleets had begun stopping as of roughly three days ago. Another day for observation and when no change in behavior had occurred the first observers had sent out baffled messages. Sometime at the fringes of systems they invaded, sometimes between stars, in one case during the ongoing invasion of a world, the Tyranids just...stopped. Retreated. Broke off any engagement.
At first, the observers had thought it some tactical move or preparation for something. Not the first time a Hivefleet stopped for a course correction after all. But that was usually followed by an immediate reorientation and re-engaging of FTL. Not just hanging around space motionlessly.
"No one seems to know yet, but it will hardly be a pleasant reason."
Kenya nodded grimly. Treadway shared much of his confidential information with his trusted staff, as most Inquisitors did. As such, Kenya had a better picture of the galaxy's reality than ninety-nine point nine-nine (and then a lot more nines) percent of the Imperium. Even with the miraculous return of the Primarch Guilliman and the hope and newfound resolve that had kindled, their problems were bigger than ever. Guilliman's return had not miraculously solved every problem they had, though he had already implemented changes that Aralev approved of. The Primarch was racing across the galaxy, powerful heroes by his side, throwing back Humanity's enemies!...And he was stuck here doing busywork.
With another deep sigh, he turned back to the window. Well, no point in being maudlin. And who knew? Maybe he would even find something worthwhile down there.
Author's Note: Da da daaaaam!
At least Eric now knows where and when. That's good, right? That will fix things? 😀
Customized Weapons (XCOM) 100: You know that efficiency is number one, because waste is a thief. You know how to make the best designs better, and will ensure that the equipment in use is ergonomic, streamlined, and efficient.
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One of my biggest pet peeve of the forge is the infinite materials and most of the time manipulation perks because at some point why even bother to interact with the universe at large when you have every thing you need in the warehouse
Arimai
Curmudgeon
If the SI did not have access to OOCP materials and knowledge what, if any, meaningful change would he accomplish? Especially in 40k where physics itself is fucked up by the Old Ones' myriad of mistakes.
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I'd figure that one glowstone block should make a holy aura keeping monsters/demons away/out from 15 meters. He needs to make a hat or helmet and line it with glow stone. Hopefully, that would help keep as safe as could be expected.
I'm not fond of an Inquisitor just showing up. The MC isn't remotely worthwhile at the moment. After he grows some? Sure. At the moment, he'd be lucky to not just be shot or worse drafted out of hand.
I doubt he'd need to worry that much. Oh, he would as anyone with any sense from our era would. The issue is that an Inquisitor shouldn't be remotely around or asking questions for him or anything that he makes for a while. Now, if he had actual crafting perks and managed to make a purifier that cleansed that entire floor from everything in the warp? That'd be a bit different.
He is going to get attention by making flashlights that harm demons and cultists. If he ever gets any crafting perks.
It's not the knowledge that's irks me it's the infinite materials and OOCP material could be made through alchemy with warped touch things and the time manipulation would be better if he have to research and build machines to do it