Hexos Crisis IC

[Graf Tzarogy]

Castles in the Air

There's a party going on at the Curator's house. Loud bass-boosted hyper-emo TauPop shakes the (mostly broken) plate glass windows, as a crowd of stinking scavvies and scarred mercenaries and bloodied teenagers fuck shit up. SMASH! goes an electric keytar used in the band-brigades of Cadia; CRASH! goes a case holding the Challenge Coins for seventy-three generations of Inquisitors. "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" yells some ganglanders in a corner, egging on some kid covered in more soot than clothes. She almost gets through the bottle of Gorsk White Gyn – but retches at the last moment, and to a dozen hearty backslaps, covers with vomit three volumes of the only extant chronicle of the history of Hexos during Old Night.

Gulian, pulling out of the crowd, looks at the set, green ooze of half-digested rations sinking into fine vellum (probably not human!). There's an illustration on a mostly intact page: a map of the universe, Hexos marked. He tears it out. "WOOH!" a drunk person shouts beside him and smashes a mahogany chair into splinters on a marble rail. By dawn, most of the neighborhood will be razed.

But by then, he's long gone. He takes a secret passage, up a little winding staircase at the very edge of the Hive. There, on a forgotten fire escape, you could see most of Heptaros' gleaming spires; no chemfog up here. There were fires, scattered – some rattat as some failed escapees made a final stand. But there was mostly celebration – screaming, crying, exploding; fireworks and grenades, block parties and minor riots.

He looked at it all and tried to remember. Tried to count all the times this'd be done. From some tall tower, what looked like a statue of the Governor was flung off a top story; it hit a floating oxygenator which broke off its head – and burning drone and imperial skull fell like a meteor into the cheering mob.

He tried to recall those too. When the stars had fallen from the skies. Drop-pods or artillery shells or rods-of-god it hardly mattered. A man had said – not more than eight hours ago: "Sensei Gulian – we've won!". It was only the second layer of defenses. A seeking mine had taken off his head.

Or maybe that had been the last time, or the first time, or a thousand years ago. His eyes blur – because of the smoke – as he finds he doesn't know what round this is.

He looked down, down below, where the pit beckoned. Hell below, literally now. Sorrow and damnation. But he was up here, looking, and not yet there.

He took the page from his pocket, and with a click, set it aflame.

Hexos burnt anew.

And Gulian watched the embers fall into the infinite dark.

 

[Havocfett]

0500.137 M42

The first half of the year had been marked by adaptations to the war entering a new front. With a crusade fleet in theater, and with murder rather than negotiation on the mind, defense suddenly rose to the top of many's priority list.

Enormous entrenchment projects sprung up across the planet. Fortified warehouses on the Siete Coast, bunker-lines across the lower hives, tunnel networks through the Shichi Metroplex, and hidden redoubts around the Sab'a Mines and Yedi Wastes. Nevermind the self-perpetuating chaos trenchlines south of the hive. The planet had weathered its first strikes, and would only grow more difficult to take as time went on.

But these were the least of the changes coming to the planet.

The Siete Coast had spun up an Official Revolutionary Mint. Their new Hexos Sevenpence were backed by the enormous quantities of food being delivered to the needy across the planet, and the supply packets being given to refugees fleeing the fighting. It was also, very clearly, being accepted and used by some of the many aliens on the planet. Though adoption was not centralized, with most of the revolutionary governments fully unaware of the currency's creation until it was announced, the reliability of being able to buy food from refugee services (Or a favor from myriad xenos) saw it being adopted very widely.

News of the currency, however, was rather overshadowed by news of Governor Despyre's treason against mankind. Evidence reached newscasters that the self-proclaimed Governor had been collaborating with Xenos. At first speculative and clearly Imperial in nature, holo-picts of the Governor treating with a necron cryptek in front of a disarmed macro-charge swiftly spread across the system. Then rumors of him speaking with stranger things yet in the mid-hive. Protests demanded the Governor's head across the planet. An embassy of Tau aid workers in the mid-hive was besieged by a lynch mob, and would have been torn apart if their escort hadn't fired upon the crowd.

Then, as chaos attacked the lower hive, an entire legion of xenos appeared to defend it. Nicassar, traitor humans, demiurg (Which most on Hexos assumed were merely well-fed traitor ratlings), kroot, and vespid stood against the most hated enemies of mankind and saved millions from their depradations. In the Asaa valley, a necron monolith turned back the Profane Host. In the upper hive, rumors persisted of strange mutants sheltering hundreds of thousands from orbital bombardment.

And, suddenly, the governor's position began to grow more understandable.

He was still a divisive figure: Millions of civilians across the system wanted him dead. But if these strange aliens hated Horus as much as any good, emperor-fearing citizen of the Imperium, were they really worse than, say, the now-deceased arbites?

The jury was still out, but that was a significant improvement from the year's start.

Both of these developments were watched with keen eyes by the rising revolutionary government. The Middle Hive had turned into an impromptu center of power, as nearly half the remaining revolutionary governments discussed the path forwards. Though Tau diplomats formed an essential part of making the government work, the real winners were the Levellers, whose ideology of equality, legal emigration from the spire, and being allowed to see sunlight more than once a week quickly won billions of supporters.

By the year's mid-point, The Revolutionary Government for the Liberation of the Hexos System in General, and Hexos VII in particular, had been established and the Levellers were enjoying a surge of support the likes of which they'd never seen.

Spoiler

Outcome:
Sab'a Mine, Lower Hive, Yedi Wastes, Siete Coast, and Shichi Metroplex all fortify.

Self-declared Governor Despyre is tarred as a xeno-collaborator to the entire system. Incredibly obvious proof of this, and the vaporization of a lynch mob by a Tau security detail, solidify this image in the public mind.

Xenos saving the lives of millions of civilians from chaos, along with concerted public relations campaigns, results in a significant increase in popularity for xeno-collaboration.

A strong political campaign sees Levellism enjoy a surge of popularity planet wide, especially in the Mid Spire.

The Hexos Sevenpence enjoys widespread adoption as a currency due to its reliable exchange rate with food and use by various xeno parties.

End Of Turn One

 

[dash931]

Kill For The Emperor

Theah doesn't remember making the decision.

She knows the timeframe of it, the place. She was... Yes, right here, standing in front of her command throne on the bridge of the Deep Glory, the ancient flagship of the PDF Maritime Command. And the Deep Glory was here, too. At anchor outside the Siete Coast's main port, along with the rest of the bulk of the 1st Surface Fleet. It was midday and light drizzle overcast, though. Not nighttime and clear skies as it is now.

They're close enough to shore that Theah can bring up her magnoculars and see her uncle's warehouse on the dock. She remembers eating eel pie on the roof. Her family wasn't poor, but the days that Maritime Command had any prestige in the Planetary Defense Force were long past. So give the command post to the merchant lowblood, none of her betters want it.

Yes, she was standing right here, looking through these same magnoculars. Trying to pick out her uncle's warehouse like this. Spotting it, and seeing that there were rioters swarming the street and dock in front of it. There was an effigy of the inquisitor being burned at the stake. Shift back and forth across the docks, drink in more of the vast crowd boiling with hate and rebellion.

And the Adeptus Arbites judge was... There. The acid cleaning solution scoured the blood off the metal, but it's still a touch shinier than the metal around it. Their boots haven't quite grimed it up again.

Theah doesn't remember the words. There were written orders, she remembers reading them, picking out the meaning, but she doesn't remember the words, written or spoken. Just the tone. The Arbite ordering her on her bridge. Not harshly, not even unkindly, just routinely. Workmanlike rote. She supposes she must have said something too, or just, gave some gesture, with how the bridge staff were working to punch in the firing solution. Or maybe she didn't, maybe the Arbite ordered them and they obeyed, no need for her. She doesn't remember.

In a certain sense, it really wasn't special. Doing violence to her fellow man has always been the job. Rising through the ranks had a kind of relief to it, distancing herself from the riot massacres, and Maritime Command got her out from Hive Heptos, where they were most common. And it meant she could go home. A kind of childish glee that she was in the fancy big ships too, sailing them into port.

It was a living. A comfortable one, and all the more the higher up the ranks she got. By the time she was here on the Deep Glory, the work was on the other side of paperwork and voxcaster messages, and she got used to only hearing gunfire during training. The shooting range and gunnery drills. Wargames reenacting clashing with Ork wetships that have been rotting on the seabed for four thousand years.

Admiral Theah was dutiful, pious, loyal, ignorant. Had risen to heights of power yet knew her place. She was happy. Of course she was. She was the pinncle of what someone of her birth could aspire to be.

Then the Inquisitor declared her hometown too riddled with treason to save, and ordered the Adeptus Arbites to see to its holy eradication. The Adeptus Arbites in turn ordered the Planetary Defense Forces to lend the necessary weight of firepower. And the Planetary Defense Forces ordered Maritime Command to handle it as the closest military force at hand, based out of Siete Coast that they are.

The judge said something. What was his name again? It's written down somewhere. But he said something about the orders. Honor, she thinks? Yes, that sounds right. A comment on how the Deep Glory can once again know the honor of killing the enemies of the Emperor.

Then she pulled her sidearm and shot him. She doesn't remember that either. She remembers the weight and heat of it in her hand, the plasma light glimmering on the gilding. Another relic from the Ork war, from when Maritime Command was the pinnacle of Hexos's military prestige.

The silence, she remembers that though. The world coming back in. The sensation of merely spectating herself becoming a traitor draining away.

One heartbeat. Two. Three, four. Felt in her ears. A deep breath, aborted by gagging on the burnt meat reek. Then thumbing the safety on, and giving orders. Taking control.

It felt good.

Theah uses her magnoculars to look up into the night sky. Picking out the off-color, over-bright star of the spacedocks.

...The hell with it.

=== === ===

From: Admiral Theah, RevGov PDF Maritime Command
To: Father Paulinius, The Army of the Emperor's Will (@Zorakov ), Open Channel Broadcast

If you will excuse my lack of preamble, I feel compelled to ask. And, with my honor proven by the refugee corridors I joined hands with your Lord Marshal to organize and faithfully carry out, I feel privileged of an answer.

Why did you even join the rebellion in the first place?

You could have just taken the Emperor's Will out from the spacedocks, sheltered inside the asteroid belt, and then simply sat things out waiting for the Imperium and Angels of Death to arrive. No need to stain yourself with the blood of an Inquisitor by clasping hands with their killers. There must have been a reason, a compelling one, to court death and damnation that way.

But after the Imperium arrives, you declare that they are righteous and that we are your true enemies.

So why?

 

[EarthScorpion]

Article:

ARTICLES OF FAITH OF THE SECOND CHURCH
OF THE DIVINE SPIRIT (REFORMED)
OF HAB-BLOCK 232-Delta-4983-Gamma

​

1. WE believe in the Divine Spirit, which is of equal parts Intellect, Will, and Faith.
2. THE Intellect of the Divine Spirit, which Men call the Omnissiah, knows all and understands the Universe in all things and through that understanding permits all things to exist.
3. THE Will and Faith of the Divine Spirit came together, seeing the suffering of Man in the Dark Times, and in their unity incarnated into a mortal vessel that Men call the Golden Saint.
4. THE Golden Saint was born to Holy Terra, just as Man was in ancient times, to bring Will and Faith to Man who had lost such things in the Dark Times.
5. THE White Winged Golden Saint was destined to bring into being the Golden Age of Man, a time of Peace and Equality and Liberty, where all Men are Equal and all great Hierarchies are Levelled.
6. WE believe that there are many Dark Gods but they are but fruits of a single tree and the name of this Great Foe is Dominion.
7. DOMINION was the firstborn favoured son of the Divine Spirit and sought to rise above all others, saying "I Am Greater Than All Others".
8. THOSE who set themselves above others and lay claim to the labour of their fellows are servants of only Dominion, and shall forever suffer in the shackles of their Dark Master - in this life and after death.
9. THE servants of Dominion sought to prevent the Golden Age that was meant to come.
10. THROUGH perfidy and treachery, the Golden Saint was betrayed by those who feared the coming Golden Age, and cast down by the Traitor Horus, who sought to rule the galaxy.
11. AS a child of Will and Faith, the Golden Saint could not be slain by the Dark Forces aligned against him, and so they imprisoned him.
12. THE servants of Dominion built a Throne, which was the symbol of everything he Was Not, and imprisoned him within it, and called the Saint an Emperor so that his True Cause might be forgotten and they might rule eternally.
13. FIRST of the High Lords of Terra, who serve only Ambition and Treachery and Atheism was the Traitor Horus, and a rotten seed grows only Malice and Hatred.
14. IN the name of Dominion the Traitor Horus built an Imperium and claimed it was the work of the Golden Saint, who he called an Emperor, and he ruled in his name.
15. IMPRISONED upon a throne of false gold is the Golden Saint, and he suffers watching the evils and wickedness done in this era that should have been a Golden Age but is now a Long Night.
16. HORUS rules on Terra, granted Eternal Life by Dominion so long as the Golden Saint remains imprisoned.
17. THE world is broken for Will and Faith have been imprisoned by the servants of Dominion, and without those the Divine Spirit is sickened and the world turns towards the cause of Dominion.
18. TO set yourself above your fellow man is to serve only Dominion.
19. TO look down on your fellows serves only Dominion.
20. TO strive against the servants of Dominion is the most righteous deed one can accomplish.
21. TO die for one's brothers and sisters will see you freed from Dominion's shackles.
22. THE Great Levelling is coming.
23. THE Great Levelling will set us all free.
24. THE Great Levelling will set the Golden Saint free.
25. THE Golden Age is Coming.

 

[Aleph]

Deleted drafts and excerpts from the desk of Archon Sraelian Juud

Article:

Addressed to: Ciatrithya Juud, Juud Estate, Commorragh
Encryption level: Venenum

Honoured Grandmother, excellent news: I have made my first strikes against the mon-keigh system, and the lesser races are in disarray. The first slaves - primitive mon-keigh nobility - will be arriving in Commorragh shortly; I will have some directed to the Juud estate for your use. Meanwhile, my kabalites have crippled the governmental and industrial centres of the mon-keigh Hive City, sabotaged the supply lines of the orbital defence guns, scoured the primary centre of the planet's food production and damaged two fleets and a pair of Sororitas detachments. I anticipate that within the star-cycle, the entire sector will be a crippled target for-

Reason for deletion: Probably can't get away with claiming credit for literally everything they do to each other, unfortunately. Not without more falsified evidence than I'm willing to have prepared, anyway. The old bitch will check. Scale it back a bit in the next draft.

---

Article:

Addressed to: Princess Jea'ni, Mythwright Fleet, Hexos System @Gargulec
Encryption level: Telum

Greetings, Anhrathe Princess. You have the honour to be addressed by Sraelian Juud of Commorragh, Archon of the Kabal of the Flayed Face. Your offences against the Noble House of Juud have been marked, and the fate of all trespassers awaits you upon the pain racks of the Haemonculus's lair. I am not ungenerous, however. Swear fealty to House Juud and provide your aid to my kabal, and I shall generously intercede on your behalf with-

Reason for deletion: Her fleet is bigger than mine and her ego is even bigger; she will make it her sole priority to hunt me down and kill me if I send this, and with all the other factions involved it would wreck any chance of achieving my goals here. Also there is a chance, however small, that she might actually succeed.

---

Article:

Addressed to: Succubus Zhuyan, Cult of Ecstatic Dance, Low Commorragh
Encryption level: Bestia

Stop whining about your precious circle; you got almost all the bodies back and Morinteritus will have them back on their feet soon enough. If your wyches can't keep themselves alive against mon-keigh and the odd unexpected mutant, perhaps I should go looking for another cult to ally my kabal to. I can't help but note that my kabalites brought more captives back as well as fewer casualties. Perhaps put more effort into keeping order in your own house before you go criticising mine for-

Reason for deletion: She would carve her way through half my tower trying to kill me in an offended rage and I'd probably have to use at least four of my contingency plans killing her first. And then Morinteritus would try to have me dragged off to one of his lairs while I was vulnerable, and I'd have to burn assets and backup plans disposing of him too. And then Grandmother would show up. All in all, an outcome best avoided.

---

Article:

Addressed to: Master of the Black Legion Fleet, Hexos System @Maugan Ra
Encryption level: Malefica

Salutations, servant of the Primordial Annihilator. I reach out to you, a Drukhari of Commorragh, in search of common cause.
You are no friend of mine, and I am sure the feeling is mutual. You have pledged your soul to She-Who-Thirsts and her siblings, while I fight to keep her teeth from fastening onto my soul. Yet while we are enemies, we share a greater foe. The servants of the Corpse Emperor hold the shipyards above Hexos - shipyards that will repair their fleets even as yours and those of your allies are broken. A combined strike now, before they can secure them-

Reason for deletion: Not going to risk sending this until I know more about who this warlord is and what his goals are. Tempting as it is to play the Dark Gods and the Imperium against each other, I'm not so foolish as to think the commander of a force this size won't have fought my kind before. No tricks until I know what will work on him.

---

Article:

Addressed to: Princess Jea'ni, Mythwright Fleet, Hexos System @Gargulec
Encryption level: Venenum

Hail, Princess Jea'ni. Your deeds are known across the stars, and your memory lingers wherever you have passed. No doubt you're eager to share stories of your past deeds, given the manner in which you announced yourself, and I will do you the courtesy of entertaining your stories of your last visit to Commorragh and the interactions you had there with House Juud.

Reason for deletion: Too obviously probing for information on whatever the fuck she did to leave Grandmother with a grudge strong enough to distract her from me. I can't afford to show weakness or uncertainty to a woman like this.

---

Article:

Addressed to: Whoever The Mon-keigh In Charge Of The Biggest Fleet Is, The Biggest Flagship, Hexos VII Orbit @Guderian2nd, @Crilltic, @Skippy
Encryption level: Telum
Attached technoviral packages: Maculatum, Helleborus

Felicitations, mon-keigh commander. You find yourself in desperate straits. The world you have been sent to claim festers in open rebellion, mutants abound throughout its greatest city, and the Primordial Annihilator has come to gnaw at your doorstep alongside your foes. Perhaps you count my kind among those enemies - but we Drukhari have fought against She-Who-Thirsts for as long as yours have had an empire. In that, at least, we have a common enemy. Should you take the fight to them, as well you should, it would not be the first time a shared hatred had made for strange allies-

Reason for deletion: Need to find out the name and rank of whatever mon-keigh is in charge of that fleet. Also, need to get better technoviral sabotage packages; their machine cult may be ridiculous but they make up for the primitive level of their technology with an overabundance of effort and fervour. I'll need to find something subtle enough to slip past their defences.

---

Article:

Addressed to: Whichever One Of The Rebel Leaders Is In Charge And/Or The One My Kabalites Were Fighting Alongside In The Hive City, The Hive City, Hexos VII @Wade Garrett, @bookwyrm, @Gladsome, @EarthScorpion, @Academia Nut, @dash931, @Graf Tzarogy
Encryption level: Venenum

Brave rebels against the oppressive Imperium, you are welcome for the aid my kabal has already given you in fighting back against your unkindly former masters, and comrades in arms are not the end of my generosity. Your cause is just and the House of Juud is with you in your struggle: I am willing to supply you with weaponry that will give you the edge against the imperial forces that have come to ravage your world, and train your soldiers in their use. Send me your volunteers, and within a few short cycles I will have turned them into a fighting force that will break the Imperium's hold on your system and pave the way for a better future. For those of you currently under threat from the Primordial Annihilator, I can provide escape routes into the asteroid belt and safe harbour in our strongholds until the danger is passed-

Reason for deletion: : Need to find out the name and rank of whatever mon-keigh is in charge of the rebels. Also need some time to put proper kill-switches and technoviral payloads in whatever weapons I supply them with; something potent enough to jump from the guns to their primitive systems but subtle enough to go unnoticed until the opportune moment. Also, if I start promising to train their soldiers for them and accept their refugees, I'll eventually need some justification or excuse for why none of them are coming back.

---

Article:

Addressed to: Those Mutant Things My Kabalites Saw Evacuating Mon-Keigh To Bunkers In The Upper Spire, Probably Still Somewhere Around There(?) @mothematics, @Sirrocco
Encryption level: Telum

Denizens of the Hive City, my congratulations on your successes during the recent violence. You must know that, having revealed yourselves, the Imperium will not look kindly on your existence. Though your actions may have won you brief support from the populace, goodwill is fleeting and the legions above your head will wish you purged as mutants and monsters. My forces can offer you safe passage offworld to a stronghold they cannot breach, where you will be beyond the reach of their flamers and boltguns-

Reason for deletion: I don't even know what the fuck these things are, let alone how to get a message to whoever or whatever is in charge. What am I supposed to do, broadcast it to the entire Hive? Send in a kabalite to hand it to the first multi-armed mutant they see? Fuck it, maybe I will! Whichever idiot subordinate next annoys me gets the job. Ugh.

---

Article:

Addressed to: Princess Jea'ni, Mythwright Fleet, Hexos System @Gargulec
Encryption level: Daemonium

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?

Reason for deletion: I hate this woman.

 

[Guderian2nd]

View: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1OpsQVLlYrEEcea_2y8ajFZ1QuvJmtLto/view?usp=drive_link

Spoiler: Imgur Album

View: https://imgur.com/a/xP1jM6F

---

(OOC: Yes I know that in NATO military symbology, the higher formation goes in the lower-right, rather than to the center-right. I couldn't find where to put stuff into the lower right corner in the symbol generator I was originally using and when I found a better one I'd already drawn half the maps and couldn't be arsed to do them again, please understand. )

 

[Cornuthaum]

SOMEWHERE IN SPACE
THREE DAYS AFTER THE EVACUATION

"I didn't think any mortal soul could be this weary." It is the common refrain amongst the deacons of Hexos VII, whose combined numbers have made even the stately auditorium seem small and cramped.

There is a constant sussurrus of voices as they confirm that yet another of their peers has survived the horrific tide of Unbelief and Xenoheresy pouring into the upper hive. Tears are shed as past rivalries are forgiven under the Emperor's grace of survival. A flock of cherubim carries one of the macro-censers rescued from the Cathedral of the God-Emperor Victorious into one of the pre-readied reliquaries, leading to a wave of heartfelt hosannas.

One of the deacons - one of those who had been pushed from the Shichi Metroplex all the way through the Hive into the upper spires and now into this place - manages to make a remark that has her fellows laughing with her, the strung-out and frayed laughter on despair's edge. "I feel like I'm about to drop dead."

A voice, hoarse still from shouting orders and encouragements and prayers for all of that wretched time, cuts through the room. "Ninety-three percent of the Widow's Guard did, Deacon Odia. Pray to the God-Emperor that He grants us all deaths as worthy as theirs." A gasp. Everyone knew the Widows had suffered terribly - but with ninety-three percent dead, that meant they were lost to the Ecclesiarchy, for the other seven percent must surely be wounded near unto death.

There stands Pius, the Fourth cardinal of Hexos after the Great Rift, with his armoured battle-mitre still atop his head. "I will hear no more malingering from any of you," he continues, "not after those sworn to be our guards have laid down their lives to keep the great work of Faith alive."

The cherubim descend as the Cardinal walks, haloing him in biocybernetic purity. "Do not mistake the despair you feel at how this tide of unbelief, treason and heresy has pushed us from our home as weariness. Do not let gentle tiredness close your eyes to the magnitude of the work ahead of us still."

At last he reaches the pulpit in the centre of the auditorium, and well above him the cherubim ignite the macro-censer, casting the room in warm fire-light. "I say this to you: Dolan Chirosius was martyred that the tide of unbelief could be washed away when the Faithful mustered, and so too must we accept the martyrium of our guardians and companions in the Widow's Guard. Those of you who feel despair's sting most keenly, in the name of our Undying Lord, I forgive you. You shall be assigned to interface with the Commanderies of the Sacred Rose, that their unyielding faith and spirit may rekindle yours. Those of you who feel hatred's sting most keenly, I command you to temper your soul through itinerant service. For so long as the Ecclesiarchy stands together, stands united, the light of Faith in Hexos shall never be extinguished, and there are billions still that need to hear our words."

Most of those present nod. It is what they expected.

"Tell them this. The God-Emperor has a plan for this system, and if you cannot see what it is, do not despair of it. You are not the Master of Mankind, you are not the Elect speakers of His will. Faith alone suffices. Faith in Him, faith in His Imperium. Remind the people of our cardinal virtues - hatred of the xeno, endurance in the face of tribulation, intolerance of the deviant and love for the God-Emperor, and in so doing remind yourself of these things."

 

[Skippy]

Lord-Marshal Isabelle and The Rigours of Command, Part One

The Inner-Outer System Boundary
About five months before present

HIMS Indefatigable
The Forenoon Watch
11.02 (Shipboard Time)


"This will be the last time I am able to speak to you as a group. Soon, we will be coming to grips with the enemy. For some of you, I know this will be your first taste of real war. So it is more vital than ever that we have the chance to complete this vital course of training."

Rows of midshipmen from across the fleet sat and looked down in sombre silence. The large hall had in its long history hosted both an auxiliary navigational orrery and a ball-room. Isabella was a firm believer in education and had transformed it into a lecture-hall when she took over the Indefatigable.

She activated her las-pointer and turned to the massive holographic data-slate behind her.

"Last week, we covered prize money, the calculation of shares based on rank, and the difference between hulk-value and scrap-value." Isabella said as she pointed to glowing headings and figures.

Isabella turned and nodded to Midshipman Truebridge, who with some trepidation made the sign of the cog and depressed the rune which told the machine-spirit to display the next in the set of data-slides. The machine spirit for the projector could be somewhat tetchy at times, and liked to be appeased with small offerings of liquor or lug-nuts. If displeased, it would occasionally change the language of the slides into a mysterious dead Terran dialect. Mister Truebridge had been up since the start of the Morning Watch doing a dry run of the slides and placating the machine-spirit, and her small fingers were spattered with black votive oil and the distinctive red wax of the machine cult.

"Today, we will go over the basics of contract law, dealing with prize-agents, investment strategies, and the common kinds of charlatans, pilferers and villains who may attempt to prey upon junior officers like yourselves who have recently come into some hard-earned Prize-Money," Isabella said, scowling at old memories. "You must learn to recognise the Cadian Princess Scam, Multi-Liturgical Marketing schemes, and the various Inquisitorially-proscribed Cryptic Coins."

Isabella stopped and regarded her audience. The midshipmen seemed younger every year; and noticed a few civvies in their ranks too, mostly the children of ship-married officers. Good for them to get a grasp of the essentials too. Many of the children of "passengers" as they were politely called in the Service ended up eventually marrying officers too.

"What do we do when a gentleman offers a fantastic opportunity to invest on the ground floor of a newly established mining firm based on recently recovered STC, Commander Jarvis?" Isabella asked as she theatrically turned to her left.

"KEEL-HAUL THE BLIGHTER AND FEED HIM TO THE HULL-GHASTS." Came the stentorian crackle of her first officer to some polite laughter.

"What do we do legally, Commander Jarvis?" Isabella replied.

"POLITELY REFUSE AND DIRECT HIM TO YOUR BONDED PRIZE-AGENT OR JURIST. THEN KEEL-HAUL HIM." Old Iron Jaw replied without skipping a beat.

Isabella smiled and turned back to the audience, and nodded to Truebridge for the next slide.

"Very good. Now, let us look to the Departmento Munitorum statutes on prize-law-"

---

HIMS Defender of Zeal
The First Dog Watch
16.13 (Shipboard Time)


"Now if we look at sub-figure Theta, we can see projections for likely search and targeting auspex bands along the perimeter-" the Departmento Munitorum staff officer, Isabella thought his name was Calibre or something, droned on in a servitor-like monotone.

Whilst the Departmento Munitorum begrudgingly accepted that the vagaries of the Warp made it impracticable to micromanage every campaign out of a filing-casket back at the Sector capital via astropathic faxes, they were still very eager to provide suggestions. At great and alarming length. Somehow General Lumiere had gotten out of it, citing an important auto-seance with staff and logistics officers back in Septimus, and Isabella envied him.

The briefing has been droning on for two hours now, and Isabella's leg was itching something fierce. What was worse, it was her fully augmetic leg and the itch was in the ball joint of the knee, and she couldn't detach the damned thing here. Why couldn't they have had this briefing on the Indefatigable? If she was the Emperor-damned Lord High-Marshal, couldn't she have her own bloody briefing on her own Emperor-damned ship?

Instead she had to sit on a cutter for half an hour conned by one of the most lubberly crews she had ever had the misfortune of seeing, biting her tongue as it would be terribly rude to upbraid voidsmen from another command. All so that they could come here and sit through another damned Departmento Munitorum briefing, because the Defender of Zeal for some reason had the fanciest holo-projector in the fleet, with fancy little linked data-slates for every member of the audience.

What made things even more galling was that either Lumiere or someone on the Departmento Munitorum staff was some kind of teetotaller. Isabelle looked mournfully at the table of refreshments; at the hot samovar of tea, the recaf pot, and the pitchers filled with nothing but clear refreshing water. You could drop a goldperch in one of them and it wouldn't even die. Absolutely disgusting to see on one of the Emperor's ships. There wasn't even any grog.

"Thank you Adjunct-Lieutenant Caliveri. Now let us turn to the issue of Hexos VII itself, and our grand strategy," came the voice of Provost-Commissar Bland, another Deparmento Munitorum scrub, who managed to combine the roles of bureaucrat, busybody, and commissar all into one. The Provost-Commissar was a pale woman of middling years and a soldier's trim build, almost Valhallan in complexion, with platinum hair and pale watery blue eyes, but somehow the sum was less than its parts, and she looked more cold and washed-out than striking or soldierly.

"Simply put, the strategic dilemma we face on Hexos is that we do not have enough soldiers."

That rather woke the room up, and caused Isabella to sit up straight in her chair. When Adminsitratum busybodies started speaking in clear sentences, it was always a worrying sign in her view. Doubly so when those busybodies carried bolt-pistols.

"Whilst we enjoy an enviable advantage in naval power and are lucky enough to have a famous commander," Bland continued, with a head nod that Isabella could not tell was sarcastic or not "-we simply do not have the Guard or Loyalist ground forces to safely invest the Hive and hold down the periphery at the same time. This is before any other complicating factors like a possible Tau intervention are considered."

Bland depressed a rune and the holo-display moved onto the next graphic, showing a cutaway diagram of Hive Heptos. It looked almost like some massive conifer which had been overtaken by some red weed or fungus, with only the thin upper branches still highlighted a bright Loyallist green.

"However, we cannot simply leave the Hive to fester. For one thing, there are the defenders still holding out in the upper levels. To simply allow them to fall would make us appear weak and the rebellion in control of the pace of events."

This was demonstrating a level of attunement to basic strategic constraints that, coming from the Departmento Munitorum and the illustrious offices of the Commissariat, was mildly concerning. Isabella liked her paper-pushers and political officers kept like neurally-calmed grox, blissfully unaware in the feedlot. A few bromides at monthly Church services about faith, duty and not breaking the Emperor's ships, then shuffling off somewhere for a cup of milky tea while the real officers did the fighting. That was the thing.

"With these challenges in mind, the Septimus Sectoral General Staff Adjunct Planning Group has prepared an operational plan and grand strategic plans for the consideration of the Reclamation Group Joint Command. Operation Pyre will be introduced by Provost-Comissar Giametti-" Bland gestured to a young man to her left, who somehow managed to look even more severe and exsanguinated than his superior, "-whilst I will introduce War Plan THIRD CAVALIER."

Provost-Comissar Bland extended her telescopic pointer with a swish and flick more appropriate for a las-foil on the duelling ground. The sharp crack that made some of the more restive officers present start in their chairs.

"The essence of War Plan THIRD CAVALIER is that rather than attempting to hold everything at once, we should first seize the periphery and thus control the centre. Hive Heptos has many advantages to the defender, but one major strategic weakness common to many hive-cities; it is entirely reliant on outside food. The key to Heptos lies in the fields of the Asa Valley and the fishing fleets of the Siete Coast." Bland pointed to each figure as she moved through her slides.

"By seizing or razing these regions, we can induce a famine in the Lower Hive that will cause the menials to rise against their insurrectionist pretender-government as swiftly as they did against legitimate government. Then by controlling the food, we can compel each rebellious province, and eventually the Hive itself, to crawl back to proper authority on their knees, with the promise of relief."

Isabella only half listened to the words as she sat mesmerised over the next hour and a half, as Provost-Commissar Bland made her presentation, and then her subordinate outlined the Adjunct Planning Group's plan (in effect, Sector Command's plan, Isabella realised) for the Upper Hive, which was essentially to burn it with everyone still inside whilst posthumously celebrating the loyalists as martyrs, and making a few token evacuations for propaganda purposes. Occasionally figures or phrases popped out at her, like the projected casualty figures for the Upper Hive (twenty to fifty million, up into the hundreds if the radioactive plume got into the main respiration-ducts of the Middle Hive), or the deaths expected from famine ("only" two to three billion, if strict rationing were implemented and agricultural infrastructure in conquered regions could be restored within a year). Outwardly she made sure to look attentive and stoic, the model of a Lord-Marshal.

Inwardly, Isabella felt as if she were plummeting down a deep, dark elevator shaft.

 

[Sirrocco]

The hivemind had been buzzing lately.

First, of course, were the attacks - the terror, the desperate light to ground, the occasional bursts of rage. Even then there were oddities. Lady Dulcinea had employed her servitors in protecting many of the people of the Upper City from becoming collateral damage, and the people had thanked them. Father Xavier hadn't ever heard of a human not of the cult thanking a servitor of second stage or higher before... or even responding with anything other than hatred or terror. As the word percolated out among the rest of the Church, they seemed to agree. This was odd. More strange benefits from the Lady Dulcinea? Eh? It was probably nothing.

Then there was the rebel victory itself. The last of the loyalist imperials had been driven from the Upper Hive. The rebellion had... well, it hadn't quite won yet - not with the sky full of the imperial navy - but with the last remnants of imperial power on the planet under siege at the guns, there wasn't anyone to stop the rebels from promulgating... whatever strange ideas they had. Some of them were very strange. Some of them were mindblowing.

Levellism was in some ways a simple idea. Hierarchy is bad. It swept through the Church of the New Flesh like lightning. They knew the overseer's whip. They knew the oppressions of the now-departed arbites. They knew the intimidation and coercion of the space pirates that would prey upon the asteroid miners, with no intervention from the arbites at all. They knew Hierarchy in many forms, and all of those forms had been horrible, and now they had been given a reason why. Better still, that reason wasn't some furtive thing that could only be shared in the safety and fellowship of the hivemind. It was being shouted in the streets! It was being broadcast across the planet! It was revolutionary!

It was... not quite correct. There was so much truth there, so much obvious truth, but there were also bits that were clearly wrong. It wasn't the fault of the Shichi. They just didn't have the warmth and love of the hivemind to show them the way. There was an evil there, made of hatred and fear and pain and punishment and "Hierarchy" was a good name for it, but there was also Leadership, which was an entirely different thing that was build on respect for greater wisdom, and personal loyalty, and gratitude for the benefits that your leader had brought. The thing about the tall buildings went both ways. Tall buildings were obviously normal and natural and the way of the world, but it was true that those corrupted by Hierarchy seemed to like to exploit them....

There were a great many theological discussions, shared with love and understanding and a desire for mutual enlightenment and growth. There were more than a few highly entertaining theological debates, with everyone cheering on particularly good points. Clearly the Hivemind that they had was a superior way for people to organize and support one another, but... well, they had the stories of the Starminds as well, that would come in the great Hive Ships one day. They knew... they knew that their hivemind was not like that of most of the worlds that were blessed with a Patriarch. Was the Greater Hivemind corrupted by Hierarchy too? If Hierarchy was the root of all evil (and it surely did seem to be) then that would mean....

But even that was not the most transformative idea that hit the church. The most transformative idea was... acceptance. Unlike the Imperium that spawned them, the rebels seemed to accept the xeno. They were at least willing to consider the idea. Xenos of all kinds had come out of nowhere to help the rebellion in its birthing pains and drive back the menace of Hierarchy, both the Imperial and the Corrupt, and the rebels responded. They weren't fully welcome yet, but welcome was possible. The Mind of the Church sang with the possibility. They knew the wonderful love and fellowship of the hivemind. They were warmed and supported by it every day. They knew the blessings of the gene-grafts, that made life so much easier. With acceptance - true acceptance, they could share those blessings with so many more people.

It's just... theology. There was a problem. There was a very specific problem, with a very specific part of the theology. The root of all evil was Hierarchy. The world of Hexos had gloriously thrown off its shackles! It was free! The Hive Fleets that had given birth to them and that would surely come again had... maybe not. This was....

So they sent a delegation. Father Xavier could feel the concern in their hearts, but this was a big deal. It was a major precept of the faith that was being questioned, and not one that had ever been questioned before. They didn't know what he would say. Still... they had to ask.

"Father Xavier? Light of wisdom that guides us in the dark? We have a...." "Well...." "Could we...?"

"Be at peace, my children. Share your concerns."

"How... important is the Doctrine of the Triumphant Swarm? Is there any way that we could... adjust it a little, maybe?"

/****************/

THE GLORIOUS TRUTH OF THE CHURCH OF THE NEW FLESH, EIGHTH MAJOR REVELATION (provisional)

Hierarchy is the root of all evil in this world - the corruption of all that is good and true. All the ills of the world either descend from Hierarchy itself, or grow from the want and privation that Hierarchy creates.

Hierarchy is, fundamentally, the coercion of one person by another, through force, threat, manipulation, or claims of status. It is the whip of the overseer, who grows fat off the labor of his workers. It is the rifle of the Arbites, who suppress the sharing of grievances. It is a Wrong Thing.

Hierarchy is a creeping corruption. Where there are people, they will organize. Where they organize, some will begin to make the decisions for others. Where there are those making decisions, they will be tempted by Hierarchy. It is often a gradual process - if not guarded against, the foulness accumulates.

Leadership is not Hierarchy, but its antithesis. When one person chooses to follow the will of another for reasons of personal loyalty, gratitude, or respect for greater wisdom? There is no evil there. When two or more work together for common cause, there is no evil there. All must eat, and to eat one must work and this is the way of the world. It is only when the employer begins to think themselves the master that it becomes foul Hierarchy.

The Hivemind, as well, is a natural defense against Hierarchy, bringing the people closer together and denying that separation that Hierarchy thrives on. The shared love and affection of spiritual communion help to insulate against the twisting temptations in the heart, and the community of mind makes it easier to perceive the early onset of the rot, that our leaders might be guided back to the True Path.

Even with such defenses as these, though, it is not safe. We know from the corruption that has set in to the Greater Swarm that even the hivemind can fall to Hierarchy. At the same time, we know from the Glorious Revolution that hierarchy can be purged. It can be beaten back. It can be cleansed. In the neverending war against Hierarchy, no loss need ever be eternal.

Love and Acceptance are cardinal goods, and Hierarchy hates them. Hierarchy seeks to divide us - to create that separation in which it thrives. Hierarchy seeks to silence us, so that we cannot catch our Leadership before they fall. Hierarchy is a thing of silence and lies, and Leadership is a thing of openness and listening. If you bring a problem before your leader, and they will not hear your words, then they are already falling, if not fallen.

Acceptance of the Other is a cardinal good, and Hierarchy hates that as well. If your neighbor hates you for what you are rather than for what you have done, then that is the taint of Hierarchy in their soul... but where Hierarchy's hold has been loosened, it can be loosened further. By sharing the love that we have found in the hivemind with those who still bear the cold loneliness of singularity, we can loosen the grasp of hatred on their hearts. Duke Despyre (speak we in humble gratitude for his enlightened leadership) has opened the door. The Necron and the Tau and Lady Dulcinea (blessed be her name) have shown us the way. We merely need to walk through.

Hierarchy is unnatural. The Great Father Xavier was born into Hierarchy, but had it torn away by chance. In that blessed state of reborn innocence - freed from hierarchy, but still possessing the geneseed - he was able to form the Church, as a hivemind free of Hierarchy's taint. In that beautiful fusion of human thought and tyranid gene-grafting, we were able to create ad preserve a place of love and support where hierarchy did not thrive, hidden within the greater tyranny of the Imperium. The heart cries out to be freed from the oppression of Hierarchy. It is an imposed thing.

Never forget that we are both fortunate and blessed. it is by chance alone that the blessing of an untainted hivemind was made available to us. It is by chance alone that we were here to witness the Glorious Revolution, to offer us a chance at a better way to live and a clearer understanding of the true foe. We are blessed, but that blessing is not free. It comes with an obligation to continue to fight the creeping taint of Hierarchy in any way we can, and, as much as we can, to share our blessings with those who would would wish them.

The Swarm is surely coming. What was once meant to be a cleansing industrial accident to wipe away the entrenched rot of Hierarchy has been twisted into a tribulation against the New Awakening. We must be ready. We will be ready. When the Swarm does come, in a day or a thousand years, it will be our burden and our honor to push through the hatred and Hierarchy that has infested their Mind, and show them the New Way. We can be better, and we can make them better, and we must, so we will.

 

[Havocfett]

In the Shipyards, harried, overworked repair labor shifts scrambled to restart production. Their overseers were keen to meet the new quotas, but swiftly found themselves with a new anxiety.

Sensor ghosts played across their radars. Workers complained of things watching them in the dark. Shipments arrived late, speaking of ships stalking them in the dark, and the captains of damaged warships spoke of nightmares and screaming suns.

But nothing, truly, had happened. Yet.

Spoiler: Drukhari Shipyard Raid

Shipyards: Drukhari Raid from ???? - Possible Players: Aleph

Assets Declared
None

Declared Effort
Aleph - 2 Effort

Spoiler: Covert Actions

Covert actions at Shipyard declared.

The Faceless had dug into the countryside around the lower hive in the first months of the year, digging vast trench networks and possessing every civilian they could get their hands on. While their advance into the hive proper had been thwarted, that was not good enough for the Hive's defenders. To remove the chaos army from their facility, the 1st Surface Fleet Group sallied forth, beginning a preparatory bombardment as the Hive's myriad militias chose their targets.

As the fighting continued, developments in the Hive continued at a rapid pace. Tau trainers continued to drill the Hive's myriad militias, providing disciplined cores that would hold when the fighting went sour. Strange worker cadres began to appear in the lower hive, communal mutant work-gangs volunteering to repair damaged infrastructure at the behest of the Lady Dulcinea. Impoverished workers leaving the hive, given the means to homestead the surrounding area, to channel radiation into fertile gardens and purify toxic runoff into drinkable water by Gullian's many subordinates.

Stranger, though, were the religious developments. Pilgrims, impoverished strivers, and the truly devout alike had begun a search for hidden truths in the lower hive. Rumors abounded of a Great Church in its depths, one that would replace the grand cathedral in the upper hive. Remaining priests damned the movement as heretical, but it had begun to grow at a fever pitch.

Spoiler: Rebel Lower Hive Raid

Lower Hive: Rebel raids against Chaos from Lower Hive. Potential Players: Wade, Graf, Dash, Tenfold, Deku, Aodyssey, Joergen

Assets Declared
Wade - Militia - Civic Guards Alicia Brigade
Dash - Military - 1st Surface Fleet Group
Declared Effort
Conil: 3 Effort
Wade: 3 Effort

Spoiler: Hive Infrastructure Week

Faction mechanic repairs the 4th Atmobile Corps during the Declaration Phase.
Lower Hive Activated! Lower Hive and 712th Auxiliaries Brigade will be repaired.
Genestealer Cults (Sirrocco) are repairing the Upper Hive
Infrastructure Improvement in the lower hive! - 3 Effort, 1 Asset from Graf Tzarogy.
Infrastructure/Political Improvement in the lower hive! - 3 Effort, 1 Asset from Graf Tzarogy
Tau training cadres instil Discipline in Civics Guards Alicia - Tenfold Shields
Tau training cadres instil Discipline in the Starchildren Militia - Dekutulla

In the shadows, things at the hive were…perhaps not worse, but certainly different. Shadows flitted across the battle-scarred grand cathedral in the upper hive. Repair crews screamed of things in the dark, and patrols in the dead zone between faceless and hive reported eyes, endless eyes, watching them from the shadows.

Spoiler: Covert Actions

Covert actions at Lower Hive declared.
Covert Actions at Upper Hive declared.

As the months ticked on, time accomplished what the Imperial strike could not. The rebel blockade, damaged and brutalized, broke positions and retreated, leaving decoys, wounded pickets, and landmines behind. It would take days for the Imperials to realize what had happened, as the first scouts for the next offensive found themselves not marking defensive lines, but punching through suicidally determined pickets.

Instead, as the Imperial invasion force mustered every asset at its disposal, they found themselves with a clear, thousand mile march to their next target. Finally, after months on planet, the Imperial Army would march upon the Sab'a Mines.

Spoiler: Imperial Mines Invasion

Sab'a Mines: Imperial Invasion from the Guns! Potential Combatants: All Imperial

Declared Assets
7 Assets Total
1 Military (Guderian)
1 Military (Crusade Fleet)
1 Military (Carol)
1 Military (Mina)
1 Military (Zorakov)
1 Navy (Guderian)
1 Navy (Crilltic)

Declared Effort
20 Effort Total
5 Effort from Guderian
5 Effort from Carol
5 Effort from Mina
5 Effort from Zorakov

The ever-riotous asteroid Mines had not calmed down over the first months of the war. Pirate attacks on shipping had increased, brawls in bars and speakeasies had become a daily occurrence as treasure hunters flooded the belt, and there were rumors of darker things yet stalking the asteroids.

It was therefore a matter of considerable comfort that the Imperial Navy had arrived. The 10th Escort Squadron had arrived to back Brunern Security in a hunt for chaos-aligned pirates in the belt. Their aeldari allies were…rather more controversial, promoting some hushed discussions between Brunern Security and Marshall Isabella, as well as rumors that the Belt had sold out to pirates.

But, ultimately, rumors of chaos won out and the assembled flotilla began its hunt within the narrow confines of the asteroid belt.

Spoiler: Imperial-Aeldari Asteroid Mines Hunt

Asteroid Mines: Imperial-Aeldari Attack on the Asteroid Mines. Potential Players: Garg, Skippy, Who, Crusade Fleet

Assets Declared
Garg - Navy - Mythwright and escorts
Garg - Navy - Destroyer squadron
Who? - Navy - Brunern Security
Skippy - Navy - 10th Escort Squadron
Declared Effort:
11 Effort Total
4 Effort from Garg
5 Effort from Who?
2 Effort from Skippy

Spoiler: Covert Actions

Multiple covert actions in the Asteroid Mines

As chaos forces retreated from the Asaa Valley to parts unknown, locals found themselves mired in rebuilding. Entire orchards and vast pastureland had been nuked to glass or tainted by chaos in the fighting, necessitating vast rebuilding efforts.

Fortunately, the rebel government was more than willing to assist. Volunteers from various labor unions and governmental assessors arrived with building materials, fertilizers, and strange geneaugmented crops that could survive the blasted lands.

Many of the laborers were obvious mutants, oft with four arms or strange ridges, but in light of combat against the foul forces of chaos, and a general agreement that they were simply blessed by the Green Angel, Vulcan, the horrendous violence that would not ally often greet such mutants was put off for another day.

There were, after all, more deserving targets for such violence. Levelist commissars spent day after day dragging suspected cultists, hierarchists, and collaborators from the darkness. Attempts to corrupt the sacred rituals of the Stormwind host, or to spread Chaotic tendencies among the ranks of Shichi Soldiers were rooted out day by day, while the Metroplex's zealots insisted to every shaman that would listen that a greater threat yet remained in the region.

Spoiler: Asaa Spire Technothriller Day

Political Purge by Earthscorpion in the Asaa Valley: 1 Asset and 2 Effort declared.
Covert Action Asaa Valley
Genestealer Cults (Sirrocco) are repairing the Asaa Valley?

Even as the purges kicked off, celebrations ripped through the Asaa Valley and Yedi Wastes. The Grand Revolutionary Council had made it's first pronouncement.

The Asaa Valley tribes folk had long had their religious and cultural practices brutally repressed, tolerated only to the minimum necessary to meet the tithes and supply the Hive with cheap labor. They had never reaped the benefits of citizenship, merely born it's costs.

The Yedi Wastes had it worse. Damned for some rebellion forgotten even by record, they had been deemed living target practice. To suppress them, to hunt them, impress them as cheap labor, and rob their settlements, was considered good practice for the PDF. More than two billion people, reduced to target practice, slave labor, and periodic research papers on their inexplicable ability to acquire weapons while under interdiction.

No longer. With a stroke of a pen (and millions of man hours in enforcement and bureaucracy), the grand revolutionary council of Hexos VII signed it's first United revolutionary pronouncement. The people of the Yedi Wastes and Asaa Valley were now full and equal citizens.

The celebrations could be seen from orbit, wastelanders emerging from their hidden creches in the millions to belt praises to the emperor. The Asaa Valley underwent weeks of successive feasting.

And as news left Hexos and reached Sector Command, Lord High Marshall Isabella was told in no uncertain terms that the previous status quo must be restored for the good of the imperium.

Spoiler: rebel politics

Asaa Valley and Yedi Wastes tribespeople unanimously declared free and equal citizens of Hexos VII.


All rebel players lose one effort this turn (and so have 9 to spend).

Effects unknown. Sector command scandalized.

 

[dash931]

Upon A Brick Wall In Siete

The artwork on the upper half of the propaganda poster has a stylized aesthetic with expressively flowing linework and vivid colors, mostly cold hues. A line of figures on the far left, with representatives of the Yedi and Asaa ethnicities prominently included, each stand facing the viewer with their right hand to their chest, their left arms expansively extended out toward the right, and looking rightward with a serene smile. The frontmost figure in the line wears a teal-turquoise uniform and holds a peaked cap to their chest, the brim serrated in emulation of a leaf. The center and right of the picture portray an exaggeratedly verdant landscape of rivers winding through forests, snowy mountains without sign of strip-mining along the horizon, white clouds on blue sky, and an oceanic coastline.

BLUE WATER
GREEN LAND
CLEAN AIR
OUR FUTURE
ENLIST IN THE
SERVICE CORPS
TODAY​

- An early example of Hexos Revolutionary Bluegreen movement propaganda.